On June 6, the EAA Aviation Museum opened a new exhibit to honor the 75th anniversary of D-Day. “D-Day Plus 75 Years” shares the journeys of several different people who served in the armed forces there. This is done through personal effects and stories from those who were there and witnessed history firsthand. Two cases in the exhibit describe the bomber crews who flew in to support the landings.
Personal items including a diary surrounded by dog tags and photos help tell the story of Samuel VanderJagt. Sam was a radio operator and gunner in a Martin B-26 Marauder. His B-26 was named Hot Rock and was assigned to the 397th Bomb Group, 9th Air Force. Sam’s story would have been lost to history if it wasn’t for him keeping a diary, and his family sharing it with us. Now we are able to tell the story through his eyes.
On the evening of June 5, Sam described a restlessness around the base of the 397th Bomb Group: “The day before had been a trying one as our mission was not successful as weather did not allow us to find our target. That evening as we were just hoping to get some sleep, we were being kept awake by German buzz bombs. We had gone out for days trying to hunt down the homes of these robot weapons. In our hut the blinds were being drawn as everyone was preparing to call it a night. Envelopes, papers, and magazines cluttered the hut floor, giving evidence that the day’s mail had been read and re-read. Here and there would be a lone figure reading his letters by flashlight as to not bother anyone else. Occasional opening and closing of the front doors as a lone straggler came in a bit late and crashed to his bunk. For whatever reason everyone could feel something big was coming. Would it be a day where we had two missions? Or maybe it was the much rumored invasion of France finally.”
On the morning of June 6, 1944, Sam was about to fly his 22nd mission. “It felt as if we had just climbed in to our bunks when the door was thrown open with a violent force,” Sam wrote.
“‘Come on Sam,’ Barney exclaimed as he tried to roll me out of my bunk. It is almost 2:00. Then from the front of the room came the voice of our C.Q. ‘It looks as if this is it. I just got word from Col. McLeod that something big is on. Breakfast in ten minutes, trucks will be ready in twenty.’” After getting their gear together Sam and his crew reported to breakfast. “Chow could hardly be called chow,” he wrote. “The cooks were caught by surprise as well. They had black coffee which could be used as antiseptic.”
As they approached briefing they could tell something big was up as there was a staff car parked outside with three stars on it. “Well this is not a joke,” Sam wrote. “No general would come out here at this hour for a dry run.” As they all settled in for the briefing, the general started right in with his speech. “Men, if you still have any doubts as to why you are here at this hour, let me expel them for you. Today is the day. As we speak your planes are hastily being painted with black and white stripes. Any planes without these stripes that you see, feel free to shoot at. Troops at the moment are approaching the French coast. Your job will be to soften those defenses to give them a fighting chance. Your last bombs must be dropped by 0600.”
The crews then made their way out to jeeps and trucks for a ride out to the plane. “When we arrived at the plane we discovered that the B-26s had been painted in the middle of the night with black and white stripes,” Sam wrote. “Out at the planes we were issued steel helmets. We could hear in the darkness the roar of engines of other groups forming up over us. We climbed in to Hot Rock, our B-26. We actually had no idea what the name on the nose meant. The crew chief said that it meant that it was a fighting lady. Hopes were high and tensions were higher as plane after plane took off for this attack on Hitler’s fortress. We all knew this was a mission which history would remember.”
That morning the wheels of Hot Rock left the runway at Rivenhall, England, as the fourth airplane in the group heading to France. “June 6, 1944. Here we are D-Day, at last,” Sam wrote. “Our ship was the 4th to take off. We are spearheading the invasion. Our job in the B-26s is to soften up the coastal positions for the landings.”
As Sam and his crew made their way to Cherbourg, France, he took a few photos out of his window. Then as they neared France he could see a sight he was not prepared for: the Allied invasion force.
“It is one of the most amazing spectacles I could ever hope to witness or participate in,” Sam wrote. “Peering out of my window I have a once in a lifetime panorama revealing this great armada. I can see thousands of surface ships. Corvettes, battleships, cruisers, and destroyers really stood out. They must span for miles. There are some 4,000 ships down there. Just above them are thousands of aircraft. Some are support or escort aircraft. Some are flying in supplies and others are making fast inland raids on the French coast. There is gunfire all around the beach and we can see ships sinking even from up here. The action is almost too chaotic to enable one to focus his attention upon just one isolated situation.”
As they flew closer to the target they picked up anti-aircraft fire, or flak. “I could hear our bombardier saying, ‘Steady, steady, and then bombs away!’” Sam wrote. “The navigator ordered a turn to 110 degrees for home, and we were all too happy to hear that. Later that day back at our base safe, over coffee and donuts and preparing for sleep we realized the miracle we had witnessed.”
Our thanks to Sam’s family — Sandra Westenburg, Ron VanderJagt, Jane “Laurie” Scholten, Janna Stout, and Sam VanderJagt Jr. — for sharing this remarkable piece of history.