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The
Delta Rebel & Steve Perri
(Story from the March/April 1995 issue of Yankee Wings by
Jim Hanford)
"Ask
any man who went to war in a Fortress which was the worst
crew position on the aircraft and the chances are he will
immediately reply "The ball turret". Indeed, this
tight little glazed sphere buttoned to the underside of
the fuselage needed a stout-hearted occupant, immune from
claustrophobia and bolstered against the thought of being
without a parachute if the aircraft was suddenly stricken.
So cramped was the gunner's position that an early British
assessment of the turret considered it quite untenable for
long flights - there were many American airmen who would
have agreed." So noted Eighth Air Force historian,
Roger Freeman, in his book, B-17 Fortress at War. But Steve
Perri is not just any man.
Almost
from the moment he was introduced to the Sperry ball turret
he decided that was where he wanted to fly. "I loved
it - I felt like I was flying my own airplane. It was unbelievable!
I could move it straight down and 360 degrees around."
Of course his small (5'6" 138 pound) frame was certainly
a factor. (Translation: You had better like it, because
you're one of the few gunners who can fit inside one.)
Perri was born on January 19, 1922 in Asbury Park, NJ and
moved to neighboring Long Branch when eleven months old.
He attended elementary and high schools there and played
on the school golf and tennis teams. After high school he
attended the Casey Jones School of Aeronautics in Newark,
NJ from which he was inducted into the Army. He started
mechanics school just a week before Pearl Harbor. There
was a need for flight engineers when he completed the course,
so he was sent to gunnery school in Texas where he became
acquainted with the ball turret. After completing the gunnery
course, he went to Walla Walla, Washington for crew training
with the 323rd Bombardment Squadron (Heavy) was activated
a month later at MacDill Field, FL. In late June the squadron
transferred to Walla Walla where combat crews were formed.
Perri's crew was headed by 2Lt. George Birdsong. He recalled
there were only three aircraft available for each of the
four squadrons. "Those airplanes were in the air 24
hours a day," he said. On August 24th, the squadron
divided into air and ground echelons. The latter (17 officers,
257 enlisted men left immediately by train for the East
Coast where they boarded a ship for England. The air echelon
(38 officers and 47 enlisted) proceeded to Boise, Idaho
and turned in the training airplanes, then proceeded by
rail to the B-17 Modification Center at Bangor, Maine where
they drew brand-new B-17F models to take overseas. (In order
to minimize disruption to the aircraft production lines,
it was common to move completed ships to a modification
center for installation of late design changes and field
changes.) One field change was the installation of stowage
racks for six .30 caliber carbines, ostensibly for the crew's
use if brought down in enemy territory. While at Bangor
the crew had the name Delta Rebel #2 painted on their ship.
Unfortunately, the original Delta Rebel never left the United
States. They had taken it out on a fuel consumption flight
with an intermediate stop at Mitchell Field, Long Island.
While they were absent from the aircraft, an unauthorized
ground crewman tried to move it, lost control, and taxied
it into three other airplanes wrecking them all before he
stopped.
The air echelon ferried their aircraft to England via Gander,
Newfoundland and Prestwick, Scotland. The runway at Gander
was so wide that the B-17s took off three abreast. It also
had a significant hump in the middle. "Once you got
over that, you picked up speed like crazy," recalls
Perri. Shortly after take-off they encountered icing and
Birdsong climbed above it. Their aircraft was followed by
an echelon of the 303rd BG Although most of the B-17s elected
to fly beneath the weather. When they arrived at Prestwick,
the 303rd BG Commander, a full Colonel was noticeable irritated
when he realized that he had followed a "lowly second
Lieutenant" into severe icing conditions while the
majority of his group had taken a more prudent altitude.
The ground echelon arrived in Great Britain on September
11, 1942 and spent a month at Kimbolton Air Base before
moving to their permanent station at Bassingbourne, where
they flew three practice missions before the group's first
combat mission on Nov. 7th. Although the 323rd was "stood
down" that day, Perri and a navigator Lt.John Roten. as replacement
crewmen, earned the distinction of beating their squadron-mates
into battle. Perri completed 25 missions as a ball turret
gunner and 23 of those were made in the Delta Rebel #2 piloted
by Lt. Birdsong. During his tour, he was officially credited
with four enemy aircraft destroyed including two Me-109's
an Me-110 and an FW-190. "I actually claimed seven
but four of them were confirmed." For his contributions
he received the Air Medal with three oak leaf clusters and
a Distinguished Flying Cross. All airmen received the Air
Medal upon completion of five combat missions. He was awarded
the DFC for the third kill and clusters to the Air Medal
for the others. The passage of time has dimmed some of those
aerial encounters. Unit records show that he got his first
kill, an FW-190 on December 30, 1942 on a mission to bomb
the submarine pens at Lorient, France. His third and fourth
kills were Me-109s on April 18th-Bremen and May 19th-Keil
respectively.
He remembers with vivid clarity however, the mission to
Hamm, Germany on March 4, 1943. Five times previously the
fledgling Eight Air Force had set out to make a reasonably
deep penetration into Northwest Germany, only to be frustrated
by the weather. This day they took off into a gray dawn
although the weather over the target for forecast to be
fair. As the formation crossed the occupied coast however,
there seemed to be little improvement and three groups turned
back. Perri's own crew had already experienced an omen of
what lay ahead when they lost an engine during take-off.
The crew of Delta Rebel #2 jumped into a spare ship appropriately
named Stormy Weather and rejoined their group. The fifteen
B-17s of the 91st stayed above the "soup" and
lost contack with the other groups. As they approached the
target, the weather cleared and it became apparent that
they were alone. Major Paul Fishburne, a 22 year old leading
the group, elected to press on and subsequently made an
excellent bomb run.
Approaching Hamm at 22,000 feet, Pilot Birdsong asked Perri
whether
he could see another B-17 group. What Perri saw was 60 enemy
day fighters which had initially been confused by the diverging
bomber tracks but were now determined to exact a price.
They pressed their attacks from all directions. Perri's
bullets sawed the canopy off an Me-110 forcing the pilot
and gunner
to bail out. It was his second confirmed kill. "He
was coming up from hitting us in the rear and he started
to go back down. He was really close to us, must have been
80 to 100 yards. I was tracking him and firing, trying to
stay in front of him - leading and leading and leading him
- until the turret stopped at dead zero, so I just held
my finger on the trigger and he went through the fire and
I raked the back of him. I spun around and saw they were
shot up. They were close enough that I could see the pilot
and gunner fighting to get out - there were two of them
in a 110. It was the first time I actually saw a German.
Then I saw them bail out." "Then we really caught
it." he said. "A Focke Wulf came after us - they
have 20 millimeter cannons synchronized to fir through their
props and we took a 20 mm shell right through the windshield
hitting our co-pilot and our pilot had bits of glass in
his right eye. Another shell knocked out our number three
engine." When the bombardier hit the salvo switch,
nothing happened. Battle damage had sheared the wires to
the bomb bay, hence the bombs had not released. With two
engines out, Birdsong dropped to the deck to avoid enemy
fighters. A crew member crawled into the bomb bay and replaced
the arming pins, but Birdsong still had to land the plane
with only two engines, three wounded men and a load of bombs
on board and no brakes. As our pilot set the wheels down
on the runway, he hit the brakes and the pedals went right
to the floor. The main brakes were out and the end of the
runway was coming up fast. We went through the perimeter
fencing, across the main road, over a ditch and between
two telephone poles, through a farm full of Brussel sprouts,
over a plow which ripped off the ball turret and then we
crashed into a haystack and ....stopped.
Perri's experiences refute the British claim that the ball
turret was "quite untenable for long missions"
He estimated that his longest missions involved 6 1/2 to
7 hours actually inside the turret. However, he had completed
his tour before the really deep penetrations into Germany.
For Perri the mission preparations began the day before
take-off. Each gunner was assigned his own .50 caliber machine
guns which were stored in the base armament show between
missions. He cleaned and oiled them the day after each mission
and covered the breech mechanism with an athletic sock.
When alerted for a mission, he stopped by the armament shop
and thoroughly removed the oil lest it freeze at altitude
and cause the gun to jam. After briefing, the gunners drew
their guns and were transported to their aircraft. From
outside the turret, Perri removed a small cover on each
side of the entrance door and inserted the guns into their
rigid mounts. After pre-flighting the turret, he helped
the pilot and flight engineer pre-flight the aircraft.
The turret was not manned for take-offs and landings. Perri
entered and excited while the aircraft was over the English
Channel. Before entering however, it was time to load the
guns. While the turret was stowed in take-off position i.e.guns
horizontal and facing rearward. The two covers were removable
from inside the fuselage. Through the openings he fed belted
ammunition into the turret boxes until full (approximately
400 rounds each). With a hand crank he depressed the turret
straight down, which moved the entry door inside the fuselage.
My buddy, T/Sgt.Harry Kulchesky. the right waist gunner helped me get into and out of
the turret. Inside the ball turret there was neither room
for a parachute nor for the heavy fleece-lined flying suit
that waist gunners wore. Perri wore coveralls, a light-weight
flight jacket and English flying boots, depending primarily
upon the electrically-heated undergarment to keep him warm
in temperatures as low as - 30 degrees F. One hazard was
burns in the groin, resulting from crimped wires in the
electric suit. Once inside, he connected his throat mike,
earphones and oxygen hose and fastened his safety belt.
He was curled up with his back resting against the armored
door, his legs bent and his feet resting on each side of
the 13-inch diameter armored glass panel which was his main
window on the world. The two 50s were just inches away from
his head with the ammo boxes above them. His face was about
30 inches from the armored glass panel and suspended in
between was the optical display glass for the computing
gun sight. With his left foot he could adjust the lighted
reticles projected onto this glass. When a target was framed
by them, the range was correct. Two post handles projected
rearward above the sight and flexing then moved the turret
in azimuth and elevation. The firing buttons for the guns
were in the ends of these handles, hence, to move the turret
and fire the guns, Perri's arms were bent with his hands
above his head. As cramped as it sounds, it was actually
quite comfortable "if I was firing straight out, it
was like an easy chair". Perri also refuted the common
belief that the ball was the most dangerous crew position.
Although he wore his parachute harness, the chest pack itself
was stowed in the fuselage by the radio room bulkhead. A
waist gunner was assigned to latch and unlatch the turret
door and help him in and out. We were able to get out in
30 seconds. As far as danger, the pilots and the crewmen
in the nose had it worse because the Luftwaffes preferred
to attack from ahead (12 o'clock high). The B-17F had less
defensive machine guns forward and the fighters had a better
chance of hitting the pilots and/or the bombardier thus
breaking up the attack. The "REEL" Air Gunner
One famous person who need not have exposed himself to the
hazards of aerial combat and did so anyway, was movie actor,
Clark Gable. In January 1942, his wife, actress Carol Lombard,
was killed in an airline crash. Gable grieved so much that
he couldn't resume acting, and joined the Air Force. There
are conflicting accounts, however, about his military service.
Whether it was his idea to enlist or General Arnold's is
unclear, but the 41 year old actor, did not go in with the
rank of captain, as an MGM press agent suggested. Private
Gable's first assignment was to Officers' Candidate School,
graduating in 1943 as a second lieutenant. It was no coincidence
that an MGM cameraman, Andrew Mclntyre, took OCS training
with him. On completion, he reported to General Arnold for
a special assignment- to make movies of AAF activities for
public relations purposes, beginning with one about aerial
gunners. Gable and Mclntyre dutifully entered gunnery training
at Tyndall Field, Florida, where the former made first lieutenant.
In April 1943 Gable, now a captain just six months out of
OCS, and Mclntyre went overseas with 351st Bomb Group.
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While
in England, he is credited with having flown five combat
missions. By the fall of 1943 Gable's crew had exposed
50,000 feet of film and the team returned home. From
the footage, he produced a 63 minute feature entitled
Combat America but it was released at the same time
as William Wyler's Memphis Belle, which far overshadowed
the former, Subsequently, however, at least five films
used the combat footage shot by the Gable team. Perri
remembers him as "a great friend of the enlisted
men as well as a great all-around guy." |
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