Knisley

Page 5

CORBIN: How well I remember that. It is still in my mind today. It was witnessed by a lot of our guys, because it was out in the open and a clear day. As I saw Lt Golas's plane going down, it made me stop and think. I knew as long as a Cub was up, we were not going to get any 88s. I did not think of what it took to get those planes up there or the danger that was involved. I decided then and there that I would keep my job on the ground. When I came into the 3 AD I was placed into the R O Section under a Sgt. Theodore Marik, and 1st. Lt. Harvey Patterson . After Mortain Sgt. Marik received a battlefield commission, and went to the Air Section, and Lt. Patterson was captured near Mossbach. Then I got Sgt. Marik's job as Chief of Section. He was a very cool man, and a good teacher. I looked him up in Mobille, AL. Did you ever fly with him?

KNISLEY: Yes I flew with Ted Marik as Air Observer most of the time until he got wounded. I also remember Harvey Patterson. After Eddie was killed on August 29, and because at that time the 391st was more heavily committed to combat than the 67th, I was sent over to the 391st as battalion air officer. My sergeant pilot, Walt Ford, having received a battlefield commission, took over my group on a temporary basis. Although I was to inherit a better crew than I had at the 67th, I had some real misgivings about the transfer. My colonel in the 67th, Col. Berry, had used the air section more judiciously, I felt, than Col. George Garton of the 391st. Col. Garton was a little like Eddie Golas, over zealous and expecting too much of his air section. For instance, he had insisted once that Eddie fly up close to a church tower, where the colonel was convinced that Krauts had an observation post. He thought that maybe Eddie could toss hand grenades from the plane into the church steeple. Ed, of course, refused, which he had every right to do. I think that Eddie's getting killed mellowed Col. Garton a little, for I found him to be a reasonable boss. He never questioned anything I did, and if, at any time, I said that conditions (such as weather) were not good for flying, that was it. He did, however, on one occasion, almost get us both killed. He decided that he'd like to fly over the British position on our left flank. The map he had showing the British position was either wrong, or he misread it. I kept telling him that I couldn't see any signs of the British below us, but he insisted that he knew where we were. Suddenly all hell broke loose. Flak exploded all around us, while tracers flew in front of the plane. Obviously, we were well beyond the British lines. Somehow we got out by diving, then flying about ten feet off the ground, with Col. Garton cursing the British all the time for not being where they were supposed to be. Both Col. Garton and Col. Berry were West Pointers, but their personalities were quite different.
      Except for a couple of weeks when I was transferred to the division artillery headquarters, I was to spend the rest of the war as battalion air officer of the 391st battalion. Earlier I mentioned the crew I inherited. They consisted of Lester Hardgrove, the other pilot (battlefield commission); who was a good flyer, Sgt. Roy Naylor, my crew chief from Omaha, Nebraska; Bill Alexander, my jeep driver from Missouri; Corporal Stan Gibson, my radio operator from California; Tony Fagliaroni, a mechanic's helper from New Jersey; Al "Zeb" Zubrickas, half-track driver from Indiana; and Harry Pickering, mechanic's helper from Oklahoma. Pickering, a full-blooded Cherokee Indian, was replaced by Pappy Laird. We lived together almost like family.
      Since Roy Naylor was crazy about flying and about airplanes, I taught him to fly and even let him solo. It was somewhat illegal, but I rationalized that in an emergency, it could be advantageous to have another person capable of moving the planes. After his separation from the army, Roy settled in California, where he continued his flying in the Cessna that he and his son bought.
      The officers who were assigned most of the time to my section as observers were Lt. Ted Marik from Alabama and Mike Cronin from New Jersey. both very proficient in their jobs. One day while directing fire near Aachen in Germany, Ted was hit by ground fire, probably a 50-calibre machine gun. I had put the plane in a steep bank to get a better position to spot the next artillery bursts, when Ted, who was in the back seat (I always flew from the front seat), caught the bullet in his left knee. It went through his knee and into the right knee and on out the other side of the plane. He actually had four holes from one bullet. We were flying at around 300 feet, which was about standard for conducting a fire mission. Ted was evacuated to the rear, and I never saw him again. His replacement was Lt. Vic Grothisch, a younger guy from Des Moines, Iowa. He also proved to be an excellent observer.
      I mentioned being transferred to Division Artillery for a short period. Near Stolberg Lt. Pfeiffer, who had been my sergeant pilot at Indiantown Gap, and Captain Frank Farrrell were both killed when their plane was struck by one of our own artillery shells. They evidently flew into the path of the shell's trajectory. Since they were the two pilots attached to Division Headquarters, I was sent up to ferry the division artillery commanders around until a replacement pilot could be found.
    I was glad when I got back to the 391st and my crew, but if I'd stayed at Division Artillery, I might have been promoted to captain. At the time, I was quite content to be just a first lieutenant. No one could accuse me of being an ambitious soldier.