Descendants Corner

Summer, 2003

Catherine D. Bishop’s father, TSgt Francis G. O’Connell flew with the 390th - 570th Bomb Squadron. Mrs. Bishop, MSgt USAF (retired), widow of Major Hal Bishop (fighter pilot), has certainly shared many, many interesting stories about her father and the 390th! You will reap this golden treasure as the months go by in upcoming Square J’s. Her willingness to share these accounts will allow us all a window into a brave man’s world….…..here we go…

A PIECE OF HISTORY FOUND
Catherine O’Connell Bishop

My father, TSgt Francis G. O’Connell, flew with the 390th Bomb Group, 570th Bomb Squadron. On his 15th mission returning from the Hamm, Germany marshalling yards, he was shot down. The 390th Bomb Group museum helped me locate other crew members after my father passed away. One of those who helped me piece together the past was Horace Huron who during that mission was in the top turret.

During Horace’s captivity as a POW in Krems, Austria, he composed poetry. Later, after a long march in winter, he finally documented these writings on paper. This poem is an abstract form because he composed it in Spanish and later translated it into English for his children.

Horace’s family has been living in Texas since the mid 1700’s and his family helped defend the Alamo. His family tree-maker has a wonderful history including documents and photos of a family who has served in the service of this country including the Texas Rangers, World War II, and at other times when the protection of freedom and democracy was needed.

Thank you Horace, for sharing this with me and allowing me to share it with others.

FLYING I FOUGHT FOR MY COUNTRY
by TSgt Horace Huron

In winter I left the States
They send me to England
Arriving we were camped 
to help finish the war

The British received us
With pleasure, honor, and happiness
Then they introduced us
To the enemy of my country

They gave us a fine bomber
When we began our missions
To give the Germans the destiny
That the other nations suffered

We were a group of ten
That flew in our bomber
Skilled, determined and rapidly
Operating each his position

We went on many missions
Combating and destroying without end
Including on some occasions
Going to bomb Berlin

The enemy defend himself
Trying to save his capital
But very soon realized 
That our armada was fatal

In each mission I would notice
My comrades in so much danger
To the Lord with faith I would acclaim
And I would ask him to go with me

The group arising again
On April the twenty second
As my bomber hid in the clouds
To the base we said goodbye

In the formation we took our place
Flying and protecting our position
But we never realized 
That we would never return

Toward Germany we went
Very soon we arrived at the continent
The target then we destroyed
Being mission number twenty

Flying through the heights of heaven
As usual I started to pray
They were shooting flack from the ground
The enemy trying to bring us down

My copilot gave us information
Of enemy planes in the vicinity
The sky we searched with precaution
To not allow the enemy an opportunity

When we least expected soon after
The enemy was blocking our path
Spraying us with bullets and with such swiftness
Very soon they gave us our destiny
We too gave them combat
Opening fire to my machine guns
The first suffered our destruction
And in flames left the heavens

But at the moment came the order
Of my pilot to bailout
Because my bomber was burning
And he could not control it

I put on my parachute
To obey the order given
Toward the door I ran
Before my bomber would explode

Jumping into the sky I notice
That through the air I was rolling
I pulled the cord of my parachute
And very slowly it brought me down

Hitting the ground I started running
Trying to escape from the enemy
But the civilians knew where I fall
And they looked till they found me

The German language I did not understand
But I told them that I was an American
They searched all of my clothes
To have me locked up

In this prison I pass the days
Lying in bed thinking of my country
Asking God to bring happiness
To have victory and end the war

My verses terminate here
They end with my last mission
These are flights that flying I saw
Signing off…Horace Huron

….our deepest love and respect are conveyed to Horace Huron…and Cathy Bishop. Horace and Cathy email back and forth quite often…how fortunate they found each other….and shared their words with all of us!

We are waiting to hear from you….please send your recollections and honored memories to mward@ctcn.net. You will be reading more from Mrs. Bishop in the months to come…..

Marcia Balmut Ward