This was really against all odds, not only were they hit by flak, causing injury and damage to their aircraft, but damage was caused to the engines, which one by one were packing up. This meant that not only was the aircraft losing height but also equally important they were losing their normal speed. This in effect made them sitting ducks for enemy fighters. On one occasion, German fighters came within a few hundred yards of them, but then attacked another of the Squadron's Flying Fortresses and shot it down.

Like our own soldiers, sailors and airmen, the American Forces were about the same age, many only barely 18 years of age.

I can only name this one crew but in my own small way I would like to dedicate the story to all those hundreds of B 17 crews who fought the war on our behalf as well as helping to free the World of evil. A thought for those "Boys" who didn't return from the many, many bombing raids that were conducted from our shores. Let’s give a quiet thought for those Mothers and Wives who wouldn't see their loved ones again. Sadly and probably the worst of all is that many of them have no known graves, being shot down with the aircraft exploding or maybe being shot down into the sea.

We are ever grateful for their help throughout the 2nd World War.

"Spirit of Winsome Winn II" crewmen:
Pilot: Norman DeFrees
Co-pilot: George Hunt
Navigator: Ivan Moody
Bombardier: Ellis Miller
Radio Operator: William Wright
Top Gunner: Lloyd Moore
Ball Gunner: Luther (Smitty) Smith
Tail Gunner: Jack Kushner
R/W/Gunner: John "Hap" Ecker
L/W/Gunner: Harley Hallam

The story begins during the early hours of the morning of Tuesday, February 8th, 1944 at Grafton Underwood, the home to the USAAF base and airfield in Northampton shire for the 305th and 384th Bomb Groups as well as both parts of the 1st Bomb Division, the 8th USAAF's B17 Flying Fortresses.

The crews were briefed and very soon the Bomb Group Division dispatched 120 aircraft, which were quickly airborne. Their target was the marshalling yards at Frankfurt, Germany. One of the B17s that took off that dark and dismal morning was named "The Spirit of Winsome Winn II", Number 42-37793 SO-X. This aircraft was flown by 2nd Lieutenant Norman DeFrees and nine crewmembers, which were already involved in the drama. For on January 9th, 1944, a little more than a month earlier and in a different B17, they had crash-landed at Little Staunton, due to an undercarriage failure. The aircraft was a write-off, but luckily there were no injuries to the crew, although they were pretty well shaken up, as you would expect. 

On another flight, a practice mission with another crew's aircraft, again there was a problem with the landing gear and this time Norman bellied the aircraft in, perfect and no one was hurt. Norman DeFrees, taking up the story, in his own words, says that it was "a rare and beautiful day over southwestern Europe and very clear.

"We had assembled after take-off at 28,000 feet, having a very strong westerly wind and arrived without incident. This flight took about 2 hours. We were over the target and released our bombs. I remember that it was so clear that you could actually see the snow on the ground and the muzzle flash of the Anti-Aircraft 88's on the ground.

It was at this point, just after "Bombs Away" that a huge blast of black flak appeared above the nose, a short distance ahead of the aircraft. I noted the oil pressure start to fall on the left outboard engine and I then quickly hit the "Feather" button. Seconds later, I noticed the same thing occurring to the right outboard and got it feathered. Our nose dropped and despite full throttle and 45 inches of manifold pressure on the two inboard engines, we were losing height at 150 feet per minute and only flying at 95 mph. I called for the Navigator, Ivan Moody and was told that he would be along shortly. I told him the problems that we had. He plotted a great course and we evaded any further flak.

I called the radio room and told Wright, the Radio Operator, to get Smitty, Luther Smith, the Ball-Turret Gunner, out of there and to see if between them they could drop the "ball-turret" in order to lesson the weight of the plane. At this point, about the French border we were down from 28,000 feet to 8,000 feet. I felt the ball-turret go and the plane's speed immediately leapt from 95 mph to 110 mph and I decided to then let the aircraft down to 1500 feet, giving relief to the two inboard engines which had by then been operating at full take-off power for more than three and a half hours. This was quite remarkable as they should only operate at full power for about 5 minutes.

We kept on course for England and it wasn't long before the Channel was in sight. I knew that we were still not out of trouble, and telling the crew to prepare for ditching, I then called Air Sea Rescue.

We met two Spitfires at mid-Channel and one of them did a vertical bank directly in front of our plane, which meant, "Follow me." We cleared the Channel, coming in over England at about 500 feet above the terrain. I then thought I saw an airfield; I lowered the landing gear and put the plane into a bank, preparing to land. Just then red flares shot up from the field and I saw tanks beginning to move around on what I had taken to be an airfield!

The Spitfire again signaled to me to follow and we then headed across to Brighton, and while we were flying over the town, the right inboard motor ran out of gas. Now, we had a bit more of a problem and I needed to get down as soon as possible. From my perspective, there appeared to be less habitation to my right, as I put the nose down, the navigator said, "Get over the wires." I said, "Crash landing." Ivan, the navigator came running up from the nose to the radio room and this was then my first realization that he had been hit. Moody was injured by flak while over the target in Germany; his head was swathed in gauze.

As I looked down at the terrain I saw the 120,000-volt power lines and a ditch of some 20 to 30 yards in width, a ploughed hillside ascending directly away from the ditch. The right wing of our plane was heading for the metal tower supporting the power lines and at the same time I realized ... I was so close to the ground that if I attempted to bank, my left wing tip would go into the ground.

I yelled at George Hunt my co-pilot, "Follow me through!” There was no time left for dithering, we both turned right aileron into the tower and both stepped full on the left rudder. The plane did a nice flat crab to the left. The plane hit on the landing gear on this side of the ditch and ballooned across the ditch under the wires and ballooned again up the ploughed hillside. We then just pulled the stick back and plopped into the muck.

Our speed on landing was about 70 mph and the time was somewhere between 12 noon and 1 pm, I can't remember exactly. I know that if our landing gear had not been down, we would have gone nose down first into that ditch.

One of the crew members, Luther Smith, (Smitty) was the aircraft's "Ball turret gunner" and takes up the story:

“February 8th, 1944, the target was Frankfurt, we had a very strong west wind that day and in a very short time we were over the target. Flak knocked out two of our engines, while we were still over the target. I am not sure which ones were hit but I think they were the inboard ones, numbers 2 and 3. At the same time, our navigator, Ivan Moody, from Kansas, was hit. A piece of the flak went through the steel infantry helmet that he was wearing on top of his leather-flying helmet. The flak creased the top of his head. The bombardier, Ellis Miller from Illinois, put a bandage on Moody, who then went back to work on his bloodstained charts.

Flying on only two engines, we could not stay with the rest of the formation, and the wind that had helped us to make a quick trip to the target was now something we could have done without. At one time Moody estimated that our ground speed was only about 60 mph.

We dumped the ball-turret somewhere over France. Until then we were losing altitude so badly that we would not have made it, even to the Channel. The turret weighed 1290 pounds, plus the weight of the ammunition and by getting rid of it, jumped our airspeed up by something like 20 mph and this in turn, slowed our descent. Crossing the Channel, we prepared for ditching into the sea; none of us thought that our fuel supply would last.

Spitfires met us over the Channel and were escorting us to a grass fighter field near to Brighton, Shoreham. On approach with our wheels down the third engine quit. Our pilot, 2nd Lieutenant, Norman DeFrees, saw a patch of ploughed ground and made towards it. The Navigator, Moody, suddenly saw wires and shouted out a warning. In the split seconds that were left to make a decision, DeFrees knew that he couldn't get over the wires with just power from one engine, so he decided to make a crash landing under them. The missed cables were carrying 120,000 volts. It was a very good job of flying, and we were all so proud of the two men in the pilot seats.

With the two emergency type landings which our pilot, Norman had made, there was complete faith in our pilots knowing that they would do everything possible to bring us home safely, after all it was their butts as well as ours, even so, the welfare of the crew was uppermost in their minds. Just a word about the cold at high altitude, it certainly was very cold, everyone wore electrically heated suits with the waist gunners also wearing fleece lined suits.

Incidentally, not only had our pilot proved his immaculate skill but when we were on the approach to the field, with the wheels down, it was at this point that the 3rd engine quit, then, not only did Norman have to set the plane down immediately, going down under the high tension cables, but he also had to side slip to avoid hitting a tower (where the cables were affixed) with the wing tip.”

Norman DeFrees again takes up the story, "We all exited the aircraft and gathered around one of the crew, who had sprained his ankle on jumping to the ground from the radio room hatch, which is quite high when the aircraft is standing on it's landing gear. I was later told that my co-pilot, George Hunt, might have said a prayer. The gathering around the airman who sprained his ankle may have been mistaken for group prayer. I believe that a postman was the first on the scene and then not long after the landing, the local Police from Brighton arrived. We were flown back to our base on a B17, out of Shoreham on the February 10th.”

Luther Smith, (Smitty) now continues his story. “After we were down a while, a gentleman climbed the hill to where we were with a huge picnic basket filled with sandwiches, two large thermos bottles of tea and a bottle of cognac. I will never forget his greeting, "I say yanks, that was a jolly good landing." It was nice of him to have done this for us, as I do believe that the tea, laced with cognac, was the best I ever tasted.

While Winsome Winn II was crossing France, on the way back and before the ball-turret was dropped, another Fortress behind us was having trouble. The aircraft was shot down by two ME-109s. There was no return fire from the Fortress and it was soon "going down." The German C-planes soon disappeared. The pilot asked for some fighter support due to the aircraft having engine trouble and four P47s dropped back from escorting a number of bombers that were ahead of Winsome Winn II. They stayed until they had fuel problems.

The gentleman, who took the picnic basket to the crew, soon after they landed, was almost certainly, Mr. Robert. Swan. He, together with his wife Maud, owned and operated boarding kennels once known as Belmont and now the RSPCA kennels. He actually was the first person to reach the plane.

Mrs. Connie King, the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Swan, also visited the scene of the crash, but this was after the crew had left the scene and returned to their base.

Following the crash-landing members of the RAF regiment based at Shoreham arrived to guard the aircraft. A day or so after, a team of engineers from the 8th Air Force base arrived to carry out the repairs which took several days. When the repair work was completed, the people living in the Church Hill area were temporally evacuated from their homes as a precaution. The Flying Fortress, opening up each engine in turn, was maneuvered by a minimal crew who turned their ship around to face southwards, and with a great roar, took off and was flown back to its base at Grafton Underwood.

On the return to their base, the Winsome Winn II crew was assigned to a brand new B17-G Fortress, still in its bright silver paint, with no camouflaging. The crew in this brand new aircraft took off on the morning of February 22nd, 1944, just 14 days after their crash-landing incident at Patcham, Brighton. Their mission, on this day, was to bomb Aschersleben. Germany. This B17 had no name, but its registration number was S/N 42-97488 SO, 544th Squadron.

Second Lieutenant, Norman DeFrees, the pilot, stated that on February 22nd, 1944, he had the same crew and together with a large number of other planes were given the target of Aschersleben, Germany, taking off at 4 am. He writes:

“England had clouds up to 28,1000 feet, assembly was a mess, our group ran through another group at right angles and by the time it was over, each group had lost one plane and crew. The fighter escort could not get off. The German fighters met us at mid Channel and our plane was deputy lead, high squadron on the right, the formation was a new unworkable concept. We had always flown wings in trail. On this day it was supposed to be wings abreast. Someone overlooked the fact that if the lead flew at an airspeed of 150 mph, the planes on the outside of a turn would have to fly 220 mph to 250 mph to maintain formation. This was the one and only time this was attempted.

After an hour of ME109 fighter attacks during which we would take small jinks evasive action, as the tail gunner would relate the direction of incoming fighter attacks, I went to dump the nose a slight amount and the plane went into a vertical dive of 9,000 feet. The Co-pilot and I finally got the plane under control. We had released our bombs and turned toward England. We planned to make gradual letdown to the deck, but needless to say our faith in the stability of our aircraft was badly shaken.

I asked the tail gunner what had happened to our plane, and he replied that most of the horizontal empennage was shot away. The right inboard motor was shot out, wind milling and causing vibration. He then shouted, "Look over your shoulder" I saw 12 to 15 ME109s coming up beneath us and I gave the order to bail out. We were at 13,000 feet. I got up and looked down into the nose, the navigator and bombardier were out. I went back through the bomb bay, the doors were open, all the crewmen had bailed out. All this time I am walking around with my leg straps to my backpack parachute dangling around my ankles. I jumped out of the bomb bay and did a free fall for approximately 5,000 feet and then pulled the "D" ring. I felt the shock of my weight against my underarms and was, thankfully able to hold on until touchdown. The only ill effects from my stupidity were two huge bruises under each armpit.

A village Constable took me in tow to a crossroad where I found the rest of the crew, except Ivan Moody, the navigator, who had already been taken to hospital with serious wounds. Smitty was lying on the ground, with his right hand and his arm halfway to his elbow severed. He asked for a cigarette, and I lit one for him and stuck it in his mouth. The co-pilot, George Hunt, bombardier Ellis Miller and myself, went to Stalag Luft I at Barth, Germany and were returned to the USA in May of 1945.”

While over Germany, the aircraft was attacked by fighters and shot down. During the attack, Luther Smith, (Smitty) the Ball-Turret Gunner, suffered very serious injuries to his right arm. The order was given to bail-out and at this stage the crew knew that if they survived, then they were almost certainly to become POWs. Due to the injuries to his arm, Smitty was unable to don his parachute. Another member of the crew realizing Smitty's predicament, quickly strapped him into a spare parachute and with little time left, affixed it to the "'static" line and quickly pushed the ball turret gunner out.

All the crew landed safely, were captured and became prisoners-of-war. Meanwhile, the aircraft crashed bursting into flames near Wesel, Germany. Luther Smith was taken to hospital, where his arm was amputated. He spent some time in the hospital and about 8 months after being shot down, through the Red Cross. He was released and returned home to the USA.

On March 11th, 1944, "The Spirit of Winsome Winn II" after being fully repaired was returned to the 384th Bomb Group and was taken over by a new crew. This crew had recently completed their training and had just flown in from the States.

Just a week later, on March 18th, the aircraft piloted by Lieutenant Roger E. Smith, took off on a bombing mission to Oberffenhofen, Germany. The aircraft was shot down, crash-landing in Switzerland, where the crew was interned. The damaged aircraft was eventually dismantled and taken by train to Dabendorf.

Trevor Evans stated that during the afternoon of Tuesday, February 8th, 1944, he was a young lad and was standing in the playground of his school at Patcham. A huge American bomber flew very low over the school and made a forced landing on the Downs behind Court Farm. “I ran from my school, all the way up to the farm. When I got there I was given a lift by a friendly land-army girl on her tractor. We went up to the grounded aircraft. On arrival, I was amazed to see the crew, some sitting and some lying on the grass near to their downed aircraft.”

Bob Truelove says that in February 1944, he was 13 years old. His Father had seen very "active" service with the British Expeditionary Force (BEF) in France. He was wounded before Dunkirk and was one of the last to make it back to England. He was given a small pension and invalided out of the Army; the family was now all back together. The regulations of the war forbade civilians to use cameras or binoculars, film was so short and so the non-usage of cameras was no great deal. His Mother carried a rather large handbag; among other personal items the bag also contained a large pair of brass marine field glasses.

On February 8th, 1944, the whole Family was out together on the racecourse at Brighton. They had found a rather nice sheltered spot, out of the cool breeze, at the top of Wilson Avenue, close to where it crosses the racecourse. The weather was quite pleasant, with weak sunshine.

“From this point we had a good view of the sea and from the activity, over a period, we knew that the invasion of Europe wasn't too far away. We noticed, while looking out to sea, very low down and far away, a smoke haze was forming. Using the field glasses, we could see, as it got a little closer, that it was an aeroplane in trouble. It was flying very low down and had been badly shot up. We identified it as a Flying Fortress and then suddenly we realized that it was flying almost directly towards us. At this point we became very concerned, as we were not sure if it would clear the Race Hill. We watched, awe struck as the massive aircraft kept coming on towards where we were standing up. We watched as it came over the green tiled roofs of these houses by East Brighton Golf Course, seemingly staggering through the air, flying like a wet soggy blanket!!!

As the plane got even nearer to us we could clearly see that smoke was coming out of one engine, the propeller was rotating very slowly; in fact hardly at all. Another propeller had stopped altogether. The aircraft was leaving an oily smoke haze behind it, which was what had first attracted our attention when it was out over the Channel. There were large holes blown through the wings, and the body, through which we could see daylight. One undercarriage leg was hanging down and there were many wires trailing from the aircraft. The noise was deafening it was so low.

We were still not sure that the aircraft would get over the racecourse hill. It passed over, just to our right, in fact between our position and the top of Bear Road. The Fortress was only about 50 or possibly 75 feet up and slowly made its way over towards Hollingbury. We saw it just about stagger over Hollingbury Golf Course and we continued to stand and stare in absolute awed amazement, what a scene we had just witnessed. This was something I would never forget.

As we continued to look northwards, it went, with our silent prayers that it would get down safety, especially after flying back all that way in such terrible condition.”

Vic Johnson, 10 years old, was in Ditchling road near the top on Wednesday. February 8th, 1944 with some friends. It was early afternoon and although it was cold, it was dry and quite sunny. He said that he heard a very loud noise coming from the sky and then saw a very large aircraft, a bomber flying above us coming in from the sea. “I thought it would crash into the top of the houses as it was flying so low; it was barely above the rooftops. There was a stream of what looked like oil or something trailing behind it and it sort of shimmered in the sunshine. The propellers were not turning and it was fairly obvious that something was wrong. The plane wasn't flying straight; one wing was a little lower than the other one. There were holes in the side of it and I just knew it was going to crash. We stood and watched it; lots of people were staring up at it, standing on the pavement and didn't move until the plane was out of sight. It went over towards Hollingbury and Patcham.

I lost sight of it and I expected to hear a big explosion when it crashed but I didn't hear anything for a long time. I went home wondering what could have happened. The next day everyone was talking about the American Flying Fortress that came down in a field at Patcham the previous afternoon. It was just above the playing fields at Braypool, just above the dog kennels. I think that one of the crew had been shot and he was taken to hospital.”

The Evening Argus, dated the February 12th, 1944, had a short story about the skill of a Flying Fortress Pilot which force landed just north of Brighton. It was headed, "Pilots skill saved his crew, adventures of a Flying Fortress”:

“An American Flying Fortress Pilot, 2nd Lieutenant, Norman DeFrees, saved his machine and crew from certain destruction on Tuesday, when he flew beneath high tension cables to bring off an amazing two engine landing near a south of England town.

Evidence of the splendid workmanship put into the Fortress, and the skill and courage of its pilot was outstanding. The Fortress had been mauled by flak; two of its engines were not functioning. Two members of the crew had been hit, one in the wrist and the other in the head, but neither wound were of a serious character.

Over the Channel the plane lost height and the pilot considered a forced landing near the coast but decided to make it to the west in search of another landfall. He continued to lose height, however, and decided to land, selecting a large ploughed field on the verge of the Downs.

Faced with pylons gradually he put the nose down when suddenly there loomed up in front of the Fortress, the high tension electric cables, and it was at this point that the young American pilot brought all his skill to bear, not only saving his crew and his craft but preventing disruption of the electric supply over the entire grid system. With brilliant handling he touched down with amazing alacrity and with one wheel skidding over the ploughed field, he took his Fortress ... underneath the cables!

The only witness of this lucky escape was a post office messenger, who, when the Fortress landed ran across the ploughed field, but had his ardor somewhat damped, when he found the crew praying.”

Luther Smith, (Smitty) later said that there were a few other interesting items about the missions he was involved in. “A number of pieces of flak hit us, the two outboard engines were put out of commission and two small pieces of flak came through the Plexiglas nose, one of them hitting the navigator, Ivan Moody, in the head. Had the piece of flak hit about a 1/2 inch lower it would have killed him. Thinking about the landing at Patcham, we had a phrase that covered our thoughts after a rough mission, " Good old Terra Firma, the more Firmer, the less Terror."

After we landed and some time later, the authorities arrived, I can remember that a guard asked for a couple of our 50 caliber rounds, the tail gunner and myself pulled two of them from a belt of ammo and gave them to him. The base flew a B17 to Shoreham for us; the Squadron flight Surgeon was on board to take a look at Moody and our ground crew Chief came to look at the aircraft engines. Our left waist gunner, Haflam, was the only crewmember that was married and had a son.

On the second mission, the one where we got shot down, my POW camp was Luft 4, situated south of the Baltic, near Poland. I was there several months in convalescent hospitals, after the operation to amputate my hand; two of the hospitals ran by English doctors were Obennassfeld and Meinffigen. In late July or early August 1944, six of us were deemed unfit for further military service. We left Luft 4 and went to Annaburg, Germany, where we boarded a Red Cross train which took all those who were being exchanged to Sweden.

Finally, it is somewhat amazing that the interest in our landing at Patcham all those years ago is still alive. The interest shown by the British people is truly appreciated by those of us from the 8th Air force and their dedication to keeping history and memories alive.”

The stories from the B17 pilot, Norman DeFrees, and Ball Turret gunner, Smitty, Luther Smith, are related from the letters I have personally received during September and October 1998. I feel proud and privileged to have been given the opportunity to be able to record a little more history appertaining to Brighton during the Second World War ------ "DHR" October 1998.