Ordway Gates
Ordway Gates was born on December 1, 1921 in Chesterfield Court House, Virginia. He died in Williamsburg Virginia on January 12, 2011. He left the College of William and Mary to join the U.S. Army Air Corps on May 28, 1942 and completed pre-flight training at Santa Ana, California and bombardier training in Deming, New Mexico. He was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant on October 2, 1943. He flew missions with the 336th Squadron of the 95th Bomb Group. He flew his last combat mission on July 21, 1944. This is the story of that mission.
In April of 1944, we picked up our B-17 at Hunter Field in Savannah, Georgia and ferried it to England via Labrador, Iceland, and Scotland. We began flying missions over Germany and Occupied Europe in early May. Between May 1st and July 21st, we flew 17 missions, including a double mission on D-Day. On July 21st, our target was the Messerschmitt aircraft assembly plant in Regensburg.
We completed our bombing run and were able to release our bombs successfully. As we were leaving the target, we received damage from both anti-aircraft fire and fighter attacks. We initially lost an inboard engine (#2) and were forced to drop out of formation. Fortunately, we were protected by P-51s and were able to maintain control of the aircraft. However, almost immediately, we lost an outboard engine (#4), which the pilot was unable to feather, and which continued to windmill.
It seemed doubtful that we could make it back to our base at Horham but our navigator and pilot thought that we had a chance to get to the Channel and ditch. Shortly thereafter, we lost a third engine (#3) and were unable to maintain altitude. Even after throwing everything we could overboard, we were flying close to 75 knots IAS and losing several hundred feet of altitude per minute. Our navigator thought that we might still be able to get out of Germany and maybe to France or Luxembourg.
The pilot ordered the crew to bailout when we reached 5000 feet altitude. All 10 members of the crew exited the aircraft successfully. The plane was left on autopilot and, after the crew was clear of the ship, our fighter escort shot it down. I later found out that we were in the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg, near the town of Ettelbruck.
I exited the aircraft by diving out of the bomb bay. My parachute opened and I drifted down into a forest and landed in the top of a tree. I grabbed the trunk and a limb, released myself from the chute, and climbed down. I looked to see if anyone was around and could hear a lot of noise, gun shots and dogs barking. I decided to get away from the area as quickly as I could.
I made my way to the edge of the woods and looked across a field to see what was happening. I heard a noise behind me, and when I turned around, saw a young man approaching on a bicycle. He came up to me, and in perfect English, asked if I had been on the crashed airplane. I answered affirmatively and he responded: “Do you want me to help you escape?” After I said “Yes,” he led me deep into the forest, maybe one or two miles from where we started. Everything was quiet and he seemed very confident of what he was doing. He found me a hiding place and told me to hide quickly if anyone showed up before he returned.
No one came near my hiding place during the next several hours. My new friend returned in the late afternoon with bread, cheese, and a bottle of wine. He said that plans were being made to bring me into a neighboring town and that he would return later to guide me to a safe place. Before he left, he told me how I would recognize his signal when he came for me. I knew that my best chance was with him and that I shouldn’t make any move, at least until the next morning.
After dark – maybe 8 or 9 o’clock – I fell asleep and slept for several hours. When a noise woke me, I struck a match and looked at my watch. It was well after midnight and my first reaction was that I had overslept and missed the signal. Since I didn’t have any alternative, I just stayed put and in about 20 or 30 minutes I heard the signal. I returned his signal and he said “Come with me.”
The path to town was under the surveillance of a number of his compatriots who let us know that it was okay to continue through each checkpoint. When we finally got to Ettelbruck, the town was completely blacked out. My escort tapped on the door of a two-story building. The tap was returned and I was taken into the house.
Imagine my surprise when I saw six or eight people waiting for me. This was the home of Joseph Leyder, his wife, and their infant son. My breakfast was being prepared and everyone was helping. I’ll never forget that breakfast! Mrs. Leyder had made scrambled eggs, bacon, home fried potatoes, bread, and coffee. After I ate, they took me to a room that had been prepared for me. They suggested that I might be a little tired and should try to rest.
I stayed with Joseph and his family for about a week and they were very good to me. Some of their friends came to see me every day and told me stories about the difficulties and hardships that they had faced since the Nazis overran their country. They really hated the Germans. They had a doctor come and check my left ankle that had been injured when I landed in the trees. He put a splint on my ankle and gave me a crutch.
A member of Joseph’s family had been conscripted into the German army and came to see me – in his German uniform. At first, I wasn’t so sure about him! The Germans were searching the area for the downed American fliers and it was decided that I should be moved to a new location since the searchers were getting closer to the Leyder home. They made their plans for the move, and one night after dark, I was moved across town to the home of Henri Muller. Henri lived in an area that had already been searched.
Before I left the Leyder home, I was told that four members of the crew had been captured upon landing and that six of us, with the help of the Luxembourgers, were being hidden in various locations.
Henri Muller and his wife, Madeleine, took excellent care of me while I was with them, but they had two small children and were very nervous about me being there. Nevertheless, they were willing to assist me and I stayed at their home for several weeks. During that time my ankle had a chance to heal and I was able to move around much better than before. During my stay there, I was told that two members of the crew were being hidden in the basement of a railway station in a nearby village. They didn’t know their names, but from their descriptions, I was sure that they were Pat Tortora (radio operator) and Bill Shuster (ball turret gunner). I didn’t know who else was in Luxembourg.
Finally, it was felt that the Germans were too close to me and that I should be moved out of Ettelbruck. A Sunday afternoon was picked for my move. The Germans were having a big meeting in Ettelbruck, and it was believed that most of them would be at the meeting and not looking for me. I was given a bicycle that had been stolen from the Germans. I wasn’t told where I was going but I was taken out of town and toward Belgium. The entire route was under surveillance and as we met a bike going the other way, a nod from the rider told my escort that everything was clear ahead. We travelled for several hours, including stopping at an inn for refreshments.
The house in Rambrouch (Claren-Rodesch)
We reached our destination shortly after dark. I was in the village of Rambrouch and I met Camille Claren. I would be living in the Claren home with Camille, his wife, and their four daughters. Their daughter Maria was close to my age and spoke English flawlessly. The rest of the family spoke little, if any, English. Their youngest daughter, Yvonne, who was 17 or 18 years of age, spoke some English. I had very little contact with anyone other than the Claren family. I stayed with them for nearly two months.
The last day I stayed with them has special significance. The Germans were quickly retreating to their homeland and I could finally leave the house and meet the people of Rambrouch. They were planning a party for me since all of the Germans were gone.
Planks open to secret space behind the wall
Early in the afternoon, Maria came to me with a friend and said that there had been an accident outside of town. An American fighter plane had crashed in a meadow and they were afraid that the pilot was badly injured or dead. They asked me to go with them and check out the situation. When I got there, many people were already there and waiting for me. The plane, a P47 Thunderbolt, was in two pieces and the pilot was still strapped in the cockpit. I checked his pulse and he was obviously beyond help. We got him out of the aircraft and I searched his pockets for any identification. I took one of his dog tags, his wallet, and his escape kit. About that time, some people brought forward a coffin and laid the pilot in it. A lady came forward with an American flag that she had made and placed it on the closed coffin. She had planned to wave it when the Americans liberated the town. Six men carried it, ahead of a large number of people, into the Catholic Church in Rambrouch. It made a lasting impression on one grateful American airman!
Shortly thereafter, a jeepload of Americans showed up looking for the downed P-47 pilot. They found me. I identified myself as a member of the Eighth Air Force who had been forced to bailout over Luxembourg and who had been protected by its people since July. I told them where the pilot’s body was and they made arrangements to retrieve it. The leader also said that I would have to go with them too. As a result, I missed my party! I got my gear together and thanked everyone, especially the Claren family, for their help. Finally after many sad goodbyes and hugs, we left.
The rest is history. I made my way through Europe to Paris and hitched a ride to London. Shortly thereafter, I received orders to return to the States.