Tail Gunner's version: On looking out to 9 o'clock level, about a mile out I saw a "gaggle" of fighters proceeding on a course opposite (180 degrees) to our course. They were dark in color, and flying loosely in a swarm rather than any orderly formation. Our fighters always flew in a "finger four" formation of four units. These darker fighters, though flying level, had a slight nose down tilt. I knew they weren't ours. Also at this stage of the war most of our fighters were bright, natural aluminum, not camouflaged. I called the Bombardier, telling him we have bandits...He says "how many?" I counted eighteen of them. They started to turn in toward 6 o'clock. They were out of range at this time. When they were dead astern they turned toward us, still out of range, and went into the "company front". I flipped the safety's off. Don says "Give 'em a burst to let them know you're there". I sight on one and give a short burst with extra elevation... They increase speed and I waited until they were in range. Effective range for the cal. .50 is about 600 yards. At 600 yards I open fire on the one directly behind with continuing short bursts. When they were about 400 yards they opened up with their 20mm cannon. The cannon shells were a combination of armor piercing incendiary, exploding shells and timed explosive shelves. These timed explosive shells burst on their way in, and were used instead of tracer rounds. Gunners saw them as exploding puffs of smoke "walking up to the formation. These FW 190s were flown by experienced pilots and they came in very close. In fact the 190 that I had fired at all the way in came almost into our formation. I believe the Ball Turret got a good shot at him. Al saw him go into a flat spin. I had to fire into the rest of the attacking formations so concentrated my fire to the rear. The whole attack seemed to last only seconds...

When this attack began I Knew I was going to die. The feeling was not of fear but of total resignation, like a numb acceptance of the inevitable. It's hard to explain to anyone who has not gone through a combat experience of facing imminent death. My mind was clear and purposeful. I was very calm and deliberate. My training came to the fore... I clicked off the safety's. Don't mistake this for bravery. I was like a cat trapped in a corner by a huge dog... The guns were my claws. There was no place to run, no place to go. My thought was to fire my best to be most effective. If I was going, then somebody was going with me. I concentrated fully on firing the guns..., I felt no panic. As soon as the "company front" attack was over...and it appeared that there was a chance at surviving...I experienced the worst fear of my life. My mouth dried out completely. My tongue felt like a blotter. I didn't think I could speak... but this passed in seconds. Must be ready for more attacks. Subsequent attacks did come from the nose sector but did not hit us. Joe and Don fired at these 190s.

Afterwards, looking down over the guns, I saw one of our B-17s close below us streaming fire from about eight feet of his left wing. His tanks were afire and his right main landing gear was down. He appeared to be on auto pilot so his crew would be able to bail out. I believe this was Vaadi.

In retrospect, I believe we survived because of our high element position in the formation. The fighters swept the lower elements and took out three crews, Tripp...Vaadi and Tipton...Krahn was taken out of the lead squadron by the subsequent head-on attack. In a flash, 36 men M.I.A....#44-8762 "Seven Six Two".

Our P-51 escort returned to the area. Thank God for "little friends".

Our crew jointly could have claimed a FW 190, but let's leave that to the heroes...