Frankfurt, January 29, 1944
JUST TWO WEEKS after Oschersleben, the Eighth’s planners turned to Germany again.
On January 24th the bombers set out for Frankfurt am Main, but the mission was recalled due to bad weather. A second attempt at Frankfurt was scheduled for January 26th, but it was scrubbed before the crews got to their planes, and a mixture of rain and very strong winds kept the bombers on the ground through January 28th. When January 29th dawned, the crews were ready.
“Finally,” wrote Bud Klint, “on our third attempt, we got off for Frankfurt.”
The mission plan had the 303rd contributing two separate group formations, “A” and “B,” in the high group slots of two parallel wing formations the 41st CBW was putting up. Two groups from the 379th made up the balance of the A wing and two other groups from the 384th completed the B wing.
Hullar’s crew was leading the 303rd A group in Vicious Virgin on Bob Hullar’s first mission as a Captain. The crew included Lt. G.A. Wallen, Jr., as bombardier, Elmer Brown as navigator, and Lt. D. Kendall as tail gunnerobserver.
Behind Vicious Virgin flying as second element lead for the first time was Lt. James Fowler’s crew on their eighth raid. Under them, Klint’s crew filled the No. 2 slot in the A group’s low squadron aboard Kraut Killer, B-17G 42-31423.
On a parallel course to the A group’s left in the 41st CBW’s B wing was the 303rd B group, led by Major Kirk Mitchell and Captain John Lemmon. It was the 25th raid for both men and the 24th for Lt. Bill McSween, who was aboard as their lead navigator.
303rd Bomb Group Mission Route(s): Frankfurt, January 29, 1944. (Map courtesy Waters Design Associates, Inc.)
The mission would find the two 303rd groups working closely together in accordance with some special instructions that the field order contained: “CBWs will depart Clacton in columns of ‘pairs’ leaving four-minute interval between head of lead pair and nose of each succeeding pair. Guide is right. This formation will be maintained until reaching [the IP]. Minimum interval between individual CBWs will be taken at this point to insure unimpeded bomb run. It is preferable for the left CBW in each pair to approach target echeloned slightly to the left of the lead CBW rather than take a larger interval behind the lead CBW. After bomb run, formations will again form pairs of CBWs…and continue throughout withdrawal to enemy coast out.”
Elmer Brown noted that the mission was a PFF strike and that “we were the second division to go in and the third wing in our division to cross the target.” The force was an awe-inspiring 15 combat wings of 863 heavy bombers—615 B-17s and 188 B-24s—described by news accounts as “the greatest armada of American heavy bombers ever sent into action.”
The bombers were escorted by 632 fighters—40 P-51s, 89 P-38s, and 503 P-47s in 16 groups—who provided “corridor” air support. The system allowed different groups of escorts to cover assigned parts of the bomber route in relays, one group relieving another as it reached its fuel limit. Schedules were overlapped to minimize the risks if a group were late.
All this was laid out at the early morning briefing, and after the other mission preliminaries, Hullar’s crew waited at Vicious Virgin’s hardstand for the raid to start.
Elmer Brown recorded that “Lt. Col. Lewis Lyle on his 32nd mission was the pilot,” and George Hoyt clearly remembers him arriving in a jeep “and going right up to the cockpit, where he got into the left seat that Bob usually took.”
Merlin Miller recalls Lyle’s arrival as well: “We knew that Lyle had flown a lot of missions, and he seemed to me to be a real nice guy. But you could tell before we went on the mission that he was wound real tight. I don’t know how to describe it, exactly. He wasn’t tense, but he gave the impression that he was ready, willing, and able to do whatever he had to do.”
Miller accurately sensed Lyle’s state of mind and the leadership role he wanted to project. As Lyle explains:
“I flew with dozens of crews during the war, and I never got close to any of them. I was totally consumed by the need to get on with the war, and by the time I got out to an airplane, I had always worked myself up to a fever pitch of excitement. I would be simply bursting with excitement. I was ready to go!
“Minimizing our losses was important, but improving our bombing was absolutely critical and making our people see that was difficult at times. It used to always frustrate me when people were more interested in getting the mission in instead of getting the bombs on the target. Our learning process was slow, and we made a lot of mistakes. Every time I flew I was concerned about not repeating them.
“I’d start by making it very clear to the crew I was with that I was the one in charge. I’d be real rough with them at first, saying that I didn’t want to hear any ‘goddamn intercom chatter.’ It was important for them to know that I was in control.”
Hullar’s crew got the message, and Lyle got Vicious Virgin off the ground right on time. The Group Leader’s Narrative that Bob Hullar prepared describes the trip up to the enemy coast: “Took off at 0750 hours with a 20-ship Group formation. Assembled my Group at 5000 feet over base after climbing as individual ships through the overcast on a magnetic heading of 320 degrees. Broke out on top of the overcast at approximately 3000 feet. Climbed on up to 9000 feet in the vicinity of the base. Rendezvoused with the 379th Groups between base and Eyebrook. Climb to altitude was begun at Eyebrook and was a bit faster than SOP to stay up with the lead (379th) Group. We departed the English Coast at 21,000 feet. Going in, we were almost abreast of the B Wing of the 41st.”
Behind the A group formation, the 303rd’s B group was having a more difficult time. Major Mitchell described the problems in his Group Leader’s Narrative: “Took off at 0804 hours with a 19-ship Group formation. Had trouble assembling and made two circles before picking up any airplanes. We broke out of the overcast at 3200 feet and assembled above it at 4000 feet. We fired 10 sets of flares and left the Base at 8000 feet on time. We were unable to catch the Lead Group and trailed them until about five minutes before the IP. We kept the Group formation together rather than pull excessive power to try and catch the Lead Group. From 24,000 feet we indicated from 155 to 165 to catch the Lead Group. We departed the English Coast at 18,000 feet at 0954 hours and crossed the enemy coast on time.”
The B group encountered no fighter opposition and Lt. Bill McSween noted the “good fighter cover.” Hullar did as well, writing that “The P-47s met us and carried us to the IP, then the P-38s picked us up. The fighter support was good today, only allowing Jerry to make one pass at our Group by five Me-109s from two o’clock.”
Bud Klint wrote that “We had ‘corridor’ fighter support and it was very effective while our ‘little friends’ were in the area, but their schedules didn’t seem to be timed perfectly, and several times we were without fighter cover.”
Elmer Brown believed “everything went well until about 10 minutes before the IP. About 15 Jerry Me-109s made one pass at the low group in the wing just ahead of us. They all came in together, flying more or less in formation in a head-on attack. One Fortress went down in flames.”
Brown also wrote that “About that time Fowler, who was in the No. 4 position in our squadron, had to drop out of formation and started lagging behind. He had feathered his No. 3 engine just after crossing the enemy coast, but he tried to carry on. We think he had trouble with another engine that forced him to lag. That was the last we saw of Fowler.”
Others observed more. Lt. V.A. Wood’s crew was in the No. 3 lead squadron position to Hullar’s left. They reported Fowler’s ship “with one engine feathered. The A/C fell back and was being attacked by enemy fighters at 1046 hours at 25,000 feet. One chute was reported.”
Lt. Pharris Brinkley’s crew got another apparent glimpse of Lt. Fowler from Satan’s Workshop in the lead of the A group’s high squadron. At 1107 they reported “an unknown B-17 A/C at 18,000 feet going down. This A/C was being attacked by enemy fighters and No. 4 engine caught fire. It headed for France…and an additional report would indicate that this was Lt. Fowler’s A/C in distress. Later the A/C exploded.”
The “additional report” may well come from Bud Klint, who later wrote: “Just as soon as our fighters were clear of the area, the German jumped the lone B-17 and, after a few runs, sent it down in a sheet of flame.”
Lewis Lyle had seen such things countless times, but he never let them interfere with the job at hand:
“I gave no consideration whatever to the possibility of my being lost in action. The only way I figured that would happen was through some fluke and that didn’t enter into my calculations. After a while, I could say why somebody got shot down, what should have been done that wasn’t, but what happened to individual crews behind me wasn’t my concern. I’d get reports about it from my observer in the tail, but my mind was elsewhere. I was constantly thinking about the mission, about what was happening in the wings behind us, what was developing ahead, and what we should do. For me, it was always a very impersonal war.”
As Lyle and Hullar’s formation neared the IP, getting the bombs on the target suddenly became a real problem. As Bob Hullar described it:
“As we approached the IP, I heard on VHF that our Combat Wing PFF ship’s special equipment was out. So the combat Wing S’ed and dropped back to allow the B Combat Wing to bomb first.”
By this time, the B wing was finally together. In his own report, Lt. Bill McSween noted that “The actual course made good brought us to a point approximately six miles south of briefed IP. At this point the necessary corrections were made by the Lead Group to bring the Wing into position for the bomb run, which included turning back to the north, then taking a magnetic heading of 145 degrees for the bomb run.”
In his notebook, McSween also wrote of “a terrible mix-up of combat wings at the target,” and the problem is made clearer by what Major Mitchell reported:
“We were south of course and the two Wings ahead of us bombed on a heading of about 50 degrees magnetic. They turned back into us and we turned on the inside of them. We turned back on the target and bombed on a magnetic heading of 145 degrees at 1123 hours from 25,000 feet.”
These delays had a ripple effect on the 303rd’s A wing. Elmer Brown wrote that “we had to circle around till we could follow another wing into the target and bomb on their signals,” and Bob Hullar reported that “the run on the target had considerable S’ing in it to allow our Wing to stay behind the B Combat Wing. Bombs were released on the Combat Wing Leader from 25,000 feet at 1124 hours on a magnetic heading of 154 degrees.”
The 303rd dropped moments later under circumstances Lt. Wallen describes: “The high Group was in back and above the lead group, about one-half mile back and perhaps 1000 feet higher…I dropped my bombs approximately two seconds after the lead group in order to compensate for our position behind them. I saw the smoke from the red flares indicating ‘bombs away’ and we were very near this smoke when we dropped.”
All the while, Elmer Brown recorded that “the wings ahead of us had been throwing out chaff, which worked very well. It made the flak ineffective, although there was quite a bit of it.”
Bud Klint agreed. “There were supposed to be about 240 guns in the target area. Quite often, their pattern of fire seemed to be following the bundles of chaff rather than the bomber formations.”
Hullar’s own formation was dispensing chaff as well, and back in the Virgin’s radio room, George Hoyt was busy at the task: “Since we were a lead crew and I had to stay at my radio table, the Virgin had been modified with a small flap beside my table through which I had to throw out metal shafts in bundles on the bomb run. As they emerged from this door into the slipstream, the bundles flew apart into paper-thin strips that filled the airspace around our formation. It jammed the Jerry radar sets on the ground that tracked us along with their antiaircraft guns. They threw up volleys of flak that exploded far behind us as the radar tracked the drifting shafts instead of our planes. I threw out in excess of 5000 shafts. It really played hell with the radar flak guns.”
The two 303rd formations dropped more than 82 tons of 500-pound M-17 incendiaries over Frankfurt, adding their share of over 1800 tons of bombs that rained on the city through 10/10 clouds.
It was now time to head home, and Bob Hullar wrote that “a right turn was made after bombing and [we] came out almost abreast of the B Combat Wing. Our Low Group (379th) was behind, below and dragging throughout the trip…We let down about 2000 feet after leaving the target.”
The letdown was made to tighten up the wing formation, but it was also standard procedure. Beyond the target the need to stay high to avoid flak was diminished, and a gradual loss of altitude allowed stragglers to catch the formation by diving at higher speeds.
The balance of the return flight went without incident until the two 303rd formations got to the Channel at 1302. Hullar’s A group was down to 21,000 feet, and Elmer Brown’s diary picks up the action:
“We left the wing formation at the Channel and I brought my group home. There was an overcast with a 4000-foot top. We were instructed to make a letdown through the clouds on Splasher No. 16.
“When we got there, two groups were ahead of us waiting to make letdowns. That meant we would have a long wait. Lyle saw small breaks in the clouds that indicated the overcast was thin, so I gave him a heading to the base and he gave it to the group, instructing them to make a letdown at the estimated arrival point as if it were a splasher station.”
The course change to Molesworth is the part of the mission Lyle most clearly recalls:
“I do remember the event and the letdown. Some months before, I had taken a B-17 down to Foggia, Italy, to train lead crews from 1st Air Division groups, and I decided to fly back to England at night at low altitude over France. The navigator I was with made a gross error, and we wound up in a heavy flak belt dodging searchlights and antiaircraft fire for over a half hour.
“That was quite an experience, and after it I never accepted a navigator’s order to change heading and turn without satisfying myself that he knew where he was. Brown convinced me of our position, so I ordered the letdown.”
Brown continues: “We peeled off and dropped through the clouds just over the base. Lyle stood the plane right up on its wing in the traffic pattern. He can really fly the old crate.”
George Hoyt also recalls “the spectacular short field landing that Colonel Lyle made at our base that day. This man was already a living legend in the Eighth Air Force, and his landing ended the mission on a perfect note of triumph.”
The records show that Lyle and Hullar set Vicious Virgin down at 1417 after a flight that lasted six hours and 27 minutes.
Hullar’s crew now had only one more mission to fly, but this raid marked less than half the total Lyle would log from the beginning of the air war to its end. His desire to excel as a pilot, his motivations for flying the many missions he did, and his leadership and training role throughout the war are subjects that merit a closer look.
In January 1942 Lewis Lyle was a 25-year-old reserve Second Lieutenant who formed part of the 303rd’s original cadre at Boise, Idaho. With seven years prior service in the Army as an Infantry private and service through the ranks at ROTC, in the Reserves, and in the National Guard, Lyle quickly decided that flying was the name of the game.
He aimed high, making it his personal goal to become the world’s best B-17 pilot. To hear Lyle tell it, the organizational confusion and lack of control that existed during the 303rd’s early days made the task “easy,” but his personal log shows that he pursued this goal with single-minded determination.
As a “junior birdman” in a new unit that had precious few planes, Lyle found it difficult to get on the Group’s flying schedule; he stood by for every flight and begged to go with the senior flyers, even as a passenger. Most Instructor Pilots let him ride, and in time Lyle was listed in the flight log as an observer. He kept at it, acquiring copilot time, pilot time, and a few landings, none of which was ever scheduled or authorized.
In March 1942 the 303rd received additional B-17Es for training and, to everyone’s surprise, Lyle now had 50 hours of B-17 flight time. He was checked out as a pilot and an Instructor Pilot, and his time in the air increased. His flight log for March shows 56 flights; for April, 51 flights; for May, 41 flights, and he continued at the same pace. By September 1942, Lyle had over 500 hours in a B-17, mostly training other pilots and crewmembers.
He accompanied the Group’s flying echelon to England in late October of 1942, by which time he was a Captain with his own crew and aircraft, and was a flight commander in the 360th Squadron. Lyle flew many missions as a lead pilot, was given command of the Squadron, and ended his first 25-mission tour in mid-June 1943.
Throughout, Lyle was preoccupied with the challenge of combat and “obsessed with the need for training, sound procedures, and crew discipline.” He was promoted to Major and became the 303rd’s Deputy Group Commander for Air Operations in August 1943, just in time to take part in the August 17th Schweinfurt mission, and he never stopped flying missions after that.
His interest in operations extended to more than flying, however. He went on many raids in other crew positions to see for himself what conditions were like, and to develop better ways for all combat crewmen to perform. The advice he gave the crew commanders he flew with mirrored his own philosophy: “Know your job, and be the best you can. Know your crew’s jobs and demand their best, too. Flying combat requires the utmost in discipline. Take command!”
Lewis Lyle was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross for his service to the 303rd as a lead pilot and crew trainer from November 1942 through June 1944. He became acting CO of the Group in August 1944 and remained in that capacity until October, when he was transferred to command of the 379th Bomb Group. He led the 379th until the end of the air war, and during his tenure the 379th established a record as the most accurate heavy bomber group the Eighth had.
“Take command!” A portrait of Lewis E. Lyle as Commanding Officer of the 379th Bomb Group, (Courtesy Lewis E. Lyle.)
In his entire tour of duty with the Eighth Air Force, Lyle flew as a lead pilot with over 55 different crews, being officially credited with 69 missions, and compiling by his own accounting the remarkable total of between 70 and 75 raids.
What awes him, however, is the fact that all those crews followed him to all those targets, and if you ask him today about his own wartime achievements, he will immediately tell you: “They are the Real Heroes.”
