By mid-April 1945 the war in Europe was rapidly winding down. The Soviets were fighting in the suburbs of Berlin and had occupied much of the eastern region of Germany to the north and south of the city. From the west, American and British forces were moving swiftly across central and southern Germany. Lieutenant General George S. Patton’s Third Army was closing on the Czechoslovakian border. It was obvious to all that the final collapse of German ground forces was only a matter of days away.

Still, the air war continued unabated. Bombing missions were being flown nearly every day, although substantive strategic targets were harder to find. While the Luftwaffe still had a large number of fighters, many of them Messerschmitt Me-262 jets, it lacked sufficient fuel and experienced pilots to seriously oppose the Allied bombers. Allied fighters controlled the skies over Europe, but German anti-aircraft defenses were still murderously effective. The U.S. Eighth Air Force was therefore faced with the problem of identifying targets of sufficient strategic importance to warrant risking airmen’s lives.

One of the few major industrial plants not yet damaged by allied bombing in April 1945 was the Skoda Armament plant at Pilsen, Czechoslovakia. Long a potential strategic target, it had not been bombed because of its location within a Czech city. The Skoda plant produced tanks, heavy guns and ammunition, but most of that materiel appeared unlikely to reach the front in time to have an effect on the Allied advances. At the outset, therefore, the Skoda plant did not seem a target worthy of the risk, but other factors came into play among the Allied leaders.

By spring 1945, it had become obvious at the higher political levels in Britain and the United States that the Soviets were positioning themselves to lay political claim to as much of postwar Eastern Europe and Germany as possible. It was also assumed that the Soviets would strip all usable equipment from factories in the territories it occupied and ship it home to rebuild the Soviet Union’s postwar industry — and its military strength. Destroying the Skoda plant would deny its machinery to the Soviets. The Western Allies also believed that a demonstration of Allied aerial might, such as a bombing mission that deep into Europe, could deter Soviet ideas of continuing their drive westward from Germany.

Although the request for a bombing mission to Pilsen came from General Dwight D. Eisenhower at Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Forces, the aforementioned political factors most likely weighed heavily in the decision that resulted in Field Order 696. Sent out from the Eighth Air Force at 2323 hours on April 24, the order specified a strike on the Skoda plant. From the outset, the mission was problematic. There were about 40,000 men and women employed at the plant — primarily Czech civilian and conscripted laborers, whose wholesale deaths would damage postwar goodwill between Eastern Europeans and the Western Allies. Consequently, North American P-51 Mustangs were dispatched to Pilsen on the 24th to drop leaflets warning the workers to stay away from the factory the next day. That night, the British Broadcasting Corporation radioed a warning to the Czech workers. On the morning of April 25, Allied Headquarters released another bulletin over the BBC: ‘Allied bombers are out in great strength today. Their destination is the Skoda works. Skoda workers, get out and stay out until the afternoon.’

Field Order 696 sent eight groups of Boeing B-17s of the 1st Air Division to Pilsen. Ten groups of Consolidated B-24s from the 2nd Air Division were targeted for rail centers at Salzburg, Bad Reichenhall, Hallstein and Trauenstein. Nine groups of B-17s in the 3rd Air Division were also slated to drop food supplies to several German-occupied Dutch cities during the afternoon of the 25th, but that mission was later canceled because of adverse weather conditions.

In the 1st Air Division, the 40th Combat Wing dispatched its 92nd Bomb Group as the division lead, with the 305th Group following. Lieutenant Colonel William H. Nelson was the 1st Division air commander. The other two combat wings each sent all three of their groups: From the 41st came the 303rd, 379th and 384th groups, while the 1st Wing sent the 398th, 91st and 381st groups. The 92nd and 398th groups each put up four squadrons, while the other groups sent out the usual three squadrons.

While the other bomb groups attacked the Skoda plant, the 91st, flying out of Bassingbourn, was to attack the airfield at Pilsen, where Allied reconnaissance planes had observed about 100 German aircraft, including Me-262s. The 91st’s formation included the 322nd Squadron, flying as group lead; the 323rd, flying as high squadron; and the 324th, flying as low squadron. Lieutenant Colonel Donald H. Sheeler, who was flying as co-pilot with Captain Rayolyn W. Schroeder’s crew, was the group lead. First Lieutenant Leslie S. Thompson, Jr., served as the first pilot of squadron lead for the 323rd Squadron.

The crews were awakened for breakfast at 0200, then briefed an hour later. The bombload for the lead and low squadrons was 20 250-pound general purpose bombs, while the high squadron aircraft each carried six 500-pound general purpose bombs and four M-17 incendiaries. The aiming point (AP) for the 322nd and 324th squadrons was the center of Pilsen’s runways, while the 323rd was to aim for the west hangar on the south side of the field. The crews were told to make every possible attempt to keep their bombing patterns within the target area, avoiding nearby civilian areas. Bombing on the primary target was to be visual only, with bombing altitudes for the lead squadron at 22,000 feet, the high squadron at 22,500 feet and the low squadron at 21,500 feet.

The secondary target was a visual run on the railway traffic center on the east side of Munich. The aiming point for the 322nd lead squadron was the goods depot, while the high 323rd Squadron targeted the main station, and the low 324th Squadron aimed for the bridge over the rail yards. The number three target was the main railway station in Munich.

A scouting force with call-sign ‘Buckeye Black,’ consisting of six P-51 fighters, would provide information on the local weather conditions to Colonel Nelson 45 minutes prior to time over target. A screening force of four aircraft, call-sign ‘Small Leak Blue,’ would rendezvous with the 91st Group’s lead flight at 0955, 40 minutes from the primary target. The target to be attacked would be determined at that time. Upon receiving that information, Small Leak Blue would accompany the group lead to the appropriate initial point (IP, the beginning of the bomb run), where the screening aircraft would pull ahead and drop chaff in the target area.

The 324th Squadron crews were at their planes at 0430. While 1st Lt. William Steffens’ crew was going through its preflight checks, sergeant William L. Swanson, the radio operator, tuned in to the BBC and heard its message to the Skoda workers. The planes started their engines at 0515, and the group lead aircraft took off at 0530. First Lieutenant William J. Auth’s lead plane of the 324th Squadron became airborne at 0540. All 324th planes were in the air by 0605.

Although ground fog and high cloud cover over East Anglia made it difficult to see very far, weather was not a major problem for the 91st Group as its lead aircraft reached the assembly altitude of 5,000 feet at 0540. All the 91st aircraft were in formation and left the base area at 0642, only one minute behind schedule. As it happened, however, someone else in the 1st Combat Wing was using the 91st Group lead’s call sign, hampering communications. Further, the 602nd high squadron of the 398th Group, just ahead of the 91st, continually flew wide and back, making it difficult for the 91st’s B-17s to stay in formation and maintain the proper separation. At 1022 — four minutes before the IP — the 1st Division reached the bombing altitude of 22,000 feet. About halfway through the climb, the 382nd Group passed the 91st, relegating it to the eighth and last place in the strike force.

Radio operators in many of the 91st planes listened in on the BBC to break the monotony of the long flight. At about 0930, just an hour before they reached the target, the BBC once again sent warning messages to the Czech workers in the Skoda plant.

Up to that point, the mission was progressing routinely. As the strike force approached the target, however, things became confused. For starters, the P-51 scouting force had gotten lost and reported conditions over Prague instead of over Pilsen. Conditions were worse over Pilsen, but the bomber crews discovered that only as the lead group approached the target — too late to switch to the secondary target. Further, the Germans had obviously heard the BBC’s warnings to the Czech workers and alerted their anti-aircraft gunners. Tracking flak began hitting the strike force about three minutes out from the target and ended just beyond ‘bombs away.’ As the first groups went over the target, the flak was designated as ‘meagre and inaccurate.’ The German gunners did not yet have the proper range.

Because of the dense cloud cover, the lead squadron bombardiers had trouble identifying their APs. In the 92nd Group, the lead squadron bombardier could not see the AP, so the squadron made a 360-degree turn to the right, going over the target and through the flak once again. That group dropped its loads on the second run. The high squadron also failed to see its AP at first and also made a second run. Both the low and low-low squadrons had to make two complete turns before spotting their APs, finally dropping on the third run over the target. None of the three lead bombardiers in the 305th Group spotted the AP at first, and the entire group dropped its bombloads.

The 41st Combat Wing’s groups experienced similar trouble. All three squadrons of the 303rd Group failed to locate their APs on the first run. After making a 360-degree turn and picking an alternate AP, all squadrons bombed on the second pass. The 379th Group’s lead squadron also made a second run. Both the low and high squadrons managed to see their APs and dropped on the first run, then headed back from the rally point without waiting for the lead squadron. After completing its second pass, the lead squadron joined the 91st Group for the return trip across the Continent.

None of the 384th Group’s bombardiers identified the AP on their first pass. On the second run the lead and low squadrons dropped, but the high squadron had to make a third pass. The last 384th Group planes dropped at 1116 — presumably the last bombs dropped on Europe by the Eighth Air Force. The lead and low squadrons circled near Frankfurt until the high squadron caught up with them for the trip back to their home base at Grafton-Underwood.

In the 1st Combat Wing, none of the four squadron lead bombardiers of the 398th Group could find his AP, and all had to make a second pass. As the last group, the 91st, approached the target, its crews saw utter chaos ahead. Squadrons and entire groups were turning around and then trying to find space to wedge back into the bomber stream for another pass. Other squadrons were circling at their group rally points, waiting for their sister squadrons to join them.

The 324th crews saw many planes going down, including; from the lead 92nd Group, No. 369 with Lieutenant Lewis B. Fisher, six of whose crew were killed in action; from the 305th Group, No. 300, Lieutenant Gerald S. Hodges and his crew; from the 303rd, No. 447, piloted by Lieutenant Warren Mauger (three KIA); from the 384th Group, No. 501, piloted by Lieutenant Andrew G. Lovett; from the 398th Group, No. 266, piloted by Lieutenant Allen F. Fergusen, Jr. (six KIA); and No. 652, piloted by Lieutenant Paul A. Coville (one KIA). In addition, two aircraft from the 379th Group — Lieutenant James M. Blain’s No. 178 and Lieutenant Robert C. Evans’ No. 272 — collided in midair as a result of flak damage. Both planes went down in Allied territory. All nine crewmen aboard Blain’s plane, Seattle Sue, and the tail gunner aboard Evans’ The Thumper were killed. A number of planes also fell out of formation because of disabled engines or fires aboard.

Anti-aircraft fire became more accurate with each bombing run. As crews of the 324th Squadron later recalled, by the time the 324th approached the target, the flak was among the most accurate and intense they had encountered on any mission, including over Berlin. The 324th’s formation became exceptionally tight as it headed in over the target.

In spite of the heavy cloud cover, the lead bombardier in No. 852, 1st Lt. Stephen Lada, got a visual fix on the AP and dropped his bombs. The rest of the squadron toggled on his smoke streamer. Just after bombs away, hits on No. 306, The Biggest Bird, flying as the lead plane in the fourth element, knocked out both right engines, disabled the supercharger on an engine on the left wing and severed the rudder control cables. To make matters worse, when Staff Sgt. Francis N. Libby toggled the bombs, 11 of the 20 250-pounders in the aircraft hung up. With only one functional engine, pilot 1st Lt. Robert Marlow took the plane down to the deck to regain power in the engine without the supercharger. Although the crew dumped out all the loose equipment they could locate, it became clear the aircraft would not make it back to Bassingbourn. They could not jettison the bombs, since by then they were over occupied Allied territory. Instead, they pinned them to prevent them from becoming armed, while Marlow looked for the nearest emergency field. He finally put down on a grass airstrip about 50 miles north of Nuremberg — only to discover that his brakes no longer functioned. The Biggest Bird careened over the grass, ground-looped and eventually came to rest in some woods. U.S. Army ground troops came by in a jeep as the crew got out of the plane and told them to hide in the woods to avoid German civilians. A truck soon arrived and picked up all of Marlow’s crew. They returned to Bassingbourn three days later, the last 91st crew to return from a mission over Europe.

Second Lieutenant Glennon J. Schone’s plane, No. 790, Oh Happy Day, flying as the ‘tail-end Charlie’ of the lead squadron, was hit by flak just before bombs away. Damage was minimal, but a fragment about the size of a half-dollar embedded itself in the right thigh of the navigator, 2nd Lt. Arah J. Wilks. Both No. 596, Sweet Dish, and No. 308, Stinky, were hit hard but remained in formation and safely returned to base.

As the other two squadrons came over the target, neither of the lead bombardiers could locate his AP, so the lead planes did not make their drops. The high squadron lead, 1st Lieutenant Leslie S. Thompson, Jr., in No. 630, Geraldine, ordered the squadron to make another run. The radios went wild. Second Lieutenant Willis C. Schilly, a pilot in No. 964, later recalled thinking to himself, ‘If we don’t drop this time, I will not go over again.’ Aboard Number 540, Ramblin’ Rebel, there was some discussion between 1st Lt. Leland C. Borgstrom and his unhappy co-pilot, Flying Officer Quentin E. Eathorne, but they made a second run. Other pilots and crews were equally upset, but all stayed in formation. Because the return leg of the 360-degree turn they had to make was close to the target as well as the flak, many crewmen later said they thought they had made three runs instead of two.

During the first bomb run, number 636, Outhouse Mouse, on her 139th mission and with 1st Lt. Elmer ‘Joe’ Harvey serving as first pilot, took a flak hit that knocked out her number three engine and severed all but two of the elevator control cables. Crewmen patched together the cables, and she stayed in formation as the 323rd went over the target again. However, when her bombardier, Staff Sgt. Edward L. Loftus, hit the toggle switch, her bombs hung up. After the second run, Outhouse Mouse had to drop out of formation. Thirteen minutes after leaving the target, Loftus accidentally jettisoned the bombs (they were supposed to be held if not dropped on the bomb run). Harvey called for fighter support, and eight P-51s escorted Outhouse Mouse most of the way out of Germany. Harvey brought Outhouse Mouse down safely at Bassingbourn at 1428 hours, about half an hour ahead of the rest of the squadron.

None of the other planes in the 323rd high squadron received major damage. Six aircraft, however, did sustain minor damage.

As the 324th Squadron approached the factory, its deputy lead bombardier in No. 884, 1st Lt. Joseph G. Weinstock, had the target in his bombsight when he saw that the lead plane did not drop and that its bomb bay doors were going up — indicating that it was aborting its bomb run. At that instant, a shell burst next to the nose of Weinstock’s aircraft, knocking out the number two engine and sending a large shard of metal into his shoulder. As he was thrown backward, Weinstock toggled his bombs. When the smoke streamer appeared from the deputy lead, all of the other bombardiers released their payloads except the one on 1st Lt. John Nichol’s plane, No. 623. His togglier, Tech. Sgt. Joseph J. Zupko, realized the squadron lead had not dropped and held the bombs.

As the low squadron lead plane — No. 588, Klette’s Wild Hares — went over the target, her bombardier, 1st Lt. Robert E. Finch, said he could not see the AP. Lieutenant Colonel Immanuel ‘Manny’ Klette, the 324th’s commanding officer — who was flying as the squadron leader — told 588’s pilot, 1st Lt. William Auth, ‘Well, we’ll go around’ and started closing the bomb bay doors. Auth then started to turn, at which point Klette broke radio silence to tell the other pilots to follow him back over the target.

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