Showing posts with label George Collar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label George Collar. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Now available, the Kassel Cassettes on MP3 CDs


The Kassel Cassettes
an audiobook on MP3 CDs

    On Sept. 27, 1944, thirty-five B-24 bombers flew off course and were ambushed by more than 100 German fighter planes.
   The bombers had lost their fighter protection, and were easy targets for the swarming Fokke-Wulf 190s and Messerschmitt 109s.

King Kong, pilot Jim Baynham, shot down on the Kassel Mission

   Not that they were defenseless. Each B-24 Liberator was heavily armed with several .50-caliber machine guns that were blazing away during the battle.
   According to most accounts, the battle lasted less than six minutes, by which time the criews of "Mayday!" over the radio drew the cavalry in the form of the P-51s of the 361st Fighter Group.
   By the time it was over, 25 planes of the 445th Bomb Group were shot down. Many of the German fighter planes were shot down as well, and one American fighter pilot was killed.

 
Kassel Mission Memorial Assn. co-founder George Collar in his "war room."
   
   Of the ten remaining Liberators, three crash-landed in Allied-occupied Europe, two reached an emergency landing base in England, one overflew the group's base at Tibenham, and only four made it back to base.
   I began interviewing survivors of the battle in 1999 after I visited a monument in Germany that has the names of every American and every German killed in the battle. The nonument, built by the Kassel Mission Memorial Association -- later called the Kassel Mission Historical Society -- with the help and inspiration of German historian Walter Hassenpflug, is a powerful testament to closure between former enemies.
Pilot Paul Swofford receiving the Silver Star

   "The Kassel Cassettes" on MP3 CDs is available in my eBay store for $14.95. It includes more than 22 hours of interviews with pilots, tail gunners, bombardiers, navigators, prisoners of war, and a widow and two sisters of fliers killed in the battle.
   These are MP3 CDs and will not play on most CD players or in older vehicles. Many newer cars have CD players that accommodate MP3s, and they will also play on virtually all computers and tablets and in CD and DVD players that specifically say they play MP3s.
   The set is also available as regular discs, but due to the fact that each regular CD holds at most 70 minutes of material, the entire set fills 21 CDs and is more expensive.
   Following is a sampling of tracks from the set which will provide an overview of the battle.
















Kassel Cassettes 1
kassel cassettes 2
kassel cassettes 3
kassel cassettes 4

Saturday, September 27, 2014

On the 70th anniversary of the Kassel Mission






On the 70th Anniversary of the Kassel Mission

Aaron Elson
President, Kassel Mission Historical Society
Sept. 27, 2014

Hard as it is to believe, today is the 70th anniversary of the Kassel Mission. Paul Swofford, one of a handful of pilots who brought his badly damaged B-24 back to England that day in 1944, left a message on my answering machine the other day. I could tell from the wavering in his voice how shaken he was by the memories, and yet he stressed how thankful he was that he had the opportunity to tell his story so that it would not be forgotten.
Every veteran of the Kassel Mission, every widow or sibling of a flier killed in the battle, has his or her own personal thoughts as the 70th anniversary of the battle approaches. Some family members of Kassel Mission veterans are in Germany where the annual wreath laying ceremony carries extra significance because of the 70th anniversary.
Thanks to the efforts of people like George Collar and Bill Dewey and Frank Bertram and Walter Hassenpflug, and the energy of the members of the Kassel Mission Historical Society, including Kassel survivors John Ray Lemons and Ira Weinstein, the sacrifice of the men lost on the Kassel Mission will be honored not only by the "next generation," but by the generation after that, as exemplified by social media wiz J.P. Bertram, and generations yet to come.
As for me, I don't have a familial connection to the mission. It was while visiting the village of Heimboldshausen where a buddy of my father's was killed in World War II, that I met Walter and became fascinated by the history of the mission, some of which I've helped to preserve through a series of informal oral history interviews.
So today I'm going to watch at least the beginning, and maybe a few scenes, of "12 O'Clock High," which to the survivors of the Kassel Mission is like "Patton" was to the veterans of my father's tank battalion, and I'll get all choked up when Dean Jagger sees that silly figure in the store window, and I'll listen for the drone of the returning B-24s. And I'll read the poem "High Flight," by John Gillespie Magee, a young Spitfire pilot who died in a training crash in 1941 at age 19, and and I'll remember George Collar telling me how disappointed he was as a youth because that was the War to End All Wars, and he feared he would never get the chance to be like his boyhood heroes.

High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds, – and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless falls of air...
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, nor e'er eagle flew –
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high, untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

For more information on the Kassel Mission, visit kasselmission.com


Friday, April 18, 2014

On the Passing of Frank Bertram

The sinking of the Estonia, Sept. 28, 1994 (illustration from redicecreations.com)
   At first it seemed like a bizarre coincidence that Frank Bertram, one of the "Core 4" of the Kassel Mission Historical Society -- George Collar, Bill Dewey and Walter Hassenpflug being the others -- should pass away, shortly after his 94th birthday, on the second or third day of the South Korean ferry disaster.
   I say coincidence because when I visited Walter Hassenpflug in 1999, he gave me a photocopy of an article that appeared in Stars & Stripes. I no longer have the photocopy, I may have loaned it to a researcher, but it was dated either Sept. 29 or 30 of 1994, and it had a big article about the ceremony at the Kassel Mission Memorial marking the 50th anniversary of that Sept. 27, 1944 battle.
   There were, if I remember the article correctly, 600 people at the memorial, American survivors of the battle and their families, former German fighter pilots who took part in the battle, civilians who were children at the time. The article told how three of the people in attendance -- one American, Jima Schaen Sparks, and two Germans -- were born after their fathers died in the skies overhead.
   The article would have made the front page of the Stars & Stripes that day were it not for another ferry disaster, the sinking of the Estonia in the Baltic Sea with a loss of, according to Wikipedia, 852 lives, making if the worst peacetime maritime disaster since the sinking of the Titanic.
   For a while, questions swirled about the Kassel Mission -- was it due to a navigational error that the 35 Liberators of the 445th Bomb Group flew off course? Was there a secret target in the city of Goettingen? Were the other factors at play? Thanks to the exhaustive research of Linda Dewey, Bill's daughter, most of those questions have been answered, with the navigational error remaining the most plausible explanation. But who knew that a brief Internet search for information about the then-fresh ferry disaster that shared the issue of Stars & Stripes with the 50th anniversary of the Kassel Mission in 1994 would spawn conspiracy theories that make the grassy knoll look like an anthill. There was a big NATO exercise going on at the time; a day before the disaster a terror drill involving two bombs took place aboard the Estonia; Swedish phone lines were jammed at the time the first distress calls went out; 150 smuggled Iraqi Kurds may have been hidden in a truck, which would have increased the death toll to 1,000; contraband advanced Soviet weapons were on the Estonia; and as recently as last year the NSA and CIA were stonewalling the author of a 1996 book, "The Hole," questioning the official findings of the Swedish inquiry into the disaster.
   So I asked myself, Coincidence? I don't think so.
   Linda Dewey has noted that without Frank, there wouldn't be a Kassel Mission Memorial, and there might not even be a KMHS. It wasn't until Walter Hassenpflug -- who as a 12 year old boy captured an injured Bertram after the 19-year-old navigator bailed out of his crippled B-24 -- located him in the 1980s and the two got together, that the idea of a memorial to the fallen on both sides began to take shape.
   I never interviewed Frank, and only met him once, at a reunion of the 8th Air Force Historical Society in Savannah, but after I called him in 1999 he sat in his car, at least I think it was his car, with, I think he said two tape recorders, and just spoke into them. He sent me the two tapes he made, one 90 minutes and the other either 100 or 120 minutes. He just talked and talked. I transcribed the two tapes and used a narrative drawn from the transcript in my book "9 Lives." Initially I wanted to write a book solely about the Kassel Mission, but I realized I was just getting started, so I included three accounts of the mission, those of George Collar, Frank, and Kay Brainard Hutchins, whose brother Newell survived bailing out of his plane but was murdered on the ground by civilians.
   Last night I messaged Jima Schaen Sparks with a question about the Stars & Stripes article because I knew she was mentioned in it, and she replied with an anecdote about Frank, and how they met at the Frankfurt airport on their way to the ceremony marking the dedication of the monument.
   "It's really sad to hear of Frank Bertram," she wrote. "I recall so clearly when we met ... 1990 in the Frankfurt airport. While wandering around looking for the group meeting the bus to Bad Hersfeld, I saw another confused wanderer, obviously American, wearing a yellow sweater and khakis, a tall, handsome man with a military bearing.
   "We made eye contact, and after a short conversation learned we were both looking for the Kassel Mission group. He then inquired about my connection, saying I was a bit young to be the wife of one of the 'ol' guys.' I introduced myself, telling him that my father, Jim Schaen, was one of those killed on the mission.
   "He appeared speechless for a time, and just stared at me with eyes brimming with tears. Then he told me that he was with Jim at mail call when he received the letter from Mother telling him she was pregnant, just a few weeks before the mission, I believe.
   "He was the first person I'd ever met, other than family, who had known Jim."

For more information and accounts of the Kassel Mission, please visit Kasselmission.com




Thursday, June 20, 2013

Bandits at 6 o'clock



   “It was just like the battle in 'Wings,'” George Collar said of the Kassel Mission of Sept. 27, 1944. “You’d hear those guns shooting and you could hear stuff blowing up and planes blowing up and bomb bay doors come floating by, and you could see the fighters sailing in on these guys. It was just like the movies. Better than the movies.”
   “Wings," a silent film about aerial combat in World War I, was the first movie to win the Academy Award for Best Picture, in 1927.
   Collar was a bombardier on the Kassel Mission. His B-24 was one of 25 shot down that day and he became a prisoner of war. Bill Dewey, the pilot of one of the 10 bombers that survived the initial battle, once mentioned that he'd probably seen "12 O'Clock High" two dozen times.
   The Kassel Mission was supposed to be what was called a “milk run.” It turned out to be one of the most spectacular air battles of World War II.
   These are some descriptions from the survivors:

    “The tail gunner broke in on the intercom with ‘Bandits at 6 o’clock level, ten or twelve across.’ ”

    “Planes were going down – some in flames, others just exploding. The air was full of 20-millimeter shells. I thought the whole German Air Force was in the air at the same time. The first pass that they made took most of the squadron with them.”

    “There were planes blowing up. I saw engines go flying out of their holes. I saw parachutes. Parts of planes.”

    “The leading Liberator, on fire from nose to tail, came swinging toward us like a severely wounded animal, then peeled away as if to pick a spot away from us to die. The next bomber moved up in its place. Then we were hit ourselves.”

    I looked east and saw what looked to me to be over l00 fighters coming down in waves. I saw planes on fire, fliers bailing out, many with chutes also on fire. It couldn’t have taken over a few moments and looked to me like the whole 445th was wiped out. It is a memory and a vision I’ve carried for over 50 years.

    “The Liberator with the engines on fire on the left wing came up from below us to explode after it had reached our level. A human form fell out of the orange colored ball of fire. As he fell through space without parachute or harness, he reached up as if to grasp at something.”

     “I looked down on the lead group and there’s a bunch of FW-190s coming in, nine or ten of them abreast, shooting at them. And by that time we’re getting hit.”

    “The 20-millimeter shell tore through the bomb bay, ripping off the doors and severing fuel lines. Two fires started simultaneously in the bay. What strange mystery of fate kept us from exploding I’ll never be able to fathom. The engineer threw off his parachute, grabbed a fire extinguisher, and put both fires out before the 100-octane gas had been ignited. Then he attended to the leaks from which fuel was pouring out like water from a fire hydrant. Gasoline had saturated the three of us in the ship’s waist, and we all had a difficult time moving about. The two waist gunners were slipping and sliding as they sighted their guns.”

   George Collar and Bill Dewey devoted much of their lives to gathering documentation and preserving the history of the Kassel Mission. Together they formed the Kassel Mission Memorial Association, which, along with the efforts of German historian Walter Hassenpflug, was responsible for placing a monument in Germany with the names of 123 Americans and 18 Germans who perished in the battle. Collar and Dewey have both passed away, and Hassenpflug, who was an 11-year-old boy at the time of the battle, is in poor health. The so-called "next gen," or next generation, with people like Linda Dewey, Bill's daughter; and Doug Collar, George's son, spearheaded the formation of the Kassel Mission Historical Society.
   It was the dream of Bill Dewey and George Collar to one day write a book about the mission. In 2000, I drove to George's home in Tiffin, Ohio, and sat down with George and Doug Collar and Bill Dewey, and we discussed what should go into a book about the Kassel Mission. Bill said he'd like to model it after "Black Sunday," a coffee table tome about the Ploesti raid, with pictures of all the crews and charts and firsthand accounts.
   As was often the case with George, the conversation went off on an occasional tangent. One such tangent involved the Dessau Mission of Aug. 16, 1944, five weeks before the Kassel raid.
   “That Dessau Mission was my first mission,” remarked Bill. “I didn’t know any better. I guess that was the worst flak anybody had ever seen, because it was from railroad guns [antiaircraft guns on rail cars along the path the bombers were flying], and I didn’t know that that’s not the way it would be for all 35 missions.”
   “We never got to the target that day,” said George. “We had supercharger trouble and we started back. And in the meantime there was a guy in the high high right squadron who flopped over and came right down on top of Captain Carlisle’s plane, and as they came past, they almost wiped out Baynham’s plane. And they think the plane was upside down because they found footprints on the ceiling. And the bombs went up and came down in the bomb bay. They hadn’t dropped the bombs yet; they were flopping around on the shackles.”
   “One of the best stories we’ve got to put in,” George said a bit later, “is that story about Hunter’s crew, when they crashed in France [on the Kassel Mission]. They got hit in the gasoline tanks and gasoline was siphoning out of the bomb bay and coming up into the photographer’s hatch in the waist, and they said they were sloshing around in six inches of 120 octane gas. And there was a guy that deserved a medal – and he got one, too – a guy named Ratchford – he was the engineer. He went down in the bomb bay, imagine that, with gasoline shooting all over, and he repaired the leak. And they crash-landed, and they never even caught on fire.”
   “You know, these stories,” Doug Collar interjected. “I remember at Friedlos, getting ready for the ceremony [the dedication of the monument in Germany 1990]. I’m kind of eavesdropping, and these 18, 19 year old GIs are saying, ‘Do you believe these old farts?’
   “One of them says, ‘I can’t believe it, these guys are up there flying around, shooting .50-calibers at each other, no pressurized cabins. Jesus Christ!’
   “I’m listening, and the thing about it is, when you tell the story, the guy flying upside down, the footprints on the ceiling, bombs flying around, gasoline pouring out: this is the stuff that the average citizen has no comprehension of today. They see pushbutton warfare in the Persian Gulf – it’s all electronic. And I think this is the essence of a lot of these stories. These are unbelievable today.”
   After a few more anecdotes, the discussion took a somber turn, as the two principals placed the mission in the perspective of military disasters.
   “I’ll tell you what I think about this mission,” George said. “It was a big defeat for us and nothing to brag about, and I always said there was never anything written about it because they were trying to forget it.”
   “That’s right,” Bill said. “A coverup.”
   “I don’t know if it was a coverup,” George said. “They just said, 'Let’s kind of wash it under the rug.'”
   “Yeah,” Bill said. “Like that battleship that went down in ’45. The Indianapolis [actually, it was a cruiser]. That was a terrible thing.”
   Doug Collar suggested stressing the teamwork among the crews.
   “The thing that comes across time and again,” he said, “is that this is a team operation. It’s the training, but also the esprit de corps. Everybody had a job to do, they knew what they were supposed to do. I think that comes across on the Kassel Mission a lot.
   “Another thing the team concept manifests itself in is in what’s happened since 1986, in the fact that these guys are like a family 50 years later.”
   One valuable member of that family, Bill and George pointed out, is the young Belgian Luc Dewez, the author of the first, and so far the only, book about the Kassel Mission, “The Cruel Sky.”
   “Luc, he calls me, my … what does he say in here?” George said, opening his copy to the dedication. “‘To George. Don’t stop talking. Don’t stop researching. Dear boyhood hero. Dear friend. From Belgium. Stay my wordy friend.”
   “When I read that I thought, ‘You sonofagun!’” George said. After a round of laughter, all agreed that Luc meant “My worthy friend.”
   “You know, another thing about this team concept,” Doug said. “When I introduced Luc at the banquet [at the Savannah reunion of the 8th Air Force Association in 1999], I made remarks about how this is a team effort and the Allies are part of this, and he was representing the role of our Allies in Belgium: his father fought in the underground. Well, he didn’t show up at the Saturday night banquet, and everybody was worried about him. Then we came back, and when the bus came in, he was standing there passing his book out at 11 o’clock at night in the hotel.
   “I said, ‘What happened to you?’
   “He said, ‘Well, you mentioned we’re part of a family, part of a team effort.’ And he said, ‘Web Uebelhoer’s legs were swelling up and he needed medical help, so I stayed here with him. I’m part of the team.’” [Web Uebelhoer was the pilot of the deputy lead plane on the Kassel Mission, and had suffered a stroke and was in a wheelchair at the reunion.]
   Despite the exhaustive research conducted by George and Bill, there was actually a bit of serendipity involved in the formation of the KMMA.
   “I’ve got to give credit to my wife for this,” Bill said, “because we were at a reception at Norwich City Hall [in England] and she heard these two people talking about going back to Germany and meeting the German pilots, and it was Frank Bertram and Reg Miner talking with some other people. She grabbed ahold of them and said, ‘My husband always wanted to meet the German pilots.’ And so she introduced me to Frank, who had been in our 445th but I didn’t know him. So I’ve got to give credit to my wife.”
   “I remember back in ’87,” George said to Bill, “we went to that mini reunion down in Dayton and I met you.”
   “You said, ‘I want to see you,’” Bill replied. “You were sitting in the auditorium.”
   “And you know,” George said, “the funny part of it was, after Woolnough [editor of the 8th Air Force News] published the “Kassel Mission Reports” [actually, KMMA published the “Reports” that were articles originally carried in the 8th Air Force News], there was a letter in the 8th Air Force newsletter from a guy who said he had a friend that was killed in the Kassel raid and somebody ought to do something about putting up a monument, so the nucleus of the monument really started with him.”
   “He was a B-29 gunner, wasn’t he?” Bill recalled.
   “They’d gone through gunnery school together,” Doug said.
   “He said, ‘If anybody wanted to put up a monument, I'd be glad to donate,” Bill said. “And that's where I got the idea of a monument.”
   “Anyway," George said, “I looked at the name. There was nobody with that name on the Kassel Mission.”
   “We never heard any more from him,” Bill said.
   “He never sent in his money!” George said.

The Kassel Mission Memorial in Friedlos, Germany
For more on the Kassel Mission, please visit kasselmission.com, and think about becoming involved in the Kassel Mission Historical Society, to help keep the memory of this important piece of World War II history alive.