Journal Gazette from Mattoon, Illinois • Page 29

Tom 'Floyd iesis iiicKy to os alive arcer 1 i 7., i 8 BySIIARONIIARGIS Lifestyle Editor Even 50 years after the D-Day invasion of Normandy, Tom Floyd says he still feels lucky to be alive. On June 6, 1944, Staff Sgt. Floyd was a tailgunner serving with the 492nd Bomb Group, 2nd Air Division, 8th Air Force in North Pickenham, England. During his assignment from April to September 1944, Floyd flew 31 missions with his B-24 Liberator crew. The 492nd suffered the heaviest loss of any bomb group during Tom Floyd and other members of a B-24 Liberator crew are shown during World War II.

Floyd was a tailgunner serving with the 492nd Bomb Group, 2nd Air Division, 8th Air Force and was a part of the D-Day invasion. a tnree-momn period rrom May to August 1944. We lost 52 airplanes," Floyd said, as he sat surrounded by pictures and other memorabilia in the den of his rural Charleston home, His wife Margaret says he rarely talks about the war. He remembers it was cloudy the night before the invasion. "The weather wasn't as good as it could have been cloudy but .1 in i you could still see some stars.

There had been several false alarms so we weren't too excited when at about 9 p.m. they confined us to our barracks. Then at about 10 p.m. we were notified to report for a briefing at 10:30 p.m," Floyd recalled. By the time three of the four squadrons stationed at North Pickenham reported to their planes at 3 a.m., which was about an hour before daylight in England, Floyd said the excitement and fear were growing.

"At the same time, we were relieved to be getting it over. We knew that we had to get on the continent somehow and this day had been coming for several weeks. Before we took off we got a pep talk from Air Force General Doolittle and then I guess, we in my flight jacket after the mission was over." Floyd recalls one of the worst missions he flew was over the Baltic Sea to Poland. "We were flying with the 856th bomb group and for some reason one squadron fell behind. A group of 20 to 30 German twin-engine fighters with rockets and cannons came up behind them.

"It was the scariest day for me because in the tailgunner's position I saw the whole thing, and there was nothing I could do to help them. We were out after an oil refinery which supposedly was close to one of their research facilities. So they were especially vicious that day. It was a horrible sight, if you can imagine burning planes and fighters everywhere, men bailing out." Floyd said he later learned that not everyone died in the attack. Some survivors were picked up in.the Baltic Sea and some made it to Sweden.

On another mission, Floyd said his crew was again' lucky. "It was on June 20, deep into Germany, close to Poland. Of the 35 planes dispatched, only 25 reached the target. Ten were shot down on the way, 138 were killed in action and 14 were missing." After the war, Floyd, who describes himself as "just a farm boy from Bismarck," said he was "considerably more mature." Barely 20 in 1942, he had joined the Air Force Reserves to "learn how to fly, I was lucky to get in. You had to be a college graduate or pass an equivalent test.

After high school, I had been nated road intersections to slow the enemy's flow to the beach. "This time we could see the countryside and crowded road intersections with a railroad running alongside flooded with troops and vehicles headed toward the coast. We dropped our load and headed back to base," Floyd said. It was almost dark as they crossed the coastline and the squadron was fired upon from the ground, but they made it back to base tired and relieved that this mission was over. Floyd said his crew was lucky not a crewman was lost during their 3 1 missions although once the plane was so badly shot up they had to pitch everything out to lighten the load' and ditch it at a small airstrip.

"There were several times when other crews in our barracks didn't come back. They'd come around and gather up their things to send back home. I think it. was harder on us when we were on the ground than when we were flying. We were so busy in the air that we didn't have time to think about much," Floyd recalled.

Sitting in the tailgunner's position, Floyd said he got a bird's-eye view of the war. "It was kind of lonely back there. You're kind of wedged into a pretty small space, I couldn't really see what was going on I could only see where we had been. It was a little bit like being in a washtub with bullets ricocheting all around you." Floyd still wonders why some were hit and some were spared. "I feel very lucky to be alive.

There aren't many at our reunions because there weren't many survivors. I shot at my share of aircraft but I never claimed any myself. Once my turret got knocked out and I didn't know how close I came to getting hit until I found two bullet holes Harlan Cottingham today. traveled at speeds up to 400 mph, and had to be tracked with radar. The anti-aircraft guns had a range of 10 miles.

While he survived five years' military service without injury, his brother George was wounded in Germany in 1944 and died at a hospital in Belgium. Cottingham said he saw his first Nazi plane when the unit was training in Iceland. "It was a single plane flying over us in broad daylight," he saidWe were so scared that we couikiTDme close to hitting it. It was justaVeconnaissance plane, but that was the first one I saw." Cottingham's recollection of D-Day and the war is simple: "I wondered if I was ever going to get back home. It was pretty scary.

I'm glad I was part ofit but I never want to go through anything like it again." V. (V 1 The final assault begins Cottingham's anti-aircraft unit landed at Omaha Beach nostalgia at Normandy Tom Floyd were feeling really excited." At the same time, he continued, it was scary because there were so many planes taking off in bad conditions. Approximately 36 planes, each with 10 crew members, from Floyd's base joined 12,000 Allied and American aircraft, 5,000 ships and boats and more than 155,000 troops participating in the invasion. "Once we got up at about 15,000 feet over the English Channel we could see all the landing ships, gliders, paratroopers and big ships firing and converging on Omaha Beach," Floyd said, calling it an "interesting sight." His squadron of 12 planes, flying in formations of three or four, was carrying clusters of small bombs, he explained, "to be used primarily against the enemy lines before our troops landed. We dropped our bombs, we guessed, on the right targets and headed back to base to reload." No one fired against them because, Floyd said, everyone on the beach was firing against the ships and landing boats.

"We didn't see a German fighter that night we had total air dominance." His squadron's second mission was to dump 500 bombs at desig Harlan Cottingham during World War II. vation Corps and worked out of Havana, 111., before joining the Army. "I figured they were going to draft me, so I might as well enlist," he said. After completing basic training at Fort Sheridan near Chicago, he spent 17 months in Iceland and another year in England preparing for the allied assault on D-Day. His unit spent a lot of time in France and Belgium following D-Day trying to shoot down un-: manned Germany rockets.

"They were flying bombs," he said. "When they ran out of fuel, they crashed and exploded. We had to shoot them out of the air. If the Germans had perfected (controlling the rockets' destination), they would have done a lot of damage. You never knew where they were going to land." Cottingham said the rockets Army bureaucracy, Bert finally got permission from the chaplain and his company commander to wed.

They were married by The Rev. Cyril Hookway in the little Roman Catholic church at Westbury on Prym on May 14, 1944. "My mother opposed the match because she wasn't Italian," Bert confided over breakfast poolside on the liner QE2, which is taking more than 1,000 veterans and their families to the Nor-mandy anniversary. Eileen added that her aunt and friends in the Auxiliary Territorial Service predicted the union "would last se, ven months at best." Bert was given a four-day pass and, ignoring the doomsayers, the newlyweds checked into the Hotel Bristol. "The honeymoon lasted less than 24 hours," Eileen said, picking up the story." "The MPs pounded on the door in the middle of the night and pulled Bert out.

The D-Day curfew was on. All 11 By BILL LAIR Managing Editor The first time Harlan Cottingham's anti-aircraft unit saw a Nazi airplane, they were so nervous they could hardly fire their weapons. ButbytheendofWorldWarll, the 184th Triple A Gun Battalion was credited with more than 300 hits of German planes and rockets. Cottingham, a lifelong Charleston resident, carried ammunition for the anti-aircraft unit that landed at Omaha Beach on D-Day. "Our job was to protect the beachhead with anti-aircraft guns, to shoot enemy planes," Cottingham said.

"But we didn't have much to do that day. Their planes didn't fly much until that night." Cottingham's unit was one of the last to hit the beach, arriving the afternoon of June 6. But his unit saw plenty of action that night. "It was ju6t like watching a fireworks display," he said. There were tracers going all over the sky that night." The anti-aircraft unit did not stay long on the beach.

"We kept moving forward," he said. "We came across a dead German soldier lying behind a hedge. He still had his helmet on and his gun." the war, Cottingham forked at Mid-State Foundry for 20 years. Earlier, he had worked on a farm in the Charleston area, tjjhen joined the Civilian Conser- working as a welder in -never dreamed that I would even-. tually become an elementary education professor at Eastern Illir -j nois University," where he rei tired in 1984.

But the GI Bill, which Floyd calls "one of the greatest things" i to come out of the war, made hist education possible after his Air Force discharge in 1945. Floyd graduated from Southern Illinois v.1 University, Carbondale, where he met his future wife, Margaret' at a Christian Student Foundation meeting. They have four chil dren. During his military duty, Floyd earned several medals, in-'" eluding the Distinguished Flying Cross, an air medal with three oak leaf clusters, and a Good Con" duct Medal. "i Tears rain during the ceremonies.

In Paris, 38 American veter- ans of World War II who plan to parachute once again over Sainte-Mere-Eglise, the first' village liberated in France, arrived on aflightifromHoustorn Texas. The vets wore their jump gear: and were given red-carpet treatment to the sounds of a 40s-style jazz band before being received at Paris City Hall. More than 100,000 people, in-! eluding President Clinton and' other heads of state, are ex pected Monday in Normandy to fill the 50-mile chunk of coast-. line the Allies stormed. Busloads of veterans and their wives have arrived at hotels where big band music: wafted through the halls and glass display cases showed off T-shirts and other commemora: tive souvenirs.

Tourist pamphlets list at least a dozen and sometimes scores of events a day, including ceremonies, expositions, debates, concerts, ballroom dancing, parachute jumps and dis-, plays of war Big events include a sound-and-light show at Pegasus-Bridge, the first site taken on D-Day, and a 360-degree cinema opening in Arromanches, the A1t lied port built of pre-fab concrete blocks: "It's kind of a circus," saictt Barry Nichols, a 54-year-old warj buff and contractor from Sacramento, Calif. "But when it's over, you've got all that memorabiliarja w. Fighters Today we pay tribute to all those who have served to keep our country proud and free. In remembering their courage, their total commitment and their sacrifices, we strive to never forget the spirit of their heroic service. 1 from lightposts.

like tree-lamps at Christmas. Some shops are taking the occasion for shameless self-promotion, like the beauty parlor that hung a dummy paratrooper from the 66 There's a number of them who say that this is the last time they'll be back. 99 second-floor window, made up as a woman but with a mustache painted on. Veterans didn't seem to mind, taking it all in as a huge celebration. "I'm just very happy," beamed Henry Bourgeois, 76, of New Brunswick, Canada, carrying a chest full of medals as he strolled.

Traffic jams developed Thursday as vets, tourists, farmers and truckers competed for space on winding two-lane roads along a coast of rolling farmland. "The big party has already begun," said Christian Lyon, a French Interior Ministry official in charge of the region's security cPolf I i i ri i SALUTING and festive OMAHA BEACH, France (AP) Gray but standing proud, D-Day veterans are pouring into Normandy for a final bittersweet assault, laying wreaths for comrades and engaging in some festive nostalgia. Their tears mixing with the rain, Lloyd Bailey and other vets set the ring of yellow and orange flowers Thursday at the tomb of the unknown soldier at the American cemetery overlooking Omaha Beach, D-Day's bloodiest battle site. "There's a number of them who say that this is the last time they'll be back," said Bailey, 71, a retired diesel parts distributor from Jeffersonville, Ind. "Of course, anyone who is here will try to come back, but a lot of people have health problems." Solemn ceremonies are planned throughout Normandy this week and in the days after the 50th anniversary of the Allied invasion on June 6, 1944, that breached Hitler's Atlantic wall.

But the atmosphere is festive as well. Thousands of vets and war buffs, dressed in rnilitary fatigues along with the rest of the family, are driving around the towns and beaches in World War II-vintage jeeps and trucks. They roll down streets lined with Allied flags fluttering in the wind, while shop windows, cars and city buses have stickers with multiple flags saying: "We welcome our liberators." At night, light arrangements in the shape of parachutes glow America as a war bride aboard -the Queen Mary, the QE2's fabled predecessor as the Cunard line's flagship. "There were thousands aboard," she recalled. "We had eight in our cabin.

Dori't ask what we had to eat. I never got to the dining room. I was seasick the entire voyage. If it wasn't for the seven other girls bringing me tea and toast, I'd never have survived. I vowed then I'd never go on a ship again." In New York, Bert's mother took on the education of Eileen with a crash course in how to make pasta.

"Now," Bert says proudly, "the best Italian meals I get are at home. She's the best Italian cook I know, next to my mother." After the D-Day ceremonies, the two are going to make amends for the Bristol Hotel experience by celebrating their golden wedding anniversary at the Grand Hotel in Eastbourne on June 11. Vet, war bride recall A-DrvAtmnjT? A 'Rsifflincr thp fnrmidnhlfi i ABOARD THE OE2 (AP) A Battling the formidable short honeymoon lpfivea and nasses were canceled Earlv in 1946. Eileen came to leaves and passes were canceled Early in 1946, Eileen came to and all troops ordered to return to their units." The MPs, or military police, "were guys from my own outfit," Bert interjected with lingering chagrin. They knew where to get me." Eileen vividly remembers that Bert threw her some money, said she'd have to pay the bill, and was gone.

"Well, I was not very sophisti- cated and never had stayed at a hotel before," Eileen said. "I never will forget the look they gave me when I went to the registration desk alonfe lugging his gear and my suitcase." She took a taxi home, and her horrified aunt cried, "Quick, get inside before the neighbors see you." Married exactly three weeks, Bert landed on Omaha with the First Army on D-Day plus one. He didn't see his bride again until the following March when he got a one week furlough to England from Germany. (II picked up by military police on die second night of his honeymoon is celebrating his 50th wed-ing anniversary by taking his British war bride to the D-Day observances. 5 The romance of Humbert iBert" Betti and the former fiileen Ellis sounds more like a TV sitcom than the sort of Wartime weepie that entwined Robert Taylor and Vivien Leigh on Waterloo Bridge.

Bert was a sergeant with the Military Police detachment in Bristol, England. Eileen, from Beckenham in Kent, was living with her aunt while working for the Auxiliary Territorial Service, plotting maps for antiaircraft batteries stationed around the key port of Bristol. They met at a Red Cross dance, Which she still pronounces with a Julie Andrews accent, in August 1943 and fell in love. But in the military, affairs of the heart farely transpire in shipshape and Bristol fashion. 50th Anniversary of D-Day AMERICAN LEGION Post No.

88.