Lehug Drome 1st November 1944

This mission to Lehug Airdrome at Cebu City took place on 1 November, 1944. The members of our crew were: 2nd Lt. George Pope (co‑pilot), 2nd Lt. Donald E. Kruse (navigator), Cpl. Andrew N. D'Alicandro (flight engineer/top turret gunner), Cpt. George C. Marcelynas (radio operator), Cpt. Raymond A. Horcher (tail gunner). Cpt. Horcher was the oldest man on the crew, and he and I were the only married members assigned to the 823rd Bomb Squadron. We arrived during September 1944.

Our aircraft was on the lead ship's right wing. Our approach to the target required a rather tight right turn to line up on the airstrip. To stay in formation, this put our B‑25 lower than usual and from my co‑pilot seat looking past the lead ship to the left wingman, I could see he was hung out there quite high. Our "run" over the airstrip only took a few seconds, then we were heading out over the bay. I saw that the left wing B‑25 had the bomb‑bay doors open and fire was coming out of the belly. He was dropping down to the water. Our tail gunner reported seeing them ditch in the water and the crew climbing out on the wing with enemy fire coming at them from all directions.

(Aerothentic Comment – this aircraft was B-25J-5-NA serial # 43-27975 ditched off Cebu City and flown by John Keglovitz)

We stayed with the lead ship to provide escort because he had a wounded top gunner and he was trying to get to a medical facility at Tacloban on Leyte. We approached Tacloban over land from the southwest. There was a small island some distance offshore from Tacloban. Friendly aircraft approaching Tacloban were supposed to make a left hand turn around that small island for "recognition" purposes. However, at this time there were ferocious air/sea battles going on. There were many Navy vessels nearby and as many aircraft mixing it up overhead.

Instead of flying through all that, the lead ship began a left turn over land. As our turn began, I saw red tracers coming up around us. Then I saw the pilot feathering the left engine. I wondered, "Why is he doing that . . . in a turn!" I looked at the gauges. The left engine was dead. The navigator tapped me on the shoulder and pointed out my right side window. The right engine was on fire. I hollered to the pilot with this news, he glanced out the right side, rolled the plane out of the turn and lined up on a grass airstrip straight ahead. The lead plane continued his left turn and did not see what happened to us. George Pope made a fine landing, wheels up, on that grass strip. It belonged to the Japanese until our troops "liberated" it three days before we got there. The strip was called "Dulag No. 3". Someone had put some long sticks on the ground to mark land mines. Our plane had knocked down a couple of those sticks and stopped sliding about 20 feet from another one.

Those of the aircrew up front climbed out through the top hatch, jumped to the ground and ran. I jumped down off the end of the nose and ran forward, dodging that stick. I didn't know what it was then. Everybody got out of that B‑25 without a scratch. There was an Army anti‑aircraft outfit ahead, off the side of the airstrip. They came to us and took us to the safety of their emplacements while the plane burned to the ground. Oh, my, the fireworks! The fuel tanks boomed and flared one at a time. The guns were still charged and when the ammo began cooking off from the heat, the ammo in the guns made a whole different sound from the ammo in the cans. Also, the guns gave those slugs direction, straight down the runway ! We hid in the pits at the artillery pieces, behind sandbags. Those guys assured us they were not the ones that shot us down ‑ it was another outfit, closer to the beach. Anyway, it was our own side that did it. When the fire died down, we went to the plane and looked around. There were puddles of aluminum cooling. About all that was left were wing tips and tail. There was a number 7 painted on the fabric of one rudder. I cut out the number seven to keep.

The artillery people took us in vehicles to another unit where we were fed and spent the night. This unit was an artillery spotter outfit and they flew Piper Cubs. We heard some good war stories from them. They next day, those nice folks used two of their planes to fly us to Tacloban. It took several trips. I lost my number 7 when the wind sucked it out the open window. When we got to Tacloban, the pilot and I were taken to a nearby office where we were told that a higher headquarters wanted to debrief us. So we were taken by Jeep to some place south of Tacloban. On the way, we passed the wreckage of vehicles of all kinds and a few planes; one in particular was a Navy SBD. I think I know what happened to him. We arrived, told our story and headed back to Tacloban. On the way, we heard automatic gunfire ahead. The driver pulled off the road and we got out.

Here came two P‑47s, low and from the north. Our guys on the ground were shooting at them. The P‑47s turned east toward the water. One was hit and smoking. The pilot bailed out, the plane went in the water, the pilot (in his 'chute) landed in the water. A boat went out and picked him up. The remaining P‑47 came back around and buzzed the airstrip with his wheels down. We got back in the Jeep and hurried to the airstrip to see what would happen next. We got there in time to see the P‑47 swing around and park, wings parallel to the runway. Before the pilot could get out and complain to somebody, a Major climbed up on the left wing and chewed him out royally for bringing a single‑engine fighter into the area. It seems there was a rule against single‑engine fighters (American) so that the troops on the ground would have no problem figuring out which ones to shoot at. Very confusing times!

After that, we hitched a ride back "home" on a C‑47 to Morotai. Our squadron did not know what had happened to us. Our crew earned 12 1/2 points on that mission. The pilot was awarded the distinguished Flying Cross and the rest of the crew each received the Air Medal.. It was my twelfth mission out of forty-four. No one was ever injured when we all flew as a crew. However, we did lose our navigator and radio man (at different times) when they had to fly with other crews. Later, in time for Thanksgiving day, our crew was given a week of R & R in Sydney, Australia.

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