Iwas a B-25-C S/C 42-32278, assigned to the 340th Bomb Group, 487th Squadron, on a cold, snowy, icy field at Battle Creek, Michigan (Kelly Field) on February 12, 1943. Seven men came up to me and walked around looking me over. They looked inside my wheel wells and bomb bay, then opened up the hatches and got in, looking me all over inside. I found out the names of these men a few days later. They were to be my crew. The crew included: Marshall E. Lambert, pilot; Harley H. Anderson, copilot; Robert Sather, navigator-bombardier; Theodore Handzel, engineer; Maurice M. Schwartz, radio-gunner, Woodrow W. Peterson, armourer-gunner; and Ward Laiten, crew chief.
The next few days found the men all over me, cleaning guns and loading supplies. The crew chief's inspection found that my right outer wheel bearing was missing. This had to be installed. As the wheel bearing was being replaced one of the men noticed that I was painted pink, which meant that we were all headed for the Desert War Zone.
It was below zero the morning that we were to leave Michigan. I hadn't been test hopped. My crew climbed aboard and tried to start my engines. From 7:00 A.M. until 11:00 A.M. the men took turns cranking my engines until they finally turned over. We were off for West Palm Beach, Florida (Morrison Field); temperature, 65 degrees. My pilot set me down on the ground and while some of the others loaded me (even replacing my guns), the crew chief changed my gaskets in order to repair leaks.
One sunny morning we took off for Puerto Rico, but the weather turned bad and we flew through, over, and under thunderstorms before we made the island. A few more oil leaks were discovered, and when my crew chief removed my bottom rocker box covers he found the rocker arms had been so hot they turned blue. While we waited for parts Andy had the crew's names painted on me and I was named The Early Bird. The new gaskets finally arrived and the crew chief worked all night to install them.
The next morning the crew headed me for South America, landing in Trinidad for fuel and changing one of my voltage regulators. Then on to Atkinson Field, Georgetown, British Guiana. When we were getting ready for take-off the next morning, I blew my right starter. The crew had to change a new one.
Finally, on 1 March 1943 we left for Belem, Brazil. Heavy rains kept us from landing until late in the afternoon. After a couple of days' rest we took off for Natal, Brazil. About an hour out my left engine began to backfire, so we turned back to Belem. The crew changed my spark plugs and discovered someone had put a lot of water in my tanks. They drained my sump and wondered who had done this to me. We finally made it to Natal, where I had a fifty-hour inspection.
On 8 March we took off to cross the BIG pond, leaving a lot of my equipment behind as well as my crew chief and one gunner. We had to cut down on the weight, for it was a long trip to the Gold Coast of Africa. I waited there until my wing racks were installed. The gunner installed .30 cal. guns in my tail cone, hooked to the top turret that watched my tail.
On 20 March I took off for my first flight over Africa, flying over sandstorms and landing at Maiduquria, Nigeria. We gassed up and left for Khartoum, landing there with one of my engines running very rough. The crew changed #5 cylinder plugs in my right engine and it smoothed out. The day after, the crew did a twenty-five-hour inspection.
We landed at Wadi Halfi on the Nile River, gassed up, and installed new plugs in the #5 cylinder. A few miles after taking off again, the engine began acting up, forcing us to return to Wadi Halfi. After a few days' wait, the crew got a set of rings and gaskets to replace the old ones.
The next day we headed for Heliopolis, Egypt, but before we reached our destination the engines got rough again. The crew found that I was burning oil very badly; all my plugs needed to be changed again. The crew unloaded all the weight possible and off I went to join my sister ships at Al Kabrit on the Red Sea. I smoked like a steam engine and the flying got rough again. The right engine and the oil in the left engine were changed between sandstorms, and then I flew on the Costal Bisito (Tripoly) near the war zone. That night the crew chief and engineer began sleeping under my wings at night in the sand and heat. They could not touch me during the day, as I would get so hot from the sun.
On 2 May, I took the crew from the hellhole to Sfax and rejoined the squadron and prepared to do my duty.
10 May 1943! I, 7 -K, The Early Bird, flew my first mission carrying eight 250-pound bombs. I carried these English bombs over the island of Pantil-laria. My second mission didn't come until 30 May. I had become known as old stand-by, having my bomb load changed many times a day
I moved to Hergla on 3 June, making two trips to haul equipment. Some Brass spotted my tail guns and because he hadn't approved them, had them removed. They had worked great in the past to keep the enemy off my tail.
I began to fly missions over Sicily on 4 July and took my first flak on 29 August. On the 29 th the crew and I moved to Catania, Sicily, and the next day I flew over Italy for the first time. We continued to fly missions as assigned to us. We learned, on 9 September, that Andy Anderson, who had named me The Early Bird, was found dead in the water after a mission over Naples. My crew felt very bad about this news.
We endured the mud, rain, and all the other ills of a combat operation, moving from base to base as required. So, on 3 January I moved the crew and all of the equipment again. Everything had to be moved when I moved. The crew even loaded some of the equipment on my wing racks. What a load!
I was to land at Pompeii, Italy, but first we circled Mt. Vesuvius. Our airfield was just east of the mountain. Up to this date I had dropped 223,260 pounds of bombs on our enemy. I saw many of my sister ships go down as I flew over the Anzio beachhead.
Because my crew chief didn't like oil on my engines, cowlings, or landing gear, the ground crew always changed my gaskets every time I returned from a mission. One of them was always cleaning my guns, keeping them oiled. I learned that my crew chief left to become a crew chief on one of my sisters. I'll miss Ted Handsel; he was a good assistant.
They installed a Norden bombsight on March 1944 and I became a lead airplane. This meant flying many times a day as a practice ship, getting the bombardiers used to the new bombsight. I also flew my share of missions.
Then came disaster! On 22 March 1944, at 2:30 A.M. Mt. Vesuvius blew up. Ashes dropped on me, putting small holes in my fabric controls. At 4:30 A.M. another eruption occurred. More ashes put bigger holes in the fabric. About 6:30 A.M. red-hot cinders about the size of a crewman's fist dropped on me.
Orders were given to remove all my controls, but before the crew could get all of the cotter pins out of my bolts, the mountain thundered and redhot ashes as big as a man's head flew through the air. Everything was covered with two feet of ash. It was the end of all of my sisters on the field. We had holes in our wings; our windows and windshields were all broken.
I, 7-K Early Bird, had flown 90 missions, some 444 hours, with only one flak hole. This day was a sad day for the ground crew who had taken care of me. The ground crew moved off to the 321st field near Paestum. My crew chief and five other men stayed behind to dig equipment out of the ashes. My crew chief cleaned the ashes off my wings and took my clock out of the panel, then he left me for others to take care of.
It was the end for me.1