1st-Hand Accounts

War Diary/Flight Log, Col. Charles H. Young

5 September 1944, Tuesday

Upottery to Amiens, France and back to Upottery. Led resupply mission, 75 ships of gasoline. 5:25 flying time, C-47A, No. 43-15159.

6 September 1944, Wednesday

With Capt. Merryman, Maj. Fee, and Capt. Karl Urken, I flew The Argonia from London (Northolt), and transported 15 million Belgian francs to Paris (Le Bourget). Back to Upottery. 5:05 flying time, C-47A, No. 43-15159.

9 September 1944, Saturday

Move of air echelon to A-68, Juvincourt, France, near Reims. [This was a forward field that had only such gasoline and supplies that we hauled in. Possibly this was intended as a base for a fighter group, as we had to fly back to England to pick up loads for resupply.] 2:25, C-47B, No. 48397.

10 September 1944, Sunday

Following is the translation of a German letter I picked up in a barracks at Juvincourt, north of Reims, France today. This airfield has only recently been captured by the Americans, and we heard occasional gunfire not far away last night. The barracks building in which I found this letter was in considerable disarray, indicating that the Germans had departed in some haste.

Idar-Oberstein 2

June 27, 1944

Dear Hans:

Much rather I would call you little Hans, but this I cannot do, since you are already living in the middle years of your life.

First of all, I want to thank you for your kind remembrance at the occasion of my birthday and your letter of June 14. The letter which you enclosed I gave to your father immediately upon receipt. Surely he has answered you by now. You could have been more explicit in your letter to me knowing that my influence is not small. Your dear mother is really worried about you, her dearest one, but which mother and woman does not show concern in this day and hour.

That you have already been placed near the battle-line I could hardly believe. Needless to say, our one wish and hope is that all will go well. In a letter which we received yesterday from Uncle Otto, he describes his trip to the front. In the former letter he mentioned that he would perhaps be transferred to the west, but apparently this was not the case, and the poor boy is now stationed opposite those terrible Russians. I am greatly worried about him.

Yes, dear Hans, everyone has his burden to bear. We who are at home will gladly hold out, if only you dear ones return safely.

With kind greetings and good wishes,

Your Aunt Martha

11 September 1944, Monday

Moved part of air echelon back to Balderton. Juvincourt to Upottery to Balderton.

15 September 1944, Friday

Flew from Balderton to Mendlesham to Juvincourt. Capt. John N. Young on leave from 34th Bombardment Group flew co-pilot for me today (see photo). 3:25, C-47A, 43-151159. Wing and Group commanders’ briefed today for MARKET.

16 September 1944, Saturday

Led balance of air echelon back today from Juvincourt. John flew co-pilot on trip back to Balderton. Air crews briefed today for MARKET.

17 September 1944, Sunday

This was a big day for us, and for Troop Carrier and Airborne in general. We didn’t lose even one airplane. The two serials had a total of eight airplanes damaged, plus a glider in Lt. Col. Barrere’s column that ran into trouble and had to ditch, with all rescued. One pilot--Lt. Vincent Ruby of the 91st--returned to Balderton when the load shifted in the glider he was towing. He took off again, and flew in alone. He delivered his glider at the LZ, and then got hit by flak on the way back, but the report is that he may live [he did: he recovered, and was shipped home].

It was a daylight drop, and therefore much easier from a lead standpoint than either of our other invasions. It was easily our most successful job yet. IX TCC estimates 41 planes lost, or about 3.5 percent. Our casualties are light, though most groups may not have fared so well.

The route was from Balderton to March, to Aldeburgh, then directly across the North Sea to West Schouwen, to the east end of that island, to the Initial Point four miles south of ’s Hertogenbosch, then to the DZ one and one‑half miles south of Groesbeek. Our briefed altitude was 1,500' in and 3,000' out, but due to a variable cloud deck from 2,000' to 6,500,' it was necessary to change from the assigned altitudes several times. We came back out of enemy territory around 6,000 feet most of the way.

About five miles inland from Schouwen we saw bursts of flak off to the left ahead, short of a column of Horsa gliders at which they were shooting. Fighters gave us excellent support; four of them shot up a gun position on a docked ship at the east end of Schouwen right under our noses before they could fire a shot at us. Every direction we looked, up, down, or sideways, we saw airplanes. It’s a thrill to be a part of an operation so gigantic.

I’ve never had a sensation before like I had today. It could be approximated by tying a person to a wall and shooting at him with a machine gun from a distance of 175 yards for ten seconds. Just before reaching our drop zone, at 520 feet above the ground, I saw a crew of Germans run to their guns, which must have been about 20mm, and fire at me and the ships behind me while we flew directly over them. We could see the whitish-yellow flames at the gun muzzles, and the tracers went by our cockpit on both sides at the same time. The guns sounded like people beating on the airplane with sledge hammers. It’s hard to describe that sensation—you want to duck, but there’s no place to duck. You get mad, but you don’t have anything to hit back with. You’re scared—bad, and none of us deny it. I looked back at my crew and the paratroopers, and they were looking at me. You wonder how much more of it you can stand, and then it stops. I saw two planes go down in flames just before they shot at us. The second one looked like he had an engine on fire. It smoked badly, and someone in his formation called, “G for George, you’re on fire—bail out!”, and repeated it. His formation was paralleling ours about a mile to our right, and I broke radio silence too and said “G for George, get your troops out! Jump your troops!” But he made a wide turn until it either exploded or a wing burned off, and went almost straight down near St. Anthonis.

Our drop (see photo) was right on the DZ (see map), after which we made a normal climbing turn to the right and back over the course to base. The boys were flying such a beautiful formation on the return that I waggled my wings to signal close up for review (see photos), and took them down to 200 feet over the control tower. I led our 30 paradrop ships today, and Lt. Col. Barrere, CO of the 93d Squadron, led the glider lift of 50 planes towing CG-4As, which took off right behind us.