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There’s a little park we pass occasionally on our travels. The sign says Johnson’s Corner and there’s an American flag. I asked Uncle B to stop there the other day so I could read the memorial, and here’s what it said:

This memorial was erected to honour the memory of 23 year old 1st Lt William H Johnson of the U.S.A.A.F. who sacrificed his life on Thursday the 13th April 1944. William (Bill) was the pilot of a Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress, serial number42-31719 of the 711th Bombardment Squadron, 447th Bombardment Group, United States Army Air Force. At the time of his death William’s squadron was based at station number 125, Rattlesden, Bury St Edmunds Suffolk.

Following the crew briefing which had been at 0800hrs, Bill’s aircraft was one of 243 B-17’s which were taking part in a raid to bomb the Messerschmitt Aircraft plant at Augsburg, Bavaria, southern Germany. The bombing altitude of 22 thousand feet was reached as the group crossed the French coast. About one hundred miles later the bombers came under heavy accurate flak fire which caused a number of planes to abort and head home. This included William’s aircraft, having suffered heavy damage. Once the Flying Fortress was over the Kent coast at Hythe, William ordered his crew to bale out from their stricken aircraft. As he crossed the Romney Marsh and approaching the village of Ham Street, William realised that his B 17 was going to crash into the village. In order to avoid the inevitable loss of life amongst the local population, he sacrificed his life by crashing the huge bomber to the south of the village.

FRANK J HAZZARD SUBMITTED THE FOLLOWING
For about twenty minutes after we hit the French coast and were well on our way to Augsburg every thing went along smoothly but then suddenly all hell broke loose. A terrific explosion sounded directly beneath my turret, I knew we had been hit pretty badly because I heard the co pilot saying that he was going to feather number four engine, and that number three was out also. The power line in my top turret was also hit, rendering my guns useless. All four officers had been wounded by the flak, so I proceeded to the cockpit to see if there was anything I could do.

The co pilot had been hit in the arm rather badly. I cut his sleeve open and bandaged his wrist and arm. The pilot had been hit in the back of his neck, but he told me to take care of the Navigator first. I went to the nose of the ship and saw that the navigator had been hit in the leg. I slit open his trouser leg, the wound was bleeding very badly, and I knew he must have been in great pain, but he remained navigating the ship. The Bombardier had also been hit in the arm but the cut was not bleeding so I figured he would be OK. The co pilot called me and asked me to transfer the fuel from number four to number one engine. This done I started to throw all my ammunition and ammunition boxes, flak helmet, and other removable equipment out of the plane in order to lighten the load. I went to the nose and did the same there.

About this time we were hit again and number one engine went out. We were flying on one engine and losing altitude and flying speed all the time. I guess we were in a pretty bad spot but I was too busy running from my turret to the nose to the cockpit and back again to think to much about it. Down in the nose I put another bandage on the navigator’s leg. When we hit the channel we were flying at 8,000 feet, when we hit the English coast we were at 1,500 feet. Just as I was thinking we were going to make it back to base in one piece, I felt he ship vibrating something awful, looking out of my window I saw that she was on fire. I was in the nose at the time, tapping the navigator on the shoulder I showed him the fire he nodded. I then went back to the pilot’s compartment, I saw the Bombardier on the catwalk of the bomb bay looking for his chute. I remembered seeing it in my turret so I went and got it for him. Because of his wounds he could not put his chute on, so I snapped it on for him. And led him to the bomb bay doors where he jumped out. I thought every one but me and the pilot had left the ship. I looked towards his seat and saw him getting up preparing to jump. I later found out he never made it, and he was killed when the plane crashed about half a mile away from where I jumped. When I landed I saw the co pilot a few feet away. The first thing he said to me was, ‘Combat’s rough. You can get hurt at this sort of thing’. It struck me very funny at the time but I guess there is nothing funny about what we had just been through. It was only for the skill of our pilot that we got back.

Think on that, folks, and have a good weekend.