2nd. Lt. Clinton Gruber was shot down, 1 December 1943, in the B-24D, 42-40769, named, Iron Ass. He was captured in Germany and remained a prisoner of war until released by Russian and American Forces. - POW.



After enlisting, Clinton Gruber was processed into the Army Air Corps as an aviation cadet. After a rigorous and relentless air and ground curriculum, he was assigned as a copilot in a B-24 Liberator a huge four engined heavy bomber, part of a ten man crew lead by 2nd. Lt. Horace “Ketch” Ketchum, from San Saba, Texas. Gruber later wrote, “Our crew were all great people, and we got along well. 'Ketch' was a good pilot and was my teacher in flying the B-24,” Gruber recalled.



The crew flew to England, where they were assigned to the 93rd Bomb Group, based at Hardwick, U.K., about 56 miles north of London, where they were assigned a new B-24D. Painted on its fuselage was a caricature of a kicking mule and its nickname: Iron Ass, a war time expression denoting a hard-nosed commanding officer. They flew nine missions, some from Africa and some from England, including a harrowing sortie over Austria in which several bombers in their group were shot down, one exploding a hundred yards ahead of them in a huge ball of flame and debris.



Then, early in the morning of Dec. 1, 1943, the 93rd’s combat crews rose in the drizzly predawn darkness for a mission briefing. The target: Solingen, a transportation hub in the Ruhr Valley, Germany’s industrial heartland, heavily defended by flak guns and fighters. The group had gone there the day before but had to abort due to cloud cover over the target. Now it was on again.



After breakfast a visit to the chaplain and briefings by intelligence and weather officers, the crews manned their bombers and began the dangerous takeoff procedure. One by one the big ships rumbled down the runway in the lightening gloom, slowly lifted off and vanished into the clouds.



On emerging above the cloud deck in brilliant sunshine, the group’s 17 B-24s assembled in combat formation behind their leader. Then they joined the other groups in the strike force of 293 heavy bombers and set a course for Germany, climbing slowly to their assigned altitude.









As the long bomber stream passed over Holland, escorting American fighter planes weaved white condensation trails in the deep blue sky thousands of feet above the formation, a reassuring sight. But, soon, they reached the limit of their range and turned back to Britain. The bombers were immediately attacked by German fighter planes. The bombers’ defensive guns opened fire and a running battle ensued. Iron Ass remained unscathed but as the formation neared the target at Solingen, Germany, the propeller on the number three engine suddenly ran away and was quickly shut down. Now, the heavily loaded plane, unable to maintain formation, began to slow down, lose altitude, and fall behind.



Alone and deep in Germany at 23,000 feet, the crew was in danger. As they fell away from the formation, another crippled B-24D pulled in close for mutual protection. Gruber could see a lovely pinup girl painted on its fuselage and read her name: Nana. “I vividly remember the plane’s name…” he wrote later, “…how could I forget it ?” Enemy fighters pounced on, Nana, sending her down in flames as the crew of, Iron Ass, watched in horror as ten fellow airmen were incinerated.



Now it was their turn. The fighters made overhead diving head on passes and rear attacks. The ship shook from the impact of 20 mm. explosive shells and the vibrations from her own guns as the crew fought for their lives. Tail gunner Sgt. Harry Byerman kept firing his twin 50 caliber machine guns until he was shot and killed by a german fighter that shredded the airplane's tail. Also, the waist gunner was wounded in his leg.



In the cockpit, Gruber and "Ketch" fought to control the ship. A shell exploded in the left wing, peeling the aluminum skin right off the top of it. Another fighter destroyed the left inboard engine. Ketch’s window imploded, scattering metal and plexiglass fragments into the cockpit. Now, down to 18,000 feet, Gruber knew it was time to get out and fight another day. With a swiftness born of instinct, Gruber grabbed his chest pack chute, ripped his oxygen mask and intercom connections from their pedistal sockets and squeezed down into the bomb bay, the only exit. More bad luck. He had left the bomb bay doors closed, and he was trapped.



Fumbling in the subzero darkness, somehow, he found and pulled the bomb bay doors' emergency lever. The big doors slowly rolled open, revealing solid white cloud far below. Looking up into the cockpit he saw "Ketch" grab and don his own chute. Then he pushed off into empty sky.



The 160 mph slipstream slammed him hard, as he pulled his D-ring, opening the chute, and knocking the wind out of him. Suddenly, all was quiet. Gone were the roaring engines, the men screaming on the intercom, and blastingof the guns. Gruber hung suspended in space over a white solid cloud deck three miles down.



The crippled bomber, with two propellers on only two of its four engines still turning, began the long, slow fall into Germany, harried by the pursuing German fighters. Then, it disappeared into the cloud bank.



As Gruber came out beneath the clouds, a snowy landscape rushed up to greet him. He hit with tremendous impact, fracturing an ankle. Though hobbled, he managed to escape capture until he emerged into an open field, face to face with an irate German civilian who aimed a shotgun at him. His “Hands-up!” order in German needed no translation.



Gruber’s flight mates were also captured, and the group was sent to Stalag 1, a prisoner compound of barracks surrounded by barbed wire fences and towers. Finally, in the last days of the war, they were liberated by Russian troops who kept them prisoner until a U.S. Army medical team arrived with news that they would be airlifted out in U.S. aircraft. A month later, after a slow transatlantic crossing on a Victory ship, the freed prisoners saw an unforgettable sight loom on the horizon, the Statue of Liberty !



Clinton Gruber still keeps a piece of shrapnel and piece of the bomber he was piloting when he was shot down in Germany.