George Kesselring served as a B-17 pilot with the 91st Bomb Group at Bassingbourn, England. One of his aircraft was nicknamed "Sweet 17".



George enlisted in the Army Air Corps as an aviation cadet in 1942. He graduated from flight school and was assigned to Goodfellow Air Field, San Angelo, TX as a pilot instructor. In 1943, he and his crew were sent to England where he flew 35 missions as a decorated pilot. His tour of duty in Europe was finished on April 13, 1945. George completed his Air Force career in various fields of Personnel and retired as a Major on August 31,

1963.



REMEMBERING: By George Kesselring

(Printed July 1995 Ragged Irregular Newsletter)

Recently two WWII Bombers came to Fort Smith to be viewed by the public. One of those planes was a replica of a plane called Nine-O-Nine. Having flown Nine-O-Nine one time, while my B17 was in maintenance for repairs, the showing caught my interest. My wife had never seen or been inside a B17 Bomber. I felt that she should be interested, so we went to see these relics of the past.

The exterior of the plane was as I remembered, and I realized that it was a long way from Bassingbourn, England, and a long time between then and now. This twenty year old Iowa farm boy matured very rapidly as a pilot of such Flying Fortresses while making thirty-five missions over Germany with the 91st Bomb Group.

As l went through this B17 I could see my crewmen, each one at his combat station. The inside of the aircraft was smaller than I remembered, or maybe fifty years had made me larger, but there was room in my mind for memories. Lt John Flynn and I were the pilots. We flew for fifteen minutes each so that we would not become "fixated" and not able to hold our distance from the other planes in our tight formations. Those formations were our protection against the German fighter planes. There was a lot of contrast between the personalities of the kid from Boston and a Midwestern farm boy, but we were a fine flying team.

The faces of Lt McPhie and Lt Curtis, the bombardier and navigator, were seen in the nose section, taking care of the business at hand. Sgt Harley Russel, the Arkansasan and flight engineer stood behind the pilots making sure the aircraft was operating properly. That is, when he wasn't in the upper turret firing his two fifty caliber machine guns at German fighters.

Sgt Robert Langston, from Kentucky, sat at his little desk in front of the radio; and the two waist gunners, Earl Roach, from Texas, and Eugene Cruise, from Michigan, were doing their thing. I couldn't get back to the tail gunner’s position as this crew had stowed gear in the passage way, but I know our Texan, Richard Pridemore, was there protecting us from a rear attack.

Our ball turret gunner, Sgt Donald Pubentz from Chicago, was remembered. I can still see his face and I remember he was flying his thirty-third mission when a 20mm shell exploded inside his turret. He only had two more missions to fly before going home. Sgt Roach, one of our waist gunners, named his son “Donald" in Pubentz's memory.

In my mind there are thirty-five chapters of a book; one for each of our thirty-five missions. Of course, there is a prologue and an epilogue to tell of the preparation and the consequences of everything that took place, but on this day I think only of those young warriors.

Yes, I saw all their faces, as they were then; young men in their teens and early twenties. I wouldn't know them now, they are old men - like me. However, as l grow older they will remain forever young, forever brave and forever in my memory...George Kesselring