Happy Birthday Justin !

  

H  O  T      P  O  T  A  T  O

love

   dad 

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good morning justin

  

 S  E  A  P  L  A  N  E

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   dad

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Oran

  

The Allies needed to beat Hitler to Tunis and starve

Rommel's Afrika Korps into submission.  The docks of

Oran's port would provide the supplies needed to

defeat the Germans in Tunisia.  Time was critical.

Hitler had already begun sending troops to Tunis

to counter this American thrust.

Commodore Peters was given two old American

coast guard cutters to secure Oran's docks for

the Allies.  His plan was to make a mad dash

across the length of the harbor to wrest control

of the docks from the French.  Surprise was his

only hope for success if the French turned out 

to be hostile.

A battery of large cannon defended the harbor from a cliff

nearby.  Along side this fortress was stationed a brilliant

searchlight used to illuminate their target.  It would be used

with devastating success.

There was never any hope of surprise.  

The attack from the sea on the harbor was to

come two hours after Americans began landing on the

shores bracketing Oran.  No one would be sleeping on

guard duty with all this commotion going on about them.

Hundreds of American GIs were crammed in holds

under the decks of these unarmored relics.

They prayed this wouldn't be the suicide mission

of their fears.  Turns out their fears were right.

Two-thirds of the 700 men involved in the mission

were killed or wounded.  The rest were fished from

the water and taken prisoner.  Peters ordered the 

operation to proceed despite a message from HQ

stating Oran was about to fall and his mission 

may not be necessary.  

Peters led his charge from the bridge of the Walney.

His vessel reached Pier 1, its objective, as a ghost

ship.  After machine gun fire raked its decks and

cannon shells exploded among those stuffed 

below, there just didn't appear to be any room left

for those hoping to live.  The same was true for

those souls that sank with the second lifeless cutter.  

The French had a score to settle with the Brits.

Killing Americans was unfortunate but it was

a matter of French honor.

Tomorrow, though, would be different.

*  *  *  *  * 

©  Tom Taylor

OVER   EASY 

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Happy Birthday Frances

   

H A P P Y     B I R T H D A Y !

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     Grandma and Grandpa 

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good morning jacob

  

 J  I  G  S  A  W

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   dad

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Land's End

  

 Early evening, 7 November.  D-Day minus 1.

More than 500 paratroopers from the 509th

took off from Land's End, England, headed to their 

objectives - Algerian airfields, a ten hour flight away.

Word was they could safely land because the French

had promised a friendly reception.  Still, no one was

foolish enough to actually count on any outcome 

being this favorable.

Paratroopers were trained to jump, then fight.

The 509th would do both, as needed.

Marshal Petain made a pact with the devil.

He would support Hitler in return for the Fuhrer's

promise not to invade southern France.

Petain killed the Kumbaya feeling that was

negotiated by Allied and Vichy leaders in North Africa.

His decision was clear.  Open fire on every American

that chose to invade them.

 Ike was told of this dangerous turn of events

 and passed it along to the troops.  Any hostile 

action taken against the Allies would be met

with overwhelming lethal force.

The message was sent in code to the 

C-47 Skytrain currently lumbering over Spain.

"Play Ball ... "  //  "Play Ball ... "  //  "Play Ball ... "

No response.  No confirmation of message received.

The phrase Play Ball was repeated time and again.

The operator heard only the hiss of dead air in return.

They were broadcasting on the wrong frequency.

Someone got the number mixed up.  

The warning was never heard.

It was a screw-up worthy of FUBAR distinction.

Naturally, Gibraltar was wondering:

What happened to the 509?

Maybe they were shot down over Fascist Spain.

That sounds horribly drastic but it was a concern.

Actually, all 39 C-47s were fine, except for

the fact they were lost.  They couldn't even

find each other.  Blame it on inexperience.

Try navigating at night in heavy rain.

So as morning sun rose over the Mediterranean,

C-47 pilots everywhere were wondering if the fast

approaching coastline was that of Morocco or

Algeria or possibly southern France.

 

It's been a long flight and now the aircraft were

 running out of fuel.  Their search for safe landing

met with varied success.  One plane landed amid

angry Moroccan tribesmen.  Some landed among

friends while others were taken prisoner as they

stepped off the plane into Vichy troops, greeting

them with guns.  A number of casualties occurred

when French fighters strafed a group of three C-47s.

Most flights had lonely landings in some destitute

place that was far from where they needed to be.

 

 The American airborne operation experienced

the setbacks one might expect from an ambitious,

first time effort.  They improvised.  They managed.

They adapted and made the best of it.

The good news was the French were the enemy.

Your friends.  They weren't out for your blood.

Rommel wouldn't be so conflicted about taking 

your life.  He had a lesson plan in store for the

Americans.  It was one already familiar to both

the French and English.

*  *  *  *  * 

©  Tom Taylor

OVER   EASY 

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good morning jack

  

 M A K E     M I N E     R O M A N C E

love

   dad

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