Erick, Beckham, OK -- Last Mission of Billy W. Morgan ------------------------------------------------------------------- Submitted by: David W. Morgan -- dmorgan@efn.org ----------------------------------------------------------------------- USGENWEB NOTICE: In keeping with the USGenWeb policy of providing free information on the Internet, this data may be used by non-commercial entities, as long as this message remains on all copied material. These electronic pages cannot be reproduced in any format for profit or other gain. Copying of the files within by non-commercial individuals and libraries is encouraged. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Yes, I knew Little Billy From: Donald Stone Cassville, New York January 1995 This account tells most of the happenings during World War II of the crew of which Billy Wayne Morgan was a member, and some of the things that happened after Billy was killed. We were assigned to a crew at Clovis, New Mexico. There we trained for about a month, then went to Biggs Field in El Paso, Texas for the second and third phases of training. Shortly after we got to Biggs our first pilot, a fellow by the name of Clark, was killed in a crash. About the same time the navigator was pulled off the crew and hospitalized. They were going to check me out as 1st pilot, but before that happened Frenchy was transferred in from Blithe, California and he took over the crew. The next person to be assigned to our crew was Phelps. We completed our training at El Paso and was transferred to Grand Island, Nebraska for overseas staging. The only problem with that was we were a B-24 crew at a B-17 staging area, and they were mystified. After taking about three weeks to straighten things out they loaded us onto a troop train and sent us to Camp Patrick Henry, Virginia. From there we were loaded onto a British schooner, the H.M.S. ANDES, and we headed for Casablanca Morocco. We ran along crossing the pond, then, one night we got within 6,000 yards of a German sub. Suddenly the skipper changed ends with the tub and just about dumped all of us out of our sacks. It tooks us seven days to cross and we landed the 7th of December, 1943 at Casablanca Morocco. From there we went to Camp Don Passage on the outskirts of town. An Infantry Colonel was in charge of the area and it was apparent he did not have a high regard for Air Force Personnel. He, in his zeal or glee or something overstepped his bounds, however. But we stayed at the hellhole until January 1944 at which time they flew us to Italy on a troop carrier C-47. We spent the first night in Bone NA and the second night at Gaila Sicily. The next day we arrived at San Pancrazio, Italy which was on January 7, 1944. A comical incident that I always got a kick out of happened one time at the conclusion of a 3rd time event. When we landed at San Pancrazio a driver pulled up to take us to the Squadron and I knew the driver. As we were talking on the way he was telling me about some other fellows we both knew that were in the outfit. Later we were coming back from a mission in the west coast of Italy and we had plane trouble. So we put in at a field near Naples to get it fixed. They sent us into town to bunk, and when we got transport to go back to the field, that idiot driver took us to the wrong field. When we pulled up to the gate there were a bunch of fellows waiting for a ride into town. I knew some of them, and they told me about others on the base (one of them a real good friend of mine). So we went in to see them. The next and last straw came one day when we were coming back from Toulon, France, and a fuel transfer pump went out. We could not get any gas out of the bomb bay auxiliary tanks. As a result we picked out one of the bases on Corsica and set down to get the main tanks refueled. The base transit crew parked us in a hardstand and we shut the engines down. We were the first B-24 to land at the base and the ground crew came up to look us over. It turned out that I knew most of them because I had helped train them before I went cadet. We got out of the bird and I was shaking hands and introducing them to the crew. Little Bill said to Leo Bitting, "This damn Stone knows the whole US Army." We always enjoyed the remark and have laughed about it often. We had a real good crew. It was a "Fluing, Fighting Machine" if there ever was one. However, our radio operator was the weak link. When the going got rough he would lose it. I was very unhappy with him. On the 7th mission he almost pushed Jake Stubbs out the waist window. Jake didn't have his chute on either. The radio operator wanted to get to where he could jump. His performance on that mission was the final act as far as I was concerned. . . we didn't need him. As a result he was grounded and we got another operator. Little Billy was killed on his 23rd mission. We were on our way home from Bucharest, Romania. I have a copy of the Mission Diary that Frenchy kept. Here is the way it reads: 04/04/44 Mission 22 & 23 A/C88 Bucharest, Romania Marshaling Yard Rough. Bad weather but managed to get through - good bombing - light flak - lots enemy aircraft, 30 to 40 engaged our group in combat for 45 minutes - lost 3 aircraft - many shot up. Little Billy Morgan, my ball gunner was killed in his turret by a 20mm shot. Ship well shot up - felt as if flying a hearse home. The rest (of missions) are all for Little Bill!!! Led 2nd element A FLT. Bucharest was a double credit mission due to the distance plus the distance into enemy territory. French & Naomi Phelps & Rose Marie Vivian Baldt (widow) Runnels & Naomi Stubbs & Rosie Bitting & Margie Dominick & Leah Audrey Woo (Garfield) (widow) Stone & Anna Rose Hintenach's and Johnson's crews didn't know Billy. Hintenach's crew went through training with us and we flew together on the same mission the same day. In fact, out of 8 crews that were assigned to our squadron from the group that went through together, our two crews were the only ones to finish up. . . . the other six went by the wayside. Johnson's crew got over there in May 1944. We took them on their first mission the 29th of May to Weiner-Newstadt, Austria. We got roughed up pretty well. They had a real "baptism of fire." We could not stay in formation and Hintenach left the formation to escort us back out of enemy territory. Five of Johnson's crew were lost on their 28th mission. They had to bail out over the Adriatic Sea while on their way to Munich, Germany. This letter should give you some idea about things in those days of war. Don Stone