Descendants Corner

Spring, 2004

Stepping Back in Time

Standing up here on the old control tower, the landscape changes, as time flows backwards. To a bygone era, where farmland becomes an airbase overflowing with servicemen. It is dawn’s early light, with a light wind blowing and clear skies. There is a flurry of activity on the ground, men moving all about. They are preparing the huge lumbering planes for another mission. B-17s, Flying Fortresses, a square J on their tails, the mighty 390th. Four engines and gun turrets protrude. Everything is checked and double checked, baffle ready.

The flight crews come out and climb aboard, another day, another battle. The pilots in the cockpit, the gunners in their seats, the navigator checking his instruments, and bombs safely cradled in racks. The engines sputter to life and the air roars with the noise of the propellers turning. Slowly the Fortresses move forward, towards the runway, as they each wait in turn for clearance from the tower. One by one, clearance is given, as they race down the runway and into the skies over England.

Climbing up in the skies and moving into formation, they fly out over the Framlingham Castle and eastward towards the English Channel. Some of them know they may not be coming back and see the sight of that castle, a castle that said they were almost home.

The battle over Germany is fierce, the flak flying, the bombs whistle through the air towards the ground. The plumes of smoke from the bombs rise upward and planes in flames go spinning downward. Some of the bombs end up in the river and dead fish float upward, others hit their mark. The losses are great, but today’s mission target, a munitions factory, is a success.

The Fortresses head homeward, their skins riddled with flak holes and some engines are coughing for dear life. Back over the English Channel they come, as the sun slowly starts to sink in the west, pale pink and purple striate the sky. Back over the castle, those who see it give out a small sigh of relief and a prayer of thanks. They made it back, to fly another day, while others did not. They line up in the sky, one by one, looking like pearls on a string. All waiting for clearance to land, those who are in trouble land first.
The first one down, only has one engine running, another is billowing smoke and flames. The wheels hit the tarmac and brakes are applied, the tires squealing as it skids off the runway and onto the grass. Emergency crews quickly put out the flames and remove the injured. Then the next plane comes in for a landing, one by one, they come down and taxi back to their respective nests.

Finally, all the Fortresses are down and counted. 8 planes are lost that day, over 90 men died. They all died for their beliefs, the belief that everyone deserves to live freely from oppression and tyranny. Those who came home, would continue to fight for those beliefs, until one side finally won. Night has finally set, the injured will be helped and planes repaired. The crews head to the mess to eat. Then off to their Quonset huts for much needed sleep. More planes and men will be brought in to replace those lost in today’s battle. Another dawn will come, another mission will be flown and will be successful.

Time reverts to the present, where the airbase once stood, now is a farm again. Remnants of secondary runways can be seen with clumps of grass growing through the cracks. Scattered over the landscape are living quarters, cinema, generator building, washhouse, and officers quarters. The fully restored control tower, now a museum. This is all that is left of the 390th Bomb Group’s base and their legacy of being the very best. The record of their accomplishments in helping turn the tide of World War II is down in black and white. Along with other bomb groups like them, all over the English countryside, those once oppressed are now free.

We must never forget what these brave men did to make this world a safer place. That the beliefs of every person on this Earth is that they should be able to live in peace, harmony and freedom. Standing here and looking out, seeing the past, helps me appreciate the courage and bravery of those young men. The pride that I feel that my father was one of those brave young men, who happened to fly one of those Flying Fortresses is great. I’ll never forget and neither do I hope, will you.

Dedicated to the all of the brave men of the 390th
Janet E. Keough
Daughter of former co-pilot, Edward Forrest Cooper III
571st Squadron