JeanneRickey.com

Apr. 23, 1944 – from my barracks
My darling Jeanne,
I was going to wait until I heard from you before I wrote a regular letter, but have had my mind
changed, so to speak. I consider myself even more lucky to be able to write you today than usual, and I’m
going to tell you as much as possible, why:
Yesterday, we had a tough one. It was a very important target and you never sow so many planes
in your life.
I was flying #3 in Purple Heart corner, and we really caught hell. The flak was heavy and
accurate. Number 4 ship, right on our tail, by about five feet must have got one pretty square ‘cause he
went down fast. He peeled off like he was aborting (going home), made a 90 degree turn and headed
straight down. I could follow him about 5,000 feet until he went out of sight under our wing. Denny, in
the waist, saw him burst into flames and a wing flew off a little lower. We didn’t see any chutes. The
four officers lived in my barracks here. I saw six chutes come out of the only other bomber I saw go
down.
Our tail was peppered full of holes from the burst that got Mac, but some how missed Andy,
thank goodness.
Another burst right below us under Number 1 engine. It caught my eye as it burst and I saw a
hole the size of my fist in the engine cowling of #2. Believe it or not, I saw that hole before it hit my
window, and it doesn’t take long for a piece of flak to travel 20 feet. Luckily, our ship had just had
bullet-proof glass put in. It really isn’t bullet-proof, but does a good job for flak. Anyway, it stopped this
particular piece or I wouldn’t be writing you.
Then four F.W. 190’s came at us. We mistook them for P-47’s, as they paint them the same and
they resemble each other very much, so they got in a little closer than they should.
They dove down, out of range of our guns, then cut their motors and pulled up under us with all
guns blazing until it stalled them out at about 300 yards. Then, because their bellies are heavily armored,
they rolled over on their backs and dove off.
I saw Shorty’s ammo from the ball pouring into the one that picked on us and although he
couldn’t claim it for himself, he was solely responsible for it, as he enabled the P-47 that finished the job
to do so. It just blew up in mid-air after which all I saw was half a wing.
All this happened on the bombing run, which took a little over two minutes, and at the same time,
I was flying a tight formation, so you can see you really have to keep your eyes and ears open. Besides, if
anyone near you goes down, you have to get out of his way quickly or you’ll go, too.
I almost forgot to tell you – that F.W. I told you about got us with his 20mm. It ripped a hole in
the fuselage about two feet long, inches behind the ball turret, went through the ship between Denny and
LaMotte in the waist, a space at the most of about two feet and out through the tail again. ( I guess we all
have people praying for us at home.) We counted heads four times on that one, and we’re still all
together.
We were very lucky all the way as even the engine that was hit kept running and when we got
down, we found a dozen more holes and that another piece of flak all but cut the engine mounting on #4
off. It was imbedded halfway in and I have it now for a souvenir. Clem, in the excitement, pulled his O2
hose loose and passed out from lack of oxygen as we were well over 20,000 feet. I don’t know how long
he was without it before Fyda saw him, but it took fifteen minutes of pure O2 to bring him out of it.
We were over enemy territory for 5 ½ hours under pretty constant fighter attack and flak, and
about a ½ hour from the Channel, something stray knocked about a dozen of my instruments out and we
had to sweat out gas and engines the rest of the way home.
We were out over ten hours altogether, out of which I flew about eight hours of formation and
five hours real close. Didn’t get to bed until 12:20 a.m. and was awakened for another at 2:30 a.m.
About today’s, all I’ll say is that we’re still OK, but I don’t see how you live through them all, even if you
don’t get hit.
Enough of that, I guess you can see where I might be a little tired, and yet I couldn’t have slept
until I wrote you this letter. I feel better now, and I’ll sleep as long as they’ll let me, which from latest
reports will be 2:45.
Oh, well, there’s a war to be won, and I’ve got a job to do, and all that crap. I only hope that
what I’m doing will be more lasting than the last time, saving Rick from going through the same thing. I
doubt it very much.
How is the little guy, anyway? Give him a kiss for me. Good-night, Darling, I love you with all
that’s left of my heart, be a good girl, Sweetheart, and pray for us. I wish I could go to sleep in your arms
and I hope won’t be long ‘til I do. In the meantime, I’ll settle for a letter – PLEASE. Your adoring
husband, Frederick.
P.S. I don’t think I’ve given away any information of value to the enemy, but will be surprised if
you get this complete. Incidentally, have been over seven times, but got credit for only four. Twice a
spare, and once forced back. I love you – Frederick XXXX