The Brits took me to a couple of U.S. locations before we found a place where they told us about the gathering point for downed airmen in Brussels: When I entered the large ballroom, of a hotel where I had been sent, there were nearly a hundred men in situations similar to mine. I was pleasantly surprised to find John Fox, my copilot, among them. He had not seen me exit the airplane and feared that I might have tried some heroics to save the plane, rather than jump. So we were glad to see each other safely on the ground. We were given a room in a nearby hotel where we stayed while we waited for a ride back to our base in England.

We each had our emergency escape kits that we always carried on missions. In addition to maps and some nutritious snacks it contained some money. There was a bit of a problem because the money was French francs, which we had to exchange for Belgian francs. The banks were not allowed to make the switch for American personnel, so we had to make an illegal deal with a guy on the street to make a black market type exchange for us. This did not provide us with a fair exchange rate, but did furnish enough cash for the short time we would be in Brussels. Having some funds we were at least able to drop into a pub or two and have dinner at a restaurant. At one place an itinerate photographer took a picture of John and me, and at another pub an "artist' drew a sketch of me.

By chance, we met a couple of others from our bomb group and they were already scheduled for a flight back to our base. Since they were returning prior to the time we could get back I asked them to be sure to advise the Operations Officer that they had seen us and that we should not, therefore, be listed as "Missing in Action". I was concerned that telegrams would be sent to our families with the MIA message. A day or two later we hitched a ride back aboard a B-24 Liberator Bomber. When we walked into the squadron room our names were listed on the blackboard as missing in action. We were told that telegrams were scheduled to be sent to our families the next day.

The rest of the crew had already arrived and it was good to learn that everyone survived the jump. The seven of them all landed in Belgium, and were taken to Laon, France, where they stayed in a chalet and enjoyed the local wine. One who could not swim had landed in a pond and his parachute caught a breeze pulling him to shore. Another gunner's chute caught in a tree and stopped his fall about a foot off the ground.

The base public relations people interviewed each of us and sent press releases to our hometown newspapers. One of the over zealous "reporters" was disappointed that none of us was "from a big city such as New York city or Chicago" because he thought our story would surely end up on page one of the Times or Tribune. We didn't think so.

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