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BAILOUT!: FROM HITTING THE SILK TO PULLING THE HANDLE

Flight Journal, Feb 2004 by Tillman, Barrett

IT WAS THE 303RD BOMB GROUP'S NINTH MISSION. ON JANUARY 3, 1943, the group contributed 14 of the 8th Air Force's 68 bombers that attacked the German submarine base at St. Nazaire, France. Seven planes were lost, including four from the 303rd. One of the missing aircraft was a B-17F named Snap! Crackle! Pop!, which was set afire by German flak and then exploded. Three men were blown out of the Boeing. Only two had parachutes.

Ball turret gunner Staff Sgt. Alan E. Magee's chute was shredded by flak. He was looking for a spare chute, standing near the bomb bay, when he was ejected into space. From 20,000 feet, he plummeted toward the ground, asking God to spare him. Then he passed out.

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Magee regained consciousness surrounded by men speaking German. One of his arms was badly mangled and he had other injuries. A sympathetic German army doctor told Magee that although they were enemies, as a doctor he would do his best to save the American's arm. He was true to his word. Sadly, Magee never learned the surgeon's name.

How Magee survived his four-mile fall was another matter entirely. By sheer coincidence, he made a bull's-eye landing on the skylight of St. Nazaire's train station. The shattering glass slowed his descent, and he fell to the floor. It was enough of a drop to kill a man.

Fifty-two years later, Alan Magee and his wife, Helen, dedicated a plaque to the seven crewmen who died in Snap! Crackle! Pop! The citizens of St. Nazaire still pay tribute to the American airmen who lost their lives liberating France; no one can forget Alan Magee's providential survival-surely an answered prayer.

Falling through space without a parachute-or with a failed chute-is too horrifying to contemplate. Such falls usually start at high altitude, so the descent offers enough time-occasionally as long as two minutesto think about the horrible impact. Accelerating at 32fps (feet per second) per second, humans reach terminal velocity at between 110 and 120mph, depending on weight and body position. Some lose consciousness as they fall but not because of gravity's acceleration. Some skydivers relish the sensation and don't suffer ill effects, especially if they have two parachutes-and therein lies the difference. Those who somehow survive a fall seldom recall the shattering moment of collision with earth or sea.

Emergency parachutes date from France in the 1780s, and in the U.S., their aviation use was proven in 1912. Despite their life-saving potential, during WWI, only Germany issued chutes to aircrew; the most common usage was by balloon observers. The American record for emergency parachute jumps is probably still held by Lt. Glen Phelps, who bailed out of five balloons under enemy attack during 1918.

¼ combat survival

Tens of thousands of lives have been saved by parachutes: the exact number is unknowable. But the survival of some fliers, such as Alan Magee, defies explanation. Among the most notable survivals was that of Soviet Lt. I.M. Chisov, whose Ilyushin Il-4 bomber was shot down in January 1942. After falling nearly 22,000 feet, Chisov hit the edge of a snowy ravine and rolled to the bottom. Though badly injured, he recovered.

Two years later, German night fighters near Berlin shot down RAF Flight Sgt. Nicholas Alkemade's Lancaster. When the bailout order came, tail gunner Alkemade looked around to find his stowed parachute afire. He chose to jump rather than burn and rolled out of the turret. He fell 18,000 feet, crashing through trees, underbrush and drifted snow. Other than a twisted knee and some cuts, he was safe.

Another Bomber Command flier was even luckier, according to RAF historian Chaz Bowyer. In November 1944, Handley-Page Halifaxes of No. 466 Squadron, Royal Australian Air Force, attacked targets in Germany's industrial heartland, the Ruhr Valley. Flight Lt. Joe Herman, who turned westward toward Britain after the bomb run, flew one of them. While descending through 18,000 feet, however, the plane took three direct hits. With his plane afire almost from wingtip to wingtip, Herman called for a bailout.

The upper gunner, Flight Sgt. John Vivash, was going overboard when he saw Herman reach for a chute. Then the bomber exploded. Vivash was flung into the dark night and opened his chute. Moments later, as he descended swinging beneath the canopy, he felt a bump and noted an increased descent. he called out, unable to see much in the darkness. A familiar voice responded; Vivash was astonished. "Is that you, Joe?"

"Yes, but I haven't got a chute. I seem to have bumped into you on my way down."

After having fallen from about 17,000 feet, Herman had miraculously collided with the gunner and, equally miraculous, had been able to hold on to him, literally for dear life. With twice the normal weight on the canopy, their landing was unusually hard. Herman suffered two broken ribs, but despite their injuries, the two Aussies were ambulatory. They spent four days walking toward presumed safety in Holland before the Germans captured them. Following six months in a POW camp, they returned to Australia.

BAILOUT!: FROM HITTING THE SILK TO PULLING THE HANDLE

Flight Journal, Feb 2004 by Tillman, Barrett

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