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06-14-2004, 12:40 PM
A Brief History of the 34th PRS

by Charles F. Hoy
Colonel, USAF (Retired)

Charles F. Hoy graduated from flying school in class 43 J at Williams Field,
and trained as a fighter pilot. In June 1944, without photo training, he was
sent to England as a temporary replacement pilot with the 34th PRS. Although
he had scored highest in his gunnery class, and had no doubts as to becoming
an ace in the skies over Europe, Col. Hoy stayed with the 34th for the
duration. After receiving a regular commission in 1946, he continued in photo
reconnaissance while stationed at Wright Field. He served with distinction,
returning for a combat tour in Korea and serving during Vietnam; ARDC HQ in
Baltimore; was involved in the development of the U-2 and SR-71; assigned to
the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA) in
turn and retired from the National Reconnaissance Office (NRO) in 1971 after
30 years service.

Col. Hoy's service awards include: Legion of Merit (with cluster);
Distiguished Flying Cross; Air Medal with 8 clusters; Joint Service
Commendation Medal and Air Force Commendation Medal. After the end of the Cold
War, Col. Hoy was recognized as a pioneer and awarded the prestigous Space
Pioneers Medal.


The 34th Photographic Reconnaissance Squadron, during World War II, had a
checkered existence. The war was the main objective, the administrative
flow of organizational data was a necessary evil. This was true of most of
the combat squadrons of the Army Air Corps at the time. We were born of
both necessity and urgency, and records are scant and sometimes
contradicting. Nevertheless, this is a reasonable outline of the facts and
personnel making up the heart & soul of the 34th PRS.

The lineage started out with the 126th
Observation Squadron as part of the National Guard on 30 July 1940. While
the 126th was going in and out of activation and redesignations, the
parent organization , the 73rd Reconnaissance Group, was having similar
growing pains. In December of 1943 the 10th Reconnaissance group was
formed out of the old 73rd and on 15 December 1943, by special order #59
at Will Rogers Field, Oklahoma City, the bulk of the personnel for the
34th Photo Recon Squadron were transferred (no change of station, 201
files only) from the 31st Photo Recon Squadron.
Therefore, for the purposes of this brief history, the 34th Photographic
Reconnaissance Squadron was "born" on the 15th of December 1943 and
assigned to the 10th Reconnaissance group. Even though we were detached
from the 10th Recon group in October of 1944 and assigned to the new
Provisional Reconnaissance Group, and further attached in April of 1945 to
the 69th Reconnaissance Group, somehow it all came back together from 11
July 1945 to 22 November 1945 when we were reunited with the good ol? 10th
Recon Group in Furth, Germany.
The "death" of the 34th Photo Recon Squadron on 22 November 1945 seems to
place the other bracket on this brief history. Therefore, for the purposes
of this story, our beloved 34th Photographic Reconnaissance squadron, one
of the best outfits of World War II (if not THE best) was born at Will
Rogers Field in December, 1943, and after a distinguished career, died in
late November 1945.
I am personally glad I missed the funeral. I was at home on R&R and
returned to Furth after the first of the year 1946 to find all the F-5s
destroyed and an assignment in the tactical Reconnaissance Squadron,
flying F-6s. I suppose it was fitting to not only deactivate the best
photo squadron in the European Theater of Operations with the destruction
of the best photographic planes of the United States Army Air Corps or the
United States Air Force until the advent of the U2 in the mid 50s. Many of
us would have given a pretty penny for F-5s in Korea. It would also have
been much easier to fill up the holes in the European mapping program
(Casey Jones) after the war ended in Europe.
At any rate the members of the 34th Photographic Reconnaissance squadron
can be justly proud of their organization and the contribution made to
victory in Europe. I think it was General Hap Arnold who said: "Battles
are won by soldiers, but wars are won by reconnaissance."

It seems appropriate to begin this brief history with a short
discussion of the language and the structure of the times. I know this will
refresh the memories of all you great guys...former members of the 34th
Photographic Reconnaissance Squadron, and serve to explain some of the
differences to your families of the changing times within the "military
establishment."
During World War II, there was no Department of Defense, no United States Air
Force, and no jet aircraft or ballistic missles on the side of the allies.
Before the end of the war Germany was firing intermediate range ballistic
missles and had a limited number of jets in combat. The [V-1] "Buzz Bombs",
the V-2 rockets, and the Messerschmitt 262 (a jet fighter with very limited
range). The Department of Defense, the United States Air Force and (would you
believe) the Central Intelligence Agency were established by the National
Security Act of 1947. Therefore the 34th PRSwas under the War Department and
the United States Army Air Corps.
Even the nomenclature of the aircraft was different. During W.W.II a fighter
aircraft was designated "P" for pursuit. Since "P" was already in use for the
Lockheed P-38 (Lightning) and all other fighters, when the need arose to give
aircraft a photo designation, the closest phonetically was (you guessed it) an
"F". Therefore in W.W.II the F-5 is the photo configuration of the Lockheed
Lightning fighter, and not a modern jet fighter with the same designation.

A "squadron," by
definition, is composed of a headquarters and two or more flights (units). The
squadron is the basic Air Corps tactical and administrative unit. It is
tactically compared to an infantry battalion. The squadron is the smallest
unit operated separately. The squadron was composed of the necessary sections
or units and combat flights to plan and execute the aerial reconnaissance
missions. The photographic nature of the mission necessitated different units
from standard fighter or bomber squadrons. For example, the F-5 carried
cameras instead of guns and bombs. Therefore, we had camera maintenance and
photo interpretation personnel instead of an armament section. Depending on
operational neccessity, the photo laboratory or detachments of such a lab may
be operated by the squadron for First Phase Intelligence (immediate
intelligence, normally from a wet negative). It was useful to have the photo
lab as part of Group functions to support a number of squadrons.
A combat squadron was designed as a fighting unit. It had a limited degree of
flexibility and a maximum degree of mobility. The squadron was divided into an
air and ground echelon to permit it to readily move from one location to
another. It had both aerial elements and the required service personnel and
equipment to perform organizational maintenance. We could, and did sometimes,
operate independently -- but normally operated as part of the Group. During
moves, sorties were flown from the current base and met by the advanced
echelon at the new base on completion of the mission.
The squadron included administrative, operational and technical components.
The administrative component includes the staff sections and the personnel
necessary for the administration of the squadron. The operations section
includes the staff and personnel directly concerned with the tactical
functions and the conduct of flight operations. The technical component
includes the staff and personnel primarily concerned with the maintenance and
supply problems of the squadron.
In simple terms, the squadron had to have those people necessary to feed, pay,
promote, move, equip, quarter and operate all of the necessary
equipment...from the aircraft to the gas trucks! And we had them, and it
worked, as a team effort. It took all the players on the team to get the job
done.

LAT gravel pit range machine gun firing test. On the armed P-38, the .50
caliber machine guns fired with every 5th shell a tracer in 3 second bursts.
This is the concentrated firepower which was lost to cameras in the
photo-Lightning. (Lockheed-Martin Corp.)While the personnel make up the heart
and soul of the squadron, it still requires a long line of equipment to
function. A proper mix of personnel skills and equipment leads to the
performance of the mission. In the 34th Photographic Reconnaissance Squadron
the mix was an ideal combination. I know we were all justly proud of our basic
aircraft, the F-5 (P-38) photo recon aircraft.
The F-5 had a wing span of 52 feet and a length of 37 feet 10 inches. With the
gear down it had a height of 9 feet, 6 inches. The engine types varied from
the Allison V-1710-51-55 to the V-1710-111-113 and had horsepower ratings from
1325 to 1475. The aircraft was "red-lined" for speed between 395 mph at 25,000
feet to 430 mph at 30,000 feet. The ceiling limits varied from 39,000 feet to
44,000 feet (the majority of our missions called for photo scales that
required flying at 20,000 feet). The later models we received had dive flaps
and aileron boost , adding greatly to the rapid response capability.
The fighter version of the P-38 had a nose section just ahead of the pilot
that was filled with guns. The earlier versions had (4) .50 caliber machine
guns, a 23mm cannon plus ammunition. Later models carried (4) .50 caliber
machine guns and a 20 mm cannon plus ammunition. The photo configuration
required that these guns and ammunition be removed and the nose section fitted
with cameras, mounts, film and controls. Camera windows were cut into the
sides of the fuselage. Various camera configurations could be carried. A
trimetrogon camera system, consisting of three, each, K-17 cameras (a
vertical, left oblique, and a right oblique camera mounted in a fixed
relationship for side stereo overlap) was a usual installation. Forward
overlap for additional stereo coverage was obtained by setting the
intervalometer (camera control in the cockpit) for the overlap desired
(depending on the altitude, speed, and focal length of the camera used).
Provisions were also made for the installation of split vertical cameras and a
forward oblique. Not all cameras could be carried at once, but the
configuration was tailored to the mission requirements at the time.
The K-17 day recon camera with a 6-inch lens cone (F/6.3) and a standard A-5
film magazine could cover an area of 2.85 by 2.85 miles from 10,000 feet. If a
24 inch lens cone were substituted for the standard 6 inch lens the coverage
was in much more detail, but limited with the A-5 film magazine to .071 by
.071 miles from the same altitude. Of course coverage increased as the
altitude increased, but you paid the price in loss of information content
(smaller scale). The cycling time for the K-17 camera was 6 seconds, therefore
that was as fast as you could take pictures with the intervalometer (camera
control) on "runaway." In high priority areas you wanted as many pictures as
you could obtain, so "runaway" could be selected. Care had to be taken however
to be sure that the shutter speed (set on the ground in those days) was a
reasonable match for the altitude flown or image motion blurred the exposure.
The shutter speeds available for the 6 inch lens were 1/50th, 1/100th, 1/200th
and 1/300th of a second. A 12 inch lens cone had a top shutter speed of
1/225th of a second, while the longer focal length 24 inch camera was limited
to a top shutter speed of only 1/150th of a second. Film coverages given are
for each 9 by 9 inch frame of photography.
The K-17 day recon camera was available with a 40 inch (F/8.0) telephoto lens.
This gave very large scale pictures of an area 0.23 by 0.33 miles on the
ground from an altitude of 10,000 feet. Shutter speeds were available up to
1/600th of a second.

Benny Gronowicz's last ship to C/C, was the F-5E-2-LO flown by Jim Dempsey
aptly named "Yankee Rebel". Crew was all Northerners, pilot was Southerner
-- hense the name. NOTE: The "box" under the nose is an extension for the
longer focal length vertical K-17 camera carried by the F-5. Some sources
have erroniously listed this feature as a debris guard for the camera
window. (Benny Gronowicz) The Type A-5A film magazine carried a normal load of
200 feet of 9 inch wide film capable of obtaining 250 exposures in the 9 inch
by 9 inch format. Shorter lengths of film could also be loaded, depending on
the requirements of the mission. The film magazine was detachable and was the
prime mover of film to and from the aircraft camera system. It [the film
magazine] had to be loaded and unloaded in the dark, naturally. Dark rooms and
handling equipment for film loading and unloading were a standard part of the
squadron equipment.
Laboratory dark rooms for film processing and handling were also required. The
equipment processing and chemical mixing was rather crude by modern standards,
but effective. Fresh water was always a problem and it had to be clean water
for chemical mixing and film or print washing. Inadequate washing resulted in
spotting and sometimes eventual disappearance of all or part of the image.
Equipment was available for not only processing the negative, but for making
paper prints of frames as required. Enlargement and rectification (projecting
an oblique back into the horizontal plane) cameras were also required. The
34th Photo Recon processing, as was almost all the film processing in W.W. II,
was in black and white.
First phase interpretation and plotting of flight lines (the actual
photographs from each flight or sortie were plotted out and outlined on a map
to show the specific area covered) was the first order of business, depending
on the urgency of the specific mission. I have seen very high ranking officers
looking at wet negatives under a red light, even before they reached the wash
water stage. For example, the "go or no go" order for a current primary or
secondary could depend on the immediate bomb damage assessment from the aerial
photos coming out of the hypo in the photo lab. The strike force was sometimes
airborne in route awaiting orders for target priority.
The photo plots not only showed the coverage obtained against the mission
objectives, but showed areas that might have been missed due to weather or
other reasons (out of film, enemy action, missed navigation, etc). A second
sortie sometimes had to be laid on immediately to obtain coverage in high
priority situations.

The additional equipment of the
squadron was fairly standard. We had to have quarters, tents, buildings (if we
could find them serviceable) and the ability to maintain these facilities.
Since the 34th was part of the invasion force, we did a lot of moving and
tenting. All of the equipment had to be moved frequently. This took a sizable
and ambitious motor pool...jeeps, trucks, command cars, weapons carriers and
gas trucks. We had to move our mess halls and cooking facilities, too, as well
as all our supplies and spare parts for everything from typewriter ribbons to
aircraft tires. Thank goodness our supplies included a 16mm sound projector
and screen...we did have occasional movies...even one with Betty Grable once
in a while!
In short the squadron equipment included all the housekeeping and maintenance
supporting gear. The 34th was particularly adept at improvising and
scrounging...necessity sometimes even dictated the old "moonlight
requisition". The barter system wasn?t ignored, either. Fresh eggs and even a
piece of meat may even appear on the mess table from time to time.
And who will forget "PSP" (Pierced Steel Planking)? This marvel provided
overnight runways and taxiways...even hardstands. Occasionally a spare length
might form a walkway through the mud, to replace the soggy sawdust that was
usually present.
I remember that there was a plywood factory near St. Dizier. It was amazing
how quickly many of the tents had floors and even some side walls. Still, at
night, in the blackout, it was easy to trip over the one piece of necessary
equipment that always got in the way...a tent stake or rope...and end up in
the bottom of a bomb crater.

The communications equipment was simple. The aircraft had radios and the
majority of the rest of the outfit survived with a few field telephones...hand
crank ringing and all! There was no radar gear, but we did have IFF
(identification friend or foe) boxes on the aircraft. These were set to
specific frequencies during the "day" and you could "squawk" (initiate the
call signal) to give positive identification to a unit challenging your
identity. Do you remember "DBS?" This was the memory tickler for Dungeness,
Beachy Head, and Selsey Bill, three points of the southern English coast that
were safe entry points in case of radio or IFF failure. You had to cross
landfall as a sitting duck, 1000 feet with gear down! And do you remember the
"GUMP" check? Before landing: Gas (fullest tank), Undercarriage (gear down and
locked), Mixture (full rich), and Prop (high pitch, full RPM). Radar approach
was available at Chalgrove, but security only permitted use in extreme
emergency.
Among our squadron equipment some sporting gear was to be found. On the odd
occasion, with the weather and playing grounds cooperating, bats and balls
would appear. Many a challenge came between flights or sections and the
officers against the troops. Softball was perhaps the most popular sport
available, but footballs were available and once in a while a basketball was
found. Volleyball was easy to set up also. These activities did help while
away some hours. I think, all in all, morale was good, provided you didn?t
miss the last liberty run truck back to base from Oxford, Nancy, St. Nicholas,
Strasbourg, Nuremberg, or "where ever!" We did have "off limits" problems
occasionally with High Wycombe and Nancy. We even liberated two German
aircraft to the French Army for cognac and champagne (it seems the French had
liberated a German wine cellar). The squadron put the cognac and champagne to
good use, but the liberty train never made more than a liberty run to
Nuremberg.

The 9th Air Force was reactivated in the United Kingdom on 16 October 1943
after successful action in North Africa and the invasion of Italy.
Headquarters were established at Sunninghill Park, Berkshire, England in an
estate adjoining the famous Ascot racecourse. The 8th Air Force was already in
place, operating in strategic bombing and daylight raids on the continent. The
9th Air Force under, Major General Brereton were to participate in Operation
Pointblank, the air offensive designed to smash the German Air Force in the
air as a preliminary to the coming invasion of Europe. The 9th was assigned
the responsibility of direct tactical support for ground forces. It became six
times larger than it had been in North Africa with 11 bomber groups, 18
fighter groups, 14 troop carrier groups and 2 reconnaissance groups. One of
the recon groups was the 10th, and one of the squadrons arriving in Europe was
the 34th on 29 March 1944. The 10th Group, and the 34th PRS were stationed in
Chalgrove, England.
The first "dicing" mission was flown on the morning of 6 May as 1st Lt. Albert
Lanker crossed the Channel in his F-5 at an altitude of 15 feet above the
waves. He reached the other side at Berq-sur-Mer and turned around a large
sand dune to lessen his chances of being hit while turning. His photos later
showed this dune to be an enemy gun position. Racing in a super-buzz just
above the beaches, cameras on runaway, he encountered five groups of men at
work on beach defenses. In each case he headed straight for the group of men
just to watch them scatter and roll. He said they were completely surprised
and didn?t see him until he was almost on top of them. He was fired upon
repeatedly at point blank range by riflemen but was not hit. Then, he scaled
the cliff at the end of his photo run, cleared the top by about 6 feet, and
returned safely to Chalgrove.
The pilot on the second dicing mission, Lt. Fred Hayes, was never heard from
again. On the third dicing mission, Lt. Allen R. Keith collided with a
seagull, which stuck the glass in front of his bullet proof windshield. He was
a bloody mess from the seagull, but returned home safely.
Chalgrove was near Oxford and the 8th Air Force Reconnaissance Group,
commanded by Col. Elliot Roosevelt (the President?s son) was only a few miles
to the west. It became obvious immediately that the 8th and 9th were not going
to be buddies in town. The 9th were the invasion forces and living a rather
crude existence compared to the 8th that was well entrenched in quarters and
supply channels. We were eating from mess kits and managing on field rations
while they had mess halls and ice cream! At any rate, before summer came, 8th
Air Force headquarters in High Wycombe placed the town "off limits" to 9th Air
personnel.
From 6 to 20 May, 1944, F-5 Lightnings of the 10th Group, including the 34th
were given the responsibility of furnishing vitally important photos of the
invasion beaches. In order to assure the photos were of such quality and scale
that the beach shore defenses could be studied minutely for briefing and
training of assault it was necessary that extremely low level oblique photos
be obtained. High level, vertical photos had shown intricate barricades in the
shallow water and in the sand. The high altitude photos did not have adequate
detail to determine how strong these were, whether they were made of wood or
concrete, whether anchored deep in the sand, or whether they could be overrun
by landing craft or avoided by infantrymen storming the beach. However, the
extremely hazardous taking of low level pictures of a strip so formidably
defended made the invasion commanders hesitate to order "dicing" missions. The
term "dicing" is used to describe the low level technique used by the pilots,
as though the aircraft were dice tossed on a gambling table. At this point
General Quesada went down to the 10th PRG to talk to Col. Berg and the
squadron commanders to see how they felt. With Operation Overlord and the
invasion of the continent in the balance, the reaction from the 10th was
singular. "We?re ready now, just tell us what you want and we?ll get it."
In all, eleven low level oblique sorties were flown to obtain excellent photos
of coastal and underwater defenses from Blakenberghe to Dunkirk, from LeJouque
to St. Vaast-La-Hoque. Mines with trip wires were detected attached to the
tops of posts, gun positions were shown in the sides of cliffs, and weak spots
in defenses were located. For its performance in carrying out these sorties,
the 10th Group was awarded a Distinguished Unit Citation.
From 15 May to 5 June, besides the extraordinary low level oblique photos, the
recon Lightnings were employed to the maximum completing the following tasks:
Mosaics of the area within a 12 mile radius of the Leige bridges for a
Bomber Command study of flak defenses.
Coverage of all the airfields in northern France.
Run-in nose dicing strips for troop Carrier Command.
Mosaics of landing strips and drop zones for Troop Carrier Command and
Airborne divisions.
Medium scale coverage of all main roads in the invasion area every four days
from 23 May to the invasion.
Medium scale coverage of all bridges over the Seine River from Paris to the
sea, and over the Loire river from Nantes to Orleans.
Special large scale coverage of landing and drop zones on D minus-1 to
enable Troop Carrier Command and Airborne divisions to study obstacles which
were reported to be under construction in their areas.
Operation Overlord was scheduled for 5 June, but weather delayed the attack
until the 6th. By the evening of the 5th, all allied aircraft were painted
with the invasion stripes of alternating black and white bands completely
around fuselages and wings. These stripes would easily identify them as
friends to the ships and troops below. Tragic losses to friendly forces had
occurred during the invasion of Sicily, and this was to avoid any possible
recurrence. The painting on of stripes continued in some cases well into the
night of 5 June, and was not completed at some bases until after the first
waves of aircraft had taken off for France.

Although most reconnaissance aircraft of the day were based on fighter
airframes, not all recce types were unarmed as was the F-5. This is a F-6
built by North American Aviation. Based upon the Mustang, this platform was
better suited for "on-the-spot" visual and quick tactical reconnaissance
where high resolution photography and the trimetrogon cameras were not
neccessary. Note this ship has 6 kills painted beneath the cockpit. (Richard
Kill)The 67th Tactical Reconnaissance Group moved to France, to A-9 at Le
Moley on 2 July, 1944. They were able to function without a heavy photographic
processing laboratory, since they were primarily visual reconnaissance flying
F-6 Mustangs and fighter types. The 10th Group and the 34th had to wait until
facilities were available for our photo lab. We moved to the continent on the
11th of August. In the mean time, we continued operational support from
Chalgrove in England. The first of many of our temporary bases in France was
at A-27 in Rennes on the Brest Peninsula.
Tenting on the plains near the air base at Rennes wasn?t too bad, it was
summertime and there was a nice rock quarry with good clean water not far
away. You could get in a swim once in a while, and I do remember some strange
fishing expeditions with German hand grenades for bait. Rather dangerous, but
you could trade fish for fresh eggs! We got our first USO show there, too. It
was Spike Jones, and all you needed was a helmet to sit on!
Our mission remained roughly the same. We covered airfields, railroad yards,
bridges, the front lines, special targets assigned, etc., through the
campaigns of northern France, the Rhineland, the Ardennes-Alsace, and central
Europe. We moved from Rennes to Chateaudun on 25 August, to St. Dizier on the
12th of September, then we left the 10th Group for a new outfit.
The 34th PRS joined with the 111th Tactical Recon Squadron and the 162nd
Tactical Recon Squadron to form the Provisional Recon Group of the 1st
Tactical Air Force (Provisional). All the "provisions" never amounted to much
but a paper shuffle. The rumor was that we were going to have a new arm patch
to replace the 9th Air Force patch, and that would be a Cross of Loraine. We
were supporting the French Army coming up from the south (in addition to our
other duties). At any rate, the 34th moved again to a new base on the
outskirts of Dijon on 6 October 1944. This was the first time we had a base
near a French city of consequence that was almost in tact. The city had real
department stores and restaurants and the pilots even lucked out and were
given quarters in an old French chateau. This was the first time we?d been
under a hard roof since the nice Quonset huts in Chalgrove
Daylight photo recce was flown by the 34th while the 111th and the 162nd
accomplished tac reece. The fast, low flying F-6s had difficulty in spotting
visual targets as the winter set in and snow covered an already well concealed
enemy. The importance of detailed quality coverage by the F-5s of the 34th
were of the highest order. Many juicy targets were discovered by interpreters
examining in stereo the day?s haul from our F-5s. A combination of vertical
and oblique photos provided ground commanders with material for detailed
terrain studies upon which to plan their operations.
The 34th also provided routine bomb damage assessment coverage. Although some
of the bombers carried small spotting cameras, the quality was poor because
targets were more often than not covered with smoke and fire from the strike
aircraft. It was later, when the smoke cleared, that the damage could be seen
in detail. This was a job for photo recon, because the bombers or strike
aircraft were "long gone" by then. Frequently the F-5 pilot was required to
take "before, during and after" photos. This was an ideal method of
determining exactly what damage was done. But, it meant that the Photo Joe had
to get there first and stay until after the sky was lonesome and you were the
only target left to shoot at! Sporting!

Initally limited in capability, the F-6 Mustang saw constant modification
toward accomodating many varied camera installations. Eventually, the
Mustang was seen as capable in the roll of photo reconnaissance as the
Lightning by those in the higher eschelons of command. (Charlie Hoy)On 3
November 1944 the 34th moved again, this time to a strip at Azelot just
outside of Nancy in Alsace-Lorraine. It was going to be a long, cold winter,
and most of the outfit was stuck with the tents for quarters. I must admit,
though, that a winterized tent may have been warmer than the old barn many of
us were quartered in. The walls were thick, but the smell of the previous
occupants never quite left!
Most of the American Hospitals for the front were quartered in Nancy that
winter, and even the hospital trains used Nancy as a home base. Not only was
there a great Red Cross Club in town and several public baths (with hot
water)... there was an abundance of Army nurses that brightened some of the
spare time.
The first big squadron party was held on 20 December in Nancy. A great time
was had by all attending. Meanwhile back at the war, the Battle of the Bulge
was developing and the weather was terrible. The weather started breaking on
the 23rd and Christmas Day was beautiful and it looked like the entire air
corps was up and at ?em! Recon planes of the three tactical Air Commands flew
177 sorties while fighter-bombers put up 1095 sorties. It was a very busy
Christmas Day, and the German counter offensive in the Ardennes was completely
contained by 27 December.
The Germans were getting desperate. They had dropped a number of troops behind
our lines wearing US uniforms and speaking fluent English. Word was posted on
the bulletin board on 2 January as follows: "Men will wear steel helmets and
carry guns at all times. Word was received from higher Headquarters that a
small scale attack by the enemy had been reported in the Seventh Army area."
Evidence was discovered in a gate house near the pilots quarters of a German
spending the night. Needless to say, there were several volunteers for extra
guard duty the next few nights. Lt. Hoy was shot at from nearby woods, and
evidence of a sniper was found in the woods. On 5 January Sgt. Eino Kangas was
killed by a carbine bullet in another section of the forest.
It was a long, cold winter. The mud and snow were not pleasant for the crews
on the flight line especially. Even new combat jackets couldn't always keep a
man warm in the wind on a ladder trying to repair a leak in a fuel line in a
30 knot wind. It took a lot more than technical ability to "keep ?em flying"
that winter. Our gang accomplished their usual outstanding job.
We did seem to be getting a few more fringe benefits while the weather often
kept the planes on the ground for days on end. The 48 and 72 hour passes to
Paris were picking up. Several of the squadron got 7 days leave back to
England, and by early spring rest homes had opened at Cannes on the French
Riviera and on Lake d?Annecy in the French Alps.
On the 3rd of April 1945 the 34th moved up again, this time almost to the
Rhine River in Alsace-Lorraine at Hagenau, north of Strasbourg. It was
necessary to fly back to the west to gain altitude before heading into Germany
or you would cross the lines in a very vulnerable position.
Hagenau had changed hands many times in the fighting over the winter, and when
we arrived the minefield just off the end of the runway was still not cleaned.
For quite some time the bodies of those killed in the last action were easily
seen from the roadway, including several American soldiers. We were ordered to
leave the area completely alone until it was cleared. ****y traps were
suspected and the mines could often be spotted on top of the ground since many
were planted in the snow. It looked strange to see the white camouflage capes
fluttering in the breeze over the corpses in battle dress whites!
The French Moroccans crossed our area at this time. It was strange seeing
camels and their dress in the middle of Europe. They took Karlsruhe and
Stuttgart, having their usual fun and games of raping and pillaging everything
they conquered. They were our allies, but hardly our brand of soldier.

The war was obviously over now.
It was just too bad that the German Generalstaffs efforts
to assassinate Hitler and end the war had failed earlier. At any rate, at 0001
hours on 9 May 1945, the unconditional surrender of Germany, which had been
signed at Reims at 0141on 7 May, became effective and World War II was over in
Europe.
The end of hostilities did not stop the mission of the 34th Photo Recon
Squadron. In the first few days following the end of the war the weather was
terrific and we were very busy mapping and doing other basic cover sorties
that were to stand the United States Intelligence Community in good stead for
many years to come. As the "Iron Curtain" went down over much of Europe, we
had taken a good peek through the window. I personally spent three days
mapping Yugoslavia (and incidentally took flak each day. Tito didn?t buy our
cover story that we were looking for Himmler in some trucks with a group of SS
troops).
The 34th moved to the airbase at Furth, Germany, outside Nurembourg on 15
July, 1945 where we stayed until the unit was deactivated on 22 November 1945.
Until that, we continued to accomplish basic photographic cover for future
use. Assisting in Project "Davey Jones" and other special assignments.
The 34th even had the first incident with the Russians, in true "U-2" Gary
Powers style. F/O Rankin was missing on a flight over Poland. He had been
forced down and was in prison. He was able to escape with the help of a Polish
girl who befriended him, and he walked out of the "Iron Curtain" area. He was
immediately debriefed and sent home.
Aerial photographic reconnaissance was really in its infancy during W.W.II.
Like many other techniques, we gained much knowledge from our help to the
British. British Intelligence gave us the clues to our needs, and we designed
and sold equipment to them through "Lend Lease". They had the P-38 in combat
before we did, and many of the techniques used in the RAF Spitfire Recce
squadrons contributed to our training programs.
Since W.W.II, however, the US reconnaissance and intelligence programs have
been the mainstay of the free world. Camera controls are automatic.
Shutterless "strip" cameras synchronize the movement of the earth under the
camera with the width of the slit and the type of film to make an endless
exposure. The new processing machines with their computer controls
automatically scan the negative during processing steps and correct for
contrast, density, etc. I think most of us take for granted the daily look at
the weather satellite pictures on TV. Not many years ago it was thought
impossible to take pictures from space. I have a great copy, in living color,
of the earth...taken from the moon!
The reconnaissance groups and squadrons of World War II were the real pioneers
in establishing the firm requirements for continuous intelligence coverage to
provide a data base for future use. This country never wants to be caught
short again on worldwide target information. The advent of ballistic missles
makes it even more imperative to know the exact geodetic position of all areas
of interest. The operational demand for photographic coverage increased in
Korea and Vietnam. Before silver recovery efforts began in the photo
processing area, the sewers of Saigon must have been plated with pure silver
from the many miles of film that were processed in the area.
Perhaps the most significant contribution of the 34th was the example of
continuing to collect data after the end of hostilities, until it became
routine. An easy example is that of the Cuban missile sites. Routine aerial
reconnaissance of Cuba found these sites before they became operational.
Well done, pioneers of the 34th!

2RHPZ
06-17-2004, 09:29 AM
D-DAY: The best laid plans of mice and men...

by Raymond E. Lanterman

1st Lieutenant, US Army
146th Engineer Battalion (Combat)
Written 20-May, 1984

1Lt. Raymond E. Lanterman was the younger brother of 34th PRS Supply Officer
Capt. Charles H. Lanterman. Although Raymond, a combat engineer, was not a
member of the 34th PRS or the Army Air Corps for that matter -- there is an
eternal connection between his story and that of the 34th PRS.
On 19-May, 1944 34th PRS pilot Lt. Garland York flew their specially modified
F-5A Lightning "My-Little D-Icer" up his assigned stretch of beach shooting a
strip of film from St. Vaast De La Hounge to Bancs Du Grande. Flying at 35
feet and at full throttle, his cameras set on runaway, Lt. York photographed
what was to become Omaha Beach...the bloodiest stretch of sand that would
forever change the future of our world. It would be these photographs which
would find their way into the 146th Combat Engineer Battalion and 1st
Lieutenant Raymond E. Lanterman's hands. Carried ashore by Lanterman, these
photos served as a reference of what lay before him.
According to the Special Engineer Task Force Plan of 22-May/44, the primary
mission of the Special Engineer Task Force was to prepare 16 50-yard gaps
through all of the beach obstacles within the tidal range of Omaha Beach. The
146th was charged with creating six of these gaps on Easy Red alone. Their
secondary mission: to remove all the beach obstacles found on Omaha Beach.
The following is the personal story of the leader of Gap Team 9, 1Lt. Raymond
E. Lanterman. His personal reflections of that day...the day known to those
who were there as a living hell called D-Day. For his action, Ray was awarded
the Distinguished Service Cross and the Purple Heart. While his wounds did not
seriously impair his career as a commerical artist, he was reminded from time
to time throughout the remainder of his life, that he had been hit on the
beach. Ray passed from our midst January 23, 1994 and rests in honor among his
fellow countrymen in the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific (Punch
Bowl) -- Honolulu, Hawaii.

The 146th Combat Engineers Battalion
arrived in the British Isles in 1943, and in early 1944 was stationed at
Barnstaple Bay in Devonshire, southwest England. Lundy Island, of pirate
notoriety, was on the horizon. Our Mission was to maintain, and to repair
the damage done to, the nearby training area where troops who would take
part in the invasion of France were trained in realistic rehearsals.
We watched unit after unit go through the rugged course, and were smugly
congratulating ourselves on our relatively safe situation as the
maintenance crew, when, to our consternation, early in May we learned that
we were the next unit on the list and that another Engineer outfit would
be cleaning up after us.
As engineers who would be landing early on D-Day, we concentrated on the
demolition, using explosives, of obstacles, similar to those the Germans
had erected on the coast of Normandy. Landing barges were to take us
across the English Channel to France, and we invented a little song:
"Coming in on a barge with a charge", to the tune of "Coming In On A Wing
and a Prayer".
Our Training completed, we were isolated a few days before the invasion in
a fenced enclosure --- no passes outside for anybody --- and briefed very
thoroughly on that part of Normandy Beach we'd be landing on. For the
briefing, we had low- and high-altitude aerial photographs provided by the
Air Force's 34th [Photo] Reconnaissance Squadron. There was also an
extremely accurate scale model of Omaha Beach, complete with natural
features, trees, houses, and other buildings, and even such German
military installations as were known to be in the vicinity. We memorized
the landing site and studied the obstacles in the photographs until we
knew everything backwards and forwards. Later, when we did land, we
discovered just how accurate the model had been; the coast looked just
like it, right down to the last detail.

"Barge With A Charge" was the command vehicle of the 146th Combat
Engineers on D-Day. Having come ashore on Lt. Col. Isley's command boat,
this Weasel's radio gear helped coordinate the engineers of the SETF and
is rumored to be one of the first (if not first) vehicle on the
beach.About the first day of June we were taken to Plymouth harbor on
England's south coast where we were put aboard LST's (Landing Ship Tank)
commanded by Coast Guard officers and moored cheek by jowl all over the
place. Each LST assigned to combat engineers carried a tank-dozer in
addition to its complement of troops. The vessels were equipped with
galleys, and a stocky lieutenant from Arkansas who inhabited the one that
tied to our port side was a baker by profession; it wasn't long before he
had a row of freshly-baked pies laid out along the rail to cool.
On the evening of June 4 we sailed out into the English Channel. As far as
the eye could see in all directions the sea was filled with landing craft,
navy vessels, supply vessels, and other types of military shipping. We
woke up on the morning of June 5th .... back in Plymouth! Eisenhower had
been compelled to order the armada to turn around and go back because the
weather had turned foul and any attempt to land in France would have been
foolhardy if not impossible. I still marvel that that vast fleet could be
controlled in so efficient, orderly, and precise manner. That evening, the
5th, we sailed again, and consoled one another by saying this was probably
another dry run.
It wasn't.
Before dawn on the 6th we rendezvoused with a fleet of small landing craft
--- LCP's (Landing Craft Personnel) -- each just large enough to hold a
platoon of men, steered by a coxswain from the Coast Guard. We transferred
to our LCP at sea, leaving the larger LST with its tank-dozer to come in
on its own mission, and began the run to shore. For a few minutes the LCPs
ran side-by-side, so close together that we could converse with the people
in the neighboring boats; we gradually drew apart, however, spacing out to
the prescribed intervals for landing.

Our course took us past an
enormous battleship whose big guns were blasting away in a softening-up
mission. Great balls of fire and clouds of black smoke belched from her
guns as she fired in rapid succession, sending shells screaming over our
heads to explode on the mainland of Europe.
As we drew near Omaha Beach in the early morning light, we easily
recognized the landmarks and features we had seen on the scale model, and
were beginning to receive fire from shore. At this distance, shells from
German 88's, a very sleek and efficient weapon, were plopping into the sea
around us, sending up geysers of spume as they exploded in the water. Some
boats, of course, were hit; one unfortunate craft blew up when a shell
dropped into it and set off the explosives aboard.
The timing of each phase of enormously complicated "Operation Overlord"
had been carefully worked out to the last minute: at H-Hour, M-Minute, the
first infantry units were to go ashore; at H-Hour plus five minutes we
demolition engineers were to land. As thus scheduled, the infantry would
have engaged the enemy, hopefully pushing him back, leaving us free to
proceed with our mission without the necessity of defending ourselves.
Ah, the best laid plans of mice and men ....
It happened that we arrived first in our particular sector, at H-Hour,
M-Minute, at lowest tide, about 6 or 6:30 a.m. The LCP went aground before
we touched shore, and the coxswain told us he could go no further; he was
stuck on a sand bar. He lowered the ramp and we saw that we'd have to wade
a distance of perhaps 50 or 70 yards to get to the beach. I gave the order
to disembark and jumped off the end of the ramp. Well!
The sand bar was under the shallow-draft boat, but it wasn't in front of
the ramp. Loaded down with explosives, carbines, binoculars. prima-cord,
and what-all, we sank like stones. Fortunately, the water was only up to
our necks; fortunately also, there was very little wave action, and we
started to wade in.
The spatter pattern of a cone of machine gun fire was hitting the water's
surface off to our right, and we detoured to the left in order to give it
as wide a berth as possible. That cone of fire never moved closer to us,
to our relief, and we all made it to the beach intact, where we
immediately set to work amid the THUNK of exploding mortar shells and the
whistle of small arms bullets.
The intensive training grind we had gone through so recently tended to
make robots of us; we could think of nothing but the tasks we were
assigned to carry out, and working under withering fire was something we
had never experienced before. It was all so very unreal. One of our men
had been a goof-off and a thorn in our flesh throughout his time in the
outfit; he had even tried to climb over the the fence in the sealed-off
final briefing area to go to town. But here, when the chips were down, he
was as calm as if he were in his own backyard at home, going about his
assigned duties completely ignoring the danger, as if it were a
commonplace thing to work under desperate conditions.

The obstacles we demolished were wooden poles standing upright
in the sand; each pole was taller than a man, for tides are deep on that
coast, and many had Teller anti-tank mines secured to their tops, which,
at high tide, would be awash or perhaps just slightly under water; any
boats coming in at high tide, then, would strike the mines and be disabled
or destroyed, Our mission was to cut down the poles with explosives,
detonating the mines as well, to create a passage through which landing
barges coming in could navigate without danger.
For the demolition work each of us carried a quantity of a pliable
explosive substance stuffed into ordinary cotton stockings. We were to
wrap these around the poles, close to the ground, then connect them all
with prima cord, a kind of explosive rope. A fuse was then attached to the
network of cord --- fuses which had been kept waterproof by being sealed
in condoms. When we were preparing that gimmick earlier, there were many
remarks about the waste!
Just when we had made ready and were about to fire the charge, an infantry
detachment landed. We yelled at the colonel leading them to keep his
people back, for they'd be blown to bits if they came forward through the
poles just then. He and his men flattened themselves out on the sand and
we pulled the fuse. We must have done something right, for we got a
successful blow, the blast of the charge ringing each pole pinched it in
two, and they all toppled.
The first part of our mission was now completed; we had felled the posts,
and the tank-dozer could clear them away to create a path through the
obstacles, which, in addition to the posts, consisted of many X-shaped
iron constructions which were about two feet high, fashioned from short
lengths of railroad rails. They resembled the jacks children play with.
The next task was to search for mines in the sand. The man who carried the
mine detector had soon been killed, and I picked up the instrument and
began to use it. By now the tank-dozer had arrived and was beginning to
clear away the fallen poles and "jacks". I happened to be a few yards in
front of the dozer when some unfriendly soul on the Wehrmacht side got a
bead on me; I dropped, hit presumably by machine-gun fire.
"That tank-dozer is going to run over me", I thought, and tried to move
out of its way without much success. (Later, in the hospital in England, I
saw the driver and he assured me he'd seen my fall and wasn't about to run
me down.)
A Medic came up --- a terribly young-looking boy --- and knelt beside me
to help. He was burdened with so much gear that he apologized for not
being able to reach behind himself to get out medications and bandages. I
told him to turn around, tell me what to look for, and I'd fish it out of
his bulging knapsack. While we were doing this he muttered, "Lieutenant,
I'm scared ****less". I assured him he wasn't the only one.
The tank-dozer was put out of commission, so there was no more worry about
being run over, but lying flat on my back, I felt water at my feet and
realized that the tide was coming in. Now there was a new danger: I could
drown here. I tried to scootch up higher, but the tide was faster than I
could move; I owe my life to a couple of the men who sized up the
situation and helped me to a position above the high-water line.
Now, it looked as if I might survive, and I wished that I had my movie
camera with me, since it was impossible to get up and do anything useful.
The morphine which the medic had administered made me groggy, although
still quite aware, and I don't know how long I was there --- maybe an hour
--- before friendly hands put me on a stretcher and carried me to a big
landing barge which had just disgorged its load and was taking wounded
aboard. A missile hit its superstructure and splattered fragments around,
but we backed out safely and drew alongside a destroyer far out to sea,
which took us wounded on and put us in sick bay bunks. Again I could only
marvel at the clockwork precision of the whole operation: if you needed
something, say a destroyer for instance, there it was, waiting for you!
Today, forty years later, an invasion of this sort would simply be
impossible, for a single modern nuclear weapon could wipe out such a
fleet. The Allies were lucky Germany didn't have an atomic bomb.