Al Sander's Escape

May 28th, 1944. Exactly forty years ago. The weather is particularly fine on this Whit Sunday afternoon. In Henripont, a small Belgian village, many are those who are chatting among neighbors in the garden or on the doorsteps. It is so mild that one could forget that there is a war on. The Allies are scoring major successes against nazi Germany: The Soviet troops are progressing in the East, and the Anglo-Americans are doing the same in Italy. Nevertheless, the long-awaited landing in the West has not taken place yet.

In occupied Belgium, many fear that the war might drag on, in spite of the fact that the American and English bombers are stepping up their attacks against Germany: the Americans by day, and the English under the cover of darkness. Night and day, for many hours at a stretch, one can hear a non-stop drone: allied bombers heading for or coming back from their targets in Germany. When the sky is cloudless, there are hundreds of contrails at high altitude. On the whole, most Belgians are confident that Germany will have to capitulate soon.

Suddenly, all conversations stop, and all turn their eyes towards the sky: a four-engined bomber is in trouble. The white stars are clearly visible: it is an American Liberator. One of the engines is on fire, and the plane is losing height. An airman bales out of the stricken aircraft, and his parachute opens after a few agonizing seconds.

The bomber slowly turns to the right and goes into a dive. It crashes and bursts into flames at the edge of the Bois de la Houssiere in Charly-des-Bois (Ronquieres). The pilot, Second Lieutenant Alfred Sanders, has been the last to abandon the plane. A few minutes before, he had ordered the other nine crew members to jump. Dangling from his parachute, he sees flames and black smoke billowing from the impact point. In a few moments, he is going to make a hard landing on Belgian soil. It is the starting point of an extraordinary adventure.

8th AIR FORCE.

Born at Kentwood, Louisiana, in 1918, Alfred Sanders is 24 when he gets his B. S. degree in education from the Louisiana State University in June 1942. He also leaves LSU with a pilot's license and joins the U. S. Army Air Corps in October. Some time later, he is selected to fly the famous B-24 heavy bomber. The Liberator is a very tricky plane, and learning to pilot it properly requires many months of intensive training. Sanders eventually reaches Davis Monthan AAB, not very far away from Tucson, Arizona, where he meets the other nine crew members of his brand new B-24H Liberator.

They are Fred Morlay (co-pilot), Thomas Zoeblein (navigator), Daniel O'Connell (bombardier), John Lawrence (radio-operator) and William Kozulak, James Sizemore, Autley Smith, Louis Lujan and Robert Swaffield (gunners). They are all very young and come from different states: Louisiana, Ohio, Michigan, Illinois, California, and New York. From now on, they are going to fly together. In February 1944, the crew is considered as being operational.

While waiting for the official announcement of their posting, they discuss the respective advantages and disadvantages of having to face the Germans or the Japanese. Their wait is a short one: Sanders and his crew are going to join the 8th Air Force in Europe (832nd Squadron, 486th Bomber Group, 3rd Division). It means that they will be in England very soon.

They will ferry their mount from the United States to Britain. The serial number of Sanders' Liberator is 42-52764. Like all B-24s of the group, it is painted olive drab. A white square painted on the ship’s vertical stabilizer signifies the 3^rd Air Division, and in it a black letter "O" to denote the 486^th Heavy Bombardment Group. On the fuselage, one can read "3R-K" painted gray. The code "3R" means that the bomber belongs to the 832nd Squadron, whereas the "K" is the individual letter of the plane. The plane letter ID and serial number are also painted in yellow on the vertical stabilizer. Of course, each B-24 also has a personal badge. That which has been painted under the cockpit of Sanders' Liberator clearly betrays his attachment to the Louisiana State University. It is the head of a roaring Bengal tiger, with the legend: "Mike, Spirit of LSU". In 1944, Mike was the fearsome mascot of the university.

The 486th Bomber Group leaves Tucson on March 5th, 1944. The ferry flight to Europe is a long one: more than two weeks. The Liberators first land in Harrington, Kansas then on to West Palm Beach, Florida. From there they go on through Borinquin, Puerto Rico, Belem, Brazil, Dakar, Senegal, Marrakech, Morocco, and Prestwick, Scotland. A few days later, the B-24s finally reach their operational base: Sudbury (Base 174) in Suffolk.

Before taking part in their first raid against the enemy, all crews are to go through one more training session to get accustomed to the weather conditions generally prevailing in Europe, and that are very different from those encountered in Arizona, to say the least.

The operations against the enemy begin on May 7th, 1944. Between May 8th and 28th, Sanders and his crew take part in four raids, without facing major problems. The fifth one will be very different indeed.

SUDBURY, WHIT SUNDAY 1944.

On the American base, it is definitely business as usual. All crews selected for the raid get up at 5 A.M. After a quick breakfast, all those involved in the mission fetch their gear: flying boots, leather jacket, Mae West, oxygen mask, parachute, etc., while engineers are busy checking all engines and instruments and the tanks are being topped up. Armorers fuse and load bombs in the bays, others feed the .50 machine guns with long ammunition belts.

The crews that are going to take part in the attack have now gathered in the briefing room. The atmosphere is very tense, as usual. What target is the group going to bomb today? Will it be a "milk run" over Belgium or France, or a definitely more dangerous operation against heavily defended industrial installations in Germany? Everyone keeps silent for a few seconds after the Operation Officer's announcement: today's target is the Wintershall, A.G., (see note (1) below) a synthetic oil refinery in Lützkendorf, a few miles away from Leipzig. It is bad news.

This sort of raid has nothing to do with a "milk run". The target is a very distant one, and the mission is going to last eight hours at least. As all synthetic oil refineries are absolutely vital for the German war effort, they are defended by hundreds of AA guns. The Wintershall, A.G., has already been bombed a number of times, but production has not come to a halt yet. The Germans know that the USAAC bombers are going to finish off the job and are bracing themselves for the next raid. Those who are going to take part in it know that too.

The briefing goes on: flight plan, radio frequencies, weather forecast, etc. The weather conditions in the target area will be good: 0 to 2/10 cumulus. Base: 3000 ft. Tops: 5000 ft. Unrestricted visibility above that altitude.

The 486th and 487th Bomber Groups are to join a bigger formation before heading for Germany. For some mysterious reason, zero hour is moved up one hour (from 0900 to 1000), making take off one hour later than briefed. Everyone is getting increasingly nervous. Three of the 26 planes belonging to the 486th group are not going to take off at all. There is an ill crew member aboard A/C 506, and A/C 644 and 768 have supercharger problems. Sanders' aircraft is A/C 682.

All 23 Liberators take off between 1000 and 1018 and get in formation. They carry the maximum bomb load and all tanks are full. It takes some time before reaching the cruising altitude. The "Spirit of LSU" flies in the number two position of the "low" squadron inside the group. Assembly is completed at 1130. The formation then starts climbing and, at 1222, falls in behind the lead 487th group, which then makes a wide essing turn to get behind the 93rd Wing. The English coast is crossed going out, above Great Yarmouth, at 1244, one minute early.

The Liberators have now been flying for more than three hours. The fighter escort is there, but everyone knows that there will be nothing to do against the deadly accurate 88-mm guns of the German FLAK (see note (2) below). The pilots must stay in formation without deviating and grit their teeth as they approach the barrage of big black puffs of smoke.

IN THE RINGSIDE SEATS.

Aboard the "Spirit of LSU", everything is all right. Flak was encountered when crossing the Dutch coast, but no plane was hit. It is quite obvious that the incoming bomber formation has been spotted for a long time now, but there are no German fighters in the sky. This seems to prove that the attacks against the oil refineries are increasingly effective, and that the Luftwaffe is lacking gas.

The flight plan is strictly adhered to, and all CPs crossed over in due time. The IP on the outgoing leg is Bad Frankenhausen, a few miles away from Lützkendorf. It is the starting point of the bomb run. While approaching the target, all crews notice that they will have to fly through a wall of explosions.

Suddenly, the plane of Lieutenant Hicks (A/C 345) is hit by an 88mm explosive shell and immediately goes into a dive. In their reports, most witnesses later said that they saw 6-8 parachutes (see note (3) below). Hicks was the leader of Sanders' squadron, and his loss just a few miles away from Lützkendorf is a very severe one, as the other ships of the squadron would drop on his bombardier’s cue. The deputy leader takes over while on the bomb run but, due to the confusion of the switch and clouds of smoke being over the target, he does not drop his bombs. He intends to bomb the secondary target on the home leg.

Alfred Sanders' Liberator is hit a few moments after Hicks’ as it was flying in position number two, in the high element of the low squadron, close to the leader, it may have been hit by the same anti-aircraft battery. Engine number three starts smoking and burning, but the fire extinguishers are activated and the propeller feathered. Sanders orders O'Connell, his bombardier, to drop the bombs into the smoke of the burning refinery. By doing so, he simply obeys the orders: when one of the engines has to be shut down, all stores should be jettisoned.

The bomber formation has turned to the right to cross over the first CP on the return leg. All crew members aboard Sanders' B-24 are safe, but the situation is a very critical one. It is not impossible to fly back to England on three engines, but Sudbury is decidedly too far away. There is no question of slowing down the formation, nor of having the escort slowdown, for his benefit alone. The mission goes on, and it’s just too bad for the unlucky ones.

THE LONG WAY BACK.

For the pilot of the "Spirit of LSU", one of the best things to do is to try and keep the formation in sight, but he realizes that it will be extremely difficult to do so. He also notices that engine number four starts misfiring and soon understands why: the fuel lines feeding the starboard engines were must probably damaged when the plane was hit. This deduction is confirmed by the indications of the fuel gauges. Sanders shuts off the engine and feathers its propeller.

The situation is now much worse than before, as a Liberator cannot fly indefinitely on two engines. As it is vital not to lose too much height, both port engines are driven very hard, but start overheating as a consequence. The aircraft is losing height slowly but steadily, and has become extremely difficult to fly: the engines that are still running are on the same wing!

Zoeblein, the navigator, reckons that the fuel which is left in the tanks will be insufficient to reach England. As it is becoming increasingly obvious that the engines are not going to hold out much longer, Sanders orders his crew to get ready to bale out. Fortunately, the plane is now flying above Belgium, somewhere to the south of Liege. It sends a last message, a Mayday call giving its position: 5017 N - 0530 E. A few minutes later, with a heavy heart, Sanders orders his crew to abandon the plane. There is no time to lose as it is starting to burn.

AMERICANS IN THE SKY.

The first who bale out are Zoeblein and O'Connell, followed by Smith and Sizemore. The first two land in Frasnes-les-Gosselies, and the others in Ubaix and Reves. All four are lucky taken in charge and brought to safety by members of the Belgian White Army. The Germans will never succeed in locating and arresting them. They are even going to write a few 1etters to each other before being liberated by the advancing Anglo-Americans in September 1944.

Morley, Lawrence, Kozulak, Swaffield and Lujan's fate is totally different. They are arrested, either by German soldiers in Petit-Roeulx-lez-Nivelles (Morley and Lawrence) or by traitors guarding the locks along the canal linking Brussels with Charleroi, in Feluy and Arquennes (Kozulak, Swaffield and Lujan). For them, the war is finished. They are transferred to a prisoner of war camp somewhere in Germany, where they are going to wait until their liberation in May 1945.

Sanders, the captain, is the last to bale out. He has managed to control his stricken "Spirit of LSU" so that the others could jump safely, but it is now high time for him to do likewise. He waits a few seconds before pulling the rip cord of his parachute, and sees his plane crash about one mile away. His major problem now is to avoid coming down among the high branches of the hundred year-old beeches of the Bois de la Houssiere. He succeeds in doing so, but sprains his ankle when hitting the ground. He is far from suspecting that, one hour later, he will be introduced to 17 Russian soldiers!

THE WHITE ARMY STEPS IN.

The American bomber and its pilot do not go unnoticed. Among those who witness Alfred Sanders' quite unexpected arrival of Melchior Resteau, who owns a country cottage in the village. As soon as he notices the parachute, he jumps on his bicycle and starts pedaling towards the landing point. The Germans and their accomplices are not far away, and the airman must be brought to safety before their arrival. A few seconds after the pilot has gotten rid of his cumbersome parachute, he is given a bicycle by one of the people who are there, and follows Resteau whose intention is to find some temporary hiding place for his new protégé.

Pedaling with a sprained ankle along a dirt track is no easy task, but it is useless and even dangerous to go too far. Hesteau tells Sanders to hide in a corn field and to wait for him. It is 1630. The field lies along a narrow country road leading from Henripont to Ecaussinnes, some 600 yards away from the local church.

The Belgian Underground already knows that there is an American pilot to rescue. In spite of repeated enquiries, it has not been possible to find the name of the person who knew where and how to contact the White Army. Emile Boucher, Lucien Terrier and Gilbert Courtecuisse are having a drink at a pub called "Le Rallye", along the road between Braine-le-Comte and Hennuyeres. As soon as they are told, by telephone, that an aircraft has crashed, they rush to Henripont in the van of a local fishmonger called Dortant and find Mr Hesteau a few hundred yards away from the place where he has just left Sanders. The American pilot is driven to the garage of Omer Waneukem, in Braine-le-Comte. During the short trip, he removes his flying suit and boots and is given civilian clothes. Omer Waneukem offers him a glass of wine, as well as a belt, because his new trousers are definitely outsized. Some time later, Sanders is driven to an isolated abandoned farm in Hoves. He is most surprised to be introduced to its unexpected occupants: 17 Russians who have deserted the German Wehrmacht. On the American bases in England, it is debriefing time.

THE END OF THE RAID.

As soon as Sanders' Liberator is damaged by the flak, it proves unable to remain in formation. It steadily drops behind but remains in sight for a long time because visibility is excellent. Unfortunately, nobody can do anything to help the plane and its crew.

As many planes of the group have not dropped their bombs on Lützkendorf, they are preparing to do so on the secondary target. While initiating the bomb run, the leader of the formation spots another group of Liberators not far away, and elects to turn to the left in order to avoid any danger of collision. The report dated May 29th, 1944 (486th Bombardment Group) states:

"When the turn at the IP was made, another force of B-24s was sighted between our formation and the target, preventing a complete run on the secondary. The formation then turned left and passed to the left of Koblenz."

This means that the bombs were dropped somewhere else above Germany on the return leg. The same report states:

“Fighter coverage was excellent at all times, although no enemy fighters were seen."

The Belgian coast is crossed at 1717. The formation then starts letting down, flying a direct course for home base, because of gas shortage. The English coast is crossed at 1740, with the formation still letting down. They are over the Sudbury Air Base at 1746, with the first ship landing at 1750 and the last at 1808; more than 8 hours after take off.

Two of the ten B-24s of the 832nd Squadron (486th Group) are missing: those of Hicks and Sanders. It is a heavy loss. The other eight Liberators are going to take part in another raid on the next day. The target is another synthetic oil refinery in Politz, not far away from Leipzig. The war goes on.

As soon as the reconnaissance plane sent to Lützkendorf to photograph the burning plant is back, specialists start studying the photos to assess the destruction caused by the raid. Their verdict: average to good. To put it plainly, the American bombers will have to go back once more.

BATON ROUGE, LOUISIANA.

While waiting for her husband's homecoming, Mildred Sanders is living at her parents' in Baton Rouge. On May 30th, she gives birth to a son. The happy news is sent to England, but she does not know that it will not reach Alfred until a few months later.

In Baton Rouge as anywhere else, the announcement of the landing in Normandy on June 6th is welcomed with relief. Everybody believes that the war is coming to an end. For Alfred Sanders’ family and friends, the joy of the announcement is short lived. On June 9th, Mildred receives the terse telegram she had hoped never to be sent:

"The Secretary of War desires me to express his deep regret that your husband, Second Lieutenant Alfred M L Sanders, has been reported missing in action since May 28th over Germany. If further details or information are received, you will be promptly notified.

The Adjutant General."

For Mildred, it is the beginning of a very trying wait. Lots of people send her letters of sympathy after reading the news in the local newspapers. All are looking forward to having good news from Lieutenant Sanders, and trust it will come through soon. Among them are the Governor of the State of Louisiana, and the President of the Louisiana State University.

Webmaster’s Note: The above narrative was written by an unknown author. He fails to tell the “rest of the story”.

ESCAPE

Alfred Sanders was safely in the hands of the underground, but was betrayed by a traitor. Sanders was taken to a GESTAPO prison in Brussels for interrogation. In the fall of 1944, the GESTAPO was in retreat to Germany before the allies entered Belgium. Their prisoners were loaded onto trains for transport. Their departure was delayed while the city of Brussels tried to negotiate the release of Belgian citizens. Negotiations broke down and the GESTAPO commander ordered the train to leave. During its transit the Belgian underground constantly harassed and delayed the trains progress. The train eventually became stuck on a sidling, and new negotiations began for the Belgian citizens. The Belgians were eventually released, but the foreign nationals, including PoWs, remained locked in the train cars. Eventually, those still being held captive on the train managed to break out. Alfred Sanders was once again a free man, and eventually returned to safety.

A.G. is the abbreviation for Aktiengesellschaft, which is the German equivalent of a Corporation (CO).

FLAK is the German acronym of the phrase FLieger Abwehr Kanon, which literally translates to “flyer defense artillery”, or figuratively as anti-aircraft artillery (AAA).

The Hicks crew perished when Hicks and his copilot ditched their ship in the channel. B24s were notorious for breaking up on water landings due to the high mounted wing, and long bomb bay.

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