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A Pilot's Wartime Diary

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By FRANCES W. BEKAFIGO, The Tampa Tribune

Published: December 18, 2007

TAMPA - My father was a young Army lieutenant and pilot in World War II. His name was Kermit David Wooldridge. Everyone called him Woody.

He flew the formidable Flying Fortress B-17 aircraft in bombing raids over Nazi-occupied Europe as part of the 8th Air Force Division. The division's pilots and crew took off from airstrips in England. They were required to fly 25 missions before being assigned out of air combat.

Their job was to drop bombs and hinder the Nazis by knocking out German-occupied factories, industrial plants, bridges and harbors throughout Europe. Along the way, they had to battle German fighter planes and were attacked by missiles from German ground troops. Hundreds of B-17s went down in flames.

The loss of men was enormous, and pilots were lucky if they survived the required 25 air raids.

My father was one of those who made it. He returned from the war, and he and my mother raised a family of four children. He earned a college degree and became a teacher after retiring as an lieutenant colonel in 1958.

Dad died in 1994, and I regret not asking him about his service. He didn't talk about it when my siblings and I were growing up. We weren't curious about it, either.

But after his death, I began to read the wartime diary he kept in 1943. The entries are carefully typed and describe each of his 25 combat missions.

I discovered he had survived one of the worst days in aviation history, known as Black Thursday. On Oct. 14, 1943, more than 200 Allied bombers, including my father's, flew to Schweinfurt, Germany, in a failed effort to destroy ball-bearing plants.

Out of some 2,900 men, more than 650 didn't return.

His instructions in the diary are: "To be sent to my wife, Mrs. Kermit D. Wooldridge, in case I don't make it back one of these days."

Even today, those words haunt me. At age 26, my father had faced the very real possibility of death.

According to his entries, in the weeks and months ahead his combat missions would include targets in France, Norway and Germany. One of his planes was named "Little Maggie," for my mother.

Here are excerpts:

July 17, 1943

Target: Hanover, Germany

(Raid 2)

"About 45 enemy fighters ... started the old cat and mouse game. Me being the mouse. For a few seconds, I was fascinated watching them come plunging at us from all directions. ... However, it didn't take long to realize they weren't out to put on a show. The ship was shuddering and rocking from the impact and explosion of 20 mm shells. ... When we were down to about 12,000 feet the ground batteries filled the air with flak. I mean it was so thick that you could get out and walk on it. Well a burst hit under the left wing and blew the whole gas tank right out through the top. Another hit my #2 engine ... and shattered the glass window near my head. Things were so serious that it was really funny. I looked over at my co-pilot and winked at him and he grinned right back. Quite a boy, that 'Tex.'"

July 28, 1943

Target: Kassel, Germany

(Raid 5)

"Frankly, I am very glad to be able to write this one down. ... About 25 E/A enemy aircraft came from someplace. ... All 25 of the little buggers started making passes at me, and it didn't take long to find that they meant business. They started throwing plenty of lead and a new type of rocket that would explode and scatter a bunch of high explosive missiles that would also explode ... another group of enemy planes appeared overhead and started dropping aerial bombs on us. And, of course, the ground batteries started throwing flak up. ... 20mm shells were hitting us about that time and were exploding inside the ship. ...

"The fighters redoubled their efforts seeing that none of my guns were firing. They knocked the #2 engine clear off the plane and #4 out of action and put a nice hole in the #3 petrol tank. Gas was leaking and soon caught fire. I told everyone to put on their chute and get ready to bail out. That is when they told me there weren't enough chutes. I hope I never have the feeling I had at that moment. Should I bail out those who had chutes and let the rest die, or should I try to ditch, or should I try and make it back? That was the question. Well we were about five minutes from the coast now so we decided to make it back or all blow up together."

Dec. 13, 1943

Target: Bremen, Germany

(Raid 25)

"Well exactly one year ago today I was awarded my wings. This was my last mission. Sure have been waiting a long time for this one, yet never really believing that I would make it. Our losses have been enormous. ... My squadron has been completely wiped out four times with the exception of myself in the eight months that I have been here ...

"Today our target was Bremen? Germany. ... We dropped our bombs OK. The flak was light and inaccurate. There were no E/A! Although the raid was actually very easy, I sure did sweat on it. Every time a burst of flak came within sight of us, I would jump and think 'this is it.' In spite of all I could do to get us shot down, I made it back! When we landed at the base, I was rolled in some ice-cold mud, and then the CO handed me a piece of paper and said, 'If you sign this you will leave for the States in the morning.' Of course, I signed it. Then he said, 'Read what you have signed.' I read that I had volunteered for 25 more missions. I took care of that in a hurry.

"Amen."

ABOUT THE WRITER

Frances Bekafigo works as an archivist in The Tampa Tribune news archives and research department. She became fascinated with her father's World War II service because of his wartime diary and ordered his military records that showed his rank and where he was stationed during a 24-year Army career that began in 1934.

She learned her dad, Kermit David Wooldridge, had volunteered to join the Army Air Forces shortly after the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. He learned to fly combat planes at the Sebring Bomber Pilot Training Base.

Bekafigo's research included attending a talk by a World War II veteran who had flown the B-17, the airplane that helped the Allies defeat the Germans. She also spent several hours inside a restored B-17. "I did not fly. But I got a feel for how it must have been. The whole plane is nothing but bombs and guns."

Bekafigo is the oldest of four siblings. She was born in 1944, the year after her father returned from flying combat raids in the 8th Air Force Division.

Before joining the Tribune in 2000, she worked as an operations manager for Hartz Mountain Corp. for 25 years and oversaw breeding and shipping of parakeets, hamsters and tropical fish from the company's former plant in Gibsonton.

To read the diary in its entirety, go to mysite .verizon.net/res72uuj/diary.html. Frances Bekafigo can be reached at (813) 259-7069 or fbekafigo@tampatrib.com.

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