[bobbysocks]

some quick blurbs from 357th pilots on the arnhem/market garden missions:

Tom Gates' encounter report: "After the last interception, which took us SW of DZ, Tackline advised nothing in view and we could patrol on our own. I dropped the group down to 13,000 and took up a course of 45 degrees back to the DZ. Over the DZ we saw a gaggle of 109s and 190s flying our reciprocal course to our right about 2,000 feet above. I turned the group right to intercept and called "Drop tanks," after clearing gliders underneath. By the time the tanks were off and climb started, the first gaggle of 190s was passing overhead and up into the sun. When it appeared that they would not turn and bounce us from out of the sun, I turned Dollar sqdn back head-on into the second bunch and the fight was on.

"The first bunch turned back but were intercepted by another sqdn. I picked six 109s. They broke left, then sharp right. I got on one but he spun out under me. Another was in the turn so I latched onto him. He was most aggressive, and after much maneuvering he straightened out and I got a short burst which knocked some parts from his ship. The second burst set him on fire and the third burst finished him. He dived in from 500 feet. My wingman was still with me and we climbed back to 10,000 feet. We saw five 109s flying close formation with a flight of P-51s bouncing them. One 109 split-essed out and went to the deck in aileron turns. The others turned into the bounce.

"I took after the one on the deck and let him have a burst from about 1,000 yards but no strikes seen. When he came to an airdrome he made a turn. I closed enough to see American markings on the upper surfaces of both wings and it was a P-51 painted the same as the 109s. There were no group markings on the nose. When I saw it was a P-51, to avoid light flak from the field I widened the turn and the P-51 leveled out and headed SE at full throttle. There is no doubt that it was flown by a German pilot."

Lt. Jerome Jacobs: "We were flying cover for the troop transports and gliders. It was a very impressive sight to see the large armada of aircraft towing one, two, or three gliders and stretching all the way from England to Holland. It was a very pleasant fall day and I was flying Colonel Graham's airplane. (P-51D 44-13388, B6-W, "Bodacious")

"Ground control gave us a course to follow that would intercept a large formation of unknown aircraft. In five or ten minutes we were in the middle of a large formation of Me-109s and FW-190s. I was flying wingman when my element leader caught up with a 109 and fired into it until its landing gear came down. Some flak began coming up and I saw the right wing come off my flight leader's aircraft. He bailed out and I saw his chute open.
"I was attacked by a 190 and we began to try to out-turn each other and after about two turns I was able to get a lead on him and gave him a quick burst. I could see hits on his cockpit and fuselage. He bailed out and I watched the 190 hit the ground. I turned off my gun switch and took some pictures of the wrecked airplane. As I cleared my tail I saw that a 109 was behind me and shooting. Instinctively I turned to the left and was able to get behind the 109 when he quit turning and headed south. I followed him and lined up my sight on his tail. I gave it a quick burst and saw smoke coming out of his engine. He slowed and I quickly overtook him. We were both at ground level and I saw him dodging some wires. I could not stay behind him unless I put my flaps and wheels down, and found myself flying formation with him. He was a young man about my age, and his ME looked brand new. Suddenly he tried to land wheels up in a field, but was going too fast. He bounced off the ground in a nose-high attitude, stalled, flipped over and his the ground. He slid along and plowed into a farmhouse, and everything blew up.
"I circled to get some pictures but the dust still hadn't settled after my second turnaround and I decided to get out of there and go home. On the way I stayed on the deck, worried about how much ammunition and fuel I had. I was heading north over some very attractive countryside, very satisfied with myself over my two victories when I saw two fighter planes headed toward me from the west. At first I couldn't decide whether to turn into them or make a run for it, as I wasn't certain about the ammunition aboard. However, at that moment one of the fighters lifted a wing and I could see a P-51 outline. I wiggled my wings and continued north, hopefully headed for England. Soon I saw the transports stretched across the horizon and followed them back home."

1st Lt. Howard Moebius: In the confusion of the dogfight, Moebius soon lost his leader, managed to outrun a FW-190, and obtain numerous strikes on its cockpit. He recalls:

"My plane had greatly decreased its speed because of the violent climbing and turning. I rolled out on the left wing of the 190 I had just shot. I was in very tight formation with him. I could see his cockpit burning and blood coming out of the pilot's mouth...it was a ghastly sight. Slowly his right wing came up, his ship nosed over and went into the ground. I looked around and could not see any more enemy in the area. I turned off my gun switch and made several passes at the wreckage with my camera on.
"I had just pulled up from my last pass when I looked over my shoulder and saw the big hub of a 190 right on my tail. I threw my throttle wide open and again my engine balked. (Moebius' engine had given trouble on takeoff but he continued rather than risk censure for aborting.) I had to throttle back to about 30 inches of mercury, and knew that I could not climb or maneuver. I had heard that the 190 at slow speeds and tight turns to the right has a tendency to snap under. SO I put my ship into a right turn to the right with my wing not more than 100 feet off the ground and proceeded to go round and round. The 190 hung on my tail with his guns blazing, but could not pull up tight enough for the proper lead. Several farmers and their wives were running around on the ground below us. I don't know if they were frightened or were waving, or whether they realized a lot of lead was being thrown around. At one point I put my hand to my head, as any minute I expected a shell to come into the cockpit. I also did some fast praying! Finally I looked back and he was gone. I leveled off and slowly climbed to 10,000 feet."
Climbing slowly, Moebius reached Brussels at 30,000 and made it home with no further problems. His crew chief worked all night to repair the sick engine in time for the mission on the 19th. For Moebius, it might have been better if he hadn't. Lt Howard Moebius shot down a 190 on the 18th , and two 109s on the 19th before being shot down beginning an adventurous five months with the Dutch underground.

Lt. Harvey Mace: "I was leading Dollar White Flight which was on the extreme left of our squadron, which was on the extreme right of the group. While scanning the sky, I finally spotted one or two bogies high in the fringes of the sun. With full attention I was soon able to see more--a lot more. Although they were too high to identify, they were not flying like friendlies, so I reported them to the group leader. His response was something like, "Well, OK, we'll climb up and take a look," and turned the group to the left and started climbing. This maneuver put me dead last in the climb. Before long, with a change in positions I was able to make out the whole group of bogies. It's too difficult to count under these conditions, but looking at the size of our group of about 50 planes, I estimated about three times that many bogies, or around 150.
"Soon one fighter peeled off and came down on our angle, about 500 or so feet above us. As it got closer I was able to identify it as an Me-109. Whether its intent was to scout and see what we were, or bait in hopes of breaking us up I'll never know. I marveled at the discipline of our group at not breaking up. Only later at home was my pride somewhat deflated when in asking some of the rest of the squadron about it, no one seemed to have seen it!
"At any rate, the 109 made positive identification of the big mass, as enemy fighters to me. The next thing that happened was two fighters came down head-on and firing--sort of at our group as a whole. This made retaliation an absolute necessity and someone near the lead took them on. In quick succession the Germans kept sending down small numbers at a time and those in the lead of our group were being engaged until finally the only ones left still climbing toward the main bunch (now down to about 100) were me and my wingman, Chuck Weaver. My element leader and his wingman were gone.
"At this point I was awestruck to note that the scene was just like the cover depictions of the big WW I air battles on such mags as 'Flying Aces,' etc. It was one big dogfight, fighters circling, twisting, going down in flames--the works. "Soon it was my turn, one lone 109 dropped down in front of me, out of range but weaving enticingly while two shooters dropped down above me. The plan, I'm sure, was for me to nose down after the one while the two shooters would get on our tail and finish us off. But I would not have any part of it,; my mind was still on the main bunch and I continued climbing. With this the bait weaved back and forth ever closer in what I'm sure he thought was a tempting manner. At the same time the two shooters were ever more attentive and somewhere along there I could no longer keep track of the main bunch. I started climbing straight at the two shooters, and from here on I never saw the main bunch again.
"Finally the bait 109 weaved so close that he was a threat. At this point I decided I could have to quickly drop my nose, shoot him down, and quickly resume the climb at the two shooters to keep them in check. I could no longer keep track of Chuck so had no idea what he was up to. The main dogfight had dissipated and they had all disappeared. I confidently dropped my nose when the bait was at a nice 90 degree deflection, fired a burst and quickly resumed the climb before the shots even got to him.
Well, it was a clean miss and all it did was arouse his competitive spirit, and he broke into me in a vicious attack. All planning on my part was out the window. I countered and managed to gain the upper hand in the dogfight that followed. But between the wild maneuvering and the stupid gunsight I couldn't get a clean hit. (Like some other original 357th pilots, Mace did not like the new K-14 computing sight.)
"I was able, through it all, to keep an eye on the two shooters above and where they seemed somewhat confused and tentative at first, they were beginning to act increasingly agitated and with my frustration at not being able to get a clean hit, I felt my situation was getting desperate. I finally decided to close on the guy and chew his tail off with my prop. "On the next pass and firing my guns, I closed to the point where a collision didn't look avoidable even if we both tried. As the impact drew near I ducked low to get behind the engine in case I bit off more than his tail. The moment passed and no collision. I couldn't believe it! When I raised up and cranked around to continue the pursuit, he was in his chute. I did not see any good hits and thought I just scared him out. Chuck Weaver told me later that he had stayed with me until near the end of the fight when he stalled and spun out. Upon his recovery, he pulled up in time to see the German bail out and fired a burst 'sort of in his direction.' I didn't hear that or repeat it, since shooting at parachutes was a no-no.
"I had lost Chuck by this time, and re-established my climb after the two shooters who were still rocking back and forth watching me, but seemed unsure what to do. I kept scanning the sky to make sure I didn't get bounced, and on one scan I spotted two fighters closing fast on my tail--I was climbing hard at only about 170 indicated. I looked up again and the two shooters were gone, but I could not figure how they got so far behind me. Few, if any, airplanes can turn with a P-51 at 400 mph so I dropped my nose and poured on the coal hoping to get near that speed before they got me in range. "Looking at them occasionally from the corner, I had to wait for just the right time to break. Too soon and they cut you off and gotcha. Too late and they fire and gotcha anyway. Finally, after what seemed like hours (I'm sure it was only seconds) the moment arrived and I whipped around into a head-sagging maximum 360 degree turn. About halfway round, someone on the radio said, 'Where'd he go, was he a 109?' I leveled out on the tail of two '51s which turned out to be two of our newer replacements. I answered, 'No, I'm not a 109 and since I'm on your tail you should be glad of that.'