Eddie Stearns Story

World War II is now about 65 years into history, but the discussions still persist when old, but

not so bold, airmen get together and the conversation turns to the comparative qualities of the

Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress versus the Consolidated B-24 Liberator.

Although the B-24 was a faster, longer range aircraft with a heavier bomb load, there was a greater

satisfaction with the crews who flew the B-17. The design of the B-24 with its high fuselage fuel tanks

and light weight construction made it vulnerable to catching fire.

There were a total of over 18,000 B-24's manufactured to 12,000 B-17's. The cost of a B-24 was about

$300,000 compared to $240,000 for a B-17.

Aesthetically, there was no comparison. The B-17 was a handsome bird with its imposing vertical stablizer

while the B-24 resembled a large oversized box with wings attached to either side. In fact it was

often referred to as the "Flying Boxcar".

The crews who flew the B-17 were impressed with its sheer ruggedness and durability which meant

that even though shot to pieces over Germany the old bird would get them back home to England to

a hot meal and a warm sack.

The following is one airman's story about his B-17, the Lucy Lou:

My name is Eddie Stearns and I was aT/Sgt. in the 406th Bomb Squadron of the 305th Bomb Group

(Heavy) stationed at Cheddington Air Field at Tring, England in 1944. Among a total of 47 combat

missions I flew (only 35 were required) one stands out more vividly today, some 65 years later,

from all the rest.

At our briefing one particular night in late October of 1944, our mission was to drop leaflets on a German

city advising the civilians to evacuate as it was in our plans to level their home town. On another target we

dropped leaflets on German troops advising them their cause, although important to them, was now lost.

With the leaflets they could surrender to Allied troops and receive food and humane treatment. Later, in

the Korean War these leaftets became known as "safe conduct" passes.

So, in our beloved "Lucy Lou" we took off from Cheddington, alone and without fighter escort, at

2200 hours into the black of night.. Our crew was made up of the following men with whom I'd flown

a great number of missions, except for the pilot and copilot who were new to the rest of us. As a

result I don't recall either of their names which is just as well, as you will see.

Navigator: Gunderson - He later became a Brig. General

Bombardier: Seferna

Waist gunners: Joe Roden and Bill Taylor

Tail gunner: Walt Ruggles

Flight Engineer: I - Eddie Stearns

Pilot and Co-pilot: Unknown

Our flight took us across the English Channel, over France and deep into Germany. Although we

did not encounter any German night fighter aircraft, we were pummeled mercilessly with German

flak guns every time we stumbled over a blackened out German city. Antiaircraft artillery always

seems worse at night as those rounds come up to meet us like fiery tennis balls which exploded

all around us. We could hear the shrapnel raining down on us like so much hail in a violent thunder

storm in Oklahoma. Some pieces penetrated the skin of the aircraft and rattled around on the floor

of the fuselage, too hot to handle. Fortunately, not a single crewman was hit.

After completing our leaflet drops we headed for home. By this time every German 88 mm gun

in occupied France was alerted to our presence and we really caught the blunt end of their

anger. A lucky hit for them took out our #1 engine which we were able to feather. Being an

outboard engine it didn't affect our airspeed too much and we were able to maintain our

altitude at 24,000 ft..

Our good luck didn't last long as shortly thereafter an explosive round of some kind hit our

#4 engine setting it on fire. Fortunately, we were able to extinguish the flame and we

proceeded on toward England. The loss of two engines began to have a disastrous effect on our

airspeed and we began to lose altitude. The pilot ordered us to salvo everything we could to

lighten the load, so out went our .50 caliber machine guns, ammunition and ammo cans.

Everything that wasn't nailed down, except for parachutes, was thrown overboard.

Limping along, losing altitude on two engines, we thought things couldn't get any worse, but it did.

Another lucky AAA battery down below got our #3 engine. With only one engine it seemed

there was no way to keep Lucy Lou in the air, so the pilot gave the order to "Bail Out".

I immediately approached the pilot and told him that #2 was purring great and that we had

plenty of fuel. With the 5 degrees more flap I could give him, I thought we could at least make it

to the Channel and friendly territory.. I certainly didn't want to bail out in the middle of the night

into German occupied Europe saturated with flak. The pilot came back again, saying "I want

everyone to bail out and that's a direct order".

Angrily, I countered by telling him to get out of his seat and I'd fly the machine. (My pilot back in

Rapid City, SD had taught me a lot about flyng the '17. I learned to do "lazy eights" and fly

formation with two engines out on the same side. In fact I had 50 hours of stick time when I arrived in England.) At this point in time I saw the pilot go for his .45, but I had drawn my

pistol first and I took his weapon from him. Turning, I saw the copilot reaching toward his right

side, so I pointed my .45 between his eyes and he surrendered his weapon to me, also. I told the pilot

to fly the plane or bail out and I would take it home. He "chickened" out saying there was too much

flak although just a minute earlier he had given all of us the order to bail out into thick of it.

So, the pilot continued to fly the plane as I adjusted the flaps and began transfering fuel from one tank

to another to keep the plane balanced and flying even. Our airspeed dropped dangerously low and

we began to lose altitude. By the time we reached the English Channel we had dropped from

24,000 to 10,000 ft.. Now with another 200 miles to Cheddington, we continued to limp along on

that one faithful old Cyclone engine. Thankfully, it was an inboard engine, or all would have

been in vain. We called the tower and they sent fire trucks out to meet us. We were home with

5,000 ft. to spare, with the engine running on fumes as we were that low on fuel. There was no

need for any ambulance because miraculously no one had been hit by the showers of flak we had

When I got to debriefing Lt. Col. Alber, our CO, asked me if I had disobeyed a direct order by an

officer in the face of combat. (You see he had talked to the pilots before he got to me.) As I answered,

"Yes, Sir", I handed the two .45's to him that I had in my pockets. With a puzzled look on his face

he asked why in the world would I have the pilots' weapons. I replied saying, "When I saw them

going for their pistols I feared for my life, thinking they would shoot me for disobeying their orders

to bail ou. Since I was standing I was able to draw my weapon first and with it, aimed at their eyes,

they forfeited their .45's to me."

Under the circumstances, the Colonel said that I would be court-martialed the following morning.

He further advised that no one was to discuss the matter with anyone to prevent any collaboration

of stories. To enforce this order he placed an MP in our barracks that night to keep us all separated.

I didn't sleep too well that night wondering how the following day's hearing would affect my

T/Sgt. stripes and my AAF career. As we entered Col. Aber's office next day at 0800 hours escorted

by the MP we found 10 chairs, one for each crew member, aligned properly in the outer office.

Col, Aber called us in one at a time and as he asked thought-provoking questions, his secretary was

recording all of the conversation. After all 10 of us had been questioned thoroughly he called the

whole group into his inner office. It was then that he said that he found several inconsistencies in the

testimony of two of the crew, but the stories of the remaining eight were true as a die. Therefore,

he was going with the majority. It was at that point in time I began to breathe more easily.

He then said to me that since I was the one being charged, "How do you plead? Guilty or Not Gulty?"

I anwered, "Guilty with exceptions, Sir." When he asked about the exceptions, I told him what I had

heard from our ground crews, that on two occasions these pilots when shot up on other missions had directed their crews to jettison all loose equipment and bail out. Then with a much lighter load they had

proceeded to fly home and land safely. As the Colonel checked the records and saw where these

men had flown home without their crews, he face got redder than a GI stove with the draft wide open.

Holding his composure the best he could, he rose to his feet, straightened up and thrust out his

chest. In no uncertain words, he told them they were a couple of the biggest cowards he had

seen and that they were a disgrace to the AAF uniforms they were wearing. Cooling down a bit,

he ordered them to return to their barracks and pack their B-4 bags. He said as soon as orders

could be cut, they would be on their way to a place they wouldn't like.

As for me, I was restricted to the base for one week except when I was flying missions.

As for Lucy Lou, she lived to fly again! Although resembling a sieve, she was patched up; in fact,

I made some of the sheet metal repairs on her myself. All of her tired and spent engines were replaced

with brand new Wright Cyclone R-1820-97 engines which breathed new life into her weary veins.

When I left for home some time later, she was still invading the skies of Germany exposing

herself to all the firepower Hitler's flak batteries and Luftwaffe could muster.

Although this experience occurred many years ago, a day never passes without my recalling the day that our beloved Lucy Lou brought us home from imminent disaster on a "wing and a prayer"----along with one beautiful No. 2 engine that had heart.