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<h5>Gen. Eisenhower's Famous Flight with the Pioneer Mustang Fighter Group</h5>
Excerpt from Big Friend, Little Friend: Memoirs of a World War II Fighter Pilot; Richard E. Turner, 356th FS.



For the next three days I flew no missions, letting my fight leaders take over the lead while I cleared up ever present organizational problems of the squadron on the ground. On the afternoon of July 3, I was summoned to Group Headquarters where the Group Commander, Colonel Bickell, informed me that on the Fourth of July, General Elwood R. Quesada would arrive with the Commander-in-Chief of the Allied invasion forces, General Dwight D. Eisenhower. They would fly a personal reconnaissance of the Saint-Lo area in the twin-seated Mustang. The craft mentioned was an old war-weary fighter we had modified by removing the fuselage fuel tank from behind the pilot, putting in its place a second seat. We used this plane occasionally to demonstrate tactics to new pilots, and to give rides to our crew chiefs. Colonel Bickell informed me that he had chosen my squadron to provide the other three aircraft and pilots for protective escort to the two generals during their flight over the area. I was extremely proud to have my squadron chosen to accompany such important personnel, though I must admit, the grave responsibility made me a little nervous.



I hurried back to set up the mission for the next day with engineering and operations. Together with my engineering officer Lieutenant Bernard Ginsberg, his line chief, Master Sergeant Josiah Belden and my operations officer, Captain Verlin Chambers, I selected my aircraft and crews. I selected the pilots from my senior flight commanders. General Quesada would lead the flight, with a flight commander who had flown over fifty missions on his wing and I would lead the second element with another flight commander on my wing. The three accompanying pilots would have a cumulative experience of some 175 missions and forty aerial victories. Saint-Lo and the front lines were no more than twelve miles from the strip so the mission shouldn't last more than about half-an-hour. There would be other Group aircraft deployed on routine missions nearby who would be briefed to converge on the recon flight if unforeseen enemy aircraft activity developed in the area. The plan was to carry out the flight under the guise of a routine patrol flight and to have nothing said over the RT that would give the slightest indication this was a special flight or that important personnel were involved. If anything happened to that old war-weary Mustang and its important passengers, the Allied troops would be dealt a crippling psychological blow. Needless to say I slept fit-fully that night.








Capt. Wallace Emmer, 353rd FS and Capt. Madsen, 9th AF cameraman pose with "THE STARS LOOK DOWN", 355th FS, P-51B Mustang so name after the historic July 4th flight.







The next morning as I looked over the twin-seater, I couldn't help but wonder if General Eisenhower would know that when he climbed into the back seat he would virtually be trapped there until landing when the crew chief could unfasten the closures. It would have been a near impossibility to get out of that rear seat in the air. I myself wouldn't have ridden in the back seat of that monster for all the tea in China. The other planes I had chosen were ready, but Sergeant Belden asked me if I would use a brand-new P-51D that his boys had been working on all night. While I was reluctant to fly any plane but my own, I didn't wish to seem unappreciative of the crew's hard work, and agreed to fly the 51. I had reason later to wish I hadn't.



At briefing my pilots and I were introduced to General Eisenhower who shook each of us by the hand, saying that he understood that he was to be flying with the finest fighter pilots in the ETO. It was deeply gratifying to be so addressed by the Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces. The general seemed genuinely interested in us and in our opinions. He was a man of authority and determination, whose manner impressed all those who saw him.




As we went to our planes, I watched General Eisenhower climb with some difficulty through the small opening behind the cockpit into the cramped bucket seat. There wasn't enough room for both him and a parachute, so the general flew without one. I watched his face as the crew chief buttoned down the Zeus fasteners on the Plexiglas window with a screwdriver, and if he had any misgivings about his obvious helplessness, he showed no concern.



I manned the brand-new Mustang, and started the engine. At the end of the runway General Quesada took off with his wingman in formation, and after a quick three-count I gave it the gas and followed with my wingman. Breaking ground, I pulled up the gear and started milking up the flaps. We caught the leading element within a mile of the strip, and settled into tactical combat formation on the general's right side. After we had climbed to 5000 feet, I made a visual post-take-off check of the cockpit, which I had neglected to do earlier, so preoccupied had I been with seeing that the other planes had gotten off safely. It was then I noticed that something was wrong. The oil-pressure gauge was stopped at zero, and not a quiver of the needle indicated any lubrication of the engine. I knew that without lubrication I had about five minutes' flying time before the engine would catch fire. I had visions of the horde of German fighters which would flock to the area at the first signs of flame, and I knew I had to get out of the area as quickly as possible. I didn't dare announce my departure over the RT, the Germans were constantly tuned in to our radio communications. In desperation I waved off my wingman and closed up to the general's plane. As I caught General Quesada's eye, I pointed at my engine nose and gave the cut engine hand signal. The general gave a quick nod, and without waiting for further acknowledgment I peeled away from the flight in a 180-degree turn. After leveling-off I shoved the nose down in a dive for the strip, cutting my rpm's to reduce the friction which must be building up terrific heat.



I hoped the others would not interpret my abrupt departure as a warning of attack, and wondered what I'd do if the engine packed up before I reached the strip. I was loath to damage a brand-new plane. The temperature gauge showed a quite normal reading, which surprised me since the oil-pressure needle still hung lifeless at zero. I saw the strip coming up and came straight into the runway under reduced power, cutting the throttle even before I touched down in an attempt to save the engine. Rolling to a stop hallway down the runway, I cut the switch and turned off the transmitter.



I climbed out of the plane as they came to tow it away, and walked to squadron operations to wait for a report on the aircraft. After a while Sergeant Belden came in looking very embarrassed. It seems that the new plane had been in perfect condition except for a disconnected pressure-sensing line which accounted for the zero reading I got on the oil gauge. Fortunately no real harm was done, and I told Sergeant Belden not to worry about the incident, sending him back to the line. Personally, I was very upset at having to leave the mission under such circumstances, and swore never again to fly any plane but my own.



Soon the recon flight returned, and I rushed out to the hardstand of the twin-seater. As I arrived General Eisenhower was being helped out of his cubbyhole with a wide grin on his face. He was so pleased with the mission that he could hardly wait to get back to his planning staff and start the gears grinding. I went up to General Quesada to apologize for my sudden departure and explain the reasons for it. The general, much to my relief, understood the dilemma, and approved of my action in the face of it. Although it was consoling to receive official sanction, I still felt a little foolish in light of the nature of the false alarm. But, of course, I had no way of determining this at the time.



This was the first time in history that a ground general had personally reconnoitered the terrain of a planned battle operation from a fighter aircraft in the presence of the enemy. Toward the end of July we took part in this operation which became known as "the breakthrough at Saint-Lo." In these operations General George S. Patton and his famed Third Army made the dramatic gains on enemy territory. Their advance was not halted until the supply line was weakened by distance before the defenses of Metz.

SpruceGoose a écrit :Sympa ce genre de souvenir militaire.

Ca me rappelle celui d'un jeune sous-lieutenant qui fut le pilote de l'avion privé de George Patton.
Patton s'était acheté un avion afin d'effectuer des observations de manoeuvres de cavalerie. Il estimait qu'un avion était particulièrement utile afin de diriger les mouvements des chars en combat.
(La fourniture d'un avion aux frais du contribuable lui avait été refusée).

Le jeune pilote en question était Paul Tibbets.

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