First To Fall

Project 9699 in the News

2011-12-13T12:27:00.000-08:00

The current issue of British Ministry of Defence Police magazine "Talk Through" has a wonderful centerfold article by Chief Inspector Ross Stewart about Project 9699, the search for 671st Bomb Sq. pilot William Edward Cramsie and crew lost in Bradwell Bay, England on 10 April 1944. Click on the link below to download a pdf file of the issue and then scroll to pages 17 through 19.

http://tiny.cc/dx7jk

Carving Up the Promise

2011-11-25T15:41:00.000-08:00

Those who are offended by political statements should stop reading here and go to a more comfortable place in cyberspace. What I am going to discuss is political and may offend some readers.

As a Life Member of the Military Officers Association of America, I keep up to date on military issues through the organization's monthly magazine and its website. In the December 2011 issue of Military Officer, one will find an article titled "Et Tu, SASC? This headline caught my attention immediately, being that I have long been a student of Roman history. It is a play on the last words of Julius Caesar as he was assassinated at the Roman Senate on the Ides of March, 44 BC, "Et tu Brute" or "you too Brutus?". It was a statement that would become immortal as a synonym for betrayal as Brutus thrust his dagger into the withering body of Caesar. Why would the MOAA head their discussion of military health issues with such a graphic and volatile reference? Perhaps because the situation demanded it.

The managers of our trust, the government of the United States of America, have failed pitifully and have squandered the tremendous gift that "the greatest generation" gave to us — a nation virtually independent of foreign influence. Today, we are becoming mere pawns on the world stage being sucked dry of our vastly accumulated wealth through a sea of errant thinking and mismanagement. We have become a reactive nation rather than a noble leader in virtually all areas other than military. We still possess the most effective fighting force the world has ever seen—what a shame that our diplomatic and economic skills are not up to that level. The former Captains of Industry are seen as plunderers in the New World Order and it's a blessing to them that they all died long ago. Most of their profit making ventures have been driven offshore by a national mentality where consumption trumps production, legitimate profit is assailed as social corruption and incentives to work are replaced by incentives not to work. Those of us still dealing in Horatio Alger fashion with the idiocy of life simply get to stand by and watch our legacy vanish through self indulgence in the name of egalitarianism.

The socialistic largesse of government has buried us so far in debt that the wolves are at the door baying for lunch, and that is what the MOAA article is all about. It is a synopsis of Washington infighting over the military budget and nothing is so sacred these days as to escape being offered as a sacrificial cow to the gods of finance. One of the most sacred promises that the U.S. Government made to all career military personnel was a retirement system that promised health care for life. There were no caveates or warnings that this was a tentative offer, it was an outright promise that the sort of health care that we received while on active duty would be provided for us in our retirement years. Now, the Senate Armed Services Committee is playing the part of Brutus, standing in the Senate hall with a dagger about to draw blood from an old friend and indeed its mentor. The committee is recommending that the military retirement system should be more like civilian retirement plans—in particular concerning healthcare. Of course everyone knows what great shape the civilian retirement health care plans are in.

That train wreck notwithstanding, it might seem that this would be an improvement over the current Tri-Care system. Tri-Care is so pathetic in its ratio of approved payments versus billed services that a frightening number of health care providers will not accept Tri-Care patients. For those living in rural America, the nearest provider that accepts Tri-Care may be hours away from where one lives and choice is a pipe dream. One is lucky to have coverage at all. I actually wrote to one of my Senators about this problem and it was forwarded to the Pentagon's chief of health care services. Springfield, Missouri is the nearest large city to our home (90 miles) and there are three major hospitals there. All three have rejected Tri-Care coverage. The letter I received in reply from the Pentagon was a curt admonition to stop complaining. No great surprise I suppose.

Unfortunately, the net result of the Senate committee recommendation would be added cost to the military member and a further erosion of the promise. It gets even worse when a retired military member turns 65. Part of my military retirement package was medical care for life for myself and for my spouse during my lifetime. The provider was "Tri-Care". Over time, the government added a provision that when a retiree turns 65, the primary provider shifts from Tri-Care to Medicare. That didn't seem so bad, since the coverage was similar, but they also started deducting nearly $100 per month from my Social Security check to pay for the Medicare premium. So much for the free medical promise. Now, they are raising the per month fee over the next couple years to some uncertain level (but certainly more). While the actual premium that will be paid in 2014 is a matter of debate, and will undoubtedly be less than the $247 claimed by ultra-conservatives, there is little doubt that I will be paying more per year for my "free" medical coverage and we will soon have to pay double that per year to retain coverage on my spouse who currently is free under my retirement plan. And, we have no choice in the matter -- the switch from Tri-Care to Medicare is mandatory. That, in my estimation, is a broken promise. This may seem like sour grapes, but all the years that I served in the military they factored in my retirement health care benefit as a part of my total compensation and paid me less because of it. In other words, they treated it like cash in my pocket. Now they are stealing the cash that I worked for and banked as retirement compensation.

As military retirees were nostalgically carving Turkey this week in Thanksgiving, our elected officials were busy carving up the promises made decades ago. In that light, how can any of us really have faith in the promises made today?

God Bless John Culberson

2011-10-30T14:17:00.000-07:00

John Culberson

An editorial in the Washington Post of October 28 caught my eye with the headline: "Veterans allowed to rest in peace." At first, I thought it was a story about repatriation of recently recovered remains of veterans lost during combat. There are thousands of these cases still being worked by the Joint Prisoners of War, Missing in Action Accounting Command (JPAC), including the case on William Edward Cramsie. But, no, this was about something even more head-turning. It really is a little mind numbing and heart warming at the same time.

A couple months back, I received an email forwarded from a friend. It was a report about the Obama Administration forbidding prayer and other religious references at VA Cemetery services. Not only that, there were reports of veteran groups like VFW and American Legion getting hassled by a VA Cemetery manager and threatened with expulsion for using a reference to God in what they said during presentations to a widow. I thought this so bizarre that I immediately put it in the category of skinhead propaganda and hit the delete button. When I realized that this Post editorial was about that very topic, I was shocked back to reality. I know that the Post is sometimes a bit biased, though in my personal view with some justification, but I could not believe that they would have bought into something like this without confirmation.

As I read on, it became obvious that the story was true. Now, I'm not saying that I believe everything that I read in the media, I'm just a tad less gullible than that. What sealed the veracity for me was the report of John Culberson's involvement. I happen to know and trust Mr. Culberson through my work with a non-profit advocacy group. Representative Culberson (TX-7) has helped us on many occasions and is one of an honored few who have been recognized with our highest "Friend" award. That aside, I read with considerable interest how he jousted with the Administration to change VA policy back to the sane traditional path that it had followed for as far back as my memory reaches, and that's getting to be a far reach. I won't go into the details because the Post article is linked above and all can read it for themselves. However, I did want to say here that its refreshing when a legislator has the will to engage and the audacity to demand redress of government excess. This was not about religion it was about liberty. We have become far too PC in America and are throwing out the baby with the bath water. I wish we had more leaders who respect and tolerate personal rights and freedoms and less who insist on defining and enforcing a uniform code of existence.

God Bless John Culberson!

In Memory - an Archive

2011-05-30T12:13:00.000-07:00

Memorial Day seems an appropriate time to report the growth of an activity that honors the service of those who served and those who died serving during WWII. Two years ago, at the 416th Bomb Group reunion in Branson, Missouri, a topic arose that had been on the minds of many veterans and their kin in recent years. The tangible links that many of us who served keep squirreled away in a chest (personnel records, photos, military orders and the like) tend to disappear at the end of our tenure here. To those who hold these sorts of items dear, it is a tragedy. We find it hard to imagine that a younger generation might not find some or all of these remembrances important enough to preserve. Yet, every day, somewhere in America, history is destroyed in a burn barrel along with the kitchen trash. As a nation, we go to great lengths to preserve the smallest of objects from antiquity, but seem oblivious to the monumental importance of objects nearer to us in time.

Shortly after that 2009 reunion, I was copied on an email from a veteran's spouse that went out to several of the organizers of the very informal 416th Bomb Group Association. The message reinforced what had been discussed earlier. This spouse had numerous records and photos that belonged to her husband, a member of the 416th Headquarters staff from the earliest days to the end of the war. There apparently was marginal interest in this material among the surviving family members and it needed to be cleared to make space in a downsizing operation. After a round of email exchanges, I rather reluctantly volunteered to serve as a repository for this information until a suitable permanent home could be identified. It was a selection pool of one. Thus was born the 416th Bomb Group Archive and the loosely defined title "Archivist".

Since that day, the amount of information about the 416th Bomb Group that has come to light has been absolutely staggering. The discovery and sharing of the personal photo collection of Capt. Francis J. Cachat, the 416th photographer, has added well over 900 hitherto unknown photographs of 416th personnel and equipment. A windfall of data was added to the Archive through the thoughtfulness of an Air Force Historical Research Agency employee who made digital copies of wartime 416th records available. Also enriching the Archive were donations of material from several veterans and/or their families. This latter group shed considerable light on the history of squadron and group reunions dating back to 1946.

In addition to the preservation of primary sources, the Archive includes significant research tools. Among the most important of these is the 416th.com website, which has been very greatly expanded and is growing almost daily due to the dedicated effort of Rick Prucha, the son of a 416th pilot. Relational databases have also been created to record details of unit personnel (currently recording 2,460 officers and enlisted members) and 310 unit aircraft (181 A-20s and 129 A-26s to date). Both of these databases continue to grow as additional records or photos are analyzed and new verifiable information becomes available.

New Home of the 416th Bomb Group Archive

The primary purpose of any archive is to safely store material for research. Obviously, that means a place to store and a place to work. An opportunity recently presented itself for my wife Doris and I to purchase what was formerly the Gainesville, Missouri City Hall. It's an historic WPA building built in 1935 as a Community Center just off the town square. Gainesville is nestled in the heart of the Missouri Ozarks, about 50 miles east of Branson, MO. Our intention is to restore the building to something approximating its original state. A dedicated area within this building will house the 416th Archive. Also within the building will be a library and educational center for the study of historical objects from an earlier era.

Eventually, the Archive will need a permanent home. With limited and shrinking budgets (and staff), the academic repositories that once would have been likely candidates are overwhelmed by the amount of material that has emerged as WWII veterans are leaving us at an accelerating pace. By holding, organizing and preserving this information about the 416th, one small but important unit in the great war effort of almost 70 years ago, we can improve the viability of this archive complementing that of a more enduring institution in years to come.

416th veterans, family, or friends with items to donate or copies to share may telephone 417-679-2142 or write to Wayne G. Sayles, 416th Bomb Group Archive, P.O. Box 911, Gainesville, MO 65655

Wethersfield Revisited

2011-05-28T21:50:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I wrote about our trip to Ballymoney, the ancestral home of Bill Cramsie. During this ten-day trip to Ireland, we took a couple days to fly over to Wethersfield, Essex, where Bill had been stationed at the time of his death. I had been to Wethersfield in March of 2010 and wrote about that visit here. Thanks to the perceptive intuition of Sally Stewart, one of the employees that I met in the site Administration building, I was able also to meet her husband Ross who is a Chief Inspector in the Ministry of Defense Police (MDP) at this base. Ross has been studying the history and evolution of the base for many years. He subsequently purchased a copy of First to Fall on Amazon.com and we became well acquainted through a regular flow of emails.

The reason for the visit this year was to meet with Ross and discuss progress on a project that he is shepherding. During my visit last year, I left a copy of First to Fall with the personal secretary to the facility commander. The book caught the attention of MDP senior management and before long Ross was tasked to conduct a feasibility study into the possibility of finding and, if possible, recovering 43-9699 and its crew. One of the first tasks under this order was to brief the US Air Force contingent in Britain, as well as teleconferenced individuals at the Pentagon. This was done with aplomb and before long the Department of Defense showed active interest in the project that Ross had dubbed "9699". Meanwhile, Ross selected a small team of interested staff to gather and evaluate data related to the mission of April 10, 1944. I was fortunate to meet two additional team members during this visit.

During the past five months, I've been in close touch with the "9699" team at Wethersfield and have assisted whenever possible by searching for and studying available mission records and related facts that may shed light on the precise location where Bill Cramsie's plane went down. It has been an exciting time and I was delighted by the opportunity to see Ross again and to expand my personal knowledge of the base. As guests of Ross and Sally Stewart, Doris and I were allowed to stay in former military quarters on the base. From our window, we could see the bronze 416th Bomb Group plaque that Frank Basford had installed adjacent to the chapel many years ago.

The MDP at Wethersfield made Doris and I feel like very special guests and the personal attention paid to us by the Stewart family was absolutely extraordinary. Through their kind hospitality, we were able to meet their daughter Sarah, just days after presenting Ross and Sally with their first grandchild. We also were able to spend a little time with Richard and Susan Clubley of Church Hill House at Wethersfield, friends with whom I stayed during the 2010 visit.

Doris Sayles, Ross Stewart, Wayne Sayles, Sally Stewart

With the help of Ross, who is intimately familiar with the buildings, roads, and structures on the base, I became much better acquainted with the nature of this facility during WWII. We visited the area where the 671st Bomb Squadron was quartered and marveled at the way nature has reclaimed that piece of land in the past 67 years. All that remains of the once booming compound are a series of air raid shelters, some concrete foundations for Nissen Huts and the remnants of communal toilets/showers. The interconnecting concrete sidewalks also remain.

Air Raid Shelter in the 671st Bomb Sq. quarters area remains intact

In the 668th squadron quarters area, there are still a few Nissen Huts standing. There are also several buildings near the flight line that were in use during the 416th tenure at Wethersfield.

Surviving Nissen Hut in the 668th Bomb Sq. living area

The trip to Wethersfield was a great success and I'm pleased to report that "Project 9699" is very much alive and well, with a strong commitment on both sides of the Atlantic.

A Visit to Ballymoney

2011-05-27T17:18:00.000-07:00

On May 6, 2011 my wife Doris and I visited Ballymoney, Country Antrim, Ireland the ancestral home of William Edward Cramsie. Ballymoney, in the Irish tongue, means city by the marsh. It's a small and quaint but bustling little village in the north of Ireland about a one hour train ride northwest from Belfast. Ballymoney rests within one of the famous Glens of Antrim. A Glen, we learned, is a long valley that leads all the way to the sea. The scenery and atmosphere are remarkable.

Our primary purpose in this visit was to determine if any relatives of Bill Cramsie might be interred at this place where his grandfather was born. The first and most important clue was that the family was Irish Catholic, which is not the dominant persuasion in Ulster now and was not during the lifetime of Bill's grandfather and great grandfather. In fact, there was at that time a Protestant branch of the Cramsie family living in Ballymoney as well. There is, however, in this place a Roman Catholic Church with deep roots. It is the church of Our Lady and St. Patrick. Adjacent to the church is a cemetery divided into three parts, mostly by chronology. Within the oldest of these sections we located the graves of what we feel must be at least three members of Bill Cramsie's family.

When we arrived at the train station in Ballymoney, we asked if there was a civic information center. It turns out that there is and it is also the home of a local museum, which we enjoyed very much. The local historical society shares space in this building and the keeper kindly unlocked the cabinets with genealogical information. We perused the many documents there with great interest.

Locating the Roman Catholic Church was relatively easy and it took only minutes for us to review all of the marked graves in the old section. We located one grave belonging to a Patrick Cramsie who died in 1832 at age 57. This same stone mentions an Edward Cramsie who died in 1886 at the age of 60 years. This Edward would have been from the same generation as William Cramsie the grandfather of Bill.

Immediately adjacent to that grave was one of a John Cramsie who died in 1884 at the age of 84 years. The headstone also mentions his son Edward (different from above) who was born in 1860. It seems likely that this John Cramsie was perhaps an uncle to the William Cramsie who migrated to the gold fields of California in the 1850s

Yet a third stone mentions another member of the Cramsie family named John, who was apparently married to an Isabella McNeill. The names Patrick, Edward and John are very common within Bill Cramsie's family and coupled with the Roman Catholic connection, there would seem to be little doubt that these are the graves of relatives.

The West Point ring of Bill Cramsie made this journey with us and I couldn't resist the impulse to introduce Bill to these early Ballymoney relatives. The ring has always accompanied me on all of the related excursions from 416th Bomb Group reunions to New York, to West Point to Wethersfield and now to Ireland and many other places along the way.

The church of Our Lady and St. Patrick is currently undergoing extensive renovation and is surrounded by scaffolding. It is a beautiful church in an idyllic rural setting—a fitting resting place and a direct link to the past. In the foreground here are the first two headstones mentioned above.

This phase of our trip was all that it could possibly have been. But that is not all of the story. We flew from Ireland to the RAF Wethersfield base (now MOD Police) for a brief visit and I will share some aspects of that interesting visit soon.

Bill Cramsie Day

2011-04-10T12:08:00.000-07:00

April 10, 1944 was perhaps not exceptional in the wider course of human events, but it was a day of huge loss and great tragedy for the 416th Bomb Group. What should have been a routine mission to wipe out a V-1 Buzz Bomb site in northern France turned into a nightmare for the 36 ships and crews that participated. Two crews were lost and never recovered. Their names are engraved on the Wall of the Missing at Madingley Cemetery (the American Battlefield Monuments Commission cemetery near Cambridge, England).

1/Lt William E. Cramsie
S/Sgt Charles R. Henshaw
S/Sgt Jack Steward

1/Lt Arthur A. Raines
S/Sgt Glenn J. Bender
S/Sgt Jack O. Nielson

Virtually every A-20 Havoc participating in that mission received battle damage due to the intense flak encountered in three deadly passes over the target at Bois des Huit Rues.

Bill Cramsie is of course the subject of this blog and of the biography First to Fall. I have no doubt in my mind that he would object to being singled out for distinction today. Every comment that I have ever read or heard about Bill reveals a person of genuine humility and loyalty. He was also a person of intense dedication with a strong sense of duty.

Recently, I received a photograph from Francis J. Cachat that I'm pleased to share here. Fran was the 416th Bomb Group photographer at RAF Wethersfield during the time that Bill was there. Easter fell on the 9th of April in 1944 and Fran photographed Easter Mass at the Catholic Chapel on base. Like many of the buildings of that period, the chapel was a large Nissen shelter, known commonly to Americans as a "Quonset Hut". In Fran's photo, Bill Cramsie kneels before the altar receiving communion from Chaplain Penticoff. It seems a fitting prelude for this devout Irish Catholic's impending trials only a day later.

Today, it is fitting that we remember the life and devotion of William Edward Cramsie and those fellow members of the 416th that fell victim to the guns of Bois des Huit Rues. It is a very small act on our part to recognize the sacrifice that they and their families made in the cause of a free world.

Francis DeMand 89th Birthday Remembered

2011-03-21T07:00:00.000-07:00

March 19, 2011 marked the 89th birthday of Lt. Francis DeMand, 671st Bomb Sq. pilot. The Kansas born aviator was killed in action on 29 Sep 44 and is buried at the American Battlefield Monuments Commission cemetery in Margraten, Netherlands. Local resident Ron Wintjens has formally adopted the grave of DeMand and honors his memory on special occasions with a personal visit and placement of flowers on the airman's grave.

Spiritual Heirs

2011-01-06T21:21:00.000-08:00

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds...and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of...wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up, the long, delirious burning blue
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, nor even eagle flew.
And while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space...
...put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

John Gillespie Magee, Jr. 1922-1941

Norma R. Downing 1922-2010

On New Year's Eve of 2010, Norma Raley Downing left this temporal world and returned to the eternal abode from whence she came. The words above were written by a young pilot, describing an ethereal experience in "High Flight", but they could just as well be describing the spirit of Norma Downing who experienced more in her lifetime than most of us could ever imagine.

Norma Raley met Wayne Downing in southern England during World War II. She was a nurse with the 298th General Hospital, he was an A-20 Attack Bomber pilot with the 2911th Bomb Squadron. Their courtship was far from ordinary. Wayne was transferred to the 416th Bomb Squadron in the early Spring of 1944, making visits complicated, but manageable with some creative maneuvering. Shortly after D-Day, Norma was transferred to France while Wayne continued to fly out of Wethersfield in Essex. They received permission from higher headquarters and were wed at Cherbourg in the Fall of 1944 after the 416th had transferred to Melun-Villaroche near Paris. As the front was pushed eastward, Norma was transferred to a hospital in Liege, Belgium treating casualties from the Battle of the Bulge and the Rhineland campaign. When Wayne's 65 mission quota had been reached, he volunteered to continue flying combat missions so that he could be nearer to Norma. How he managed to visit her in Liege is a story for another day. Where their lives took them from then to now is really a book in itself.

The story of Wayne and Norma Downing is a classic love story and an inspiration to the generations that follow them. In a recent email referring to the couple, Ron Wintjens wrote: "They were both witnesses and active players in an important part of our history. Every time a veteran passes away, we, the next generation, become the spiritual heir of their experiences and memories. Younger people should realize this."

There is a lot of truth in that profound statement.

Merry Christmas

2010-12-25T12:28:00.000-08:00

Today, we gather with family and friends in virtually every point of the compass and enjoy and enjoy the benefits of a free society. It's a time of peace and harmony that we often take for granted, but should well remember that there were times when such was not the case. Christmas day 1944 was a tragic day for the 416th Bomb Group with several planes and crews lost on the morning mission to Munstereifel, Germany and the afternoon mission to Hillsheim. Unlike the much heralded Christmas Truce of WWI, the battle raged on in Europe during those hard days when the Battle of the Bulge called for every possible resource and a full commitment.

Mission #177 - Hillsheim, Germany - 25 Dec 44

After two frustrating weeks of bad weather, the air power of the allies was finally brought to bear and helped stem the tide of a major German offensive. As we enjoy Christmas 2010, we should pause for a moment to reflect on what Christmas 1944 must have been like for the men on the ground and in the air with our armed forces at that time. Merry Christmas to all - compliments of the 416th Bomb Group.

Veteran's Day 2010

2010-11-11T11:59:00.000-08:00

Here it is 2010 and that special day for honoring our nation's military veterans is upon us. I remember that during my first five or six years of grade school we celebrated Armistice Day on November 11. Usually, some simple flag ceremony, sometimes accompanied by a middle-aged gentleman or two from the American Legion or Veterans of Foreign Wars, was conducted at 11 AM. To help make the occasion special to a fourth-grader, there was a distribution of candies and a patriotic pin to wear on our collar or sticker to place on our lunch box. We were taught that this was a celebration of the peace in 1918 that ended a horrific World War and a time to honor those American servicemen and women who had served in that war. Today, none of those middle-aged gentlemen are with us and the young school boy that was inspired by this tribute has himself left middle-age in the dust.

In 1954, Congress extended the recognition to all who had served in the military during time of war and renamed the occasion "Veteran's Day". In practice, this day has come to be celebrated in honor of all veterans, whether they served during time of war or not. In truth, one could hardly have served in the U.S. Military after December 7, 1941 and not have been in some state of war, either hot or cold. Now, we are sadly but proudly paying our respects to the dwindling number of veterans who served during World War II. Much has been written about their heroic crusade, and with just cause.

416th Bomb Group veterans at the 2010 Reunion

(left to right, seated: Carl Weinert, John Freese, Bob Kehres,
Billy Brewer, Dan Eastman.
Standing: Jack Sittarich, Wayne Downing, Ralph Conte, Roy Burns,
Roland Dullnig, Bob Basnett.)

My personal involvement with the 416th Bomb Group, through the silent but forceful urging of William Edward Cramsie, has made me all too aware of the fact that we are mortal creatures. With our passing from this existence, we become part of that great tapestry of human accomplishment and evolution. It won't be long and Cold War veterans will be taking their final salute.

As I sit here today and reminisce, I wonder what Bill Cramsie was doing 70 years ago as a plebe at West Point. November 11, 1940 fell on a Monday. The day was declared by Public Law in 1938 to be a legal holiday. Therefore, the cadets were likely on a relaxed schedule—something rather scarce for a plebe. The weather was ominous as a storm of hurricane proportions swept the Great Lakes. That afternoon, five vessels and 66 lives were lost in Lake Michigan alone during one of the worst storms in recorded history. In all, 154 deaths were blamed on the storm. The Battle of Britain had ended, at least in official releases, and the British were carrying the battle to German and Italian cities. It must have seemed fairly obvious that the United States would soon enter the war. Little did the plebes of that year know that their program of studies would be reduced to three years and they soon would be personally engaged in that war.

There has been great bi-partisan support for this veteran's tribute since its inauguration. Honoring veterans is one of the few things that all Americans seem to agree on. As Abraham Lincoln said at Gettysburg some 150 years ago, "It is only fitting and proper that we do this." At many of the Branson, Missouri entertainment events throughout the year, there are tributes to veterans. It is always impressive to see how many men and women proudly stand with their brethren to be recognized. The contributions of the American armed forces to our way of life are rarely overlooked or taken for granted, and that's as it should be.

More from Ron Wintjens on Francis De Mand Grave

2010-10-06T17:46:00.000-07:00

In an earlier post, I shared an email from Ron Wintjens of the Netherlands -- a private citizen who adopted the grave of 671st Bomb Squadron pilot Francis De Mand at Margraten cemetery, also known as Netherlands American Cemetery. In response, I asked Ron how he came to be interested particularly in Lt. De Mand. Here is his touching reply:

"I've been to the cemetery this weekend for placing some flowers on the grave, because of the 29th of September, the day Francis died. ASAP I'll take the pictures you've asked for. It's no problem for me to take these pictures. If it's possible I'll take them on a sunny day.

As to your last question, I can only say that I've been always interested in WWII, I've been several times to Normandy (with my dad) and I thought of it as my duty to adopt a grave. Also my daughter (now 11 yrs) got interested and said a few years ago she would carry on with this adoption if I couldn't take care anymore for the grave. Thus the future of our grave is secured and the tradition will live on. So we will not forget!

I knew from the Dutch employee at the cemetery, that USAF records were easy to get from the administration in the US. So I asked for an airman. In those days you could choose a grave, because the fist generation adoptants were on the threshold of extinction, so to say, and there were several adoptants who didn't have a successor or died without taking notice of this matter. Nowadays, there's a waiting list for an adoption grave.

It's beautiful every time I see the white crosses perfectly lined up. Walking up the cemetery a strange melancholic wearyness and sadness takes part of me. I can't help it. Every time I feel the same feeling. I think it is special. I go to Francis' grave and put the flowers in front of the white cross, say a few prayers and leaving the cemetary I sit down for a few minutes in the chapel with it's beautiful inscriptions on the walls. It's a pity that the rush of life nowadays, prevents me from spending more time on searching for more information, networking and maybe making contact with relatives of one of these boys.

I'm glad I came across this mail and that I took some time to mail to you (should have done this right from the start!). Feels good!

Grtz Ron Wintjens

A Family Affair

2010-09-25T17:09:00.000-07:00

The survivors of World War II who served with the 416th Bomb Group have remained in close contact over the past 65 years and still convene annually to renew their camaraderie and visit with their ever growing family. Although the number of veterans is diminishing all too quickly, the number of attendees at the Group reunions over the past five years has remained fairly constant. This is due mainly to the growth of families and their intense loyalty to the patrons whom all hold in great respect and a little awe. All of the veterans from the previous year's reunion returned this year to Branson, with the sad exception of Dick Wheeler, who passed away last December. Joining the group this year were Ralph Conte and Dan Eastman with members of their families.

The 2010 reunion of the 416th was held at Branson, Missouri from September 8 to September 12. Eleven veterans of this unit were present, with an overall attendance of 56 including travelers from California to Connecticut and one son of a 416th pilot who stopped over on the way to his new post in Hong Kong. The ages ranged from two-years-old to "almost" 95-years-old and it was hard to tell at times whether the youngsters or the old-timers were having the most fun. In addition to the traditional banquet on Saturday evening, the group enjoyed a dinner show Friday night at the Starlite Theater with Bill Medley of the Righteous Brothers performing. A then-and-now video clip of the veterans was included in the show as a special tribute to the 416th. That clip, updated slightly, is included here and is posted on YouTube at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h2sarWciUC8

In order of appearance in the video are Billy Brewer (NC), Roland Dullnig (TX), Roy Burns (MO), Carl Weinert (AZ), Jack Sittarich (ND), Bob Basnett (MO), Bob Kehres (AR), Wayne Downing (CA), Ralph Conte (MO), John Freese (IL) and Dan Eastman (UT).

Remembering

2010-05-29T13:30:00.000-07:00

This Memorial Day I'm thankful to all who gave their lives in defense of our way of life, but in particular to William Edward Cramsie who's spirit has taken me to places I could not have imagined five years ago. I wrote recently about my visit to Cambridge American Cemetery and the solemnity of that beautiful resting place. The closest I could get to Bill Cramsie was to touch his name inscribed on the Wall of the Missing. Six others of the 416th Bomb Group are still interred in that hallowed ground. Fifty former members of the 416th are either interred or memorialized on Walls of the Missing at eight different American Battle Monuments Commission cemeteries in Europe. Many of those lost during the war were temporarily interred and transferred to burial sites in the U.S. after the war. George Steed, also mentioned recently in this blog, was one of those. The native Virginian now rests near home in Arlington Cemetery.

One of the many "connections" that my encounter with Bill Cramsie produced was with the 416th Bomb Group itself. For reasons that will likely never be explained adequately, I have been drawn to this group of men as if I were a part of their experience. Of course, I was not, but their spirit touches me almost every day in some mysterious way. Just today, I received an email from a man in The Netherlands, Ron Wintjens, who cares very much about these same people and about one in particular. Ron's email came to me completely unexpected and I have no idea how or why he chose to write to me. Rather than summarize, I'll post his words here precisely as they were received:

"Dear Sir,

My name is Ron Wintjens and I'm from the Netherlands. Since several years I take care of the grave of one of the pilots of 416th bomber group: 1Lnt. Francis W. Demand. After he got killed nearby Jülich (Germany) 29th of september 1944, he is burried at the American War Cemetary at Margraten in the south of the Netherlands.

I know he had only one sister, who was married at that time with a businessman. Because of his young age (22) Francis had no wife and kids. Every special occassion I put flowers on his grave and say a short prayer, but I sometimes feel I should undertake more action. Maybe there are veterans who knew Francis or even flew with him. Maybe one of these veterans want to get in touch with me or have a simple request. Maybe one of these guys know relatives of Francis and maybe they are interested in getting in touch with me. No obligations, but maybe I can do someone a favor. I'll keep on taking care for his grave. It's an Honor and I'm glad that I've the opportunity to do something, however small, back.

Greetings Ron Wintjens"

I can't think of anything that could have touched me more on this Memorial Day than this email straight from the heart of someone who still remembers the sacrifice of one 416th member more than 65 years ago and takes the time to honor their memory. The Netherlands American Cemetery is today the resting place of more than 8,300 Americans including Lt. Francis DeMand, a pilot who flew with Bill Cramsie in the 671st Bomb Squadron.

One can only wonder how many people like Ron Wintjens still honor these 416th war heroes. I know of a few. In addition to the touching story above, a simple private memorial within a wooded area, at the site where George Steed died, is still maintained by a local French citizen. Residents near the site in Belgium where Rooney, Anderson and most of their crew died have either erected or plan to erect a small monument at that place. I'd be pleased to hear of other personal memorials to 416th members that readers here might know of.

Thanks to Missouriman4 whose touching video tribute to Arlington is linked above. The other two links are to videos hosted by ABMC.

Arlington Cemetery

2010-05-14T21:03:00.000-07:00

It was a cool clear afternoon in early May as I trekked camera and tripod in hand through the thousands of graves at Arlington Cemetery searching for two particular headstones. The first was relatively recent, that of Brigadier General William J. Meng. Then Major Meng flew 50 combat missions as Commander of the 670th Bomb Squadron of the 416th Bomb Group. He joined the group at Lake Charles, LA and was one of the few pilots who had flown the A-20 previously—having flown 250 missions (800 combat hours) in the Panama Canal Zone flying anti-submarine patrol. He led the second mission over Normandy on D-Day, earning a DFC and Purple Heart in that attack. During and after the war, he served in several assignments as air inspector or inspector general and commanded a SAC strategic reconnaissance wing. During his career he flew the A-20, A-26, B-17, B-29, B-50, RB-45, RB-47, KC-97, KC-135, B-52 and B-58 with more than 5,600 hours of flying time. He served in Korea and Vietnam as well. General Meng died on Feb 1, 2001 and is buried in Section 54, site 5213 at Arlington.

The second headstone that I sought was that of 1Lt. George Hubert Steed. Lt. Steed was flying A-26 tail number 41-39222 on the 416th Bomb Group's mission #200 to Nutterden-Crannenberg, Holland. On the return, Lt. Steed's A/C ran out of gas and crashed near Montgeron, France. Lt. Steed was killed in the crash and was buried near the crash site. In 1946 his body was exhumed and reinterred at Arlington Cemetery in Section 12, site 4630. A private memorial, maintained by a French citizen marks the crash site today. Sgt. Transhina, Steed's gunner was badly injured in the crash, but recovered and survived until 1994.

The cool breeze and wealth of large hardwoods for shade made my visit to Arlington a very relaxing and memorable event. There were several burials scheduled throughout the afternoon and a horse drawn funeral procession passed nearby during my search. I could hear the crisp yet lonely sound of a bugle playing taps off in the distance as I stood by the grave of George Steed. That always is a poignant moment. There may be other 416th members buried here, but the cemetery records are not digitized and cannot be searched by unit. All searches are manual by name and date of burial. Therefore, unless one knows of a burial in advance, there is no practical way to find burials from any particular military organization. I also was able to locate the bronze memorial plaque dedicated to the 416th, which sits along the walkway not far from the tomb of the unknown soldier. As a postscript to this visit, I learned last week while talking with Roy Burns, a veteran who has attended the past two reunions, that Roy was the armorer for Lt. Steed's aircraft.

Wethersfield

2010-05-11T17:58:00.000-07:00

" The morning of 1 February 1944 was spent on a train cutting across the heart of England to a small town in East Anglia, Sybil and Castle Hedingham. At 1515 the men detrained and boarded trucks that were waiting to take them to an RAF station one mile north of Wethersfield, Station 170."

So begins the short but eventful record of the 416th Bomb Group's presence in England as recorded in the official Group History. Bill Cramsie was on that train, just as I sat in wonderment on a train from London as it sliced through pastoral Essex headed for the same destination 66 years later. I couldn't help but feel that the fields and venerable structures passing by in a blur were untouched by time. Indeed, Bill had occasion more than once to look out this same window during brief excursions from Braintree to London and back. The mesmerizing countryside today belies the seriousness and intensity of purpose that Bill knew in 1944, but that is precisely why his tenure there is meaningful. England, as we know it today, exists only because of people like Bill Cramsie—whether they be British, American, Canadian or other allies—who laid the foundation for the greatest assault by sea ever undertaken by man.

My stay at Wethersfield was short, as I had other business at hand, but it could not have been more memorable. By design, I stayed in two different Bed and Breakfast facilities. The day of arrival, I stayed with the Bryant family at the Upper Barns B&B on Hedingham Road. Ashley and Diana were perfect hosts and I had a most pleasant discussion in the great hall that evening about music with their son Tom, who is quite an accomplished songwriter.

Great Hall at Upper Barns

The building was built in AD 1590 and still retains much of the original structural material. I couldn't help wondering if Bill Cramsie had occasion to pass this way on a casual country walk from the airbase into the hamlet of Wethersfield, which is only a mile or two away as the crow flies. Diana helped me connect by telephone with the Ministry of Defense office at the base and confirm my visit for the following morning.

On Thursday morning, March 11th, Diana kindly drove me to the base and dropped off my travel bag at the Church Hill House, a 500-year-old guest house on High Street at the center of Wethersfield. It sits directly across the street from the St. Mary Magdalene parish church and it turns out that the Bryants and my new hosts Richard and Susan Clubley are actually close friends. The Clubleys were the most gracious hosts one could ask for and I enjoyed my time with them immensely. They arranged, through a friend, an introduction to the staff of the cemetery at Cambridge which proved helpful and invited me to attend a very interesting local historical society lecture at the village hall with them that night.

Church Hill House

I was received at the Wethersfield base by Ms. Ros Gourgey, who spent the entire morning giving me a very detailed tour of the base. The facility is currently occupied by the Ministry of Defense police and is primarily a training base for anti-terrorist tactics. The runways and taxiways, while still in surprisingly good shape, are not open to general aviation and are used only on occasion these days for glider training. A number of photos of the base, taken during WWII and since, are posted online at the 416th Bomb Group website. Many of the Nissan Hut buildings of WWII era were replaced during the USAF tenancy in the 1970s, but the occasional building from the earlier period still stands. The main hanger is intact and still in use today as a driver training center. A number of the original huts remain in the old bomb storage area and a few still remain within the old headquarters area and around the periphery of the base. A local historian, Ms. Judith Slater accompanied us on the tour and shared stories about past occupancy and incidents at the base. I had studied the base layout prior to my trip and was thrilled to find that we could drive on and around the runways and aircraft parking areas where the individual 416th squadrons were bivouacked. I felt a tightness in the pit of my stomach as we drove past the 671st Bomb Squadron area, now merely an open field with a fuel storage tank set on a concrete slab.

We visited the site of the old control tower, which was demolished only months before my visit. A group of local citizens had lobbied to preserve it, but to no avail. Standing inside the main aircraft hanger, a facility that looked like it might house six to eight A-20s at a time for major repairs, I was impressed with the massive steel structural supports—all of which, I was told, were shipped from the U.S. to Britain and assembled in the days when the 416th was training at Lake Charles and Laurel. The amount of logistical planning and execution in just this one effort of developing, equipping and sustaining the 416th must have been staggering, it's hard to fathom what the entire scope of the war effort required. The base chapel that existed during WWII is still standing at Wethersfield today and a 416th Bomb Group memorial plaque is affixed to the wall next to it.

After touring the base, we returned to the office where I was met by Ross Stewart, head of Information Management and Communications Systems. Ross is very interested in the early history of Wethersfield and shared several old maps of the facility with me, including some overlays he had done with the runway superimposed on old English maps. Everyone at the facility was extremely kind and hospitable to me and I can't thank them enough for their kindness. That afternoon, I visited the parish church in Wethersfield which, for a small village, is an imposing structure both architecturally and historically. Adjacent to the church is an old cemetery that would surely have many stories to tell. One can walk from one end of the village to the other in ten minutes or so. It's a lovely and quaint place set in a very rural environment.

On Friday morning, Richard drove me to Cambridge, where we visited the American Cemetery, known locally as Madingley Cemetery. It was a somber, overcast day but the rain held off long enough for me to video tape the graves of the six 416th members buried there and the names of those inscribed in the Wall of the Missing. Cemetery foreman Les Turner was a tremendous help, not only in locating the graves and inscriptions but in making them easy to photograph. Les carried a bucket of wet sand and a sponge and filled the engraved text with sand to make it more visible. He also made copies for me of the individual burial records of 416th personnel. A few clips from that visit are included in a short video that I put together.

Walking on the stones

2010-02-08T11:33:00.000-08:00

I was born in March of 1943, as Bill Cramsie was anxiously anticipating graduation from West Point and moving on to his life's dream — flying. Amidst the complex weave of human experience, Bill's life and mine first crossed in 2005 and have crossed so many times since that I've lost count. In March of this year, the day after celebrating my own birthday, I'll board a jetliner for England where I'll have the opportunity to briefly visit the base at Wethersfield where Bill spent his last days.

Touching an object related to another person can sometimes evoke powerful and mysterious feelings. Whether it be a grandmother's locket or a father's wartime military uniform, the tactile connection is very real and often metaphysical. So it was with Bill Cramsie's class ring when I first held it in my hand. I had the same feeling a couple years later as I sat in a train northbound from New York City to West Point. With Bill Cramsie's ring in hand, I felt that we were actually companions on this journey that he had made many times.

I have little doubt that Wethersfield, with Bill's ring in hand, will be one of those "thin places" for me, where the barrier between the present and the past is vulnerable. I plan also to visit the American Cemetery at Cambridge, where Bill's name is inscribed on the Wall of the Missing. As I stood before a similar wall at the Veterans Museum in Branson, MO last September, I had a very calming flush of emotion—different in a way than those more anxious moments with the ring and with West Point. Bill Cramsie's name is inscribed at Branson among those of all U.S. veterans killed during WWII. In reality, it is one of thousands upon thousands and is rarely, if ever, noticed. But as Tom Rickels, the nephew of Bill Cramsie, and I stood together before that simple inscription, it felt as though a calling had somehow been fulfilled.

I had anticipated that the writing of First to Fall would be a final chapter for me in this extraordinary experience, but apparently not. The story continues to unfold and the opportunity to walk on the stones that Bill Cramsie walked on merely fanned the flame.

I'll report back after this visit.

NRA Supporting America's Military

2010-01-14T19:48:00.000-08:00

At the NRA Annual Meeting in 2009, Lt. Col. Oliver North presented a stirring tribute to the American soldier of today. At a time when many of the values of America are being questioned, nobody on the face of this earth can question the patriotism, strength and compassion of our men under arms. They carry on a proud and honorable tradition and do great credit to the memory of those who have served before them.

Clicking on the photo below will take you to the NRA video of this touching tribute.

Last 416th West Pointer

2009-12-31T15:35:00.000-08:00

The West Point class of June 1943 produced many heroes, some of whom lost their lives on the field of battle, others who went on to serve their country with distinction for more than half a century after the end of World War II. Sixteen members of that class who became aviators were assigned to the 416th Bomb Group. Bill Cramsie was the first member of that group, and of his class, to be killed in action. Dick Wheeler was the last surviving member of that group. He was not only a classmate of Cramsie, they were close friends. Dick wrote the obituary for Bill Cramsie that appeared in the West Point newsletter, "The Pointer" in 1946.

Dick Wheeler passed away on December 30, 2009. After enjoying Christmas with his family, he suffered a heart attack early Monday morning. His spirit remained strong but his body could no longer keep up. He passed with his wife Alice at his side and surrounded by all of his children and grandchildren. It was my distinct honor to know Colonel Wheeler, who was clearly a hero, having won a Distinguished Flying Cross during the war and another during peacetime for his world-record setting parachute jump of 42,449 feet at Holloman AFB, NM in 1950. During the 416th Bomb Group Reunion this past September, I video-taped about two hours of discussion with Dick about his years at West Point and with the 416th. Attached here are a few short clips from that interview. He will be missed by many, but especially by those who understood his untiring devotion to "Duty, Honor, Country."

When a Soldier Comes Home

2009-12-26T19:59:00.001-08:00

One of the many "pass it on" emails circulating widely deals with the widened perspective that war forces upon all, but especially upon the young. That email was created by Captain Alison L. Crane, a nurse in the 7302nd Medical Training Support Battalion. Rather than simply pass it on to my email list, where it would quickly be lost in the morass of cyberspace, I decided to put Captain Crane's message and photos into a slideshow movie that could be posted here. The images will advance automatically. As background, I added the a cappella rendition of Amazing Grace by the Cactus Cuties, from Lubbock, Texas. I hope it's as inspiring to you as it was to Doris and me. To view a larger image, just use the zoom-in feature of your browser (under the "view" menu) while playing the presentation.

A Matter of Aesthetics

2009-12-04T12:10:00.001-08:00

A 90-year-old Virginia Medal of Honor winner and veteran of WWII and Vietnam has been ordered to remove the flag pole from his front yard because it does not conform "aesthetically" to the standards of the homeowners association where he lives. They want the most highly decorated combat soldier alive to fly his flag from a wall mount. The story is covered by WTVR.com out of Richmond.

http://www.wtvr.com/news/wtvr-veteran-flagpole,0,2550197.story

In the first day of posting, more than 3,000 comments have been appended to the article and the issue is gaining national attention.

Heroes among us

2009-11-11T08:34:00.000-08:00

On this Veteran's Day 2009 there are good wishes and heartfelt thanks pouring across America, but none struck me more poignantly than the one that follows here. It came as a "pass it on" email and caught my eye when I saw the name Chuck Yeager in the subject line. I have long admired General Yeager, not only for his accomplishments but for his candid, often frontal, communications. Everyone who has any interest in military aviation knows the story of Chuck Yeager. He was already a hero when I was a young boy. It's like the old Smith-Barney commercial, when he speaks, everyone listens. I had the good fortune to meet Chuck Yeager in 1973, though it did not seem like good fortune at the time.

I enlisted in the Air Force right after graduating from High School. My dream was to attend the Air Force Academy, but I wasn't smart enough to realize that one achieves that kind of goal through years of preparation. The competitive exam for a Congressional appointment was a real wake-up call. I must admit that my academic career at Horicon High School was less than stellar. However, I seemed to make up for lack of foresight with dogged determination and after ten years of reaching for that brass ring I managed to earn a bachelors degree and the brown bars of a Second Lieutenant through the Air Force's Bootstrap Commissioning Program. In May of 1972, I officially became a "Mustang", as we late-bloomers are often called. I was a relatively mature "2nd Louie" and by early 1973 was assigned to the position of Commander of the 2081st Communications Squadron at Goodfellow AFB, Texas. I had only been in the office a couple weeks when the base was hit with a no-notice IG inspection from the Air Force Inspector General himself. Yes, it was then Brigadier General Chuck Yeager. At the end of a grueling week, General Yeager had all of the middle and top level managers on the base assembled for an out-briefing. He personally took the stage to inform us that the most impressive thing he and his team had seen at Goodfellow was the base dump. It was a very long and very quiet session that followed. I was a little shell-shocked, but what that experience imprinted on me was the singular message that "good enough for government work" is not a tenable position. The lesson that General Yeager left on the table served me, and I think the Air Force, very well in the years that followed. It is probably a bit ironic (or perhaps poetic justice) that this happened in my first assignment as an officer and my final assignment before retiring was as an inspector and Team Chief on the Inspector General's team.

Today, General Yeager (one of those heroes among us) has shared another important lesson. We must all remember those who have served—be they comrades, neighbors, loved ones or just someone passing in uniform. Below is the email from General Yeager in which he details an experience that personally touches me and is worth "passing on".

We're hearing a lot today about big splashy memorial services.

I want a nationwide memorial service for Darrell "Shifty" Powers.

Shifty volunteered for the airborne in WWII and served with Easy Company of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, part of the 101st Airborne Infantry. If you've seen Band of Brothers on HBO or the History Channel, you know Shifty. His character appears in all 10 episodes, and Shifty himself is interviewed in several of them.

I met Shifty in the Philadelphia airport several years ago. I didn't know who he was at the time. I just saw an elderly gentleman having trouble reading his ticket. I offered to help, assured him that he was at the right gate, and noticed the "Screaming Eagle," the symbol of the 101st Airborne, on his hat.

Making conversation, I asked him if he'd been in the 101st Airborne or if his son was serving. He said quietly that he had been in the 101st. I thanked him for his service, then asked him when he served, and how many jumps he made.

Quietly and humbly, he said "Well, I guess I signed up in 1941 or so, and was in until sometime in 1945 .. . . " at which point my heart skipped.

At that point, again, very humbly, he said "I made the 5 training jumps at Toccoa, and then jumped into Normandy . . . . do you know where Normandy is?" At this point my heart stopped.

I told him "yes, I know exactly where Normandy is, and I know what D-Day was." At that point he said "I also made a second jump into Holland, into Arnhem ." I was standing with a genuine war hero . . . . and then I realized that it was June, just after the anniversary of D-Day..

I asked Shifty if he was on his way back from France , and he said "Yes. And it's real sad because, these days, so few of the guys are left, and those that are, lots of them can't make the trip." My heart was in my throat and I didn't know what to say.

I helped Shifty get onto the plane and then realized he was back in Coach while I was in First Class. I sent the flight attendant back to get him and said that I wanted to switch seats. When Shifty came forward, I got up out of the seat and told him I wanted him to have it, that I'd take his in coach.

He said "No, son, you enjoy that seat. Just knowing that there are still some who remember what we did and who still care is enough to make an old man very happy." His eyes were filling up as he said it. And mine are brimming up now as I write this.

Shifty died on June 17, 2009 after fighting cancer.

There was no parade.

No big event in Staples Center .

No wall to wall back to back 24x7 news coverage.

No weeping fans on television.

And that's not right.

Let's give Shifty his own Memorial Service, online, in our own quiet way. Please forward this email to everyone you know. Especially to the veterans.

Rest in peace, Shifty.

Chuck Yeager, MajGen. [ret.]

Memorial

2009-10-16T07:08:00.000-07:00

We consolidated some poignant photos from other internet sources and background music from the USAF band into a short video clip for presentation at the 416th Bomb Group reunion banquet on September 12, 2009 at Branson, MO. It is a memorial to those veterans of the Group who recently passed away. Those killed in action, or who died before about 2000 are not included in this clip, but a project to honor their memory is currently being planned. The original video included a rendition of the National Anthem, which is not included here.

Defining Moments

2009-10-06T18:07:00.000-07:00

We can all look back at moments in our lives when something extraordinary moved us abruptly from the path that we were on and launched us on a new course. These, for lack of a better term, might be called defining moments. The journey that led to the writing of First to Fall was punctuated by a host of defining moments—so much so that I often wondered where the path was headed next. One of the most powerful episodes was the apparition of Clemie Smith's V-mail sent to Bob Basnett in June of 1944.

Nearly three years ago, on October 19, 2006 to be exact, Doris and I were visiting with Bob and Puz Basnett at their home in central Missouri. We had enjoyed a delicious meal and a couple glasses of wine when the discussion turned to Bill Cramsie. Bob shared a number of memories and patiently endured my grilling for details. Then, without saying a word, he rose from the table and walked into a nearby room. When he came back, he had in his hand what looked like a photograph, except that it was all handwriting. Although I knew of V-mail, this was the first that I had actually seen. It took me by surprise, not only because it was more than 60 years old, but also because it was signed by Clemie Smith. As I sat there, nonplussed, Doris had the presence of mind to snap a photo. As I was soon to learn, that photo captured a defining moment.

Wayne (right) holding the V-mail from Clemie Smith

The first thing I noticed was that Clemie's address (previously unknown to me) was at the top of the form. Other little details were enlightening, but the lightning bolt struck when I read these words: "Have seen Dee and she told me Bill is missing in action - and asked me to ask you if you knew anything about it." Bob had told me about the double-dates in Manhattan, but he did not remember the name of the girl that Bill had dated. Here it was—sort of. My first thought was how I would ever find someone named "Dee" in a city the size of New York.

Vmail from Clemie Smith to Bob Basnett - June 1944

It took the better part of two years and a LOT of false leads and dead ends before the mysterious Dee finally materialized. But, in the process, I learned enough about their relationship to know that Dee and Bill were far more than casual acquaintances. The revelation in Clemie Smith's V-mail was indeed a defining moment in the development of First to Fall because it brought to me a new perspective of Bill Cramsie the person, not just the West Pointer killed in action. Without the V-mail from Clemie, it is very likely that I would not have been able to follow the story to its conclusion.

Forever Young

2009-07-26T07:35:00.000-07:00

This past week I spent an afternoon with Ralph Conte in Columbia, Missouri. This active nonagenarian was a Bombardier/Navigator with the 669th and 670th Bomb Squadrons of the 416th Bomb Group during WWII and authored the Group history Attack Bombers We Need You. Most of his 65 combat missions were flown in the A-20 Havoc. He is the recipient of the Distinguished Flying Cross, the Purple Heart and numerous other U.S. and Allied Nation decorations and awards. Ralph graciously consented to sitting for a video taping session and for three hours he shared many remembrances of his days in the 416th, some delightful and some insightful—all of them interesting. At the very end of the session, Ralph reflected on the process of looking back. It was a poignant moment that I thought worth sharing now. The remainder of this interview will serve as source material, along with other interviews, photos and remembrances, for an eventual documentary about the 416th.

Ralph Conte

By the way, there is a photo of the "sprightly" Wayne Downing and his charming wife Norma at:
http://cramsie.blogspot.com/2009_03_01_archive.html

Coming Home

2009-06-01T10:05:00.000-07:00

Anyone who has an Email account has had more than one experience with forwarded inspirational messages. While these are always well intentioned, and often touching, they do tend to gang up on one's free time and tax one's ability sometimes to fully appreciate them. As a matter of course, I rarely pass them on. But, one came from a friend in the mail last week that I simply must share. Any copyright info was long since lost in the forwarding process but the origin is clearly a message from Ford Motor Company™. It is, in fact, a commercial of sorts. So, let's add the copyright back in and give full credit to Ford for producing the most poignant commercial that I have ever seen. Yes, even better than the Budweiser Christmas commercials. I'm not given to emotionalism, as all who know me well will quickly attest, but this video brings tears to my eyes every time I watch it. Now, even if you are a fan of the new State-owned General Motors products, you owe it to yourself to watch this one. I'm pretty sure that Ford will forgive my transgression in passing it along.

Two of the Many

2009-05-23T18:36:00.000-07:00

On this Memorial Day, 2009, we should all pause to reflect on the many sacrifices that have assured our rights and freedoms in America. Some will enjoy a Memorial Day parade and perhaps attend a memorial service at a local cemetery. Volunteers, across the land, will be placing flags on the graves of a million or more veterans—many of them in the 128 National Cemeteries—and flying flags from their homes. It has become a fitting tradition that on this day we honor those who perished during time of war. We tend to focus on what we have gained through their sacrifice, but we ought to remember as well what we have lost. These gallant men and women were among the best that our country had to offer on the altar of peace. It boggles the mind to think what more we could have done with the benefit of their presence these many years.

William Edward Cramsie and Robert John Rooney were clearly exceptional young men. They had endured much to graduate from the U.S. Military Academy at West Point in June of 1943 and to earn their wings in the Army Air Corps. They were Irishmen and proud of their heritage. They also were room mates at the academy and close friends. They served with honor and distinction during WWII flying twin-engine attack bombers in the 416th Bomb Group. Both died in action tragically, and needlessly, under heart-wrenching circumstances. These were men that could have climbed almost any mountain and certainly would have been leaders in any field of endeavor that they chose. Their loss is striking to us, but must have been monumental at the time for those who knew, loved and admired them. Although we can look back into their lives and reconstruct events, or postulate actions and emotions, it is a feeble attempt at best to recapture the essence of who they were and what we have lost. The best that we can do today is to honor their memory as a very small tribute to them and to the many that they represent.

Dee

2009-04-26T15:08:00.000-07:00

Dolloretta "Dee" Rogers and Bill Cramsie had met at West Point while Bill was an underclassman—in a rather unusual way according to her own telling. Dee had been talking with some upperclassmen, who were friends of her sister Kathleen, when Bill walked by. She asked the cadets she was with at the time who Bill was. They broke with the strict protocol of the day and called Bill over to introduce him. Dee and Bill apparently got along famously from the start. They spent time together at academy social functions and perhaps during rare passes when Bill could get into New York City. After graduation, Bill completed his flying training at Stewart Field in Newburgh, NY not very far north of West Point. There, he would have had considerably more freedom to get away occasionally. Bill was assigned to the 416th Bomb Group in September of 1943 and was transferred with that Group to England in January of 1944. The men of the 416th were sent to Camp Shanks, on the west bank of the Hudson across from Tarrytown, NY. While awaiting the formation of a convoy, Bill and Bob Basnett met Dee and her friend Clementine Smith on at least two, possibly three occasions in New York City. After the unit arrived in England, Bill and Dee remained in touch via V-mail. When Bill was declared Missing in Action, on April 10, 1944, Dee's letters to him were found among his personal effects. The squadron commander then wrote to her explaining what had happened. In a later V-mail from Clemie Smith to Bob Basnett, Clemie mentioned that she had seen Dee and wondered if there were any further word about Bill.

Several years after the war, Dee married John R. Cleary with Clemie Smith being one of the bridesmaids. The couple made their home in Detroit, Michigan—eventually moving to southern Florida. After searching for four years, I finally located Dee Rogers Cleary. Unfortunately, time had won the race. Dee was in a medical care facility and could not provide the countless details that I longed to hear. Through the gracious assistance of her son Jack and his wife Julie, enough details were gathered to confirm that this was indeed the Dee of my search. It was in the Fall of 2008 that I finished First to Fall and sent it to press. Dee was failing, but I immediately sent a copy of the book hoping that she could at least see what had come of this quest. As she neared death during the Christmas holidays, much of the book was read to her at her bedside by Julie. As often is the case in those closing days, one's memories clear and emotions return. Dee left us quietly on December 31, 2008. In relaying the sad news, Jack wrote that the book "brought back many happy memories to her of the time she spent getting to know Bill as well as her best friend Clemie Smith." That it brought joy and good memories to her at a trying time was a huge validation for me personally, making the many hours of research meaningful.

This morning, as I poured through two weeks accumulation of emails from being out of town, I came upon a message from Jack Cleary with the attached photo from his brother Tom that I've posted here. In all of the years that I had known of Dee, I had never seen a photo of her. As I sat before my computer, transfixed by the image, I knew instinctively that I had gotten it right.

Cousin Ned

2009-04-26T11:44:00.000-07:00

My first contact with Edward (Ned) Burr came fairly early in my research about Bill Cramsie. Ned is the current president of the alumni of the West Point class of June 1943. He shared with me, by telephone, his memories of Bill and directed me to those who might still recall details from the three years they spent at the academy. In the process, I discovered much to my surprise that Ned and I have a common ancestral trail. Sarah Burr married my GGGG grandfather, Samuel Darling, in 1782, and they had a daughter name Esther who married Stephen Sayles. Ned and I connect a bit farther up the trail from Sarah. So, the DNA match is probably not too obvious. But it was fun nonetheless to find such a distant cousin.

Last weekend, I needed to travel to Washington DC on some business and Ned invited me to spend an evening with him and his charming wife Nikki. What a wonderful experience that turned out to be! Aside from the inevitable stories about West Point and WWII, I was enthralled with Nikki's memories of landing a job at the New York Times and her later writing and publishing experiences. We enjoyed an exceptional dinner of Chicken Oscar at the local "Officer's Mess". I call it that lovingly (even though it was not) since practically everyone in the building was ex-military. The Burrs live in a beautifully appointed military retirement facility adjacent to Fort Belvoir, Virginia. The atmosphere is very "up-scale" and the dinner was prepared and served to perfection. I felt compelled to share with Ned and Nikki my experience at the Waldorf Hotel in New York City where Chicken Oscar originated. Each year, in early January, I travel to NYC for a business convention which is held on one of the upper floors of the Waldorf Hotel. In reading about Clemie Smith, I discovered that she and her sisters often played harp in the Starlight Room of the Waldorf—apparently the rage at that time. When, on my next trip, I went looking for that room I discovered very much to my surprise that it was the very room that I have been coming to for many years. A coincidence, no doubt, but only one of far too many that came along during the writing of First to Fall. It was easy for me, on my latest visit, to hear the sounds of laughter and the shuffle of New York's "upper crust" echoing from the walls.

Having schlepped my video equipment along on this trip to Washington, with the intention of capturing some of Ned's memories on tape, we spent about an hour and a half preserving for posterity some of the things that stand out in the mind of a young man at West Point. Ned is an animated and articulate speaker and I'm anxiously looking forward to editing these tapes because I know in advance that they are going to be very entertaining and informative.

The next morning, I had the pleasure of meeting Dutch Umlauf for breakfast. Dutch is also a member of the class of June 1943 and remembered both Cramsie and Bob Rooney well. I was stunned when he casually mentioned that Cramsie and Rooney were roommates at the academy. Nobody that I had previously spoken to could recall who Bill Cramsie's roommate was. From early on in the research process, I felt very much like there was a link between the two, but had no real evidence to make the connection. As in nearly every case along the way, this tidbit came unexpectedly and in the form of a revelation. I had already decided before meeting Dutch that I would be writing the story of Bob Rooney (another tragedy) as a sequel to First to Fall. How strange is that?

The Great Abyss

2009-03-19T18:38:00.000-07:00

Some time ago I was approached by a colleague who had also written a book about the 416th Bomb Group and wanted to produce a documentary about the group and its history. The proposal struck me as appealing because I had actually harbored thoughts of doing the same, even though I was totally inexperienced in the medium of videography. The project that this colleague proposed was to be a team effort that would include professional video production people and was to be funded by a public grant. I would do a share of the interviewing and we would collaborate on the narrative. It all sounded exciting. However, over several months, the project tended to lose momentum and finally stalled for lack of ability to obtain a commitment for grant funds. Over the past year, at least four of those veterans who would have been interviewed have died and a couple more have developed medical problems that make an interview impractical. One of those that passed away was Scotty Street, the last man to see Bill Cramsie alive. The death of Mr. Street was a very strong wakeup call for me personally. I began to realize that waiting is not an option if we want to preserve the stories these courageous men have to tell. About three months ago, I decided to launch an effort on my own.

Lacking even the most rudimentary knowledge of digital video or video interviewing, I went online looking for help. It was my good fortune to stumble across DVinfo.net and a passel of friendly video experts. The site is a discussion group where practically every conceivable subject about digital video has been discussed by people who know what they're talking about. I laid out my dilemma, admitted my complete ignorance, and asked for help. Early in the process, one of the regulars who actually became very helpful later advised me to forget it and hire a professional. That was good advice, but the cost to do what needed to be done was an impossible burden. So, after more than 60 discussion list exchanges with more than a dozen experts, I assembled the basic equipment and stepped off into that wide abyss that skydivers or bungi jumpers must experience. At times, it certainly did feel like free falling. Since it would be necessary to travel across the country to do these taping sessions, I focussed on small and light equipment with the goal of fitting everything needed into an airline carry-on bag. After a lot of research and creative planning, here is a list of what my equipment consisted of:

(2) Canon Vixia HV30 high definition video cameras
(4) Rechargeable camera batteries
(1) Canon AC adapter
(2) AC/DC battery chargers
(1) Lavalier microphone with cable
(1) Shotgun microphone with cable and mounting hardware
(1) Two-piece telescoping shotgun mike boom
(2) 51" collapsing camera tripods
(1) 2' tabletop tripod
(2) 7' collapsing light stands with light fixtures
(1) 36" umbrella reflector
(1) 12" aluminum spotlight reflector
(1) Backlight fixture
(2) 85 watt fluorescent daylight bulbs (340 watt tungsten equivalent each)
(2) 26 watt fluorescent daylight bulbs (100 watt tungsten equivalent each)
(1) Folding headset
(1) Firewire cable
(1) Polarizing and color correction filter kit
(4) Extra microphone batteries
(1) 9' AC extension cord
(1) Three-way AC outlet adapter
(15) One-hour Mini DV tapes

Yes, remarkably, it does fit into a carry-on. I also carry a laptop and a flatbed scanner in a shoulder bag. My strategy is simple. I set up two cameras separated by about 15 degrees, one with a tight head shot and one with a wider upper torso shot. Each camera is fed with a different external microphone. All taping is done on battery power to eliminate any 60 Hz hum or ground loops. With this system, I have full redundancy of video and audio. I can monitor the cameras from my seated position before the subject, but do not have to do anything with them once the taping starts. This allows me to concentrate on the subject and hold eye contact. The cameras just keep recording and the unwanted segments will be cut later in editing. If there is a change in framing or audio level, I can see it and make any needed correction on the spot. Since the subject is lit with a conventional 3-light arrangement with daylight fluorescents bulbs, there is no heat or uncomfortable glare.

My first attempt with this setup was a three-day session last week in southern California with Wayne Downing, a pilot with the 416th who flew 86 combat missions in Europe during WWII. Wayne was flying on the mission in which Bill Cramsie was killed.

Wayne and Norma Downing - France 1944

He and his wife Norma (both veterans of WWII and married in France during the war) graciously invited me into their home, where a mini studio was set up in their living room. We taped nearly six hours of memories (12 hours of raw DV tape) and could have gone on even longer had there been more time. It was an extraordinary experience for me and, regardless of any amateurism that may show up in my filming, the information that was preserved is priceless.

My next interview will be with Ned Burr, a West Point graduate of the class of June 1943 who is currently president of the class alumni group. Several others are planned throughout the remainder of this year. My intention is to capture and save the raw data now and then edit the clips at a later date.

The Cramsie Diary

2009-02-21T15:07:00.000-08:00

Those who have read First To Fall realize that the diary entries written in the hand of Bill Cramsie were constructed from events, not copied from an actual diary. Ned Burr, who is the president of the alumni of the class of June 1943 and is himself mentioned in the book, wrote about the diaries in a recent correspondence: "I found [them] so realistic that it took me a while to realize that they were yours, not his." The evolution of the Cramsie diary is something that may be worth explaining. My initial drafts of First To Fall were written in a style not unlike most histories and biographies, very matter of fact. Though I was quite satisfied with the detail that was presented, the narrative lacked the emotion that I felt the story deserved. After much deliberation, I decided to hire a "Ghost Writer" to help me structure the story a bit differently. I won't go into the process here, but I was led by providence to a web site through which I met Alice McVeigh. Almost immediately, I knew that Alice was the right person to help me with the problem I was having. Little did I know that she was the granddaughter of General Maxwell D. Taylor, a West Point graduate, a West Point Superintendant and a figure who played prominently in the Normandy invasion of 1944 not to mention his extraordinary service for the following 20 years. That discovery left me with goose bumps.

Alice was the one who first suggested doing the book as a Cramsie diary. Because there is so much technical detail, I felt that sort of presentation might not work in all cases. What I ultimately decided to do was to have Alice take the personal aspects of my narrative and convert them to diary format. I then interleaved them with the technical aspects that were written from my perspective. The bulk of the diary entries were based on actual events that were gleaned from military records at West Point and at the Air Force Historical Research Agency. Thus, the story was able to be unfolded factually in both a personal and technical atmosphere. The use of different fonts for the two "voices" of Bill Cramsie and myself made the separation clear and actually helped to develop a "then and now" aspect that was an unexpected bonus.

Bois des Huit Rues

2009-02-17T20:56:00.000-08:00

The V-1 launch site at Bois des Huit Rues was well hidden within a patch of woods northwest of Morbecque and southwest of Hazebrouck in the Pas de Calais region of France perhaps better known to Americans as Flanders. The operational and personnel facilities were located within the wooded area itself, but the launch ramp was by necessity constructed at the edge of an open field to the north. The ruins of this site, designated site 623 by the German Luftwaffe, are still visible along a well posted walking path in what is now a state forest area.

The dark patch of green at the center of this satellite photo is Bois des Huit Rues

The site had been earmarked as a priority target in the Spring of 1944 and when the weather cleared on April 10th, after two weeks of inactivity, the 416th dispatched 36 A-20 bombers on a mission to destroy the secret facility. The weather forecast called for heavy overcast over the English Channel but clearing skies to the south over France. Official mission reports were conflicting in regard to the weather. The lead navigators of each of the two flights reported the results as a "bad miss" due to heavy cloud cover over the target. The 9th Air Force reports indicated, however, that weather was not a factor. Only recently, this conflicting information was resolved when a series of previously unpublished official photos included a photo from this mission. The cloud cover was very dense, as the navigators had reported, and the flights made three passes over the target before dropping their bombs. Some aircraft were unable to drop at all. The overall results were devastating for the 416th as the group lost three aircraft and two crews on that day.

Mission photo from April 10, 1944

Nine days later, the 416th returned to Bois des Huit Rues and destroyed the site. The aerial photo from that mission is revealing as the bomb craters from previous missions are clearly visible.

Mission photo from April 19, 1944

Operation Crossbow

2009-02-05T14:43:00.000-08:00

The V-1 "Buzz Bomb" or "Doodlebug" was still shrouded in mystery during the Fall of 1943 when 416th Bomb Group crews were training in the southeastern U.S. for low-level attack missions with their twin-engined A-20 Havoc light bombers. Nobody at that time, least of all the men of the 416th, could have envisioned the role that the V-1 would play in their future war effort. By the time men and planes had arrived and consolidated at Wethersfield RAF base northeast of London in January and February of 1944, the newly arrived 9th Air Force was learning about military targeting and political pressure.

British leaders had been briefed that a new secret weapon being deployed by the Germans along the Atlantic Wall could rain a virtually unstoppable assault of aerial bombs upon London and other British population centers. With the Battle of Britain and its savage bombings still searing their memories, the high command was determined to stop this threat before it could become operational. The code name for these secret weapon sites was NOBALL and every pilot in the British isles, knew that these sites were a priority target. That was about all that they knew about them. The air power resources at the disposal of the Allies in Britain in the months leading up to D-Day were hotly contested by three groups: the strategic planners, the tactical planners and the British homeland defense forces. The heavy bombers with deep penetrating capability into Germany were employed mainly by the strategic planners in their effort to disrupt the production of war materiel. American commanders wanted the medium and light bombers to concentrate on softening communications sites, marshalling yards, airfields and transportation lanes. The British wanted all of the air power directed at these new weapon sites to remove them as a threat to the population centers of the island. The campaign to do that was dubbed Operation Crossbow. Although some heavy bombers did attack Crossbow sites, the main weapon systems deployed against them were the B-26 Marauder, a medium bomber, and the A-20 Havoc, a light bomber. Not only did the British prevail in earmarking these units for Crossbow missions (much to the consternation of American field commanders) they also insisted that the missions be flown at relatively high altitudes since their early low-level missions in the Boston (RAF equivalent of the Havoc) sustained very high losses. Ironically, General Hap Arnold had already proven in carefully controlled tests that the Havoc was more effective against these sites at low level, but politics prevailed and the British had their way.

During the months of March through May of 1944, the vast majority of medium and light bomber missions out of England were directed at NOBALL sites. In retrospect, these missions were extremely costly. Not only did they claim the lives of many young airmen, they accomplished virtually nothing in the way of deterring V-1 deployment. After Allied raids on the V-1 sites started in the Fall of 1943, the Germans quickly abandoned plans to launch from the hardened Atlantic Wall sites and converted their operations to mobile launchers. The hardened sites were ringed with antiaircraft units and hasty repairs were done after bombing raids to give the illusion of continued operations. The Germans baited Allied intelligence and the air crews paid the price. It was a colossal ruse that the Allies did not recognize until after the invasion at Normandy. It was on one of these Crossbow missions, April 10, 1944, that Bill Cramsie and his crew lost their lives in an heroic but futile effort.

Clemie watching over us

2009-01-16T11:31:00.000-08:00

For the past two decades, my travel schedule has included a sortie to Manhattan each winter to attend an international numismatic convention. As mentioned in First To Fall, it was on one of these trips that I was honored to meet Chris and Sheran Daniele in their home at Pelham Manor. Sherry is the daughter of Clementine Smith—a friend of Bill Cramsie's from the days when Marymount girls enriched the social life of West Point cadets. I was particularly interested in details about Clemie because of her dates with Bob Basnett while doubling with Bill Cramsie and Dee Rogers at New York City in January of 1944. The young aviators were temporarily at Camp Shanks, NY awaiting a transport to the war zone.

Last week, I returned to Manhattan and rejoined the Daniele family at Pelham for a most pleasant evening of remembrances. This historic and beautifully maintained hamlet lies on the western shore of Long Island Sound only a 28-minute train ride north of Grand Central Station. I had met Chris and Sherry's daughter Lia on my earlier visit and was happy to be able to see her again briefly on this trip as she was teaching a class of young ballerinas at her mother's dance studio in Pelham. Their younger daughter Teresa was home from college this time and I was able to meet her as well. During the research for and writing of First To Fall, I had become spiritually connected it seems with many of those who are no longer with us and Clemie Smith was one of those. As Sherry, Teresa and I conversed about things past and present I was drawn to the portrait of Clemie that rests above their fireplace mantel. It was a three-generational living snapshot with Clemie watching over us as we revisited some of her early days. The physical likeness was obvious to me and I could particularly envision her grandmother in Teresa's face and demeanor. I'm sure that Clemie is very proud.

One of the most rewarding aspects of my research has been the opportunity to meet many extraordinary people in a very personal way. The sense of attachment that accompanied these meetings was an unexpected and greatly appreciated bonus.

CSI specialists unravel Cramsie mystery

2008-12-12T21:14:00.000-08:00

In the course of my research into the Cramsie family history, I was able to retrieve a copy of Frank Cramsie's WWI Draft Registration Card. These documents provide some very useful information, including age, physical description, place of residence, nearest living relative, place of employment and occupation. The cards were also signed by the registrant, which is an interesting personal connection to the individual. When I read through Frank's registration card, I could decipher most of the facts. But though I could see that he was employed by the Yuba Manufacturing Company in Marysville, California, I could not for the life of me make any sense out of his stated occupation. The image was poor and the handwriting was a little unusual. Fortunately, I happened to send the image to Tom Rickels, a son of Bill Cramsie's sister Ruth. Tom is a crime scene investigator with the Kern County, California Sheriff's Office and analysis of physical evidence is their business.

Tom replied the next day with the following:

"I believe we've solved the mystery of his job description. After a bit of handwriting analysis, digital imaging, and asking my friend Mark Riehle to take a look, we're very comfortable that the mystery word is: WAREHOUSEMAN. The first letter is a "W". The ascender on the letter (the last one when writing, or, on the right) is quite stubby; almost unseen. It appears that the word "warehouseman" was written with two breaks in it: ware-house-man. Mark really solved it, though. He's somewhat colorblind as sees gray tones with a vengeance. He had it figured out in less than a minute. I had to play with it on the computer until I could see what he was seeing. We all confirmed our findings with each other and are confident the word is "warehouseman". Mark is our "go-to" guy when we have difficult fingerprints to analyze or photographs that are muddy. I guess colorblindness isn't such a negative after all! I also did a quick search on Yuba Manufacturing Company. It appears that it specialized in making dredges for mining purposes."

From this document, and the sleuthing of Tom and his colleagues, we now know where, and in what sort of job, Frank Cramsie worked prior to his employment with the J.R. Garrett company in Marysville. The entire story of Bill Cramsie and his family has come to light in ways virtually identical to this. Tiny scraps of information have provided basic facts which, when set in context, create an interesting family and personal history.

Class of June 1943

2008-12-10T11:04:00.000-08:00

When Bill Cramsie reported to West Point in the summer of 1940, he was one of 590 young men who had ambitions of graduating from the U.S. Military Academy. They became the class of 1944. Due to the wartime demand for leaders in the field, Congress approved an accelerated program that scheduled the original class of 1943 (normally graduating in June) for early graduation in January of that year. The class of 1944 was accelerated by a full year, with a new graduation date of June 1943. Consequently, there were two graduating classes in 1943—January and June. Of the initial group, 514 received their diplomas and commissions in the U.S. Army as a 2nd Lieutenant. One of those who did not graduate was 1960s counterculture icon Timothy F. Leary.

The photo of cadet Cramsie posted here was shared by Tom Rickels, a son of Bill's sister Ruth. According to Tom, this photo hung on the bedroom wall of his parents for "as long as I can remember." It is a beautiful example of the technique known then as "tinting", which converted a black and white image to a color image. My maternal grandfather was a professional photographer and my mother learned to tint black and white photos as a young girl. I have several family photos from that era that she tinted. In fact, she taught me as a young boy to tint photos. It was a process that required great care, somewhat like oil painting, and I was unfortunately devoid of talent in that area. The photo tells us one fact about Bill Cramsie that surprisingly is omitted from any of the official records—the color of his eyes. We know from draft registration cards of his father and other family members that blue eyes were a genetic disposition, and the black and white photos of that era confirm that Bill's eyes were not a dark color. Still, the documention of their actual color comes from this photo alone.

416th Bomb Group

2008-12-08T20:55:00.000-08:00

The first road sign on my journey in search of Bill Cramsie was a military unit designation, the 416th Bomb Group (Light). This unit was formed in the U.S. and trained at Lake Charles, Louisiana and Laurel, Mississippi before transferring to England and the 9th Air Force in January of 1944. Surprisingly, the 416th did not have an individual unit patch. Each squadron had their own patches and they all wore the 9th AF patch. Sixteen West Point graduates from the class of June 1943 were assigned to the 416th in September of 1943, with four being assigned to each of the Group's four squadrons. Bill Cramsie was assigned to the 671st Bomb Squadron. My first exposure to the 416th came in the early days of 2006, partly through the book Attack Bombers We Need You, by 416th veteran Ralph Conte, and partly through email exchanges with former 671st gunner Ray Jones. It happened that Ray lived close enough for my wife Doris and I to drive to and we met him for a very pleasant session of war stories and photo album exploration. That summer, Doris and I attended the Group's annual reunion at Louisville, KY and met about a dozen veterans and their families. Some of the families came in force and it was much like an old fashioned family reunion. Indeed, that is exactly what happened in our case, we were immediately adopted by the group and made to feel like we had always been there. That instant bonding was at first a surprise to me, but the deeper I got into the writing of First To Fall, the less surprising those bonds became. I rarely met anyone in the process of researching the life of Bill Cramsie that I didn't have an immediate affinity for. It was, strangely enough, as though they had expected me. I won't go into the history of the 416th here because I have established a memorial site to the group that does precisely that. We have since attended the Group reunions at Oshkosh, WI and at Topsail Island, NC. The veterans are unable to manage the preparation and hosting of a reunion themselves, so it will fall to individual families to host any future reunions. Doris and I volunteered to host the 2009 reunion at Branson, MO on September 9th through 12. Most of the surviving Group members are in their late 80s or early 90s. They are, without exception, a most cordial and pleasant bunch to be around and becoming a part of their world has been a great honor for me. In future visits here I'll post some individual vignettes of those 416th veterans whom I have met.

First To Fall Video

2008-12-06T16:02:00.000-08:00

This simple video is my first attempt at the medium. It was produced on a Macintosh computer using the iMovie application. It is nothing more than still photos presented in a slide show mode with accompanying audio—nothing at all fancy and there are no actual video shots in the clip. I plan on trying my hand at a more sophisticated version in the near future. The opening photo, which zooms in on the penetrating eyes of Bill Cramsie is the photo from his West Point class yearbook, the Howitzer. The following shot is a photo of the cadets assembled at the West Point Station of the West Shore Railroad on December 20, 1941 for Chrismas leave. The third image is a collage of Bill Cramsie, the Catholic Chapel Choir, Bill's West Point class ring and a bird's eye view of the academy grounds. This zooms into a digital recreation of the airplane that Bill flew on April 10, 1944 and went down with on that day in Bradwell Bay, near the mouth of the Thames River. The final segment scrolls words from the final stanza of West Point school song "Alma Mater". The clip is supported by the tune "Garyowen" (sic) by Contemplator's Folk Music. Garryowen was an Irish folk tune that was popular in America in the mid-19th century and became the main marching tune of George Armstrong Custer's 7th Cavalry. Custer was a West Point graduate and is buried at West Point. References to the tune are woven subtly through First To Fall.

The Ring

2008-12-05T18:50:00.000-08:00

It would be difficult to overstate the significance of Ring Day in the life of a USMA cadet. The class ring is not only an emblem of achievement, it's a very personal symbol of the code by which graduates pledge to live their lives — a pledge of dedication to "Duty, Honor and Country." In fact, these three words are emblazoned on each ring as part of the coat of arms displayed in its impressive design. When I first held the class ring of Bill Cramsie in my hand, my initial thought was one of wonderment. How could such a magnificent and obviously cherished object be floating aimlessly, with no personal attachment? Although I had no connection to the ring whatever, I had an overwhelming feeling that it was "beckoning" me and my will to resist was losing ground fast.

I had heard that the ring was to West Pointers akin to a wedding ring. They rarely removed the ring from their finger. Colonel Richard Wheeler showed me very graphically how true that was. At a 416th Bomb Group reunion in 2006, he showed me his ring—it was worn to the point that one could hardly make out the detail of the designs. Dick Wheeler was a classmate of Bill Cramsie's and a close friend as well. They trained together, attended church together and flew together in combat. The contrast between Dick's heavily worn ring (that he has been wearing constantly since 1943) and Bill Cramsie's nearly pristine ring was a stark reminder that Cramsie had died young. Equally stark was the realization that this ring should be somewhere at the bottom of Bradwell Bay, where the body of its owner still lies. It was a very emotional (admittedly tearful) experience for both Dick and I as we stood there, rings in hand.

Dick Wheeler was given the sorrowful task and distinct honor of writing to Bill Cramsie's parents after his loss was confirmed. In that letter, Dick spoke of his friend's heroism and dedication to duty, honor and country. He mentioned how professional Bill was and how talented and well-liked he was by all who knew him. More than sixty years after that letter was written, I listened to Dick Wheeler recount that praise with unfailing recall. It was inspiring, but even more than that it made me realize how fortunate I was to be standing there hearing his words in person. In that brief instant, as the two of us stood there mesmerized by these two rings, the years were gone and we might as well have been standing on the flight line at Wethersfield. I knew at that moment that something very powerful was at work within me.

William Edward Cramsie

2008-12-03T19:24:00.000-08:00

As a boy growing up in the Sierra Nevada foothills, where his immigrant Irish grandfather was a pioneer in the gold rush days, Bill Cramsie dreamed of nothing but flying. His sole ambition was to become a West Point cadet and an Army Air Corps aviator. Through extraordinary effort and persistence, he achieved that goal. He graduated from West Point in the class of June 1943. Thrust into the fury of World War II, that class became the most highly decorated class in the history of the academy. Lt. Cramsie was assigned to the 416th Bomb Group and began flying combat missions out of England in the Spring of 1944. On April 10th, the day after Easter, his aircraft was badly damaged by flak while attacking a V-1 Buzz Bomb site in Flanders. Making three heroic passes over the target, and being hit on two of those passes, the aircraft could not be coaxed back across the English Channel. Bill and his two gunners perished as their A-20 Havoc crashed into the sea. He was the first member of the West Point class of June 1943 to be killed in action -- the “First to Fall”. His body was never recovered, but his spirit lives on through the metaphysical power of an amazing artifact. After 60 years, the class ring of Bill Cramsie mysteriously appeared and prompted a major effort to learn and tell his story -- a story that can finally lay his spirit to rest. The story of Bill Cramsie is a story of triumph and tragedy, of honor and humility. It is also the story of an incredible journey in our own time, the author’s search for this young man, and the strangely metaphysical aspects that led to a spiritual bonding of the present with the past.