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    Flight Surgeon
    Flight Surgeon
    Flight Surgeon
    Ebook131 pages2 hours

    Flight Surgeon

    By Wilmer H. Paine

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    About this ebook

    This summer, I found in my files the last letter my father wrote from Europe, telling of the sightseeing flight over bombed Germany four days after VE Day. I was already considering a reprint of the journal, and this letter clearly belongs in it. I see it as an important document on the condition of Germany at the close of the war and of the state of mind of the American fliers.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherXlibris US
    Release dateDec 19, 2016
    ISBN9781524560423
    Flight Surgeon

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      Book preview

      Flight Surgeon - Wilmer H. Paine

      Copyright © 2017 by Betty B. Paine.

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

      Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

      Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

      Rev. date: 02/02/2017

      Xlibris

      1-888-795-4274

      www.Xlibris.com

      751111

      Contents

      Foreword

      The Journal

      December 1942

      January 1943

      February 1943

      March 1943

      April 1943

      September 1943

      October 1943

      September 1944

      Plans for Returning Home

      Memoranda

      Letters

      News Articles

      My Search for the 9³rd

      Hardwick

      9³rd Bomb Group Reunion 2001

      Kuroki

      9³rd Reunion, San Diego, 2005

      02.jpg

      Major Wilmer H. Paine

      Gambut, Libya, Jan. 16, 1943

      Foreword

      My father, Major Wilmer H. Paine, was Flight Surgeon with the 93rd Bombardment Group, 8th Air Force, at Hardwick, England, 1942-45. He was a physician in Charlottesville, Va., when he was called to active service in June 1941. He was in the first class of the School of Aviation Medicine at Randolph Field, Texas, Jan.-March ’42. He was then sent to Shreveport, La., April-May, where the 93rd was being assembled, and on to Fort Myers, Florida, May-August. The unit was the first group of B-24 Liberator bombers sent to England in late September 1942; he remained with them until the end of the war in Europe.

      The family traveled with him to Texas, Louisiana and Florida. I was seven years old at the time, but I can remember a few of the men we knew in Florida. He never talked about his wartime experiences, so I had only my childhood memories to go on. In the past few years I have started to learn about this part of his life in my visit to Hardwick, attending a reunion of the 93rd, and reading the history of the group, Ted’s Traveling Circus by Cal Stewart, Lincoln, Nebraska, 1996. Only a few months ago this journal turned up in some family papers: my brother and I never knew it existed.

      The journal covers only certain months of the two and a half years he spent overseas, leaving huge gaps in the story. On the first trip to Africa, December ’42 to February ’43, he seems to be describing the adventure of a lifetime, honestly enjoying the excitement despite the cold and the sandstorms. Gradually the constant loss of friends begins to weaken his enthusiasm. The second trip to Africa in July-August ’43, which included the hugely costly raid on Ploesti, Rumania, is omitted from the journal completely. The third Africa trip in September ’43 is just an unpleasant job in an unpleasant war–sand, heat, malaria. The visit to liberated Paris in September 1944 is a joyful contrast to what has gone before.

      My father was 41 years old at the end of the war; he was twenty years older than most of the kids flying airplanes, and his maturity gave some stability to the younger men. He took seriously the needs of the men for recreation. My family still has the silver loving cup won by his team, the Medics, as runners-up in the 8th Air Force volleyball championship. The cup is inscribed with the names of all the men on the team.

      Near the end of the war one of the local families near Hardwick asked him to deliver their baby. He was so happy for the chance to practice family medicine again. In the last few weeks of the European war he was no longer needed in England, and volunteered to work at the St. John’s Hospital in Paris. He returned to the U.S. in June on the Queen Mary, and was mustered out in Sioux Falls, S. D. in August.

      He practiced medicine in Charlottesville, Va., until he retired. In the summer of 1981, at age 77, he was the oldest person on record at that time to climb the Matterhorn. For several years after this he helped maintain a five-mile section of the Appalachian Trail. He died in Charlottesville, July 20, 1990, at age 86.

      –Spring 2006

      Note to the Second Edition

      This summer I found in my files the last letter my father wrote from Europe, telling of the sight-seeing flight over bombed Germany four days after VE Day. I was already considering a reprint of the journal, and this letter clearly belongs in it. I see it as an important document on the condition of Germany at the close of the war, and of the state of mind of the American fliers as they look forward to going home.

      –September 2016

      Picture credits:

      The photograph of Major Paine, frontispiece, is from the Paine family; page 98 courtesy Lew Brown. The remaining photographs courtesy the 93rd Bombardment Group Association.

      The Journal

      December 1942

      DECEMBER 5, 1942. Alconbury, Sat.

      This morning things about as usual except a convoy left for Hardwick. ‘Yack’ Brown went over as advance medical officer. As Ken [Cool] & I were planning to have Barry O’Gorman and Pat ‘Scotty’ Patterson up at my thatch cottage rendevous for supper I spent best part of morning managing for groceries. About noon I began hearing that something was in the air at Group Operations. Briefing at 3:00P. and we were told to be ready to take off for N. Africa in the morning. I called Wyn at 5:30 & told her I was going ‘to join Chick.’ We had a swell farewell party in my thatch cottage until 11:30.

      DECEMBER 6, 1942. Sunday.

      Took off in Big Dealer from Alconbury at 9:00 a. m. for Port Reath on south England coast, but before we got there we ran into some weather and soon some ‘Spits’ came up and directed the 330th to land at Exeter. At Exeter we soon took off for Hearn Hurn because there were no accommodations for us at Exeter. We had a security lecture in the afternoon and briefing at 8:00 PM.

      DECEMBER 7, 1942. Monday.

      Took off at dawn from Hearn England airport in Big Dealer with Cool, Kunze, Emmons, Gilespie, Kagarek [Kozarek] & enlisted crew, Woody etc. for Tafaraoui airdrome 20 miles from Oran. Weather ideal. Flew out to Bishops rock for rendevous with other ships of 330th plus Capt. Hoover. Asch on our wing. I spent most of day reading For Whom the Bell Tolls. Saw Lisbon off to left in passing. Flew past Gibraltar about dusk. We were fired on from naval base near Tangiers. Landed at Tafaraoui [Tafaroui] about an hour after dark. 409th & 328th took off from Point Reath flew across Spain & landed at 4:30. All 330th ships in at Tafaraoui except Ox Johnson’s and Hoovers. We remained at ship for half hour and then went in trucks to our barracks–old French barracks & torture iron slats instead of springs. In my room were Cool, Lofgren, Roche, Kunze, Emmons, Sentman and Verna le exhibition!

      DECEMBER 8, 1942. Tuesday.

      Hoover’s ship flew in about ten a.m. He had gone into Gibraltar when he saw he would land in Africa after dark. Word came that a ship had crashed in the mountains du Tessala about fifteen air line miles from Tafaraoui last night at 7:45. We soon knew the worst–Ox Johnsons ship Blasting Bastard and entire crew of 14 rubbed out. We think they read their map in feet instead of meters as they circled in sight of the lights on Tafaraoui & La Senia [Es Senia] airfields. I went up to scene of crash with Verna & Sentman in a 2½ ton truck. It was a 60 mile trip one way around the salt marsh. Hired 8 arabs to help me get bodies carried to truck. 4 burned to crisp–one I had to dig out of molten aluminum that had melted & run down the gully plane fell into after hitting hill top. Three I cut from plane. Back to Tafaraoui at ten–wet dirty & tired. Slept in dispensary as my bed wasn’t fixed.

      DECEMBER 9, 1942. Wednesday.

      Tafaraoui N. Africa. Rain, mud & cold.

      I brought back 14 bodies on truck and a half truck load of flying clothes, chutes, & personal property–ammunition, guns, etc from the mountain of crash. At 11:00PM. I left Tafaraoui with truck load of bodies & negro driver from N. O. & Chaplain Warden & drove to Oran to contact QM. Lunch at Continental Hotel, Oran. We buried our 14 dead at American Nat’l Cemetery Oran with Catholic chaplain as well as Warden officiating. I couldn’t identify Ox Johnson or McNeely but I made Ox grave #256 in row 10 anyway in order to keep he & Mc both from being unknown soldiers.

      DECEMBER 10, 1942. Thursday.

      Boys were briefed for a raid on Bizerta but mission cancelled later because of rain. Spent day in quarters reading, writing letters, and saddle soaping shoes & flying clothes. Am starting to grow a beard.

      DECEMBER 11, 1942. Friday.

      Tafaraoui, N. Africa. Rain. No flying.

      DECEMBER 12, 1942. Saturday.

      Every one up early for mess and briefing again to bomb Bizerta. Later

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