B-17 Flying Fortress B-17 42-37965 / My Desire

History of
B-17 42-37965 / My Desire

Delivered Denver 28/10/43; Gr Island 12/11/43; ass 323BS/91BG [OR-U] Bassingbourn 20/12/43; Bombardier: Henry Bogucki (KIA) 22/2/44; {13m} MIA Wilhelmshaven 3/3/44 Pilot: Walt Pickard, Co-Pilot: Bascom Smith, Radio Operator: Edmond Crafton, Waist Gunner: Jim Dumouchel, Waist Gunner: Perry Wofford (5RTD); Navigator: Milton Pike, b-Bob Warren, Engineer / Top Turret Gunner: Ed White, Ball Turret Gunner: Darrel Moran, Tail Gunner: Lewis Alger (5KIA); flak KO’d #2, so dropped back and headed home but hit again by flak, crashed North Sea, where RAF ASR Walrus arrived but found no bodies, the other five were in ship’s dinghy; MACR 3222. MY DESIRE.

Last updated: 20. May 2020

B-17 42-37965 / My Desire Details

Transcription from the MACR 3222

Radio set (Pilot’s Radio) and the Liaison set (Radio Operators set), and in general the plane looked like a sieve. But even as badly shot up as the plane was, none of the crew members were injured.

Finally, we got out of the gunners range and got over the sea. We took stock of our possibilities of getting back to England. We had two engines out and they were windmillling which cut our speed down to 115 miles per hour, even when using full power on the other two engines. The normal cruising speed of the B-17 is 155 and stalling speed in 90. Normal gliding speed when landing is 110 mph. This meant that we were able to maintain a speed of only 5 mph over landing speed and this could be done only by using full emergency power which is supposed to be used only 5 minutes at the time. We knew that it would take us at least 1 1/2 hour to make it to England at that speed, if the other two engines held up.

I thought that we had maybe a 50-50 chance to make it and so I called all of the crew and asked them if they wanted to take the chance or if they wanted to turn back, sneak into Holland below the flak battery and bail out and take our chances of evading the enemy and eventually reaching Spain and then England. We all knew that our chances of evading were very slim that far north of France, so to a man, they all wanted to take our chances of getting back to England.

So, we started out for England. I think that we all realized that our chance of getting back were much smaller than we would admit out loud. But, we started throwing everything that we could overboard: guns, ammo., flak suits, parachutes, flak helmets, all the radio equipment but one set, and everything else that we would get loose. The radio operator started trying to get a ground station in England to give our position and try to get help, in the way of air-sea rescue boats, sent out. He never did make contact as the radio was shot out. I started trying to get contact with the VHF radio also, but I too, had no luck. Eigther this set was shot out or we were to low to reach the ground stations.

Because by this time, we were down at 3000 feet and still losing altitude very gradually. Also, at this time we started running into low cloud banks and all of our vacuum instruments were inoperative because both the inboard engines were the vacuum instruments get their “power” were out. This left only the neddle-and-ball and the compass to fly with. But I managed to fly with these and we got past that danger.

All this time we were having to run the two outboard engines at full emergency power to maintain our speed and try to hold out altitude. Finally we were down to 1500 feet and were only about 15 miles from England and we started passing over an occasional boat or ship which made us feel better, since if we did have to ditch we thought they could pick us up fairly rapidly. At this point, out #1 engine finally burned out and quit cold. This left us no choice but to crash land and at once. We had passed over a fairly large ship just before then and so I turned around and started in for the landing.

I was trying to land as close as possible to this ship. But at our altitude and speed, there was not much maneuvering that could be done. In fact, about all I could do was stick the nose down and try to keep from stalling.

The sea was pretty rought that day, the waves had crests of from 4 to 5 feet but I was very lucky and made a comparativly smooth landing. The ship did not break up and none of the crew member were injured. The crew all did a very fine job on the ditching procedure and no one was excited or rattled. I was one of the first of the crew, and got the life raft out on my side. And this was the final blow- it was shot almost the ribbons. Only one side was intact and could be inflated. The other Dinghy was shot up so bad that it would not even come out of its storage place. This meant that we could have to get directly into the water. The channel is very, very cold in the winter time. It is claimed that 4 minutes is the maximum time that a man can live in the water.

I ordered the crew to remove their heavy flying boots and other heavy clothing since they would give no protection and would only tent to weight them down. We were not too worried at this point because we could see the boat coming our way at full speed and there was a P-51 flying overhead showing the boat where we were. (we were out of sight to the boat because of the high wave crests) The plane floated for six minutes after we landed, then we had to get in the water.

We all grouped around the Dinghy that was partly inflated and held on to it. We hof, of cource, our Mae West’s to help hold us up. That is, all of us except Sgt. Crafton who was floating alone off to one side and Sgt. Alger had gotten separated from the group and his Mae West did not inflate. Sgt. Wofford was the nearest to him and so he swam over and helped him to get back to the dinghy. We were all in good spirits at this time and were really not worried, but I noticed that the cold was affecting the men, because most of them had starting getting a slightly glazed expression in their eyes. I told them to start moving their arms and legs around as much and as rapidly as possible to try to keep the circulation up.

Another bad break became apparent at this time, the place that we had landed was too shallow for the boat to come up directly alongside us, and yet it was too deep for the plane to remain on the top of the water. So, they had to send a small row-boat over to us.

From this point on, five really stepped in if it had not ridden us enough allready. As I said before, Sgt. Crafton was off to one side away from the group, and he was the first one the small boat got to. They pulled him aboard first and then came on over to us. The boat came up to the side of the dinghy that Sgt. Wofford, Lt. Smith the co-pilot, a substitue waist gunner, and myself were one. Lt. Smith and myself were both hollering and pointing to Sgt. Alger whose Mae West was not working, and Sgt. White who could not swim (but he, Sgt. White, was among the collest of the bunch and was not having and trouble) we were trying to tell them to get Sgt.’s White and Alger first, but they probally did not understand and thought we were in trouble, so they pulled Lt. Smith, the substite waist gunner and myself into the boat.

From this point on, most of my story is from what I have pieced together from some of the crew who did not pass out and from the crew of the trawler that picked us up. Because, we had been in the water for thirty minutes and I suppose when that cold air his us that is what made us pass out. At any rate the rest was and is, very dim in my memory.

The small boat was too small to carry all ten of us in addition to the crew from the trawler. The seas were very high that day and they told me later that we nearly did not make it back to the trawler ourselves. So, they started back with us with the intension of coming back for the other five.

Several hours later when we had been received with blankets, hot rum and massage by the crew members of the trawler. The skipper of the boat came down and told me that he had seen a British Warlus (flying boat) land about 15 minutes after they picked us up. He taxied over to the dinghy, then taxied back over by the trawler and held up five fingers point down. The skipper understood this to mean that he had all five of them in the hull of his ship. So, they did not send the small boat back.

We all thought they were safe until about two days later when we got back to our base. We had been carried to an RAF hospital until we had recovered to some extent. When we got back to base, we found that they had heard nothing from the other five. So my Squadron Commander and myself started calling Air-Sea Rescue Headquarters to try to find out where they were. Then we got the report, that we had dreaded getting.

All floating face down in the water, with the exception of Sgt. Alger who had already sunk. Their bodies were never recovered.

Walter M. Pickard
Capt. A.C. (Inative-Res.)

B-17 42-37965 / My Desire Crew