“You’re not getting any flak; you’re not getting any fighters. You’re just hurrying back home. That’s all it amounts to,” said Troy Hollar while at Chievres Air Base, Belgium, the very base where flak batteries brought down his B-17 Flying Fortress on April 13, 1944.
Seventy years later, the World War II technical sergeant and top turret gunner is back at the site where the Belgian resistance helped him and fellow Royal Flush crew members escape the Nazis. Hollar was recognized at a commemoration for his aircrew and later was made an honorary citizen of the town of Silly where he safely parachuted to after his plane was hit.
Members of the 424th Air Base Squadron Color Guard, which is part of the 86th Operations Group, took part in the ceremony, recognizing the events that happened that day so many years ago.
“April 13 was just like any other mission day for a member of the 384th Bomb Group,” Hollar said. “You get up at 4 a.m., breakfast at 5, go to the gun shack, wipe your gun dry, put it together, get your parachute, go to a briefing at 6 and go to your plane.”
But that day it wasn’t just another mission for the crew of the Royal Flush.
At the briefing, Hollar found out the targets were ball bearing plants in Schweinfurt, Germany. The parts were critical to German tanks and aircraft.
“That was one of the hardest targets to get,” he said.
Additionally, they were flying a different aircraft that day. Because the Royal Flush was in for repairs, the aircraft was a newer model, and that small difference would come into play later in the day.
“In loading my gun, I hit the wrong switch that I didn’t know was there, and about 20 rounds of ammo piled up on top of the gun,” he said. “It had to be put back one round at a time. We were almost to France by the time I got that right.”
When they got close to the target, the fighters hit them hard.
“Sometimes fighters would attack three abreast,” Hollar said. “Sometimes from the rear they would attack rolling while firing to confuse the gunners. There was no damage to our group though. When we turned in to make the bomb run, you could see the flak all over the city, a solid wall of flak just like a heavy cloud, and you wonder how you can fly an airplane through all that and still come out the other side, but when we got in, it wasn’t quite that bad.
“As we were coming out, I looked back and watched the wing behind us come out of the flak,” he continued. “It was like they would just pop out of it like from heavy clouds. When (we were on our way back), the navigator called over the intercom that it was 10 minutes to the channel. Very shortly after that (the Germans at Chièvres Air Base) started firing at us. They had us zeroed in right away. Two flak burst in front and back, one on our right wing tip and one on the left.”
There was nothing he could do but watch, he said.
“It was like that for a few bursts, then one hit the tip of our left wing,” Hollar said. “It knocked us way up over on our right wing. That scared me, because I thought it might fall into a tailspin and I would have a real hard time getting out.”
The pilot got the plane level, but their wing was on fire and they were in a flat spin, Hollar added.
Hollar went to the bomb bay doors to parachute out, but the release cable for the doors wasn’t there on this model. Fortunately, one of the other crew members knew what to do and Hollar was able to jump.
“The pilot was still at the controls with the wing on fire,” Hollar said. “I just put my hands out, one to keep my head from hitting the bomb bay doors and the other held over the rip cord so it wouldn’t catch anything.
“After the rush of the air after you leave the plane, everything is dead calm. There’s no sensation of movement or falling or nothing. You could have gone to sleep if you had enough time,” he continued.
Only four of the crew members were able to parachute and escape the explosion and ensuing crash.
Antonio de La Serna, 11 at the time, witnessed the crash.
“We were playing at the chateau when we saw the plane coming in,” de La Serna said. “I still remember the sound as the plane was heading down. Then there was the explosion. A few seconds later we saw two parachutes coming down. We didn’t see the others but heard about them later.”
After hitting the ground, Hollar started looking for the best direction to quickly get into hiding. Being farm country, there weren’t many choices.
“(After landing) I just started to cross the pasture to (the) trees and I heard people calling,” he said. “I looked back and these two civilians were frantically calling and waving for me to hurry back. I rushed back, and they started walking real fast toward the house. The (German soldiers) reached my landing site and started firing at us.
“We ran around the house, and there was a big hay stack there with a hole in it at the bottom,” he continued. “I jumped into that, and they stuffed it closed.”
Hollar said his head was only about six inches under the straw, and he could hear the German soldiers talking to the Belgians, asking where the American went. Fortunately, the Belgians didn’t give up his position. After a couple of hours the Belgians brought him some warm milk and a sandwich, but he only ate half the sandwich and put the other half in his pocket.
“I didn’t know when I would get anything else,” he said.
Later that night, he was whisked across pastures to another house where a big supper was waiting for him, he said.
After about a month in Fouleng, they moved him to Brussels where he spent five months in hiding with numerous Belgian families. He was provided a fake passport with the name Camille Juanau, and on his work card he was listed as an editor.
On Sept. 3, 1944, British troops liberated Brussels and soon after, Hollar started his trip back to rejoin the U.S. Army.
Hollar said he doesn’t remember the resistance members much, but has fond memories of the members of the families he lived with.
“They were real nice and kind and did just about anything for my well-being,” he added.
Hollar enlisted in the regular Army on Nov. 19, 1941, and was discharged Nov. 1, 1945. He served for the entire U.S. involvement in the war.