We had a great enlisted crew. One of the real gentlemen was Henry Clay Brier. Hank was from Montgomery, Alabama. Hank's mother and father were professors at the University of Alabama and had an obvious influence on Hank's attitudes and intellect. He was a well-spoken man, with a voice that was calmness itself. Never got excited. He was a pleasure in conversation. Hank was one of our waist gunners and everyone's esteemed friend. The sad thing is that when we were flying overseas, Hank got sick with a case of flu at Grenier Field, New Hampshire, and was hospitalized there. We kept flying the North Atlantic Route, but had every expectation that Hank would catch up with us in England. When we arrived at our Great Ashfield base, we found that B-17 crews were cut from 10 men to 9. So when Hank did catch up he went into the gunners pool and we lost him as a crew member. It was a sad moment for the crew. But Hank was still quartered with us and qualified as a "togglier" on Montgomery's crew. Toggliers were enlisted "bombardiers" who didn't use the bombsight, but toggled the bombs in unison with the lead ship. Hank was one of the best of these. He later became an R.C.M. Operator (Radar Counter Measures). These flying specialists jammed enemy radar flak frequencies by tuning in on them thereby canceling there effectiveness. Hank was wounded as a togglier, not seriously.

The Ball Turret was manned by the youngest member, Al Boltz. This position was considered the most dangerous. Conditions in the turret were so cramped that the chest pack could not be taken into the turret with the gunner. If the bailout signal was given, the ball-gunner had to turn the guns down to full 90 degree depression, then pop the doors and come up into the waist to put on his chute. It took guts to ride the Ball. Al had a few oxygen mishaps while we were flying in Europe. It wasn't inattention, but rather the ice in the exhaust ports of the mask. Ralph Vollmer, waist gunner/armorer adjusted the ball so that it had a certain amount of "creep" if the gunners hands came off the controls. Ralph would watch the turret, and if it didn't change directions in a reasonable time. but kept creeping at this steady rate, Ralph would call Al. If he had no answer ,or a slurred answer, he knew something was amiss and would get oxygen to Al right away. I attribute this condition yo ice buildup. The turret was so confined that the gunner's chin was always close to his chest. The exhaust ports in the mask were just under the chin. This allowed the ice to form a sort of stationary dam on his chest. Because the gunners views were mostly through the gun sight, there was not much head movement, which would have helped break up the ice. That's my theory anyway. Take it or leave it!

Our Top turret Gunner/Engineer was Roland "Rocky" Tanguay. He was the third man in the cockpit. His duties were numerous and important. He moved around to make sure that mechanical things that were supposed to happen, did happen. If the bomb bay doors refused to retract after bombing, he had to grab a crank, get out on the narrow bomb bay catwalk, without a parachute, (the chute hampered movements with the crank) and crank about 90 turns manually to bring up the doors. This was done while looking at Germany five miles down, usually while in heavy flak over the target. He had an extra long oxygen hose to allow him to do this! His other routine duties were checking to make sure that the main landing gear was down and LOCKED before landing. He was responsible for seeing that the ball turret was properly stored before landing, although the ball and waist gunner checked this for him. He called off airspeeds when taking off and landing, especially if pilots were on instruments. He also fired recognition flares when necessary And...oh yes...he manned the top turret guns.

Radio Operator/Gunner Don Abens was a real asset. He was probably the best R.O. in the squadron. He could send and receive 25 words a minute in code. The code was taken in five-letter groups, then decoded. Very secret stuff. The radio room was a fairly commodious space in the B-17. On the left, facing forward, was the operators desk, with a sending key, of course. Above the desk was the primary radio. On the right side was a rack full of "Tuning Units". These had two handles and could be extracted and placed into the radio very quickly. This wasn't my country, so frankly I didn't know a lot about it. All radios were SCRs (Signal Corps Radio followed by a number). At one time the radio hatch had a .50 MG installed, but its field of fire was limited so they took it out and the R.O. manned one of the waist guns when "Bandits" were about. I believe it was a way to create an extra "pool" of gunners. This led to the crew reduction from 10 to 9.

After his experience at Ardmore, Abe, understandably, "fell out of love" with guns. But in spite of this, when the call "Bandits in the area" came over the command channel, he would man the right waist gun, and we all knew the right side was more than adequately covered.

Abe was another one of those guys that everyone took to. He had a love of humor and a great laugh. He was always consulted. His opinions always carried weight with the rest of us.

Ralph Vollmer was the Armorer of the crew. He manned the left waist gun. He was from southern Indiana and of German Extraction. He was one of those "solid" men that you could always count on. These are the guys that are always there, thank God! He had gone to Armorers School at Lowry Field in Denver, and was an expert with guns, bombs, and turrets. The Bombardier and navigator always knew that their guns would fire if needed, because Ralph had checked and installed them. The Bombardier always knew that if he needed help pulling the arming-wires from the bombs after takeoff, Ralph would always provide expert help. Ralph was soft spoken and easy going. I never saw him really angry. If anyone on the crew could be called steady, it would be Ralph.