387th (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} 387th) wrote,@ 2009-08-09 03:09:00 |
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The 387th Bombardment group of the Eighth United States Army Air Force was among the best trained in the entire armed forces, and they knew it. From the earliest days of training, they worked as one, relied on one another, and when they finally landed on the 152nd air base in Willingale, in the county of Essex, England, their "hats were in the ring" - their test would begin on a Friday afternoon, June 25th, 1943. In the heat of the second World War, the base named Chipping-Ongar was right on the front lines. Southeast of London, the brave men would fly into France and Germany, dropping their bombs into the arsenals and railroad lines of the German army. Every day was a test of faith - putting their hopes into eachother, their pilots and bombardiers, their B-26 Marauder planes, and whatever fate had in store for them. In the face of such danger, their only escape from the danger on every side was themselves. Of course, the base was blessed with a welcoming, supportive rural English village only miles away. Schoolchildren "adopted" planes and waved a greeting upon their return from combat. The pub opened their doors, sometimes even offering free drinks and food for the servicemen so far from home. Budworth Hall held USO nights with loud, brassy music and beautiful girls to dance with. Even life on the base was more relaxed, at ease, perhaps from their confidence at fighting with such a highly trained unit, and maybe a bit of cockiness and comraderie. Chipping-Ongar worked as one supportive group; maybe just the slightest bit rowdy, but still respectful and reliable - and the fate of the war in Europe was partly in their hands. Of course, into each life, some rain must fall, and the men at Chipping-Ongar also had their fair share of tragedy. Friends, brothers, and partners were all lost in the fighting, or even accidents on base. In the face of danger and loss, they knew better than anyone that you only have your friends to fall back on, so far from home, and perhaps the setbacks brought them all closer. It's said that the first words spoken as the Group Commander stepped onto the ground after the cross-Atlantic voyage were "Where are the bombs? Let's go to war!" Is your hat in the ring? |
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