| Celebrating the Bridge at Liege |
| Donor | Original Source | PIMA ID | Donor ID | Category |
| Richard P. Ellinger | Von LeVan John O. Moench |
NA | PA.470 | G-DA-P |
For he humorous side we came off a rough mission the target was a bridge at Liege. Oliver was leading the low box that day and I was the bombardier navigator. Everything on the raid was going as planned till we neared the I.P. (Initial Point) and the Group turned the wrong way. I called Oliver on the intercom. There is Liege over on our left what should we do. So Ollie asked if I was sure and I replied yes I'm sure so we turned to our left and headed for Liege. The flak proceeded to get very heavy as we settled down on the bomb run. It was my first sight of seeing red and white phosphorus shells being fired at us. Some of the shells were so close we were flying right thru their smoke and you could hear the ka-woop and the aircraft shuttered, it was quite scary. I spotted the bridge and took over the aircraft. The Bridge was right in the middle of the town so I set the release of the bombs about ten feet apart. After the release Ollie made a sharp turn and I did not see the bombs hit but Jan Isdepski our tail gunner yelled over the intercom we took the bridge out. When the flak died down and we got thru our evasive action I set the course for Ostend. I was really worried now about leaving the formation but I related to myself we're here to get the Bridge and that we did. I was consoled by that way of thinking. Anyway after the debriefing and having dinner Oliver, Green and I decided to go to Earls' Cone to the local pub the Red Lion and consume a few. To make a story short we consumed (quite a load of Half & Half and when the pub closed, they all closed at 2200 hours then and we got on our bikes and headed for home. Would you believe on the way back my bicycle became inebriated and cantankerous and carried me off the road and into a ditch full of water. There I was soaking wet covered with mud and debris. I smelled like a half a dozen New England Algonquian Cognates (skunks) had given me a bath. My bikes front wheel had the appearance of a caved in cardiod. The handlebars had curves that even a master of theory of equation could not equate. The guys left me to stagger home by myself So there I was carrying a broken down bike back to the Air Drome, The guard at the gate came out of his enclosed post but when he saw the crumbled up fender with the yellow strip and that I was reeking with unpleasant odor told me to move on. When I arrived at the quonset hut, "Dog Patch" they told me to stay out even the dog, Trey (a Great Dane) went to the other side of quonset hut. I was embarrassed. Now I know how a New England Algonquian Cognate feels. Hope this will give you a laugh now that I look back it was hilarious. Von E. LeVan |