2nd Lt. James Weiler - a story of the Silver bracelet

Discussion in 'Aviation' started by seesul, Jun 5, 2008.

  1. seesul

    seesul Active Member

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    Hello,

    Jimmy Weiler was a pilot of B-17G, 42-32048, shot down on Aug. 29,1944 and crashed few miles away from my born town.
    Last year, Jimmy´s nephew, Todd Weiler, visited us here to see the crash site and museums. In the meantime, Todd became a co-historian of 2ndBG assn.

    Here is a story of Jimmy´s silver bracelet...

    Second Lt. James A. Weiler of Burlington sat down to write his brother Joe a quick letter before hitting the sack. He and his crew had an important mission in the morning.

    In keeping with tight security, he didn't tell his brother where behind the Nazi lines the bombing raid was headed.

    "I see my share of war kid and don't ever think I don't. We'll compare notes when together and in a morbid mood sometime...," Weiler, 22, wrote. "All my lads are OK and still going strong. I intend getting them all back to the States just the way I brought them over."

    Weiler's intention to keep his crew safe was futile, and the letter was the last the pilot ever wrote.

    Weiler and nine of his crew of 10 were killed when the B-17 flying fortress they were in was hit by fire from a German fighter plane in the skies near Krhov, Czechoslovakia, a mere five minutes from their target.

    Ten aircraft - the entire 20th squadron plus three planes - with 100 airmen were shot down that day, Aug. 29, 1944, on mission 263. Forty-one of the men were killed and the rest were captured in what history would dub the Battle of the White Carpathian Mountains.

    Though not a World War II veteran himself, Todd Weiler is the assistant historian of the 2nd Bomb Group, an organization of veterans who flew missions in WW II. He grew up knowing his uncle Jim had bravely given his life in the war. But he had no idea that someday his uncle's story would draw him into hours of research, which would lead to a quest on the other side of the Atlantic.

    It is a silver bracelet engraved with James Weiler's name that is central to this story, which is mapped with twists and turns. The bracelet had been given to the young pilot to commemorate his graduation from Army Air Corps flight school in Pecos, Texas, in 1943.

    In the hours after the battle, as the wreckage was still smoldering, a Krhov resident, Anton Kasperek, found the bracelet.

    Kasperek tried to return it to the airman's family, but a language barrier with the Red Cross after the war foiled his efforts. Then the rise of the Soviet Union stalled his intentions, as it would have been dangerous for this Czech farmer to pursue the search through the U.S. military.

    In 1965, Kasperek gave the bracelet to an actor friend Miloslav Holub, who was headed to the Montreal World Film Festival, one step closer to the United States. He hoped the bracelet somehow would find its way to Weiler's family.

    Seated on the plane next to Holub was Marie Spelina, whose husband, Jozka, was a technical officer with an international civil aviation organization. Marie Spelina took the bracelet and gave it to her husband, who understood the importance of returning it to Weiler's family.

    Jozka Spelina took the bracelet to the U.S. consulate in Montreal, who advised him to contact the Pentagon. But his search got bogged down in red tape.

    "The Pentagon told him to contact the Air Force headquarters in Texas. He did, but he (James Weiler) wasn't in the Air Force - he was he was in the Army Air Corps," Todd Weiler explained.

    Jozka Spelina finally got a 22-year-old next-of-kin address for James Weiler's mother (Todd's grandmother), Nora, and wrote a letter to her.

    "Thanks to Burlington being a nice small town, the postman had the wherewithal to know that Nora Weiler was living at a different address, and Jozka's letter finally got to Nora in January of 1966," Todd Weiler said.

    The bracelet finally arrived back with the Weiler family, with the details of its discovery and journey.


    Source:
    Kenosha News Online
     

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  2. seesul

    seesul Active Member

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    And Here´s a story of John H. Adair, KIA the same day onboard of the James Weiler´s machine...

    My name is John Hiram Adair. I was born in a white frame house in Forreston, the youngest of five children, and the only son of Johnie and William Adair. We lived on a farm a few miles east of town on Bullard Hill, and were members of the Forreston Methodist Church.

    During the summers I helped out Dad on the farm. I went to school there in Forreston until my junior year, when my family moved over to Avalon. My friends from school call me Johnny, but my family calls me “Johnsy”.

    After graduating from Avalon High School, I went to Texas A&M College, where I joined the Army Reserve in December of ‘42. After one year in college, I was called to serve in June of ’43, and I reported for active duty in the Army Air Corps.

    My initial training was at Sheppard Air Field in Wichita Falls, and after that there was more training in Florida and then in Kingman, Arizona at the Aerial Gunnery School. Like a lot of the other “country boys”, I was trained as a gunner, because we were better shots than those city boys. We did a lot of shooting at moving targets to hone our air-to-air firing skills.

    In May of ’44, it was on to Iowa at the Sioux City Army Air Base for combat crew training. When we arrived, they welcomed us with a band. Guess they thought that we needed a pepper-upper since we’re fixing to go over in a couple of months.

    I’ve been assigned to heavy bombardment and will be flying on a B-17 fortress. I’m with a good bunch of fellows and like them all fine so far. In my crew, we have four from Pennsylvania, one from Virginia, one from Massachusetts, one from Georgia, one from Wyoming, and the navigator is not with us yet. I hope he is from Texas.

    At first I thought that I’d be the right waist gunner, but later I found out that I would have to take the tail guns. Being the tail-gunner was pretty rough. Known by some as “Tail End Charlie”, it was a difficult spot. It was a tight little space, with lots of vibration, noise, cold, flying for hours down on your knees, with your legs doubled under you, and looking out through my small plexiglas box window.

    Before takeoff, all the gunners would gather in the radio room and then after we were airborne, we would make our way to our stations. As the tail-gunner, I had to crawl past the tail wheel, dragging my parachute behind me, and crawl on hands and knees into the tail. Once we made it up to altitude, I had to plug in my electric flight suit to keep from freezing. This was no place for someone with claustrophobia.

    One Sunday evening as I was leaving the mess hall, I looked up just in time to see my good friend from home, James King, walking past. We went to the PX and had a long visit. I hadn’t seen him in 14 months, and it sure does a lot of good to meet someone that you used to run around with.

    This Iowa countryside is some beautiful land for farming. The land is real black and these farmers have a corn patch for every cotton patch that we have back home. They have the nicest homes and more big barns and outhouses than Carter has liver pills.

    I was supposed to make Corporal on the 15th of June, but it didn’t come through. My pilot messed up the paperwork. I sure could use the extra pay, it will be $28 a month more.

    On the 20th of June, we went on a high altitude gunnery mission over Rapid City, South Dakota, and I got sick as a horse. Riding the tail is certainly no picnic. I would much rather be a waist gunner.

    I wrote to my folks and my sisters at every opportunity and very much anticipated all their letters from home. We were due a furlough before we had to go overseas, and I really looked forward to the chance to visit home once more after all this time living in crowded barracks. My leave finally came at the last of July, but it flew by before I knew it.

    The first week of August our group received our orders and headed out for Europe. It was a long journey with many stops along the way. Once I was locking the tail wheel and I inserted the crank too soon, and got a real blow on the chin. It bled a good bit, but an inch higher and it would have knocked out all my front teeth. Don’t think that it will leave a scar though.

    Along the way, we spent some time in the far Northeast. On August 9th we went swimming in one of the lakes up there and the water was really cold. We even did a little fishing and caught some small trout. I’ll bet that there are a lot of lakes up there that have never even had a hook in them. It would have been swell if we could have stayed there a little longer.

    By this time I had made Sergeant, and was drawing base pay, flying pay and a per diem for being away from my home base. I could take a lot of days like this at $10.30 a day, and I don’t care how long I’m gone at this kind of money.

    After several days of hard flying we finally arrived at the Amendola Airfield near Foggia, Italy. We were now part of the 2nd Bomb Squadron, 2nd Bomb Group of the 15th Army Air Force.

    It was pretty good here, enough to get by on anyway. I live in a tent with six other boys on my crew. We can fix it up in time so it’ll be pretty nice. The food is much better than I expected, in fact it’s better than lots of places that I trained in the States.

    One day I went swimming in the Adriatic Sea, and I am getting a rather nice tan here on the east coast of Italy. We visited Foggia one day and its just awful, all the filth as such I’ve never seen before. Those people don’t have enough to eat either.

    It was now the 19th of August and I haven’t been sent on a raid yet, but it won’t be long now from what I hear. We all looked forward to mail call more than anything else. Mail means a lot over here.

    To my disappointment, my crew was split up as replacements for the other crews in the squadron. Oh well, I have no choice to make the best of the situation.

    And then August 22nd came my first mission. I was flying tail-gunner aboard the “Tail End Charlie” on a mission to Odertal Oil Refinery in Germany. The pilot was Charles Beecham, and I didn’t get to know most of the other guy’s names... I had a real case of the butterflies.

    It was an 8-hour mission. There were no fighters in sight, but there was lots of flak over the target. The other guys said that it was only moderate flak, but it sure seemed bad to me... We hit the target real good.

    My 2nd mission came the very next morning aboard the “Lovely Lady” piloted by Lt. L. D. Campbell. The target that day was an industrial area at Vienna, Austria. This time there were German fighters making attacks through our formation. I’m not sure I hit anything though. At 400 mph, they were a lot harder to hit than the targets we shot at back in Arizona.

    I had been told, and today I saw firsthand, that those German fighters really came after us tail-gunners. They knew that if they got the tail-gunner that our B-17s were just a sitting duck. I don’t recall ever having the jitters so bad in my life.

    On the 24th I went up again, for the third day in a row, this time flying with 2nd Lt. Thayne Thomas on the “Big Time”. The mission that day took us to the oil refineries at Pardubice, Czechoslovakia. It was a long, long haul, and I saw a B-17 that had fallen behind the group get shot down by fighters.

    The next four days I was off and spent a lot of time in the sack, as I was fairly worn out. I felt as though I was getting into the groove of this and doing a little better each time, but still it takes some getting used to with people up there shooting at me for three days in a row.
     

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  3. seesul

    seesul Active Member

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    On August 29th we were rousted out of bed at about 0330 hours. I stumbled over to the mess hall, but I can tell you that powdered eggs before 4 A.M. are not that appetizing. At the mission briefing we learned that our target for today was the Privoser Oil Refinery and the railroad marshaling yards at Moravska Ostrava in northern Czechoslovakia. Today I would be flying with 2nd Lt. James Weiler on board the “Queen”, but today I would be the right waist gunner and that was OK by me.

    Finally, I wouldn’t be back in the tail all by myself, and I quickly made friends with the left waist gunner. His name is Loren Byam, and he is from Wisconsin. I overheard some of the other guys say that today would be a milk run... Hope they are right.

    A few minutes before 0600 hours we started our engines, and at 0614 the lead plane started rolling down the runway. All the others followed in thirty second intervals. As we climbed, we formed our seven planes into squadron formation and then the four squadrons maneuvered into a box formation, which provided the best defensive cover. These twenty-eight B-17’s made up the 2nd Bomb Group.

    By the time all the different groups of the 15th Air Force fell into line, there were 599 heavy bombers and 294 fighters on this mission. My group was flying tail end of the whole wing, and my squadron, the 20th, was flying tail end squadron in our group, so there we were, right at the very back of this whole combat wing.

    We headed north over the Adriatic Sea and had some cheese and crackers before gaining too much altitude when we had to put our oxygen masks on. Gradually we climbed to 28,000 feet. Our flight path took us over Yugoslavia and Hungary, and all was going well.

    During the long flight our formation had stretched out considerably. Our group was lagging behind the others, and for some reason our squadron could never catch up with the rest of the 2nd Bomb Group and get into proper formation. On top of that, all of our fighters had gone ahead to clear out the air over the target.

    Our radioman had put Axis Sally on the intercom to listen to her music program. Then she broke in over the music and said “Good Morning to you men of the 2nd Bomb Group. Today’s your lucky day. Today you get shot down, but before you get shot down, I want to play you a song.” It was called Franklin D. Roosevelt Jones. After hearing that, you could have knocked me over with a feather.

    Just as we approached the I.P. (initial point) of our bomb run, the pilot called back for us to test our guns and put on our flak jackets and helmets. It was about then that we spotted a lone German fighter following us at a distance. He wasn’t moving in, he was a spotter... We were being dogged!

    At about 10:40 we were over the White Carpathian Mountains and flying at 22,000 feet. And then it started... Out from behind a cloud formation came wave after wave of German fighters, at 4 o’clock high. They were ME-109’s and FW-190’s, and their wings winking at me, was my first realization that we were being shot at.

    All of the sudden there were tracers flying right past us, and wild chatter on the intercom. As I started to fire back, I saw “My Baby” on fire and start to go down in a flat spin. Fighters went screaming right past us. Then “Tail End Charlie” rolled over and exploded in a giant ball of fire.

    I fired back at them the best I could... There were just too many. Must be 80 or 90 of them all around us! They came at us from every conceivable direction.

    Shellfire started to explode all inside the plane. They were shooting 20mm cannons at us, and holes appeared in our wings and in our fuselage. A fire started on the wing! Our bomb bay doors swung open and the bombs were jettisoned.

    Control cables started snapping all around me! I was hit and went down! Our plane started down on a leftward spiral. The intercom was dead. Acrid, thick smoke filled the inside and the plane shuddered and shook as she took more hits.

    We started into a steep dive, and I had to grab on to something to keep from sliding forward. Maybe the pilot is diving us to put the fire out...

    Our plane plunged down through the clouds picking up speed. Our co-pilot was the only one that was physically able to bail out before we hit.

    It was a Tuesday, the 29th, and I was only 20 years old.
    Our 20th squadron was wiped out that morning, all seven planes.

    Remember us, for we were soldiers once, and young.

    *The bodies of 28 American flyers were gathered and taken to the cemetery in the small town of Slavicin, Czechoslovakia and buried in a mass grave. Although their bodies were removed after the war by the U. S. Army, the local Czech people, who viewed these men as liberators, still hold a memorial service at the site every year on Aug. 29th. The monument that they have erected to the American flyers ends with this verse, “And their ashes have returned to where it came from, and their soul has returned to the Lord who gave it to them”.


    Source: copy of the article printed out in Waxahachie Daily Light last year. Waxahachie is close to Dallas, TX.
     
  4. seesul

    seesul Active Member

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    ...and the German fighter that got Weiler´s machine down posing over the wreckage at the crash site.
    We all have been searching for his name for many years but he´s still unknown for us...
    The Czech man that toke this picture passed away and his son doesn´t know anything about it...
     

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  5. v2

    v2 Well-Known Member

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    Intersting story, thx seesul!
     
  6. Njaco

    Njaco The Pop-Tart Whisperer
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    Thanks Seesul! :salute:
     
  7. seesul

    seesul Active Member

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    You´re welcome!
    There´s a member on this forum nicknamed ''Holcicka''. She lives in USA and her father in law used to lived in Bojkovice, Czech Republic, few miles away from the crash site and few miles away from my born town. He saw as a boy this B-17 falling down in flames and then German guards transporting the first pilot, the only survivor, to the garrison in Slavicin, my born town. This man (Holcicka´s father in law) escaped to USA in 50´s and his son got married 'Holcicka'. I´m in touch with her. Holcicka´s husband is on trip in Czech Republic actually and we will meet in 3 weeks as he wants to see our museums and some of the crash sites...
    Holcicka found me on this forum...the world is small8), wha cha think?
     
  8. seesul

    seesul Active Member

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    Newspaper Article (Possible Burlington Standard published July 1945?) (Corrected to technical accuracy by Todd N. Weiler 12/17/07. Fixes number of planes lost and number of missions.)

    Death of Lt., James Weiler Established

    Co-Pilot Tells of Shell Entering Cabin of Bomber Over Czecho Slovakia

    The year of suppressed hopes, that their son, Lt. James Weiler, might be alive were crushed for Dr. and Mrs. J. G. Weiler last Friday when they received a telegram from the war department stating it has been officially established that he had been killed in a flight over Czecho Slovakia on August 29, 1944.

    Last September Dr. and Mrs. Weiler received word that. Jim Was missing in action while on his 13th mission. During the year they have gathered bits of information, none of them encouraging. and. all, hopes were dimmed as no word came as prison comps were liberated.

    It has now been established that only the co pilot escaped of the ten man crew that was in one of the worst fights on the Italian front. He was Flight Officer Owing Thompson of Poughkeepsie N. Y., who gave the following account of the action that day:

    “The 20th bombardment squadron of the second bomber group, based near Foggia in Italy, had been exceptionally fortunate until August 29, not losing a ship. On that date the 20th squadron was assigned to a formation of 28 bombers, briefed for a bombing mission to Moraska-Ostrava. They were to have a fighter escort part way and then near the target were to be met by another fighter escort. It never appeared.

    At 11:50 O'Clock about ten minutes before reaching their objective, the American bomber formation was attacked by about 100 German fighter planes. Frantic radio calls for the fighter escort which was to have appeared brought no response and the bombers were left to shoot it out alone. The German planes came in like a swarm of angry hornets and bomber after bomber was shot down, all 7 of 20th squadron and 2 other planes of the formation being lost. The American boys accounted for 40 of the German planes

    “Ball of Fire" was fourth in the formation and received much of the brunt the attack in its first stages . The “Ball of Fire” was badly hit in the bomb bays and in the wings Gasoline tanks in the wings caught fire and exploded. Flight Officer 'Thompson as co-pilot sat next to the pilot, Lt. Weiler, who was killed when a 20-mm shell entered the compartment and exploded. Thompson, although wounded in the leg, took over the controls and fought to keep the bomber in formation. Meanwhile the bombs had been dropped to lighten the load. Seeing that the fight was hopeless Thompson gave the alarm bell for the men In the. rear to bail out. The engines were on fire and all communications broken. The pilot, navigator and bombardier in the compartment with Thompson were dead and the flight engineer apparently so.

    The bomber was at high altitude and Thompson has little recollection of events until his parachute opened. He probably acted automatically to pull the rip cord. When he reached the ground he was_picked up by a couple of Czechs. He had a broken rib and a leg wound from shrapnel and found that he could not walk. He was taken prisoner and held by the Germans until released after the war."

    Lt. Weiler was 22 years old. He was employed in the Lockheed aircraft plant at Burbank, California, when he enlist enlisted in the air corps in July, 1942.

    He received his call to training on November 8, 1942 and received his primary at Santa Ana, Calif., his basic at Thunderbird, Arizona and his advanced at Marfa, Texas, where he received his silver wings and commission as lieutenant on October 1, 1943. We was then transferred to Roswell, New Mexico for special four engine bomber training and received his final combat training at Drew Field, Tampa, Florida, and Hunter Field, Savannah, Georgia.

    Lt. Weiler had, been awarded the Purple Heart, the Air Medal. with one oak leaf cluster for meritorious service while in combat with the enemy.

    Lt. Robert Ellis, who was a member of Jim's crew, when they flew overseas, wrote the following to Dr. and Mrs. Weiler, when he heard that Jim had been killed: "Jim's life was short, but it was magnificent. He was youthful strong, bubbling with energy, clean, wholesome, and above all Christian. He lived, fought for and died for the ideals he believed in. He was a good leader and a good pilot to the end. His end was no fault of his own. He holds a proud record, one which you and I will do well to imitate."

    A memorial mass will be read for Lt. Weiler at St. Mary church on August 29, the anniversary of his death.
     
  9. Njaco

    Njaco The Pop-Tart Whisperer
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    Great stuff!

    Another reason why this is the best forum.
     
  10. seesul

    seesul Active Member

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    no doubt my friend...
     
  11. seesul

    seesul Active Member

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    Just wanted to tell you Holcicka´s husband is going to visit us next weekend. Will send you some pics then...
     
  12. Karl Sitts

    Karl Sitts Member

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    Roman, Thank you for the story.It is a small world! Enjoy your visitor!
     
  13. seesul

    seesul Active Member

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    Yep, it really is! Thank you.
    BTW, when Todd Weiler (Jimmy´s nephew) was on visit here, he was looking for some eye witnesses of the crash here all around and found some...
    But he was pretty kicked out after he found out that one eye witness (Holcicka´s father in law) lives maybe 1 flight hour away from him...Todd lives in Milwaukee...what a chance...
     
  14. wilbur1

    wilbur1 Active Member

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    Great storys seesul what a find:D
     
  15. seesul

    seesul Active Member

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    few pics more...taken last year during Todd´s visit...
     

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  16. Njaco

    Njaco The Pop-Tart Whisperer
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    Thats an awesome looking monument! Its nice to see the kids there. I hope they understood.
     
  17. seesul

    seesul Active Member

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    I´m sure they understand. Ya know there was an iron curtain till 1989 in our country so only few infos available back then...it was forbiden to speak about Amies in the Soviet zone...that´s why we all and also the children are hungry for every kind of new information about our liberators now...
     
  18. seesul

    seesul Active Member

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    So Holcicka´s husband Omar Bartos visited me yesterday. Although we didn´t have enough time we visited crash sites in Krhov,Vyskovec,Rudice and Sanov and museums in Slavicin and Sanov.
    What a great time I had!
     

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  19. seesul

    seesul Active Member

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    description of the battle by Czech eye witnesses ...
    very sad and awful...
     

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  20. Maximowitz

    Maximowitz Active Member

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    That is quite remarkable and astonishing research Seesul. Brave men without doubt.
     
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