Saturday (Sept. 14th)
morning we had an interesting drive to Kovarska through Czech countryside and
lots of little towns and villages, winding our way to this town that no
one
had heard of (hotel, airport, etc.)! Jan’s directions were perfect, however,
and we arrived in ~ 1 ½ hours at “Hotel Central” – 15 minutes before the
official start of the reunion. Jan came to meet us briefly, then introduced us
to Mateus to guide us to the museum. We dumped our bags and headed out on foot
– just a 5-minute walk to the “Museum
of the Air Battle over the Ore Mountains on 11th September, 1944
in Kovarska” for the 9th International WWII Airmen Reunion and
celebration of the museum’s 5th anniversary.
The museum was a huge
display of artifacts and memorabilia from the battle over Kovarska – part of the
Allied raid on Ruhland – fought by US Army Air Force and Germans Luftwaffe. Jan
Zdiarsky, the director, is a passionate ball of energy dedicated to locating
both survivors and wreckage/remains from this conflict over his home town. (He
teaches computer science in Prague during the week, and keeps an apartment in
Kovarska to run the museum on weekends.) The “reunion” was amazing – an
opportunity for veterans to establish dialogue and friendship. The Czechs (who
escaped the German occupation to fly with the RAF) acted as “hosts”, but tended
to keep to themselves. However, we heard a lot of their amazing stories as the
day progressed (including being treated as traitors after the war, when the
Russians occupied Czechoslovakia – putting some in camps for several more
years!)
The most fascinating
part of the reunion was Dad’s opportunity to meet three German Luftwaffe fighter
pilots – Manfred, Helmut, and Deiter. They were extremely kind,
open
and interesting – and spoke enough English (along with Dad’s little German) that
they could truly share stories. It turned out that there was a strong
possibility that Manfred’s Fockewolfe and Dad’s B-17 may have actually inflicted
serious damage on each other! It was a truly tragic battle for both sides.
Dad’s squadron of 12 planes left from England on that memorable date: September
11, 1944 – headed for a raid on Ruhland, Germany. Apparently their fighter
escort was delayed, and they were besieged by German fighters, resulting in the
11 other planes in his 349th squadron of the 100th bomber
group being shot down (all were killed or captured). Dad’s plane was hit, too,
and went into a spin, but came out of it (radioman bailed out and was
captured)…. Eventually they made their way back across Germany without
hydraulics, dumping everything they could to lighten the load (including
manually releasing all but two of the 500-pound bombs on board –
which
they couldn’t reach)… and crash landing in German-occupied France because they
didn’t have enough fuel to reach liberated Paris…. More on that later… Anyway,
Dad’s bomber fired on and hit a Fockewolfe in the tail before/after that fighter
hit them… and Manfred’s fighter was hit in the tail and he fired at and saw a
B-17 (?Dad’s?) go into a spin and come out of it. It would be incredible if
they really hit each other, with both part of the few lucky ones that were able
to crash land and live to tell about it!
After the reunion, we
walked to the town square for a moving Memorial Service, attended by most of the
townsfolk (population of Kovarska = 500 – down significantly
since the war). There were many speeches
(from Jan, Dad, Charlie Stein -- an American veteran from another bomber group
shot down and captured -- Manfred, and a representative of the US Embassy in
Prague), wreath laying ceremonies, a fly-over, etc. Afterwards, the veterans
were bombarded with requests for autographs by the locals (some to save, some to
sell, we were told).
From there we went to
the hotel for a delicious lunch --vegetable noodle soup, tender beef in gravy
with potato-bread dumplings, wine, beer, etc. Conversation was lively with the
Germans at our table – another Luftwaffe vet and the son of another – and locals
who witnessed the battle as children (most hiding in the basement of the
school). The next event was held at the school across the street (a plane
crashed into it during the battle) where they had a competition for the school
children and townsfolk in artwork and models pertaining to WWII.
The veterans were all
seated at a long table and for ~ one hour took questions
from
the public. In summary, these veterans – then in their early 20’s – just
“wanted the war to be over!” (Some who went to POW camps had to wait longer –
and the Czechs, who left to fight with the RAF were later charged with treason
when Czechoslovakia became communist in 1948 under the Russians and some were
imprisoned until 1955!) Autographs galore were provided by the visiting
“celebrities”!
After the prizes were
presented for the local competitions, we had just enough time for a stop at the
“pub” before heading down the street for a concert at the local church. (Dad
opted for a nap.) The concert performed by high school kids from a town ~ 25 km
away was outstanding, and the acoustics amazing. We returned to the
hotel to wake Dad, had cocktails in the bar – then went to the hotel restaurant
for dinner – more delicious meats and (cold) vegetables. When no one else
appeared, we called Jan to discover that the rest of the group had gone to the
museum – So off we went for another tour – more signings – and lots of
fascinating stories. We learned that the Germans did not have a “tour of
duty”, but were expected to serve until the war was over. Helmut flew over 50
missions and was shot down many times. When asked what he thought about the
outcome, he claimed that they knew from the outset that they didn’t have a
chance to win the war….
It was an exhausting,
but incredibly special day. We all had a chance to meet some very special and
dedicated people, and Dad had a chance to bond with his former “enemies” and
bring some closure to the loss of so many of his friends and fellow airmen at
this place (11 planes x 9 crew = 99 + l radioman = 100) – explaining the pain
when he and the remainder of his crew (minus one severely injured gunner)
finally made it back to an empty barracks in England over a week later… (I’ve
left space here for Dad to record his thoughts… but to date he’s reluctant to
put a pen to my journal…)
(9-15) We were able to
“sleep in” at last, and met for breakfast at 8:30 – typical German fare (fruit,
buns, bread, sliced meats & cheeses, cereal, yogurt & coffee). Then came our
next dilemma – paying the hotel bill! The guy behind the counter spoke only
Czech and German (same for the barmaids and waiters!) and we discovered they did
not take credit cards! We had less than $20. in Czech currency – but finally,
with my “survival Deutsch” and eventually some help from Jan, we got him to
accept my Euro traveler’s cheques. The spartan rooms cost just $40.40 a night
and dinner for 5 the night before was $38.00!