G.Weisfeld-27Dec44

n the morning of 27 December 1944, we took off from our base at Châteaudun, at about 10:30 A.M., in a C-47. We were towing a glider piloted by Lt. John D. Hill. The glider was loaded with 155mm ammunition destined for Bastogne.

About six miles out of Bastogne, while committed to our final leg of approach, we could see the German flak coming up at us. The 12 planes in front of us seemed to be making it through, but then we felt a jolt and knew that we had been hit. I looked out my window at the wing and engine on my side, turned to Joe and said, “No damage over here.” Joe replied, “None on my side.” Before I could turn and look into the cargo compartment, one of the other crew members tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Lieutenant, we are on fire.” I looked back and saw that the cargo compartment was burning and filling with smoke.

We both knew we had to wait for the glider to cut loose. As Joe flew, I set up the automatic pilot. Then we felt the glider cut loose.

Joe said “Now!” and I stood up, snapped on a chest pack (parachute) and ran for the rear door through the flames and smoke. When I got close to the door I stepped in a hole where the German shell had hit us. I got to the door and jumped. I counted to three as fast as I could and pulled the ripcord. The chute opened. I swung once and hit the ground going backwards.

Spring, 1945: Gen. Julian M. Chappell pins the Distinguished Flying Cross on 2d Lt. George N. Weisfeld. Both Weisfeld and Lt. Joe Fry received the DFC for heroism on the glidertow mission that brought heavy ammunition to Bastogne.

Not knowing whose side of the line I was on, I gathered up my chute and ducked into the nearby woods. Shortly after, I met one of our ground soldiers who walked me a short distance to a jeep that took me into Bastogne to a makeshift hospital set up in what had been a café. My face and hands were badly burned. The seat of my pants and parts of my jacket were burned through, but my woolen underwear saved me there.

In the hospital, while sitting on a table while a doctor attended to the charred skin from my face and dressed the burns, Gen. McAuliffe walked in. I remembered I had marked the location of the German anti-aircraft guns with X’s and pocketed the map before I left the plane. I gave the map to Gen. McAuliffe.

Later one of the glider pilots told me that Joe Fry, though hurt, was alright and that the radio operator and crew chief from my plane were all right, and that J. D. Hill had made it down OK.

That night I was evacuated from Bastogne by ambulance, and the next morning I was air-evacuated to a burn center in England where I remained for a month. Early in February 1945, I returned to France and rejoined my outfit, the 91st Squadron, 439th Troop Carrier Group.