After the death of Bobby Richards, Lt. John Godfrey’s long-time Army buddy, on one of the 4th Fighter Group’s first Mustang missions, Godfrey grieved a while and then adjusted to the loss of his friend and got back to business. Godfrey’s job as wingman to Capt. Don Gentile, who would become the group’s highest scoring ace with a final total of twenty-three aerial victories, was to cover and protect his leader when Gentile went into aerial combat. In practice, however, it was more of a team effort, with the pair helping each other to accrue their high scores against the Luftwaffe.
In early March 1944, the 4th flew an escort mission to Berlin with their superb air leader and group commander, Col. Don Blakeslee, at the front of their formation.
United Press—London—March 8 American warplanes, 1,500 to 2,000 strong, made the greatest fire raid in history on Berlin today . . . Hundreds of Fortresses and Liberators, shielded by more hundreds of fighter planes, smashed through Hitler’s most powerful defenses to lash Berlin . . . Desperate German Air Force fighters struggled in vain to defend the blow . . .
The American daylight precision bombing campaign against targets in German-occupied Europe began in the fall of 1942, complimenting the night bombing attacks of the British Royal Air Force. By the early spring of 1944, several USAAF heavy bomb groups were in place and operating their B-17s and B-24s from bases in the English Midlands and East Anglia. These American bases in the midst of the English countryside had names like Seething, Molesworth, Podington, Bassingbourn, Sudbury, Bungay, Deenethorpe, Kimbolton, Thorpe Abbotts, and Eye. They were named after villages they adjoined. The missions of their groups were set by the U.S. Eighth Air Force planners at Wycombe Abbey, a former girl’s school in High Wycombe, Buckinghamshire, and the requirements for the raids came to the various bomb group stations via teleprinter the previous day. Preparation for the missions were implemented—with bombs, fuel and ammunition loaded, routes and timings set, crews briefed, etc, and then the operation was flown with the take-off usually in the pre-dawn hours. Assembly of these large aircraft formations was time-consuming but eventually the great bomber stream turned eastward for the flight into Europe.
The bombers bristled with machine guns and had been designed to defend themselves all the way to and from their targets, but that had not proved as effective as the planners had expected. The bombing campaign continued into 1944, when it was clear to the officers running the Eighth that the bomber crews could not adequately protect themselves against the German Air Force.
American losses in the bomber force were plainly unsustainable and something had to be changed in the system or the entire U.S. bombing effort would have to be suspended. It was at this point that the P-51 Mustang escort fighter began arriving at American fighter bases in England, in considerable numbers. It was hoped that the new Mustangs would be able to shepherd the bombers all the way to the deepest Continental targets and back in relative safety and with minimal losses to both bombers and fighters.
As the first box formation of the bombers approached the suburbs of the German capital, they were met by more than twenty ME-109 fighters. Gentile and Godfrey were part of the fighter unit at the front of the bomber stream that day and were immediately confronted by five of the enemy planes.
Johnny Godfrey was and always had been rebellious, aggressive, and indifferent to authority, but he had come to like and respect Gentile, who was one of the few pilots in the group that he admired and would follow—one of the few, in fact, to whom he would listen. They had welded themselves into an effective team and one of history’s greatest small fighting units.
Winston Churchill is said to have referred to them as: “The Damon and Pythias of the Air Force.” Their history together included Godfrey’s first combat mission, and the first time he had fired his guns in anger. It was because of his profound respect for Don Gentile’s flying and fighting skills, and his impressive achievements in the air to that point, that John Godfrey acknowledged his wing leader as “the maestro” and was happy to fly as his number two. John Godfrey was a superb marksman and had the eyesight of an eagle.
Carefully, the pair began maneuvring with two of the 109s through a series of turns, sparring with them to get a sense of their capabilities. Godfrey was the first to get into firing position on the tail his Messerschmitt. : “Okay, I’ll cover you,” Gentile called to him on the radio telephone. Firing a few short bursts, Godfrey heard from his leader again: “Give ’em more . . .more!” He fired again and the 109 rolled onto its back. The German pilot bailed out.
Even for the experienced Gentile, the severity and violence of the turns they were engaged in was something new. These German pilots were clearly above average in their combat flying skills. Gentile managed to close to within 75 yards of a 109 and destroyed it with a few well-placed bursts. “Give me cover, Johnny, while I go after that 109 at two o’clock to us.” “I’m with you” Godfrey answered. With the turns becoming more extreme, the pair were using their flaps now. Reaching 100 yards from the tail of the 109, Gentile fired and the German’s cockpit instantly filled with smoke. The enemy pilot bailed out.
By now more than fifty German fighters were circling and making bold passes through the bomber stream. The gunners in the bombers were doing their best to defend their aircraft, but they clearly needed all the possible assistance from their “Little Friends” in the P-51s. Dozens of bright green flares streaked up from the B-17s and B-24s, signalling to the Mustang pilots that their big friends needed help desparately.
“All right, Johnny, there’re two flying abreast at one o’clock. See ’em?” asked Gentile. “Yep,” Godfrey replied. Gentile: Okay, you take the one on the right and I’ll take the one on the left.” Throttles to the firewall, both pilots advanced on their quarries. Taking no evasive action, the two 109s suddenly rolled away from each other, both aflame from the bullets of the two Mustangs. Between them, Godfrey and Gentile had now downed five Messerschmitts.
They climbed back to 22,000 feet to rejoin the bombers. Godfrey was the first to spot the next enemy aircraft. “Break, break starboard! One coming in at four o’clock to you.” Together they broke to the right, passing the German head-on. “All right, Johnny. When he comes back around on the next turn, you break right and I’ll break left.” The apparently fearless 109 pilot came around again to take on the two Mustangs head-on. Gentile broke hard left; Godfrey right. They pulled into sharp, climbing turns to roar back down onto the German’s tail. The 109 entered a steep dive aiming for the cloud layer below. They chased the German down for four miles through cloud and clear air, firing when they came close enough. All three of the planes pulled out at just under 500 feet, the Messerschmitt was trailing smoke. “You take him, Don. I’m out of ammo.”
Hugging the treetops, the German pilot struggled to evade Gentile’s Mustang, but he no longer had the speed to compete. Within range, the American fired again, striking the German’s belly tank. The enemy pilot managed to climb a thousand feet before jettisoning his canopy and bailing out.
Godfrey then spotted a lone B-17 bomber out from their nine o’clock position, a straggler, evidently damaged and trying to make its way back to England with only occasional clouds for protection. Gentile and Godfrey were careful to refer to the B-17 only as “it”, as they assumed that German ground stations would be listening in on AAF radio frequencies and, if they knew about the wounded bomber, would dispatch their own fighters to finish it off.
The buttocks of both Gentile and Godfrey ached and they longed to race back to the relative comfort of Debden. Knowing that the lives of the ten American aircrew in the limping B-17 depended on their help, however, the two fighter pilots drifted over toward the starboard wing of the hapless bomber. What protection they could offer was marginal as Godfrey’s ammunition was entirely spent and Gentile’s was nearly exhausted. They would have to slow way down and weave a lot to stay with the much slower bomber, which would add substantially to their return time, and all they could really do in the way of protection was to bluff any enemy fighters that might show up. Gentile waggled his wings to let the B-17 crew know that he and Godfrey would stick with them back to England.
Meanwhile, there was no shortage of action among the other pilots of the 4th. Lt. Allen Bunte of Eustis, Florida, a colourful character, lean and mean-looking, with the mustache of an old west outlaw, and an ambition to be an actor, was chasing five 109s down towards the ground and began firing at them when still 1,000 yards from the nearest one. He advanced to within 200 yards and his bullets found their mark. Just before Bunte lost sight of the enemy aircraft, it spun out and apparently crashed. Within minutes and while still flying at low altitude the American came upon a small German training plane breezing slowly over the wooded countryside. Determined not to allow the student to graduate, he fired on the light aircraft, and missed. Closing too rapidly on his intended victim, Bunte hopped over the German at the last second and turned back to witness the trainer settling into the canopy of trees they had been skimming.
A young pilot, a native of Altoona, Pennsylvania, Lt. Robert Tussey, was aloft on his second combat mission, flying near Magdeburg, Germany. The planes of his squadron had been widely scattered in the intensive air fighting and by chance Tussey happened to see a lone JU-88 heavy fighter/bomber flying ahead and moving in the same general direction. Inexperienced but careful, the P-51 pilot waited to be sure his identification of the plane was correct before closing in on it. He misjudged his approach slightly, overshooting somewhat. He throttled back until he was once again well positioned on the German’s tail, and began shooting. Then he was being shot at as the tail gunner of the enemy craft let fly with a retaliatory stream of bullets that drifted over the American’s wing.
An airfield came into view ahead of the two adversaries and the German pilot dived towards it, evidently thinking that gunners on the field would probably shoot the Mustang off his tail. The JU-88 twisted out of Tussey’s gunsight image but was soon reacquired by him and this time when he fired, he watched as a single parachute appeared from the 88, which crashed seconds later taking the dead tail gunner in with it.
They brought the crippled bomber back as far as the English coast and Gentile contacted it: “Mustang to Fort. We’ll be leaving you now. Good luck.” The bomber pilot answered: “Thank you, very, very much, Little Friend.” Arriving in the Debden area the two Mustangs broke and buzzed their squadron dispersal. According to Grover C. Hall, Jr., 4th Fighter Group public relations officer, “You could tell the veteran pilots from the newer ones by their conduct in the circuit. The tyros made long approaches to the landing strips, while the veteran hot-rocks turned into the strip so short you’d swear the left wing was going to brush the ground.”
Another March mission to Berlin for the 4th Fighter Group was led by Lt Col. James Clark. It was the third trip that Captain Nicholas ‘Cowboy’ Megura, of Ansonia, Connecticut, had made with the group to the Big B. Cowboy had a reputation as one of the 4th’s most violent pilots in combat. He was there to fight Germans and made sure everyone in the group knew it. He was perceived as boisterous and somewhat disorderly, but he had downed two enemy planes on each of his two previous excursions to Berlin, as well as accounting for several planes destroyed on the ground and a few trains for good measure, and he was looking forward to adding to his score this day.
Clark now had the group climbing fast to come to the aid of a bomber formation that had just called for help. When the Mustangs arrived at the bombers, they were immediately bounced by five ME-109 fighters from out of the sun. In seconds Clark and Megura each destroyed a 109 and Cowboy was shot at by a third German, but shook him off. The American then noticed several enemy fighters attacking a straggling bomber roughly a mile away. He caught up with one of the attackers and was elated to see his rounds scoring on the engine of the target. Smoke began pouring from the German plane, whose pilot threw open his canopy, pulled back on the stick and stood up as if to bail out. But the German hesitated, probably wondering if he might still be able to land his burning fighter . . . if the American pilot might now break off the chase . . . or if his enemy might machine gun him in his parachute. Cowboy helped the German make up his mind by firing another short burst in his direction. The enemy pilot stepped out of cockpit and tumbled a few hundred feet before his parachute streamed open, jerking him upright.
The action had brought Cowboy quite low near an airfield outside of Berlin. Several ME-109s were circling in the landing pattern and Megura started following one of the German fighters, which didn’t seem aware of his presence. Somehow none of the German pilots had noticed the enemy fighter over their airfield, so Cowboy lined up on one plane that had its flaps and landing gear down. Before he could shoot, however, two enemy fighters came racing across the field towards him, having suddenly recognized the Mustang profile. Megura firewalled the P-51 but had trouble outrunning the German pair. He was finally able to outdistance them and headed back west at low level over Berlin, shooting up a train on his way.
As he crossed a low mountain range west of the city, he encountered six more enemy aircraft, evading them by weaving through some valleys. On course for Debden, he then came upon a Junkers JU-88 cruising at 10,000 feet. Cowboy chased it down to the roof-tops of the industrial area he was crossing. Only one of his guns was still working when he opened fire on the German. His last rounds were tracers and with them gone he pulled alongside the damaged plane. All he could do then was thumb his nose at the German pilot and yell something rude. Thirty days later, Megura was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross for his actions on that trip to Berlin.