CONDE WORLD WAR II VET RECOUNTS
EXPERIENCES BEHIND ENEMY LINES
By Leroy (Rosy) Funk
Leroy (Rosy) Funk, the son of Frank and Kathryn Funk, was born and raised in Conde, SD. He and his wife Delores lived in Montevideo, Minn. Rosy enlisted in the United States Air force in 1942. He was discharged in November of 1945. During the service to his country, he earned the Air Medal with four Oak Leaves, the Purple Heart, Silver Wings, and Good Conduct and Campaign Ribbons. He Died October 1996.
What follows is an account of Rosy Funk’s World War II experiences written down by him in a journal. It makes good reading anytime, and especially around Memorial Day.
So, you want to read a story and you want it to be true too?
First, I will tell you about a couple of raids I was on . . .
July 10, 1943 at 22,000 feet
I was alerted the night before and was awakened at 5:00 a.m. At a briefing we were told we were supposed to bomb a German Fighter Factory in Oscherslieben. We took off about 6:00 a.m. and flew straight north over the North Sea. There were eighteen planes in our group, and we joined up with five other groups. We flew straight east and then south outside of Helegoland, and then turned and flew straight east again. All the time, flak was coming up from every where. Over Oscherslieben, we bombed our target, and then fighters hit us with more flak. The fighters blew us apart, and we were all over the sky. No formation or anything. All at once, my crew and I realized we were alone. So, we headed back to England, taking evasive action all the way back. The flak was accurate, but when we jogged right the flak they came up on our left and vice versa. I sure was glad to see the English Channel. Back at the base, I walked into our barracks and found that my crew And one other were the only ones were there from our bomb group. Of eighteen bomber crews, only seven came back. I knew then that it was just a matter of whose turn was next. We were supposed to make 25 raids on our tour of duty and then go home, but I only know of one crew that made it. They were Caption Snow and his crew. He always pissed on the tail wheel before he took off. I guess we all should have tried the same thing. I saw them after I made it back to England after being shot down.
August 6, 1943 at 24,000 feet -- My Birthday
Took off after briefing at 5:30 a.m. I was manning the upper turret this time with two 50 calibers. Our target was Hamburg, some kind of factory there. I think it was parts for Luftwaaft fighters. We had our full force of eighteen bombers, our bomb group plus 180 more bombers from the 95th. Flew north over the North Sea, east and then south. Left Denmark then flew straight into Germany and came over Hamburg. I don’t remember where our initial point was, just somewhere in Germany. Then we took an abrupt turn east and came over Hamburg which was all clouded over so we couldn’t bomb. Our alternative target was the sub pens of Keil. While we were over Hamburg, there were five or six hundred fighters that hit us, just like a beehive. Any place you looked out, you could shoot at one. Shell casings were three to four inches deep at my feet, and I had to reload twice. They followed us, attacking all the way, to Keil. Over Keil, the fighters left us, and we bombed the sub pens. At this time, the flak was coming up so thick that I think you could have walked on it. During this time, I was looking out the upper turret and saw our right-wing man blown up from a flak shell. I turned away and saw that our left-wing man had caught fir. The #3 and #4 engines were gone, so down they went. What a hell of a way to go. No matter where you looked, there was a fighter or bomber going down. Over Keil, more fighters hit us again and more bombers went down.
Finally, we made it back to England. In the barracks that night, we were the only ones there. We were the only one of the eighteen bomb crews that survived the whole trip. Three crews made it home later, but that night, we were the ones in the barracks. What a hell of a feeling. We all knew that it was just a matter of time until it was our turn next. We always lost planes on any raid, but Keil was the worst. Over Keil, we lost 68 bombers, that’s 680 men, and I’ll never forget Keil or what happened to those 680 buddies. We spent the next day flying over the North Sea at wave top levels looking for survivors, either in life rafts or Mae Wests (Life Jackets) but never saw any. We lost 60 plus bombers on this raid, 600 or more men, all in one day. I figured my crew, and I were getting lucky, (Ha HA) We bombed Schweinfurt twice, Frankfort twice, Lillie (a fighter base in France) once and the sub-pens in Tronheim, Norway. For this my wife has never forgiven me because her ancestors were from Trondheim. Te rest I have forgotten.
5 Miles Over Germany Raid #13 August 17, 1943
I was awakened at 4:30 a.m. We were told to dress in Class A uniforms under our flight suits and to wear our arms (45 Caliber Pistols). We went to breakfast of rotten powdered eggs and beans and then to a briefing room. There we learned that we were to bomb a ball bearing factory at Regensburg in the southern part of Germany on what was said to be a first shuttle mission. We were to bomb the ball bearing plant in Tegenburg and then to fly on to Marrikesh, French Morocco, Africa. There we were to load up with bombs and fly back to England. But first we had to raid another target on the way back.
We rendezvoused over England with about 600 bombers. My crew and I were at 27000 or 28000 feet when we caught up with the formation. We were told at briefings that if we got hit to count to 100 before pulling the rip cord. If we pulled it sooner, we were liable to drop into the bombers behind and below us and we certainly didn’t want to hit their props. At 8:40 a.m., all the planes were in formation, so we started for the enemy coast. There our fighters left us because their fuel supply was running short, and they had to return to England.
At 9:30 a.m., we saw Antwerp and the coastline go by below. Flak was coming up but not heavy. Saw two planes hit but not from our echelon. Then the Flokwolfe and ME-190 hit us. There must have been hundreds of them, I really don’t know. I do know that my guns (50 Cal.) were hot, and I had to reload twice. About 10 a.m., I was firing at fighters when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Carlone, our radio man, was trying to get my attention. So, I turned around and saw him. He was bleeding out of a wound on his head and pointing to the radio room. It was then that I saw the fire. The fire was coming from the back of the bomb bay about three feet from where I stood. An incendiary shell was lying on the radio room floor on top of our oxygen tank. I had been hit too from a piece of shell, a fragment of a 20 ml shell from the nose cannon of FW-190. I really didn’t notice it too much until I opened my chute on the way down. When the chute opened with a jerk, it jammed the fragment into my hinder. Anyway, our pilot said to wait until he could get out of formation before we jumped. I kicked out the escape hatch door and waited on the intercom for the word to go. I helped Carlone on with his chute and tried to wipe some of the blood off his face. It was freezing as fast as it came out. The pilot came through with the orders to jump. I jumped and everyone else did, except Carlone. I never heard whether he went down by chute or exploded with the plane. No trace of him has ever been found. The pilot said the plane exploded about 30 seconds after he jumped.
11: a.m. my chute opened with a jerk, and I found myself three or four miles above the ground. I looked up and really couldn’t see how that handkerchief was going to hold me up there. It seemed like it took hours for me to come down, and I was looking straight at a barbed wire fence. I picked up my feet and skimmed over it and hit the ground like a ton of bricks. They told me later that it’s like jumping off a 20-foot roof. I do know it was quite a jolt. I hit the release knob, and the wind took the chute and harness off of me and then collapsed. The first order of business was to bury or hide the chute and then run for cover. I was buzzed twice on the way down by a ME-109, so the enemy patrol on the ground would see and could pick me up. I ran into a small clump of trees where I hid my chute with leaves and trash and then walked up on top of a small knoll or hill.
While still in the trees, I stopped to catch my breath and didn’t see any patrols or anything. But I could hear them somewhere to the west of me. I walked to the top of the knoll and heard someone speaking in English. Looking to my right, there stood a quisling telling me to lay down my 45 (I had it drawn by then). He told me to just throw away my gun, and he would go get a patrol. He told me I had nothing to fear, just behave myself and I would be a POW from there until the war had ended. I didn’t throw away my gun so this traitor with his arms over his head started to leave and told me to just wait there. There were four or five other people there too. When he left, I waited about five minutes and then took off running for the southwest in the trees for as long as I could run. By then, I was getting really warm, so I buried my flight suit and kept on running.
At all of our briefings we were always told to contact the French underground if we wanted help in escaping. I don’t know how far I ran, but I was awfully tired when I came to a cornfield with a ditch running through it. So, I decided to wade through the ditch to throw off the German dogs that I could hear off to my right. The water was about six inches to two feet deep. So, when I got about halfway through the ditch that had a cornfield on both sides, I figured that would be a good place to rest. So, I wiggled back a few rows in the corn and, exhausted, I fell asleep. I could still hear the German patrols and the dogs looking for me. I slept until about 1:00 or 2:00 a. m. Then I got up and waded through the rest of the ditch and started to run on my way again, always heading southeast because I knew that’s where France was and possibly some help to get myself out of there. I took off for the southwest again about 7 a.m. I heard the dogs barking but figured they were farm dogs. I came out of a clump of trees and ran into a herd of milk cows coming down to water in the same creek that I had followed. There was a man behind them. He threw up his hands and spoke to me in Flemish. I couldn’t understand him but didn’t pull my 45. He finally made me understand that he would be back by 8 a.m. and that I could go to his home and schlapp and essen (eat and sleep). So, I sat down by a tree. 8 a.m. came and he hadn’t come back, so I took off again for France.
I came to a road (country lane) with bushes in the ditch. I was tired again, so I decided to rest for a while. I hid in the bushes to catch my breath, and I heard a swish, swish, swish. When I peeked out of the bushes through a fence, there was a farmer cutting grain with a scythe and a cradle. He sure could use it too. I waited till he was back to the other side of the field, and I started out again. I found another clump of bushes and stayed there till about dark. Then I took off until I came to a crossroad where there was a farm on the northeast corner and on the southeast too, I think. There was a straw pile next to a shed. So, I waited till dark and ran to it thinking it would be a good place to rest. There was a garden there, so I helped myself to some vegetables. I don’t know what they were, but when you are hungry, you can eat anything. (I had used up my escape rations yesterday.) I crawled into the straw and covered myself up with some and was just about to go to sleep when I heard an ung, ung, behind me. I felt back and found a woven wire fence. After finding the fence, I felt a little farther back and felt hair… I wondered what the hell I was next to. Then I realized it must be a pig nursing her young because the ung, ung kept up. So that old sow and I spent a warm cozy night together. The straw shed was a hog shed, I guess. Oh, I forgot to mention, I pulled that piece of shrapnel out of my butt in the corn field last night. It bled quite a little but sure felt better. It quit bleeding and scabbed over while I was in the straw stack. The shrapnel was about as round as a lead pencil and about 11/2 inches long.
August 19th, 1943
I didn’t really fall asleep until midnight or 1:00 a.m. I woke up about 10:00 a.m. and heard kids playing. I pushed some straw aside and saw two little kids about three to five playing in the yard. The sun was coming up higher, and my bed was getting warmer by the hour. But I couldn’t leave because of the children. Finally, about noon, they were called into the house. I waited till about 1 p.m. and was about to make a run for the road ditch which also had bushes in it. But then I saw an old lady on a bicycle ride one way down the road and then ride back again. She made several trips. So about 4 p.m., I decided to make a run for it. When she rode east, I ran for the road ditch. I lay in the bushes until she had been by three or four times. Then I figured I had just as well take my chances now. So, when she stopped east of me and turned to come back, I stood up on the roadside. She saw me and just waved at me to get down in the ditch, so I did. She stopped where I was hiding and talked to me in Flemish. I still couldn’t understand Flemish, but she made me understand that she would be back by 6 p.m. with essens (eats) and for me to stay in the bushes. At 6 p.m., she came back and acted like she was fixing her bike and set a sack down on the edge of the road. Then she made me understand she would be back by 8 p.m. with someone else. I didn’t know if she was a friend or not, but I had taken my chance for better or worse. There was a really good sandwich and a glass of milk in the sack that she left. I was damn hungry too. At 8 p.m., this old lady came back with a man who could speak English. He calmed me down and told me to just follow him and everything would be okay. So, I followed him about two miles down the road going east. I thanked the old lady as best I could (Danka in German) and she smiled and took my hand.
This man was a forester, so he hid me in a grove of trees and told me to stay there and he would be back a little later. I guess it was about 9:30 p.m. when he came back with a sandwich and two of the best bottles of beer I have drank in my life. Again, he told me to “wait here. I have some arrangements to make.” He said that he would be back about 11:30 p.m. It’s pretty lonesome to be sitting out there not knowing where in the hell you are or what’s going to happen next. I waited till about 11:00 or 11:30 p.m. He came back and said, “Just follow me”.
After walking about three of four miles, we came to a little town of Pooderlie where we went in through the back streets. Then he stopped at a house and knocked. A Catholic priest came to the door. We talked some and then the forester left. The priest lived there with two old sisters. I believe they were his sisters. One of the sisters took me by the arm into another room where there was the most beautiful roast chicken dinner I have ever seen. I was awfully hungry. After I had stuffed myself, this old lady told me, “You must schlappen.” So upstairs to a bedroom I went. She told me good night and sleep good in German {Gutten nacht and schlappen gutt). I just took off my clothes and fell into a feather tick. Boy did I sleep! The forester told me before he left that he would be back in the morning with a friend and to be ready to go at 9 a.m. He said that he would bring me a change of clothes. You must realize by now that I never heard any names. I guess some of the people that helped me didn’t want me to know their names because if I was caught and happened to mention their names, The Gestapo would hunt them down and, of course, exterminate them or at least imprison them.
August 20, 1943
At 8:00 a.m., the old lady woke me up and showed me the time. I got up and went downstairs where she insisted that I eat eggs and some kind of pancake. It sure was good. At 9:00, the forester showed up with another man who said, “From here on just follow me as I say.” I knew he spoke English by the way he talked but didn’t know until I got back to England that he was an English counterspy. The forester had swiped (or borrowed) clothes off a clothesline the night before and presented me with a pair of black pants, a gray shirt and a black jacket and cap. He told me to change into them which I did. As fast as I took off my uniform, the old ladies were burying them out in the garden. One of them took my wings and by motion asked if she could keep them. I nodded yes and she smiled. I don’t know if she kept them or not. About 9:15, the forester said goodbye and for me to go with the other man. The other man said, “Follow me, but from now on keep behind me. Walk on the other side of the street if we are in town. Go where I go, but don’t contact me in any way unless I signal to you and never speak to me unless I speak first.”
We left the rectory and walked right down the main street of the town, turned left and walked up another road. We came to an estate, went through the main gate and up to the big house. A lady came to the door, they talked and then the Englishman took me to a tool shed where there was a cot with blankets. He said, “You can sleep here at night, but don’t come down here till after dark. You must be up in the grove of bushes and trees by daylight.” The bushes were up by the gate that we came in on were on kind of a side hill. He said, “Keep yourself hidden during the day.” because there was some traffic on the road. He said there would be a boy who would come to see me that evening and would explain more. Then he left me in the grove of trees and said, “Stay here until I contact you.” I was there for six days and nights.
That evening a young fellow about 14 came up into grove from the house. He sat down and said “hello” just like that. He could speak surprisingly good English and told me I must stay in the trees out of sight during the daytime. He told me he had two younger sisters and that twice a day one of them or he would leave something to eat and some water on the downhill side near the house. If I had to go to the biffy, I must do it in the trees as there was no biffy in the tool house. He said there would always be some paper in my lunch sack (a little embarrassing but when you have to you have to). Anyway, I made it work, and this young man was the only one I ever heard from since that time. How he got my name and address I’ll never know. I got a letter from him about 1947 or 1948, but I lost it much to my regret. I wish I could contact all the people that helped me, but as I told you, no names were exchanged. Now how do I do it?
August 26th or 27th, 1943
This young man came down to the tool house about 6 a.m. with a bowl of water and a razor. No soap because that was almost impossible for them to get. He tried to apologize but no one could help it. He left but told me the English spy (lets call him Sam from now on) would be by the gate where I came in about 9: a.m. Sam was there right on the dot and said, “Just follow me as I told you.” He crossed the street and started going west, so I followed as he told me to do. We walked about ten or twelve miles, and every so often, other people would join us going the same way. Whenever anyone had to relieve them selves, man, woman, or child, they just went off the road and did their job. Nobody paid any attention to them, except me.
About 11:00 or 12:00, we came to where a railroad crossed the road we were walking on. Everyone waited, and in a few minutes, a local train stopped, and everyone got on. Sam had furnished me with a ticket or passbook in Poodlie. We rode for two hours at a speed of 20 to 25 miles per hour. At every crossroad, we took on more passengers and I guess some freight. We got off the train with about 12 to 15 other people and again we walked for two or three hours southwest until we came to another train. I got on with Sam and rode until six or seven p.m. Got off the train and walked into Mattnes, Belgium. getting there about dusk. We walked into town and down streets until we finally stopped at a house. Sam was on the other side of the street and he signaled me to stop. So, I waited while Sam went through a gate and up to the house. About five minutes later, Sam came out and motioned me to come on in. Sam told me I was to stay there until he contacted me. The owner of the house was a small man, and he never said a word to me, just motioned for me to follow him. Sam motioned okay for me to follow him and then left. This little man took me up two flights of stairs into an attic through a crawl way in the door. Then he said, “You must stay in this room until I let you know” There was a bed and a pot in there, that’s all. He told me things would be okay but to use the pot and he would take care of everything but that I must stay in that room. He left a sandwich and a bottle of water and then went out shutting the door behind him. I went to sleep. It wasn’t a particularly good bed, but when you are tired and scared, anything is good. I sure said my prayers again that night. I stayed in that room for the next six or seven days. It sure got smelly!
The morning after I got to this place it must have been August 28th. I got up and heard some noise outside. There I saw a German training crew outside on the street in front. That was same street that I came in the night before. I found out later they had a garrison about a half mile from where I was hiding. There were two little kids in the yard. I could see them from my attic window. They were the little man’s children. All the time I was in their house, they never saw or knew about me, and I never saw his wife. Of course, she knew I was there because twice every day the man would bring me water and something to eat and take my pot and dispose of it. Usually every other day, he would bring me some hot water and soap so I could shave. He left me to clean up the best way I could. He even took my clothes one day, and I guess it must have been his wife who washed them. Then he brought them back to me that evening. My room was about nine feet by ten feet with a ceiling about seven feet at the most. But I was grateful, and I wish I knew his name. I think I was in that room a week. I really don’t know how long.
September 2nd or 3rd 1943
The little man came up last night and told me to be ready to leave next morning by 10 a.m. I’ll bet he was glad to get rid of me. So next morning at ten, Sam was up to my room and said, “I’ll bet you don’t know what is going on,” and I said that I didn’t. As we walked down the first flight of stairs, Sam must have pushed a button or something and a whole wall moved back and there were carrier pigeons, about a dozen. Sam told me that the little man collected microfilm of German installations and sent them back to England by carrier pigeon. How could I have been there for a week and never heard them? Just think this man, his wife, and two children, what a chance they took having me there! God bless them. I will never forget them. But I still don’t know their names, and how I wish I did. Sam said, “Wait until I am across the street and then follow me.” So, when he signaled, I left the house and followed per instructions. I walked right by the German unit headquarters. There were sentries on the sidewalk, but they never said anything to me. So, I just walked by shaking in my boots, but nothing happened. Sam was on the other side of the street and we walked for about an hour.
We came to a railroad station on the outskirts of town and got on a train. We rode that train about two hours. Sam got off and so did I. We walked ten miles and then we walked a little further, maybe a couple miles, and boarded another local train. Rode that train right into Brussels, got off and followed Sam for about an hour through side streets. We came to a house, Sam knocked, and I waited. A man came to the door (it was getting dark), they talked for a while and then Sam signaled to me. I went in and Sam told me what I must do. So again, I walked up one flight of stairs and into an attic. Sam said I couldn’t come down except to use the bathroom unless the man told me to or signaled I could. He had a wife and two daughters living there. The girls were about ten or twelve, and they all knew I was there. I guess they figured I was supposed to be there. This man always signaled to me twice a day for meals. I didn’t stay long, ate, and went back up the stairs. He gave me a towel and I took a bath.
The first night, his wife took my clothes and washed them. The next morning, they were in the bathroom, so I never had to be without them. The next day, the man handed me a piece of paper with a bunch of questions on it. I answered the questions and handed it back to him. They were all in English. The one question I remember most was, “What do you call a can?” Well, there are several answers, but the final answer I put on was an outdoor privy or an outhouse. I guess the answers must have done the trick because everyone was much friendlier after that. I was with them five more days after I answered those questions. The second evening I was there, this man called me down. He, his family, and I played monopoly. It was a board game with English lettering, and I was surprised to say the least. Then this man started to talk to me in English and surprised me even more. You can see how careful they had to be. Even the girls and his wife knew some words of English. So, you see, to some extent my stay with them was really enjoyable. I was still scared but thankful. Sure wish I knew their names. Two nights later, the man took me to a Catholic church. I think we knelt down and the women in front of me opened their prayer book. There was a message in English for me. I was supposed to meet Sam the next morning at 10 a.m. But if he wasn’t there, I was to walk south and meet him two or three blocks down where he would be waiting across the street.
He was waiting on the street outside of this home the next morning. He gave me a false passport and a train pass and said, “We should be in France the tomorrow.” Then he took my dog tags because you can’t have them on you with a false ID. Then I knew what these other people were going through, to get caught would be terrible for them. I didn’t know what could happen to them. Sam said, “I’ll see you down at on that corner (and he pointed it out) at 10 a.m. and don’t be late.” The man of the house got me up at 7 a. m. (I was already awake). He handed me a straight edge razor. so down to the bathroom I went and shaved. I cut myself six or seven times, especially under my nose. I went on down to their front room, and you should have heard them laugh. By this time, they knew I was what I as supposed to be. With a false passport written in French, I was known as Lerois François, Louis, a deaf and dumb waiter from then on. Sam told me the night before to act the part or else. We had some kind of breakfast, and about 10 a.m., I walked out the door. The lady handed me a brown paper bag. I didn’t know what was in it, but she made me understand that I should take it with me. I walked out and down the street a ways and saw Sam standing across the street. He started walking, and I followed as per instructions. We walked, I think, about halfway through Brussels. About an hour later, we came to a main depot and boarded a train, but not before I had I had been checked by a German sentry as to passport and ticket I was shivering in my boots, but he never asked me any questions. I did just what everyone else was doing. I showed my passport and ticket. Watched Sam get on a railroad car, and I got on the other end. I saw Sam sitting in a compartment, so I sat down in the one next to it. We must have ridden for two hours when Sam signaled me and got off. I did the same.
Sam walked down the road. We were now away from the crossing and depot when Sam said, “We have to camp out tonight did you bring the paper sack?” I still had it, so we stopped by the side of the road. Sam took the sack and inside were four meat sandwiches. Sam told me that the meat in those sandwiches was the weekly meat rations for that family in Brussels where I had stayed. It was 30Cs per week per person, and they had given it all to me. I just couldn’t believe they had given it all to me. I just couldn’t believe they cared so much. I cried but Sam calmed me down, and I finally ate one sandwich. Never will I forget those people and what they had done for me. We slept on the ground that night and the next morning started walking again. We walked all day I would guess 20 to 30 miles and then we stopped at a farm. Sam talked to this man and then Sam said, “We can sleep in the barn tonight.” After we fell into a pile of hay, Sam said most of our worries were over and that we were now in France. We split and ate the last sandwich then I fell asleep. Boy was I tired.
September 4th or 5th 1943
Next morning, we took off and walked about four miles. We came to a weigh station and boarded another train after being checked by the sentries again. We rode straight into Paris and into the main railroad station. Sam got off and I did too. Then I noticed another man who seemed to keep pretty close to Sam. After we walked away from the station and down a street, Sam stopped and signaled me to come over. The other man joined us, and Sam explained that he had been shot down the same day I was, and he was just another GI. No names, of course, were exchanged. So, we resumed our walk-through Paris. This guy stayed about 100 feet behind Sam and me, on the other side as usual. We walked for about an hour I guess and came to an apartment building. Sam went in and signaled for us to wait. About 15 minutes later Sam came out and said, “Follow me, but have your passports ready.” We went in, were checked by German sentries, and went up to the 3rd or 4th floor. Sam knocked on a door and a man came to let us in. He showed me and the other guy a bedroom and where the bathroom was down the hall. We did have a pot in the room, and Sam said we could use that and take as few chances as we could by using the bathroom. We were there for two days and nights. The man and his wife saw to it that we had food, and he would dump our pot every morning. We never conversed much because I was supposed to be deaf and dumb, so they spoke mostly French. The other guy was just as scared as I was, so it was a pretty silent two days. Sam came by and said that we would be leaving at 9 a.m. and to just follow the instructions as before.
September 6, 1943
Left the apartment about 9:30 a.m. following Sam. Walked for about an hour and came to a railroad station. Sam got on and this other guy got on too, but we were checked by German sentries. On this train, they had compartments on one side and aisles on the other where you walked to find your seat. There were so many people boarding that when I got on, all the seats were taken, and the aisle was taken too. So, I just turned around and leaned out the window. A German officer bumped me and leaned out the other side of the same window. He said something in German, and I didn’t understand him, so I just said, “Ja.” I was supposed to be deaf and dumb, so I didn’t know what to expect next. But that was all that happened. We rode like that for an hour and a half till we came to a town. Sam got off and so did I and the other guy. Sam started down the street onto a country road. By now there were two more guys following Sam, and I wondered what the hell was next. Sam stopped when we were out of town and told me and the other guy that the new guy had been shot down about two weeks before we were. We were glad to see two more, and now with Sam, there were five of us. We walked up to a farm and Sam made arrangements somehow. Anyway, we stayed in a shed there and made to do as best we could. Sam left and came back about 6 or 7 with some food and three bottles of wine. In our escape kits, we each had 2000 Francs which we turned over to Sam. That must have been the money he used to make the arrangements. I don’t know how else he could have done it. We stayed in that shed for one night and that night a farmer drove in and unloaded five bicycles, so I knew what was coming. The farmer brought the bicycles in under a load of hay. Sam came through again with some food and wine and the farmer we stayed with brought in a kettle of soup of some kind. It sure was good, especially when you are hungry. I wish I could thank those people.
September 7, 1943
We started off in the morning on our bicycles and Sam said, “Stay about 100 yards apart so we don’t look like a crew together.” We traveled down the main road that Sam said would bring us to Bordeaux in a few days. Before we left, Sam put some salve and a big bandage on my hinder. That sure helped, and he fixed it every night from then on until we got to Spain. I don’t know how far we traveled, but it was all day. About 4 p.m., Sam took off up a side road for about a half mile and that is where we spent the night. Sam produced some eats and a jug of water, so we didn’t suffer. After we settled in a grove of trees, Sam took off and came back a little while later. How the hell he knew where to go and how he did what he did will always be a mystery to me. But I am sure am glad we had a man like that in charge. We stayed in the woods one night and took off in the morning.
Next morning, we took off and walked about four miles. We came to a weigh station and boarded another train after being checked by the sentries again. We rode straight into Paris and into the main railroad station. Sam got off and I did too. Then I noticed another man who seemed to keep pretty close to Sam. After we walked away from the station and down a street, Sam stopped and signaled me to come over. The other man joined us, and Sam explained that he had been shot down the same day I was, and he was just another GI. No names, of course, were exchanged. So, we resumed our walk-through Paris. This guy stayed about 100 feet behind Sam and me, on the other side as usual. We walked for about an hour I guess and came to an apartment building. Sam went in and signaled for us to wait. About 15 minutes later Sam came out and said, “Follow me, but have your passports ready.” We went in, were checked by German sentries, and went up to the 3rd or 4th floor. Sam knocked on a door and a man came to let us in. He showed me and the other guy a bedroom and where the bathroom was down the hall. We did have a pot in the room, and Sam said we could use that and take as few chances as we could by using the bathroom. We were there for two days and nights. The man and his wife saw to it that we had food, and he would dump our pot every morning. We never conversed much because I was supposed to be deaf and dumb, so they spoke mostly French. The other guy just was as scared as I was, so it was a pretty silent two days. Sam came by and said that we would be leaving at 9:00 a.m. and to just follow the instructions as before.
September 6, 1943
Left the apartment about 9:30 a.m. following Sam. Walked for about an hour and came to a railroad station. Sam got on and this other guy got on too. But we were checked by German sentries. On this train, they had compartments on one side and aisles on the other where you walked to find your seat. There were so many people boarding that when I got on, all the seats were taken, and the aisle was taken too. So, I just turned around and leaned out the window. A German officer bumped me and leaned out the other side of the same window. He said something in German, and I didn’t understand him, so I just said, “Ja.” I was supposed to be deaf and dumb, so I didn’t know what to expect next. But that was all that happened. We rode like that for an hour and a half till we came to a town. Sam got off and so did I and the other guy. Sam started down the street onto a country road. By now there were two more guys following Sam, and I wondered what the hell was next. Sam stopped when we were out of town and told me and the other guy that the new guy had been shot down about two weeks before we were. We were glad to see two more and now with Sam there were five of us. We walked up to a farm and Sam made arrangements somehow. Anyway, we stayed in a shed there and made to do as best we could. Sam left and came back about 6 or 7 with some food and three bottles of wine. In our escape kits, we each had 2000 Francs which we turned over to Sam. That must have been the money he used to make the arrangements. I don’t know how else he could have done it. We stayed in that shed for one night and that night a farmer drove in and unloaded five bicycles, so I knew what was coming. The farmer brought the bicycles in under a load of hay. Sam came through again with some food and wine and the farmer we stayed with brought in a kettle of soup of some kind. It sure was good, especially when you are hungry. I wish I could thank those people.
September 7, 1943
We started off in the morning on our bicycles and Sam said, “Stay about 100 yards apart so we don’t look like a crew together.” We traveled down the main road that Sam said would bring us to Bordeaux in a few days. Before we left, Sam put some salve and a big bandage on my hinder. That sure helped, and he fixed it every night from then on until we got to Spain. I don’t know how far we traveled but it was all day. About 4:00 p.m., Sam took off up a side road for about a half mile and that is where we spent the night. Sam produced some eats and a jug of water, so we didn’t suffer. After we settled in a grove of trees, Sam took off and came back a little while later. How the hell he knew where to go and how he did what he did will always be a mystery to me. But I am sure am glad we had a man like that in charge. We stayed in the woods one night and took off in the morning.
September 4th or 5th 1943
Next morning, we took off and walked about four miles. We came to a weigh station and boarded another train after being checked by the sentries again. We rode straight into Paris and into the main railroad station. Sam got off and I did too. Then I noticed another man who seemed to keep pretty close to Sam. After we walked away from the station and down a street, Sam stopped and signaled me to come over. The other man joined us, and Sam explained that he had been shot down the same day I was, and he was just another GI. No names, of course, were exchanged. So, we resumed our walk-through Paris. This guy stayed about 100 feet behind Sam and me, on the other side as usual. We walked for about an hour I guess and came to an apartment building. Sam went in and signaled for us to wait. About 15 minutes later Sam came out and said, “Follow me, but have your passports ready.” We went in, were checked by German sentries, and went up to the 3rd or 4th floor. Sam knocked on a door and a man came to let us in. He showed me and the other guy a bedroom and where the bathroom was down the hall. We did have a pot in the room, and Sam said we could use that and take as few chances as we could by using the bathroom. We were there for two days and nights. The man and his wife saw to it that we had food, and he would dump our pot every morning. We never conversed much because I was supposed to be deaf and dumb, so they spoke mostly French. The other guy just was as scared as I was, so it was a pretty silent two days. Sam came by and said that we would be leaving at 9:00 a.m. and to just follow the instructions as before.
September 6th, 1943
Left the apartment about 9:30 a.m. following Sam. Walked for about an hour and came to a railroad station. Sam got on and this other guy got on too. But we were checked by German sentries. On this train, they had compartments on one side and aisles on the other where you walked to find your seat. There were so many people boarding that when I got on, all the seats were taken, and the aisle was taken too. So, I just turned around and leaned out the window. A German officer bumped me and leaned out the other side of the same window. He said something in German, and I didn’t understand him, so I just said, “Ja.” I was supposed to be deaf and dumb, so I didn’t know what to expect next. But that was all that happened. We rode like that for an hour and a half till we came to a town. Sam got off and so did I and the other guy. Sam started down the street onto a country road. By now there were two more guys following Sam, and I wondered what the hell was next. Sam stopped when we were out of town and told me and the other guy that the new guy had been shot down about two weeks before we were. We were glad to see two more and now with Sam there were five of us. We walked up to a farm and Sam made arrangements somehow. Anyway, we stayed in a shed there and made to do as best we could. Sam left and came back about 6 or 7 with some food and three bottles of wine. In our escape kits, we each had 2000 Francs which we turned over to Sam. That must have been the money he used to make the arrangements. I don’t know how else he could have done it. We stayed in that shed for one night and that night a farmer drove in and unloaded five bicycles, so I knew what was coming. The farmer brought the bicycles in under a load of hay. Sam came through again with some food and wine and the farmer we stayed with brought in a kettle of soup of some kind. It sure was good, especially when you are hungry. I wish I could thank those people.
September 7, 1943
We started off in the morning on our bicycles and Sam said, “Stay about 100 yards apart so we don’t look like a crew together.” We traveled down the main road that Sam said would bring us to Bordeaux in a few days. Before we left, Sam put some salve and a big bandage on my hinder. That sure helped, and he fixed it every night from then on until we got to Spain. I don’t know how far we traveled but it was all day. About 4:00 p.m., Sam took off up a side road for about a half mile and that is where we spent the night. Sam produced some eats and a jug of water, so we didn’t suffer. After we settled in a grove of trees, Sam took off and came back a little while later. How the hell he knew where to go and how he did what he did will always be a mystery to me. But I am sure am glad we had a man like that in charge. We stayed in the woods one night and took off in the morning.
September 16, 1943
We took off from the Basque’s house about daylight. He took us over the hills walking until 2 p.m. Then he must have told the Frenchman and Sam where to go because he left us, and we started west. We walked till about 8 p.m. As we came over a hill, there was San Sebastian, Spain. The lights were on, and boy, did it look good. I guess we all ran most of the way down that hill into town. A Spanish gentleman who knew we were coming met us on the on the outskirts. How he knew is a mystery to me. Sam made arrangements somehow. We walked through a street that must have been a main street of some kind until we came to a big house. We went in and all of us had a bedroom for two with a bath and a place to clean up and shave. Sam told us to leave our clothes outside the door and they would be cleaned but to wash our own underwear. Boy what a treat -- hot water, soap, and three razors that we traded around. We had a good breakfast that morning and good meals all the time we were there. While we were in San Sebastian or Madrid, Sam contacted the embassy and sent word back to England that everyone was okay. That is why everyone knew I was okay before I could send word back home. I found out later that the Spanish Senor really was the English diplomat from England, but he sure spoke good Spanish. We were there three days and my hinder started to heal up pretty good, just scabbed over.
September 20, 1943
The Spanish Ambassador arranged for us to leave. So that morning, two big cars (limousines) came and picked us all up and took us to Madrid. There we were bedded down in a motel, two to a room with clean sheets and all. Sam told us we could all go to the beer joint that night. They call beer cervesa. Sam paid for the cervesa as he was the only one with any money. We were all getting pretty friendly by then but still no names. That was a no-no. After about three or four beers, I had to go to the men’s room, and I asked the Frenchman where to go. He pointed me to a door that said senor. I opened the door, and there stood about five girls with towels on their arms. One beside each urinal. I backed out, went back to the table, and gave the Frenchman hell for steering me wrong. But he convinced me that it was the right place to go. So, I went in and took a leak. But I was sure embarrassed because when I was through, the girl took me by the arm and led me over to the sink, handed me another towel and some soap, stood there while I washed and then handed me another towel. I guess I was supposed to tip her, but I didn’t have a damned thing to tip her with. I left, but I sure felt cheap because those senoritas were good lookers. We were in Madrid for three days but never did get back to any beer joints.
September 23, 1943
Two limousines picked us up at 9:00 a.m. and took us to Gibraltar where we came through the gates at about 4:00 p.m. and were dropped off at a check-in station. After our ID’s were examined, we were taken to a barracks and bedded down. Some sergeant came in and gave us the rules, meal tickets and told us not to bother the apes. There is an old saying that when the apes leave Gibraltar, England loses control too. While we were there, once in a while I could see them in the trees. We lived just about like any army camp for the next ten or twelve days on a base that was surrounded with a chain link fence.
October 4th or 5th, 1943
It was routine from here on. Left Gibraltar by British plane and landed in Marraketch, French Morocco. We stayed over there one day in some kind of army barracks, and then left about the 6th or 7th and flew back to England on a DC-4. I was sure glad to be back to what I called home at that time.
Returning Home
I think you have it all now except for a few incidentals which after 43 years I have forgotten. It was quite a trip. I got back to England in October, but I don’t remember the date anymore. Delores wants me to go on, but it won’t quite as exciting as the first part.
We landed in London at some airport; I don’t remember the name, where we were picked up by taxi (the other fellows I met in Paris and me). We were dropped off at an R&R hotel, run by either the USO or the Red Cross. I think it was the Red Cross because they charged me so much a day for room and board. I was on per diem and had back pay coming, so I didn’t mind the charge. Clean beds, meals, and a place to shower and shave, it was a real treat and privacy too. I had a room all to myself. My per diem paid all my living expenses.
A Second Lieutenant came by and told us that we would be on tour for a while, so we could tell other bomb groups (new replacement crews) how we got out and what we did to escape – BUT NO NAMES. Three days later, he came by for both of us to take us to the 8th Air Force Headquarters with him. We took a subway and then a taxi to somewhere in London where we went into the headquarters where General Ira C. Baker pinned a Purple Heart and an Air Force Medal with three or four oak leaf clusters on me. I also received another stripe which made me a Tech Sergeant. I felt sort of proud. I sent a letter and a cablegram home to Mom to let her know that I was okay. As far as I knew, the last time she had heard anything about me was when the War Department sent her a telegram that I was MIA and that had been back in August. Mom’s and everyone’s prayers had been answered. I thought a lot about Mom. She didn’t know that I was alive all of this time, and I had no way to notify her. I said my prayers everyday too.
I spent the next five- or six-weeks touring England, Scotland, and Ireland. We were taken to a hotel of sorts in Belfast. The next morning, I heard what I thought was some kind of carnival or celebration going on. We were on the third floor, and when I looked out the window, it seems to me that it was some sort of parade. So, I asked the Lieutenant what it was they were celebrating. He said, “It is a funeral or what is described as an Irish wake.” Maybe that’s the way to do it, but with the bands, parade, etc? I really don’t know, but I think sometimes that it’s better than some of our customs. What do you think?
I got back to my old bomb group about December 15th and found only one crew that I knew. It was Captain Snow and his crew – the one who always pissed on his tail wheel. They still had three or four raids to go to make their 25, and they finally made it.
Finished my tour of lectures about December 17th and asked if I could go home, back to the States. I got an okay and was booked on a DC-54 for a ride home. Don’t remember any dates, but we landed in Bermuda and then Washington, DC, where I was debriefed at the Pentagon. I then boarded the Capital Limited for Chicago, changed trains in Chicago and rode The Olympian on the Milwaukee Road to Aberdeen, SD, where I picked up by Paul, Mary, and Mom. Boy, was I glad to see her again. . .all of them. I had a twenty-one-day leave, so I spend Christmas at home in 1943. I had always told Mom that I would see her and that I would be home for Christmas. But I didn’t know that it was going to happen in the meantime. As I said, prayers are answered if you really believe.
I had to go to California on January 18th, 1944 and check in at the Edgewater Beach Hotel in Santa Monica.
War is hell, and you don’t realize that fact until you find the enemy is shooting back. I can still see those bombers blowing up and going down, and you ask me if I was scared? Damn right I was. Anyone who says he wasn’t is a damn liar or crazy. I still get choked up, and yes, shed a few tears when I talk about the war.
I’M LUCKY, I CAME BACK. I WISH I COULD FORGET, BUT I CAN’T.
AUF WIEDERSEHEN.
Leroy (Rosy) Funk
