Air Crew: 25 Missions. The Story of the Memphis Belle - Pilot.
CAPTAIN ROBERT K. MORGAN
Pilot
He is the officer in charge of the ship ;and is called "chief" by his crewmen, who swear by him, declare he is the best in the business Typical is the observation of Sergeant Quinlan, "Thousands of times I have seen him make that ship do the impossible." Morgan is 24, tall, competent, comes from Asheville, N. C., was an industrial engineer before going in the Army in April, 1941.
HIS STORY
IF you want in just one word how we were able to go through the hell of Europe 25 times and get back home without a casualty, I'll give it to you. The word is TEAMWORK. Until you have been over there, you can't know how essential that is. We had 10 men working together, each ready and able to help out anybody else who might need him.
Take just one example of what I am talking about. If it weren't for the tail gunner using the interphone to keep me posted on the formation behind, the top gunner reporting to me what he can see, the ball turret gunner telling me what he can see, it would be almost impossible for me to fly the airplane in combat. I can't get up and look around. Those fellows are my eyes.
In the same connection, every man in a bomber crew should know something about every other man's job. Aside from the value of having someone to take over in case of emergency, understanding the other jobs and knowing each other's problems develops teamwork. It also promotes confidence in each other and enables us to anticipate each other's needs for help.
I would like to make one suggestion to improve the training of bomber pilots. Cut down on transition training - landings and take-offs - and emphasize high altitude flying and formation flying. I could have used a lot more of that.
Now a few tips:
Before taking off on a mission, the pilot should check the airplane over from one end to the other. I mean that literally. He should check even the smallest details and never be satisfied with any-body else's word that everything is okeh.
He should consult with the navigator and get the course well in mind so that he can anticipate turns, can have some idea where the heaviest flak is going to be, etc.
Heavy flying equipment is cumbersome, and a bomber pilot doesn't need it. It never gets very cold in the cockpit, and anyway the pilot is so busy he could sweat at 35 below. I wear heavy underwear, a regular uniform and coveralls, and that's enough.
Keep your formation. I can't emphasize that too strongly. At first the idea seemed to be to get the bombs out and then go hell-bent for home. But we have learned how important it is that the formation be maintained. There have been cases when we turned a formation nearly around to pick up a man who was straggling.
The Germans always try to break up the formation and then jump the stragglers. If we concentrate our fire power by keeping the formation, the only thing they can do is to slug it out with us. They don't like that.
WE like having fighter escort. We wanted P-38's but couldn't get them. The best escort we ever had was the P-47. If they'll give us fighter protection, they'll get a lot of stragglers back home that other-wise won't make it.
As for German tricks, here's one to watch for: they are painting Focke-Wulfs with white stripes like our P-47's. It's hard to tell them apart at a distance. Also the Germans have a camouflage color that is very effective when they get up in the sun. If you aren't careful, you won't see them and they'll be on you before you know it.
The Germans are learning some things about the Americans. They used to say that we couldn't carry out daylight raids over Europe because our losses would be too great. They also said we couldn't hit pinpoint targets. We have proved them wrong on both counts.
American morale in England is good, and is getting better every day. Morale is always good when results are good. Also, we were well provided for, and the British were damned nice to us.
THERE are many incidents that I could tell you about, but here is one that stands out most vividly in my memory.
On January 23, our mission was a raid on the submarine installations at Lorient. One of the other groups went over the target first. Through the flak, fighters were beginning to attack us. Because ours was the smallest of the four groups, they concentrated on us, and for about 22 minutes they gave us hell.
Most of the attacks were from the front. One Focke-Wulf 190, attacking straight in from 12 o'clock, was heading right into us. One of us would have to move. The usual procedure would be to dive. I couldn't do that, because another group was below us, so I pulled her straight up. The shells that were intended for our nose got our tail.
I didn't know what had happened until Sergeant Quinlan started giving it to me play by play.
"Chief, the tail is hit, the whole back end is shot off!" I heard him say. "Chief, it's blazing! The whole tail is leaving the plane!"
There was a silence then. I asked for a report. Nothing happened.
Finally, I heard Quinlan's voice again, "Chief, it's still on fire! There goes another piece!"
Another silence for a minute, and then Quinlan said, "Chief, the fire has gone out." I don't need to tell you that that was the sweetest music I had ever heard.
I climbed up to look back and see what had happened. It looked like we had no tail at all. I got back in the cockpit and flew for two hours back to the base. It was tough flying, and tougher than that to set her down. The elevators were damaged so badly that the controls jammed.
But somehow we managed to get down safely. That was a close call.
