Operation: Watten (Mission #87), France

Date: 27th August 1943 (Friday)

Unit No: 365th Bombardment Squadron (H), 305th Bombardment Group (H), 1st Air Division, 8th Air Force

Type: B-17F Moonbeam McSwain

Serial No: 42-29530

Code: XK:Y

Location: Near Saint-Omer, France

Base: Chelveston (Station #105), Northamptonshire, England

Pilot: 1st Lt. Don William Moore O-728905 AAF Age 25. KiA (1)

Co Pilot: FO. Robert Julius Coffman T190634 AAF Age 23. PoW * (2)

Navigator: 2nd Lt. James Charles 'Jim' Meade DFC, O-800741 AAF Age 21. PoW ** (3)

Bombardier: 2nd Lt. David Stowe Smith O-729999 AAF Age 25. PoW **

Engineer: S/Sgt. Warren Clifford Seyfried 36323516 AAF Age 23. PoW *** (4)

Radio Operator: Sgt. Harold Monroe Graham 6968380 AAF Age 26. KiA (5)

Ball Turret Gnr: S/Sgt. Joseph F. Kosmicky Jr. 33201258 AAF Age 23. KiA (6)

Left Waist Gnr: S/Sgt. Trevor Wilson Falkner Jr. 37108297 AAF Age 29. PoW ***

Right Waist Gnr: Sgt. David Jack (Jacob) Pearlman 16070234 AAF Age 23. KiA

Tail Gnr: S/Sgt. James Andrew King 6399420 AAF Age 27. Evader (7)

Photographer: S/Sgt. William Stephen Wood 19065441 AAF Age 27. Evader (8)

* Stalag 7A, Moosburg, Bavaria (Work Camps 3324-46 Krumbachstrasse and 3368 Munich).

** Stalag Luft 3, Sagan-Silesia, Germany, now Żagań in Poland.

*** Stalag 17B, Krems-Gneixendorf near Krems, Austria.

Note: The name for B-17F 42-29530 has been variously described as Moonbeam McSwain or Boom Town Jnr. The ‘B-17 Nose Art Name Directory’ by Wallace R. Forman records this B-17 as being the latter.

REASON FOR LOSS:

On the 27th August 1943 the 305th Bombardment Group joined a force of 224 bombers for the first attack by the 8th Air Force against the V-weapons site in the Foret d’Eperlecques (Eperlecques Forest)about 2 km (1¼ mls) WSW of Watten and about 10 km (6¼ mls) NNW of Saint-Omar.

Above: B-17F 42-29530 ‘Moonbeam McSwain’ (Courtesy of Don Moores Granddaughter and the American Air Museum)

Above: The site of the Watten V-weapons site in the Foret d’Eperlecques as it is today

When they reached the Initial Point (IP) at Saint-Omar a Flak burst caught the aircraft between the left waist gun position and the ball turret and knocked out their oxygen and the inter-phone. Just as the lead aircraft dropped its bombs they were hit again by Flak between #1 and #2 engines which caught fire, streaming flames to the tail and began to vibrate violently.

The aircraft entered into a tight spin and the left wing broke off resulting in both parts of the aircraft plummeted straight down and crashed near Saint-Omer in France.

Above: Crash wreckage of B-17F-42-29530 Moonbeam McSwain (Courtesy of Phil Jackson (IVM Duxford Volunteer - Roger Freeman and the American Air Museum))

(1) It was reported to S/Sgt. Wood that 1st Lt. Moore had been badly wounded and that he had died in hospital the following morning.

(2) Flight Officer (FO) Coffman was not the regular co-pilot from this crew.

(3) 2nd Lt. Meade’s story in his own words:

"I'll say it once guys" came the voice of our captain, Don Moore, over the intercom "Bail out, bail out, were going down!" Our B17 bomber had just taken a direct flak burst in our two left engines, and we were on fire plunging toward the earth. My heart was in my mouth in frozen fear as the awful meaning of the command "Bail out" penetrated my brain.

I tried to raise my hands to strap on my chest parachute and realized I couldn't move them. A photographer, an extra eleventh man in our normal ten-man crew, had gone berserk and was grasping my wrists in an iron vice. Precious seconds were slipping by as I vainly tried to free myself by biting his nose and ears! The noise level; was hellish, blotting out all means of verbal communication.

Suddenly, Smith, the bombardier, realized the situation, and punched the crazed photographer in the groin fiercely. In pain he released my arms! I was free to attach my parachute, kick open the escape hatch, wave good-bye to Smith and finally bail out.

Lord, you were with me every second of the way in that plunging, dying plane which exploded in a fire ball two minutes after I left it. I praise you and I thank you for your providential care of me.

As my chute opened, swinging me gently in the air, I could see Moonbeam, our B-17, in her death dive. Then, boom, a red ball of fire as Moonbeam exploded some ten miles away. Later I learned that Don Moore our captain had perished in the explosion attempting until that fateful moment to keep the plane as level as possible for those bailing out. "No greater love than this can a man have, than to lay down his life for his friends". With deepest gratitude “O Lord, I salute your friend and providential agent, Don Moore”.

A few hours after landing in occupied France near the Belgium border, I was captured by a German patrol searching with dogs for all the parachutists they had observed coming down that early evening of August 27, 1943. Smith, our bombardier, who made it safely down, told me later what had happened to the fear crazed photographer, I screamed at him to jump," Smith said," and what he did was pull his ripcord which opened his chute in the burning plane setting it on fire. Then he jumped with his chute ablaze, and in seconds he had nothing supporting him down but a few charred strings. The Germans found his crushed body and buried him nearby. "Requiescat in pace" was my only comment on hearing this grim news.

Fantastic as it certainly was, by some mistake, Smith and I wound up together in the same cell in a civil prison in Lille, north France. We spent three unforgettably miserable days there until the Germans happily discovered their error, and transported us under guard of a friendly German colonel returning to Germany via a first-class compartment on a French

The pleasant train ride across north France to Frankfurt Germany, (for a brief 3 week stay) was in marked contrast to our trip across Germany to our permanent Prison of War camp, called Stalag Luft 3. outside the village of Sagan some seventy miles southeast of Berlin. We were loaded at least fifty men to a cattle car, the historically famous French "Quarente Hommes ou Huit Chevant" (40 men or 8 horses). Three nights and days we crawled along at 20 mph, all doors and windows barb wired shut, in the boring stench of 50 unwashed male bodies crammed on top of one another.

Finally, we arrived at the PoW camp in Sagan where the quality of life improved greatly. Stalag Luft 3 was one of the largest German PoW camps for downed Allied airman British and Canadian fliers were housed in the east compound, while Americans, already numbering over 2,000 men on my arrival in October 1943 were held in the west compound.

James Charles Meade was born on the 9th May 1922 in Bellerose, Nassau, New York City.

He was awarded the Air Medal (AM) on the 8th September 1943 and the Distinguished Flying Medal (DFC) on the 13th September 1943.

He was honourably discharged from the USAAF on the 5th August 1945.

Above Courtesy of the Newsday Suffolk Edition, dated 30th January 2005

James passed away on the 26th January 2005 and laid to rest at the Long Island National Cemetery.

Above: James Charles Meade Grave marker (Courtesy of XCHIEF-FindAGrave)

(4) S/Sgt. Seyfried was repatriated to the United States in May 1945 and admitted to a General Hospital for continuing treatment for a bullet wound to the stomach. He was retired for a disability from the USAAF in Sep 1945.

(5) This was Sgt. Graham’s first mission. It was reported that he had pulled his parachute rip-cord before he baled out through the radio hatch right into the flames streaming back from the wing and burning engines. He was last seen falling with his parachute on fire.

(6) S/Sgt. Falkner Jr. reported that just before he baled out he heard a shell crash through the aircraft at the ball turret position and when he turned to look there was a hole right where the turret which held S/Sgt. Kosmicky Jr. had been.

(7) S/Sgt. King crawled into the waist and saw S/Sgt. Falkner jump followed by someone else who he did not identify and also saw S/Sgt. Kosmicky Jr. climbing out of the ball turret. He jumped almost immediately at around 14,000 ft and delayed opening his parachute until about around 8000 ft. Looking up he saw the aircraft ablaze, losing altitude, still flying straight and level flight and then make a 180 degree turn over the target area.

He counted two other parachutes in the air before turning his attention to his upcoming landing in what appeared to be in the back yard of a farm. The other two parachutes landed before him and not too far from his position.

He saw people and a number of German soldiers running towards their location some 50 yards away from where he had landed. Fortunately he came down on the other side of a high hedge but did not have enough time to hide his parachute. He saw two of his crew being captured by the German soldiers and thought that they might have been S/Sgt. Falkner and Sgt. Pearlman. See (5) above.

As soon as he slipped his harness a woman standing on the doorstep of a nearby house pointed to a haystack at one end of the yard. He then threw his flying helmet and throat mike in the opposite direction and ran to the haystack and burrowed into it drawing the straw around him just as the German soldiers entered the yard. The women misdirected them and the Germans left. He waited a while and then crawled out of the haystack, pushed through a thick high hedge and lay in some tall grass until he was sure that no Germans were nearby.

He then sneaked over a road into a ditch and covered himself with some weeds. By this time it was approaching 19:00 hrs and he could hear the noise of the searching Germans until about 23:00 hrs during which time he saw none of the Germans cross the road to search the ditch.

When it was sufficiently dark, sometime around midnight, he started off walking in a southerly direction through the fields. Except for having to cross numerous fences and hedges he experienced no issues and was still walking at daybreak. He came across a small farmhouse from which a farmer emerged to gather firewood. After watching for a few minutes he made himself known to the farmer, who appeared to recognise who he was and beckoned him over to his home.

The farmer provided him with some breakfast and also prepared a package of food for him to take. After finishing his breakfast he was directed to head in a northerly direction. He could not understand why he should head north but nevertheless did so. Apparently he was near Saint Omar.

He walked all day through the fields, spoke to none of the workers he spotted and was cautious not to get within speaking distance. He was sure that some of the workers recognised who he was but none of them spoke to him.

At about 16:00 hrs he came across two girls washing clothes in a ditch and approached them. He made himself understood by gesturing that he was an American airman and that he was hungry. They gave him some food and then continued walking north.

At around midnight he found a haystack and slept in it until daybreak. He had not realised that the haystack was in a yard until he crawled out and was greeted by a barking dog. A woman came running out of the nearby house and before he could say anything she realised who he was and called him into the house.

She provided him with a meal and sent a young boy on an errand who returned shortly afterwards. S/Sgt. King was then directed to walk east and after about an hour he was seen by a farmer working in a field who recognised who he was and called him over. He pointed across the fields to two women and a man who were working. When he approached the group he found that they had a bundle of cloths ready for him. He realised that this was probably as a result of the errand the young boy had been sent on.

He changed into the civilian clothes except for his khaki shirt and heated suit after which one of the group took him to a house which he was given a note which had the message, written in English, "Don’t be afraid and stay here until 5 pm".

His journey from there was arranged by the 'Shelburn' organisation which was established by two Canadian Army volunteers, Capt. Lucien Dumais and Lt. Ray LaBrosse.

S/Sgt. King was one of the 16 evaders (13 USAAF and 3 RAF) on the first operation from Bonaparte beach. ‘Bonaparte I’ was on the night of 28th/29th January 1944 during which the evaders were collected by the Motor Gun Boat-503 (MGB-503) from the beach off Kéruzeau some 25 km (11½ mls) NNW of Saint-Brieuc.

Operation ‘Bonaparte’ was a series of British naval undertakings between ports of England and Saint-Brieuc on the northern coast of Brittany and in the northern part of German-occupied France by Motor Gun Boats (MGB) of the 15th MGB Flotilla between the 18th January and the 24th March 1944.

James Andrew King was born on the 14th August 1916 in Norton, Mississippi. He passed away on the 9th April 1976 in Jackson, Mississippi.

(8) S/Sgt. Wood was from the 8th Air Force Combat Camera Unit. He did not know any of the crew personally before the mission because he was transferred to the aircraft shortly before take-off.

He was in the nose compartment during the bomb run. No sooner had they been hit by a second burst of Flak the Navigator tapped him on the shoulder pointing to the smoke pouring into the nose.

Soon thereafter he saw someone opening the escape hatch, but because of the smoke he could not tell who it was but thought that it was either the Pilot or Co-pilot. Whoever it was jumped followed by the navigator and bombardier, with him following and the other pilot behind him.

He waited until he had fallen to about 12,000 ft before opening his parachute. He saw no other parachutes in the air.

He landed in a garden between two hotels near one of the arms of a Y-fork on a canal about 3¼ km (2 mls) north of Saint-Omer.

Believed to be the confluence of Le Grand Leeck and Rivière du Moerelack at La Redoute

On landing he badly sprained his ankle which bothered him for a couple of weeks. He gathered up his parachute and tried to hide it quickly. A number of French people nearby wildly waved at him to move away, indicating that the Germans were coming.

A Frenchmen brought him a boat like kayak and indicated that he had better be on his way quickly. He was told that he should go to the fork in the canal and proceed north up the other arm. He had no sooner made a good start when a couple of bullets hit the water in front of him followed by the crack of rifle shots. He did not think he had a chance of getting away so he threw up his hands in surrender. When he heard a couple of more shots being fired he grabbed the paddle and started away as fast as he could.

He later learned from the French that the two Germans who fired upon him had been shot and killed and their bodies hidden in the mud of the canal that night.

Soon after he had turned into the other the fork of the canal he jumped in, swam to the bank and hid near a tree. Within five minutes some Frenchmen came along in a large boat and took him up the other side of the canal to a cow shed where he spent the night.

They brought him some food and a tasty mixture of cognac, milk and coffee. They also took all his clothes except for his shoes and gave him some ill-fitting garments. His shoes were later taken away also because of their trademark. The next morning a Frenchmen arrived in a boat with his wife and took him to the outskirts of Saint-Omer.

They started into town with his wife going on ahead to look for any dangers. When she saw a gendarme she became frightened, threw up her hands, and both of them told him that they could do nothing more for him. He turned around and started walking north by himself. He passed a parade ground with about 100 German soldiers on it, but in spite of his great concern they paid no attention to him as he hobbled along. Before much further he found himself in a cul-de-sac of canals.

He stumbled into a place which might he thought might have been a brothel although the 20 or so women there did not look like prostitutes. A couple of them secured a boat and took him through a maze of small canals to a tiny pond where they hid him in a hunting hut apparently used for shooting ducks. He slept there for the rest of that day and night. From there my journey was arranged.

Although the details of his journey across France are not known his statement of information on enemy activities over the period 27th August to the 6th November 1943 provides a rough route across France.

He passed through Fruges, about 27 km (17 mls) south of Saint-Omer, then Hesdin and onto Paris, where he spent 9 to 10 days. After a journey of some 780 km (485 mls) he passed through the town of Tarbes, some 57 km (35½ mls) from the Spanish frontier. which he crossed on the 6th November 1943.

He was eventually released from Spanish custody and was escorted to Gibraltar on the 28th November 1943. On the 2nd December 1943 he left Gibraltar by air and landed in the UK at RAF Brentwaters the next day.

Burial details:

1st Lt. Don Williamson Moore. Air Medal. Repatriated and laid to rest at the Toledo Memorial Park, Sylvania, Ohio. Born on the 9th June 1918 in Paulding County, Ohio. Son of William J. and Grace Nell (née Williamson) Moore of Sylvania, Lucas, Ohio, USA.

Above: Grave marker for Sgt. Harold M. Graham (Courtesy of John Church – FindAGrave)

Sgt. Harold Monroe Graham. Repatriated and laid to rest at the Elmwood Cemetery, Birmingham, Alabama. Born 28th November 1916 in Birmingham, Alabama. Son of Thomas D. and Daisy Mae (née Lanford) Graham of Birmingham, Alabama, USA.

S/Sgt. Joseph F. Kosmicky Jr. Air Medal, Purple Heart (Oak Leaf Cluster). Normandy American Cemetery, Plot A, Row 17, Grave 4. Born on the 28th January 1920 in Baltimore, Maryland. Son of Joseph Francis and Veronica Kosmicky. Husband to Josephine Ester (née Gibson) of Casper, Natrona, Wyoming, USA.

Sgt. David Jack ‘Jacob’ Pearlman. Repatriated and laid to rest at the Beth Olam Cemetery in Hollywood, Los Angeles. Born on the 27th September 1919 in Chicago, Illinois. Son of Myer and Anna (née Schwartz) Pearlman of Chicago, Cook County, Illinois, USA.

Researched by Ralph Snape for Aircrew Remembered and dedicated to the relatives of this crew (Sep 2024). Thanks to Ken Stoll, a nephew of 2nd Lt. Meade, for his first hand account. Other Updates by Aircrew Remembered (Sep 2025).

Other sources listed below:

Those who have long enjoyed such privileges as we enjoy forget in time that men have died to win them. Franklin Delano Roosevelt