Surviving a year of air combat: From D-day to V-E day

Flight Journal, Fall 2003 by Cleaver, Thomas McKelvey

DURING THE SUMMER, DAWN COMES EARLY IN England. At 0200, the rumble of 48 Pratt & Whitney R-2800s reverberated over the quiet English countryside that surrounded the former RAF base of Beaulieu Roads between Southampton and Bournemouth-home to the 9th Air Force's 365th Fighter Group. On the taxiway, the big P-47s-resplendent in their black and white identification stripes, hurriedly applied by the ground crews two nights before-S-turned heavily under their loads of two, 500-pound bombs and a 110-gallon drop tank as they awaited their turn to take off into the sunrise.

At the runway, the flagman checked each pair as they moved into position; the engines roared as the pilots advanced their throttles to takeoff power and began to roll as the flagman waved them off. In the middle of the 16 P-47s of the 388th Fighter Squadron, 1st Lt. Archie Maltbie ran his hands over his wool pants to dry his palms, then pulled on his flying gloves. It was June 6, 1944.

"I'll never forget what it was like that day. There were so many airplanes in the sky that there was a serious risk of collision, and there were so many ships in the Channel, it seemed that you could have walked across from ship to ship from England to France." The 365th FG's assignment for that day was to patrol the Cotentin Peninsula to ensure that the Germans weren't able to reinforce their units facing the invading Americans at Omaha and Utah Beaches. After an hour, the Thunderbolts were free of their bombs and most of their ammunition. Returning to base, the pilots told the excited ground crews what they had seen. After a quick meal, they were back in their planes for a second sweep of the beachhead.

"We thought that was it for the day when we got back from the second mission, but all of a sudden, there was a call that radar had picked up the Luftwaffe heading toward the beaches, and all the airplanes that had been fueled were scrambled." In fact, the only two members of the Luftwaffe to make an appearance over the Normandy beaches on D-day were Oberst Josef "Pips" Priller, Geschwader Kommodore of JG26, and his wingman.

"By the time we got there, Priller had already made his famous run over the beaches and gotten out of there." When they returned, night had fallen on England. "It really was the longest day I can ever remember," says Maltbie.

In the following weeks, the men of the 365th averaged a mission a day, regardless of the weather; this was far more than the two to three missions per week the unit had flown in the weeks leading up to the invasion and since Maltbie had arrived in England the preceding April. As busy as those weeks were, two missions still stand out in memory.

"The breakout from St. Lo was the greatest massing of airpower I ever saw. First, practically the entire 8th Air Force struck the German lines, and it seemed like we were orbiting off to the side forever, waiting for all those bombers to fly over the target. They had divided the roads behind the front into grids, with a squadron of fighter-bombers assigned to each. As soon as the heavies turned away, we bombed and strafed every square inch. It was incredible to think that anyone could have survived that."

Following the breakout from St. Lo, which effectively ended the Battle of Normandy, Gen. George S. Patton's Third Army was sent east in an attempt to cut off the retreating German army by linking up with Montgomery's army. As they realized they were being cut off, the Germans fought harder to maintain an escape route and managed to prevent the meeting of the American and Commonwealth armies by holding an area around the town of Falaise that would become known historically as "The Falaise Gap." For 10 days, Allied fighter-bombers from the USAAF and the RAF struck the German forces relentlessly from dawn to dark.

"After the third day, you could smell it in the cockpit-even at altitude-before you got there," Maltbie recalled. "All those men, and the horses and other animals they used to pull the carts, all the equipment that was burned up. It was a smell you could never forget." As British Typhoons rocketed the German panzers, American P-47s dive-bombed the convoys and strafed everywhere. "You almost felt sympathy for the Germans trapped down there."

On July 18, Maltbie's squadron was flying a strike mission over the gap. "We had just dive-bombed a railroad overpass to the east of Falaise. As we were re-forming from the attack, air control alerted us that there were enemy aircraft in the area. The sky was very cloudy. All of a sudden, we spotted four P-51s being attacked by about 20 Messerschmitt 109s. The 11 of us dove into the fight to help the Mustangs. The 109s scattered after our first pass and then came back around to fight. All of a sudden, I had a 109 on my tail, and as I was taking evasive action, my wingman yelled over the radio that I had a bomb hung."

With the 500-pounder still under one wing, Maltbie was at a considerable disadvantage compared with the more nimble Messerschmitt, and he twisted and turned over the forest, trying to shake his attacker.