Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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Sortie Ii was the 2‘lth of March in Foggia, Italy, at the air base of the 463(1 Bomber Croup. Hie day was only three and one-hall hours old and was damp and very muddy. The black, shifting smoke from the 100 octane gas fires burning in the makeshift stores of the te nts gave an appearance as in Pittsburgh. I'lie Colonel, on his rounds, was wakening the fellows scheduled for the day’s bombing mission. Presently, he earner to I’-.SO where he found silence but for the bustling around ol my two pups, Battle Orders and Stand Down”—from orders ol the clay: Battle Order being snow white, meaning we would fly because of suitable weather. “Stand Down” being jet black, meaning we would stand down on ac- count of bad weather. There were seven of us in this six-man tent, but we made out nicely by building extensions, making tables, lockers, and chairs, acquiring some candles, and tigging up a radio. Five of us belonged to one crew, and the other two on another, but they weren't scheduled to fly. We were quite easy to waken as we had anticipated a rough mission today. There was some kidding as usual, but it seemed to be hiding a tenseness due to the secrecy ol the sortie. Without chaos, the gunners took their turn at the wash basin a steel helmet mounted on a sawed-oll 100-pound practice bomb casing. We lilc-d out. grabbing our mess kits from our cots. Soon we were sitting down to our usual breakfsat of dehydrated eggs, after sweating out a brief wait in line. As we walked back to our tents, the sun was rising, turning the sky blood red. The fifteen minute s before briefing we used putting our tents in good shape. At the- briefing room, we quieted down right away. The Major, a heavy-set moustached man of around forty, was ascending the steps of the platform, fol- lowed by his two aides. The room was quiet except lor the footfalls of these three. page twenty-one

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Well, the old grey boat is gone at last. During the night a northeaster blew in the rising tide, and the storming waves lilted her Irom the high ground on which she has rested these many winters. Now she lies over in the marsh, her side torn asunder, her ribs sticking out like the carcass of last Sunday’s turkey. My father built her himself up at Quincy High School during the winter of 1910. He made the pattern from the boat of an old Swede, I think his name was Swenson, a natural-born fisherman and lover of the sea, who gave my father many valuable hints. Cypress for the sides, oak for the prow, yellow pine for the bottom, and nothing but brass screws, copper nails, and galvanized fittings would do. Then, finally, painted a shiny, battleship grey, she was placed on exhibition at the end of the school term, along with other articles turned out by students. Somehow, grey seemed to be her color and we never varied it. She always seemed happiest just to lie out there in the water without drawing too much attention, and. thereafter, she came to be known as “the grey boat.” Yes, she was quite a boat and she had mam admirers. First, of course, was my father, her creator, and then, in time, my brother. Even in the cold grey hours of winter dawn, when the snow was thick and ice stiffened the anchor rope so that it had to be laid lengthwise along the gunwales, these two would steal out to some fog-covered island and pile great masses of seaweed on the rocks for a blind. Then, with their guns in one hand and a brace of ducks in the other, the conquering heroes returned, cold and ravenous, to a glowing fire and a steam- ing pot of savory victuals. From early spring when the flounders first came out of the mud. until late fail when the smelts swarmed in schools along the edge of the eel grass, someone was out in her. I guess it was love from the first time I sat in her and liked the feel of the swells. As I grew up. I learned to row and. funny thing. I just knew that nothing serious could happen in that good old sturdy, flat-bottomed, grey boat. Maybe it was a mysterious vovage to an undiscovered shore in search of buried treasure, or a merry picnic on a distant island at which we children would bask in luxurious thoughts and dance with joy for days in advance. The old grey boat almost came to life and enjoyed the pastime as much as we. I remember well those lazy afternoons snoozing under an old straw hat to the deep rolling lullaby of the long, drowsy swells and the steady quiver of the undisturbed fish line, or even a frolicking water battle when no one could possibly emerge without a sound ducking or hearts splash. Never once did she mind our rocking or abuse; she seemed to love every moment. But now. she’s gone and 1 shall miss her. I never knew what was considered a decent end for a boat. Somehow. I always thought of a boat lying out there on the beach, filled with shifting sands and slowly disintegrating as lime and rot and beating waves carried it into oblivion. Guess I'll just leave the old grey boat where she lies. Some child seeking driftwood will come along and take parts of her home, and the stove or open fireplace will glow blue and green and red from the copper and brass and salt in her. She won’t mind or think she has come to an inglorious end, because she has given us memories and to us she will always be the symbol of freedom, youth, and adventure. Marilyn Soithwicr page twenty :

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The first word caused excitement, but little noise—BERLIN. Berlin was a rough mission, even with short Hying time, hard on the nerves, but this was to be the longest mission ever flown by this type of plane. They first told us the heading, altitude, and weather conditions, giving the gunners a warning to be extremely alert for enemy planes. The target was a panther tiger tank factory— heavily fortified—in the heart of the city. At this point the gunners all filed out to get their gear out of the personal equipment bin, to clean and check their guns for malfunctions. The pilot, navigator, bombardier, and radioman re- mained for extra instruction. Twenty minutes later we were all together at the plane, rushing to get our equipment and chaff aboard. The tenth plane left the ground with a terrific slipstream which rocked us from side to side. We were next on the turnibas. In a short space of time “Sno Snap” and the crew arrived at the rendezvous point. In a few moments all the planes had arrived, and soon we were flying along on our heading which was almost true north. We slowly gained altitude over the Adriatic Sea, Yugoslavia, and when we were in Austria, we started getting flak. It was the most accurate I have ever seen, or the whole group for that matter. During the running oi this gauntlet we lost thirty per cent of our ships. Next on the flak line parade was Prague, Czechoslovakia. The flak was fairly heavy but inaccurate. We came through this with only one loss. We were coming up to Berlin when all of a sudden the tail gunner muttered over the interphone, very distinctly. “ME262 5 o’clock high.” I swung my 50 around: for a moment I couldn’t see him. Then he became as clear as an ink spot on a piece of white paper: the jet looked just like the pictures I’d seen at aircraft identification. 1 gave him only one burst, but it was rather long. He- then seemed to go out of control and went swerving back and forth and down. A short moment later four P-5l’s swished by my window going down in the direction of the jet. 1 wasn't much moved by the attack because of an accident that happened to the radioman. As soon as the tail gunner had called out the enemy plane, the radio man gave a start to get up and became entangled in his lines. He forgot about the camera pit to his right on the floor where he had to stand to fire his gun. As he jumped up, he tripped and went into the hole. All the time I was firing, I was doubled with laughter at his helpless condition. Just after the attack we noticed an oval structure on the ground which was a Colosseum very near the target. Immediately I sat down and started throwing chaff out of the chute. This chaff was a counter radar measure, and as it went floating by the planes, it gave me a comforting sense of security. f age twenty-two