Chapter 8
Losses Mount and the Mission to Palermo
The missions of June 24 came off with considerable consternation for NASAF’s fighter groups.
The 1st Fighter Group nearly emptied its squadrons in sending fifty-two P-38s to escort B-26s from the 319th Bomb Group on a bombing mission to Chilivani, on the island of Sardinia. Eight of its aircraft had to return early due to mechanical issues. And after rendezvousing with the bombers at Sedrata, twenty-three of the remaining P-38s lost contact with the formation, could not reestablish contact, and were forced to return to base. The remaining escorts continued with the mission, only to be jumped by a large number of enemy aircraft as the bombers were exiting the target. In the words of the group report, “A general dogfight ensued.” At the end of the skirmish, eight enemy Me 109s were shot down, with another four probables. But the 1st lost three of its own pilots in the melee. The escorts, on return to base, must have wondered what evil genie it had failed to appease before that day’s mission.
The 14th Fighter Group, sending thirty-six P-38s from the 37th, 48th, and 49th squadrons on a bomber-escort mission to Alghero on Sardinia, also had problems on this day’s mission. Failing to rendezvous with their assigned bomber formation at Montesquieu, the formation encountered instead an entirely different bomb group and proceeded to escort them to a mission to Chilivani! Only the 82nd Fighter Group, escorting B-25s from the 321st Bomb Group to Olbia, were able to complete their mission without confusion, and ultimately with success.
The 14th took a couple of days off to regroup following its strange mission, before returning to regular operations again on June 28. As this was happening, the army issued its biennial report from the chief of staff, reviewing where America stood after two years of war. Citing from the report:1
Reviewing briefly the military situation as we find it on July 1, 1943, it will be remembered that our entry into war was marked by a succession of serious reverses, at Pearl Harbor, in the Philippines, and through the Malaysian Archipelago. It was a time for calm courage and stout resolution on the part of the people of the United States. With our Pacific fleet crippled and the Philippines overwhelmed at the outset, we were forced to watch the enemy progressively engulf our resistance to his advances. One year ago the German offensive in Russia was sweeping through the Donetz Basin, jeopardizing the whole of south Russia and the Caucasus and ominously menacing the Allied positions in the Middle East, particularly the oil supply at Abadan on which the naval forces in the eastern Mediterranean, the Indian Ocean, and Australia depended, in addition to the air and ground motor requirements in those theaters. Rommel’s Afrika Korps with selected Italian troops had the British with their backs to Cairo, threatening the lifeline of the British Empire. Our successes in the Coral Sea and at Midway and the repulse of the Japanese forces in the Aleutians had not prevented the Japanese from carving out a vast empire from which they threatened India, Australia, and our position in the Pacific. Just a year ago also the ability of the United States to transport its power in supplies, munitions, and troops across the Atlantic was being challenged by submarines which in a single month had sunk 700,000 gross tons of shipping.
July 1, 1943, finds the United States Army and Navy united against the Axis powers in purpose and in operation, a unity shared when the occasion demands by the British Commonwealth of Nations, the Chinese, Dutch, French, and other fighting elements among our friends and supporters. Across the Atlantic the enemy has been driven from North Africa, and Europe has been encircled by a constantly growing military power. The Russian Army, engaging two-thirds of the German ground forces and one-third of the German air fleet in deadly and exhausting combat, has dispelled the legend of the invincibility of the German Panzer divisions.
The British Isles are stronger than ever before and a new France is arising from the ashes of 1940. Strategically the enemy in Europe has been reduced to the defensive and the blockade is complete. In the Pacific the Japanese are being steadily ejected or rather eliminated from their conquered territory. The Aleutians are about to be cleared of all tracks and traces of the enemy. In the south and southwest Pacific two facts are plainly evident to the Japanese command, as well as to the world at large: Our progress may seem slow but it is steady and determined, and it has been accompanied by a terrific destruction of enemy planes and surface vessels. This attrition must present an appalling problem for the enemy high command. Whatever satisfaction they may draw from the fanatical sacrifice of their soldiers with whom our forces come in contact, the destruction of their airpower and shipping continues on an increasing and truly remarkable scale.
In brief, the strength of the enemy is steadily declining, while the combined power of the United Nations is rapidly increasing, more rapidly with each succeeding month. There can be but one result, and every resource we possess is being employed to hasten the hour of victory without undue sacrifice of the lives of our men.
Several new pilots had been assigned to the 49th after Knepper and Kocour reported on June 9, and these new pilots were also given additional flight instruction by the squadron. Following a final “check ride” by the squadron’s pilots, the replacement pilots would be ready for assignment to combat sorties. It was the squadron’s way of ensuring that the pilots would be capable of contributing to the success of their missions without increasing the hazards for their fellow pilots.
Harold Harper recalls: “I checked out quite a few guys. We would take them up and fly in formation, do some low-level stuff. Maybe practice dive-bombing. We would take up two or three at a time.”2
On June 26, Lt. William Neely was conducting a check ride for newly reported pilots Kopecky, Leiter, Vardel, and Churchill. His tentmate and good friend Lieutenant Gregory had given Neely a ride down to the flight line for the mission. In this check ride, Neely was taking the role of a GAF pilot, working through maneuvers to see how well the new pilots would perform. Neely went into a steep dive from approximately 35,000 feet and attempted to pull out at 4,000 when his right wing reportedly failed. The plane continued in level flight for a short distance and then went into a spin and crashed on a steep hillside, just 3 to 4 miles from base.3
Gregory hurried to the crash site just as Neely’s body was being brought down the hillside. Neely was Greg’s best friend in the squadron. They’d trained together since college, joined the squadron together, and had flown many of the same missions. They were both highly qualified pilots and well respected within the squadron. With all the tough combat losses that the squadron was experiencing, it was especially hard to lose a pilot as well liked and as capable as Lieutenant Neely was.4
The question arises: What empowers combat pilots to continue flying almost daily, after repeatedly losing close friends in combat? One partial answer might be that the losses often occur at a remove; fellow pilots may not learn of a friend’s loss until hours later, after returning to base. And even when the loss is seen firsthand, it is somewhat in the abstract, most often “missing in action,” not “killed in action.” No sound is attached to it; the pilot himself is rarely seen. The only sign of his loss is the crash of his aircraft on land, or a splash at sea, a loss somehow made less personal. The world moving at 400 mph permits little real-time reflection. For the most part, they simply were not there anymore—their bunks were empty, their places at mess, vacant. Not minimizing the loss, but possibly the horror, one might maintain hopes of a capture, or if not that, an honorable death.
Except for Neely. His death was intensely personal, and deeply felt by all who knew him. Neely’s loss brought the weight of the war onto the men of the squadron more directly and unavoidably.
Following the harrowing mission on June 20 to Bo Rizzo in which Decker was shot down, and after the tough loss of Neely, the new pilots continued learning hard lessons about combat in North Africa. Knepper next flew on June 28—a mission to escort a formation of twenty-five B-26s from the 320th Bomb Group in an attack on the landing ground and dispersal areas at Millis on Sardinia. The mission would include thirty-six P-38s: twelve from each of the 14th’s three squadrons. On this mission, Knepper was flying as spare, with Harris.5 On the same day, the 14th would fly a second bomber-escort mission, sending twelve P-38s from both the 48th and 49th squadrons, augmented with a large escort of forty-four P-40s from the 325th Fighter Group. The B-26s were from the 17th Bomb Group, and were targeting a second important Axis airfield on Sardinia: Decimomannu aerodrome, located just 52 miles southeast of Millis. Lieutenant Kocour was assigned to the mission, again flying number-two position to Lieutenant Bland.
The P-38s assigned to the first mission were off at 1045: the 37th squadron off first, followed five minutes later by those of the 48th, and again five minutes later by those of the 49th. Aircraft assigned to the second mission started just a few minutes later. It was a stirring sight at Telergma: sixty high-performance P-38s taking off in just over a half-hour.
Knepper’s formation of P-38s made their rendezvous with the B-26s at 1130, setting a slightly northwest course before turning back to the east, toward Sardinia. Flight distance to the target would be 329 miles. Flying initially “on the deck,” the formation would climb to its bombing height of 10,000 feet when 15 miles away from the target. Forty-five minutes into Knepper’s mission, Trollope’s aircraft peeled away from the formation and returned to base, probably with a mechanical issue. His place in the formation was taken by Harris. A short while later, and per normal procedure, as the formation neared the target the flight leader released Knepper back to base, as it appeared that he would not be required for this mission.
With Harris in Trollope’s position, the mission continued with a successful bomb drop: Nineteen aircraft were parked at the aerodrome, and fourteen were probably destroyed. As the bombers headed for home, a sudden coordinated barrage of heavy flak began to hit the bombing formation. Two B-26s were downed by flak, and ten others damaged. Then the formation was jumped by twenty-five to thirty Macchi 202s and Me 109s. In the aerial combat that ensued, DeMoss shot down two Me 109s, and Lieutenant Harris shot down one enemy aircraft and is credited with another as “probable.” Two other enemy fighters were downed by pilots of the other escorting squadrons, plus two more probables. Two P-38s, one with an engine shot out and the other with the tip of its right wing shot off, joined the bomber formation for protection while the formation returned to base. All of this action occurred in just thirteen minutes following the bomb drop. In its summary report for the mission, the 320th noted: “The escort provided by P-38s of the 14th Fighter Group was excellent.”
In comparison to the tough enemy resistance encountered in the squadron’s morning action, Lieutenant Kocours’s mission later in the day was a milk run. Just thirty minutes after the morning mission had released their bomb loads at Millis, Lieutenant Kocour’s formation of B-26s made their drop on Decimomannu. Bomb coverage was very good—three strips of bombs were laid across the runways at Decimomannu, and six fires were observed in dispersal area on the south part of the field. Twenty enemy aircraft were seen at a lower altitude, but they did not attempt to engage the bomber force. Flak was inconsequential, and no bombers were lost. The escorting P-38s returned to Telergma at 1450.
The squadron diary records that after the day’s missions, all pilots and the squadron commander drove the 24 miles to the American section of the communal Cementary at Constantine, Algeria, to attend the burial services for Lieutenant Neely. A military funeral was given, and the lieutenant was buried in the American section of the cemetery, with squadron chaplin Frank Robinson presiding. This was a ceremony that, despite the high losses incurred by the squadron, was rarely held. Most of the pilots who were lost in combat were killed or declared MIA over open water or hostile territory, and no burial was possible.
In conformance with his father’s request that Lt. Neely’s remains should not be repatriated to the U.S., but rather they should remain with his fallen comrades in North Africa, in March 1944 Lt. Neely was reinterred at the American Cemetery in Constantine, Algeria, and in September 1948 was again reinterred at the permanent U.S. Military Cemetery near Carthage, Tunisia.
North African American Cemetery in Carthage, Tunisia.
AMERICAN BATTLE MONUMENTS COMMISSION
June 30, 1943
D-Day for the invasion of Sicily was fast approaching, evidenced by the ramp-up of missions targeting Axis air forces and facilities. NASAF planned five bombing missions for June 30, involving B-17s, B-25s, and B-26s from seven bomb groups hitting targets on western Sicily.6 The attacks would be nearly simultaneous, targeting the city of Palermo and the airfields at Palermo, Sciacca, Bo Rizzo, and Trapani/Milo—a broadly based attack on the Luftwaffe that could pay big benefits in securing air superiority over Sicily.
In checking the flight board on the evening of June 29, Knepper learned that he was assigned to the next day’s mission to Palermo, escorting a combined force of B-17s from the 2nd and 301st Bomb Groups. The 49th squadron led the escort contingent and would contribute twelve P-38s for the mission. The 37th and 48th squadrons would also each contribute twelve aircraft for the mission. The 49th would take off first at 1000, with aircraft from the 37th and 48th joining them ten minutes later.
A big day for the strategic bomber forces, the four other missions planned for that day included the following:
The 99th Bomb Group would send twenty-one B-17s on a mission to the Axis airfield at Bocca di Falco—the air base located on the western edge of the city of Palermo. This mission would be escorted by twelve P-38s from the 37th squadron, and twelve from the 48th.7
Bocca di Falco had been the home to the Regia Aeronautica (Italian Royal Air Force), as well as the headquarters of the Italian 4th Aerial Zone. Italian-made S-79, S-84, and Ca 314 medium bombers had been based there following the German evacuation of Tunisia. During May, the aircraft of the 13th and 37th Gruppos had moved from Bocca di Falco to bases in Italy, partially in response to the heavy Allied bombing campaign and its emphasis on Axis airfields.8 The Intelligence Section of NAAF had estimated in a May 13 report that Bocca di Falco held thirty-eight German single-engine fighters. These were not in evidence on June 30.
B-25s from the 310th and 321st Bomb Groups would attack the airfield at Sciacca, about 40 miles south of Palermo, in an effort to destroy German fighters based there at the time. A large mission, it was composed of thirty-six B-25s from the 310th, and an equal number from the 321st. Escort was provided by twenty-four P-38s from the 82nd Fighter Group from their base at Souk el Arba, Algeria.
B-26s from the 17th would attack the airfield at Bo Rizzo, an airfield located on the extreme western coast of Sicily, 40 miles west of Palermo. Escorted by fifty-four P-38s of the 1st FG from their base at Mateur, Tunisia, it appears from the escort’s mission report that General Doolittle joined this mission as an observer. At that time, Bo Rizzo was the home of the 17th Gruppo, with Macchi 202 “Thunderbolt” fighter aircraft, and the 21st Gruppo CT operating MC 200. The 202 was the most performant Italian fighter, and was considered equal to the P-38 and probably superior to the P-40.
Twenty-eight B-26s from the 319th BG would attack Trapani/Milo airfield, escorted by a force of forty-four P-40s of the 325th FG based at Mateur, Tunisia. Trapani had long been a stronghold for the Luftwaffe, and on June 30, German fighters continued to operate from it.
Mission to Palermo
Palermo had been getting quite a lot of attention from NASAF since the Axis defeat in Tunisia. Earlier in the year, the Intelligence Section of the 12th Air Force listed Palermo, its airfield at Bocca di Falco, and the Cuba Barracks as their number-two priority target. The port of Palermo was a destroyer and submarine base, a leading commercial port, and a shipbuilding center. Prior to the fall of Tripoli, cargo was delivered via the port of Messina by rail to Palermo, then transshipped to resupply German troops in North Africa. The Italian Air Force also operated a seaplane base from the harbor at Palermo, one of the largest fuel depots on Sicily was located in the city, and it was home to the only iron foundry on the island of Sicily. The military targets also included an important ordnance factory, as well as an arsenal capable of repairing and refitting naval guns.9
This would not be the Allies’ first visit to Palermo. On May 9—Mother’s Day—a bombing raid to Palermo was described in the combat diary of W. Harold Plunkett:10
Sunday, May 9, 1943: This was a bad day, and also the first real mission where I got shot at. It was Mother’s Day, and it was our first target that was not a military target. Our mission was to destroy the city of Palermo, Sicily. The intention was to destroy the morale of the people so they would be willing to surrender the Island of Sicily to the Allies. The Red Cross said that we killed over 18,000 people that day.
Tuesday, May 11, 1943: The International Red Cross has declared Palermo, Sicily, would be an open city for three days. That meant for three days we were not supposed to bother that city while they buried their dead.
Most of the Italian Air Force assets had been moved from Palermo to bases in Italy in response to heavy Allied bombing. At the end of June, the Italian air forces based at Palermo included only the 66th Gruppo, operating the Ca 312 and 313 light bombers. No fighters were based at Palermo at the time of the bombing mission on June 30, though this fact may not have been known to the Allied mission planners.
With the 49th squadron leading the escort mission, Knepper would fly number-two position to Lieutenant DeMoss, in Captain Trollope’s four-ship flight. Knepper may have felt a sharper excitement for this mission, his first escorting B-17 Flying Fortresses. Until now, both Knep and Koc had been limited to B-26 escort duties. Unbeknownst to Kocour, his first B-17 escort mission lay just ahead, and he would fly three in the first week of July alone.
The B-17s were able to throw up a ferocious defense, but it is also true that they were magnets for GAF interceptors and flak. Since restarting operations on May 5, the 49th Fighter Squadron had escorted these heavy bombers on twelve missions, and had been intercepted by GAF fighters eight times. The Germans had lost seven aircraft in aerial combat against the 49th, but had shot down six of the 49th’s pilots.11 This was a frightful record, and pilots approached these escort missions with apprehension, knowing chances were quite good that one of them could go down on this day.
But with recent missions an encouraging pattern had emerged that would not have been lost on NASAF’s fighter pilots: With the heavy NASAF bombing of airfields that commenced after the fall of Pantelleria, GAF fighters were much less inclined to engage the B-17 formations. In the four most recent B-17 escort missions, the Axis fighters had appeared just once, with no losses. It was beginning to appear that the Germans had lost either the capacity to resist the fierce B-17 Flying Fortress or the appetite for taking on the task.
Flak was another matter. As the German air assets waned, increased emphasis was placed on flak, and at times it could be ferocious.
About Flak
In the wake of the widespread destruction of the Luftwaffe’s aviation assets, the German flak capability became of increasing importance and continued to pose a very serious threat to Allied warplanes. This was even becoming evident in the German homeland, where the Luftwaffe could no longer be depended upon to provide broad area defenses for its forces in the field, or for its cities, factories, and other strategic assets. Though the flak units were subordinate to the Luftwaffe for administration, operationally they were controlled by the army to which they were attached in the field.
In order to create better theater intelligence, the AAF had established criteria for pilots to use in their post-mission briefings. The flak encountered on a mission was carefully recorded so that future missions could be apprised of what might be waiting for them.
Pilots were asked to categorize the type of flak, referring to the caliber of flak that they encountered:
At the altitudes from which B-17s operated, they would be most concerned about heavy 88mm flak over the target, but they’d be exposed to medium or light flak as they made their hour-long climb to the drop zone.
Pilots were also asked to assess the amount of flak.
Finally, the pilots were asked to make an assessment of the accuracy of the flak:
The worst flak situation, encountered often during the air war over Sicily, was “heavy, intense, and accurate.”12
Germany invested heavily in research, production, training, and the development of operating practices for its flak units. The captured German document, “German Training Regulations for AA [Antiaircraft] Flak,” discussed the “Ways and Forms of Attack” by enemy (Allied) aircraft, identifying sixteen different types of attacks that should be expected. In addition to the obvious attack modes, the Luftwaffe distinguished between day, dusk, and night attacks, glide attacks as opposed to dive-bombing attacks, and concentric attacks as opposed to sector attacks.13
Heavy Flak
The weapon most often associated with the term “heavy flak” is the 88mm cannon—arguably the most famous artillery piece of World War II. It was originally developed in 1934 as a secret prewar collaboration between the German Krupp and the Swedish Bofors armament manufacturers, with research and production conducted in Sweden in order to circumvent the limitations imposed by the Versailles Treaty. Like the Luftwaffe, flak units were first deployed during the Spanish Civil War as part of the Condor Legion. At the start of German offensives in northern Europe, the flak units were well equipped and well trained.
The 88 fired a nearly 21-pound shell to an altitude well beyond the practical limits of Allied fighters and bombers, and could fire fifteen rounds per minute with a trained crew. The shells fired by the antiaircraft guns exploded without striking solid objects. Rather, timing devices were built into the projectiles, making it possible to “tune” the explosive charges for a specific altitude. The 88’s shells were made of explosives encased in steel jackets. On reaching the preset altitude, the shells exploded, sending out a mushroom of steel fragments. The principle was similar to that of firing a shotgun.
As an example of flak deployment in Sicily, the Hermann Göring Division (panzer) included a flak regiment, which normally included four battalions in the field. Each battalion could include up to four light batteries, with each battery equipped with twelve guns, most often operating in groups of three guns—close to two hundred guns available for antiaircraft fire. It could be towed, permanently mounted on a flak tower, placed on a railcar, and was even installed on the German Tiger tank. It was ineffective at altitudes under 3,000 feet and was of relatively little concern to fighter dive-bombing missions, where the target approach was “on the deck.” For Allied bombers, the 88 was greatly feared.
Medium and Light Antiaircraft (AA)
Germany had seven different forms of light and medium AA guns, with maximum vertical ranges of 9,000 to 15,000 feet, but effective ranges against aircraft of about 4,000 feet. The 30/38 Flakvierling was widely used, the 30 with a firing rate of 120 rounds per minute, and the fearsome four-barreled Flak 38 firing up to 800 rounds per minute. This feared aircraft-killer was widely used in the Mediterranean Theater. It was these lighter AA guns that were the greatest danger to lower-flying fighter aircraft on sweeps, dive-bombing, or strafing missions. Accepted as the standard army gun in 1939, the 30/38 Flak was not only the primary German light antiaircraft gun, but by far the most numerously produced German artillery piece, with more than 140,000 produced during the war years.
U.S. naval antiaircraft fire directed at incoming enemy aircraft. Official caption: “Some enemy air activity and what we did about it.”
NATIONAL ARCHIVES
Approaching Palermo
After Knepper’s formation rendezvoused with the bombers, it was a slow crawl to the target. The straight-line flight distance to Palermo from Telergma is just over 400 miles, but with the time required for form-up and rendezvous, it took the slow-moving B-17s almost three hours to reach the target. Reaching their bombing altitude of 26,000 feet, the bombers completed their drop at 1300 and turned for home.
Ellis and Boatman had both developed mechanical problems with their aircraft and returned to base. Their places were taken by Grant and Cobb, who were flying “spares” for this mission.
Aerial view of the Palermo docks under attack, March 22, 1943.
NATIONAL ARCHIVES
NAAF precision bombing, March 3, 1943.
NATIONAL ARCHIVES
It proved to be a good mission for Knepper to gain experience in escorting B-17s, because it was the closest thing to a “milk run” that the 49th had experienced since the campaign against Pantelleria. It was certainly not without risk, as the formation was met with flak from heavy guns in the vicinity of the target. Fortunately, it was not accurate, and only “slight to moderate” in intensity.
According to the bomb group mission report: “The 301st and the 2nd attacked the barracks, stores, and some unidentified military compound buildings in the city. The target was well covered and there was considerable damage in the surrounding residential area of the city. Unlike the Mother’s Day raid on May 9th, there was a nominal amount of inaccurate flak and not one enemy fighter sighted, perhaps because of the twenty-four escorting P-38s of the 14th Fighter Group.”14
While the escorting P-38s were over the target, a considerable amount of smoke and dust was observed from the nearby aerodrome at Bocca di Falco. When he saw this, Lieutenant Knepper knew that the attack on Bocca di Falco was also under way. In fact, that mission had made its drop just twenty minutes earlier. Like Knepper’s mission, no enemy aircraft were encountered.
All thirty-six aircraft from the 14th Fighter Group—the escort team for both missions—arrived back to their base at Telergma at 1500.