Category Archives: military history

Crotty Coming Home

Corregidor Lifeboat Colt 1911 Pistol In May 1942, the minesweeper USS Quail

Image via National Firearms Museum

On 5 May 1942, the “Old Bird” Lapwing-class minesweeper USS Quail (AM-15) was the last surviving American vessel as the Japanese invaded the Philippines. [We covered her luckier sisters USS Avocet (AVP-4) and USS Heron (AM-10/AVP-2) in separate Warship Wednesdays a few years ago]

When Quail was disabled at Corregidor, site of the last stand of U.S. forces near the entrance to Manila Bay, LCDR J.H. Morrill had the ship scuttled and gave his crew the choice of surrendering to the Japanese or striking out across the open ocean. Seventeen sailors chose to join him on the desperate voyage. With the above pistol recovered from a dead serviceman as their only armament, and virtually no charts or navigational aids, they transversed 2,060 miles of ocean in a 36-foot open motor launch, reaching Australia after 29 days.

LCDR Morrill received the Navy Cross and eventually retired at the rank of Rear Admiral.

As noted by Navsource: “Although the Quail was lost, some of its crew decided that surrendering to the Japanese on Corregidor was not an option. Even though the odds against them were enormous, these incredibly brave men in their small boat managed to avoid Japanese aircraft and warships while, at the same time, battling the sea as well as the weather. But like so many of the men in the old U.S. Asiatic Fleet, they simply refused to give up. It was a remarkable achievement by a group of sailors who were determined to get back home so that they could live to fight another day.”

The gun is currently on display at the National Firearms Museum in Fairfax, VA.

Quail, U.S. Navy photo from the January 1986 edition of All Hands magazine, via Navsource

Quail, U.S. Navy photo from the January 1986 edition of All Hands magazine, via Navsource

One of the Quail‘s “loaner officers” who didn’t make the trip south was Lt. Jimmy Crotty, USCG, who had a more tragic fate.

U.S. Coast Guard Lt. Thomas J.E. Crotty

An explosives expert who graduated from the U.S. Coast Guard Academy in 1934 at the head of his class, he was serving with the Joint In-Shore Patrol Headquarters at Cavite when the war kicked off and spent several months on Quail working the minefields around Manila Bay.

When Quail was sunk, he volunteered to move to Corregidor where he served with the Navy’s headquarters staff and was captured while working one of the last 75mm guns with the 1st Battalion, 4th Marine Regiment. He died two months later under the unspeakably harsh conditions at Cabanatuan Prison Camp #1.

The USCGA Football team dedicated their 2014 season to Crotty and his Bronze Star and Purple Heart are in the custody of the Academy.

Now, the Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency (DPAA) announced that U.S. Coast Guard Lt. Thomas J.E. Crotty, 30, of Buffalo, New York, killed during World War II, was accounted for Sept. 10, 2019.

One of the 2,500 Allied POWs who died at Cabanatuan, Crotty was buried along with fellow prisoners in the Camp Cemetery, in grave number 312.

According to DPAA:

Following the war, American Graves Registration Service (AGRS) personnel exhumed those buried at the Cabanatuan cemetery and examined the remains in an attempt to identify them. Due to the circumstances of the deaths and burials, the extensive commingling, and the limited identification technologies of the time, all of the remains could not be identified. The unidentified remains were interred as “unknowns” in the present-day Manila American Cemetery and Memorial.

In January 2018, the “unknown” remains associated with Common Grave 312 were disinterred and sent to the DPAA laboratory for analysis, including one set, designated X-2858 Manila #2.

To identify Crotty’s remains, scientists from DPAA used dental and anthropological analysis as well as circumstantial and material evidence. Additionally, scientists from the Armed Forces Medical Examiner System used mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA) analysis.

Crotty will be buried Nov. 2, 2019, in Buffalo, New York.

170 years ago, Nevermore

While in Richmond last month, you know I had to make a pilgrimage to the Poe House Museum

On this day in 1849, at Washington Medical College around 5:00 in the morning, a man wearing clothes that were not his own died of “cerebral inflammation,” aged 40.

Born Edgar Poe in Boston in 1809, he published his first book at age 18, Tamerlane and Other Poems, to a poor reception. The disillusioned young poet, riddled with debt, enlisted in the Army as a private on 27 May 1827 for five years under the name “Edgar A. Perry,” claiming to be 22 years old.

He served in Boston at “The Castle” for the princely sum of $5 a month but was soon transferred to the recently-completed Fort Moultrie in Charleston where he served as a skilled artilleryman.

Discharged as a Sgt. Maj.,1st Artillery Regiment, on 15 April 1829– a year early– he proceeded to West Point for admission as a cadet, but was dismissed in 1831 as both he and the Army had mutually had enough of each other, although his third book of poetry was published in large part by subscriptions collected from among the Corps of Cadets.

The next 17 years was an oddity that saw much torment and little success in his time but left the world forever changed by his body of work.

At Fort Moultrie, every October 6th, they fly the 24-star flag, the same that flew while Poe was stationed there in Compay H, 1st Artillery, to remember the young man with the sad eyes who manned the guns and kept a notebook handy.

National Park Service

As a salute, here is A Dream within a Dream, by Edgar Allan Poe, first published just six months before his death, for which Poe received no money. To me, you can hear the lonely posting to Fort Moultrie in its words.

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow—
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it, therefore, the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand—
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep—while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

Retiring the Colours

“The Royal Fusiliers marching through the City of London in 1916” At the time, the Regimental Colour carried honours for “Namur, 1695,” “Martinique, 1809,” “Talavera,” “Busaco,” “Albuhera,” “Badajoz,” “Salamanca,” “Vittoria,” “Pyrenees,” “Orthes,” “Toulouse,” “Peninsula,” “Alma,” “Inkerman,” “Sevastopol,” “Kandahar, 1880,” “Afghanistan, 1879-80,” “Relief of Ladysmith,” “South Africa, 1899-1902.” Plate by Ernest Eggersun, via Regimental Nicknames and Traditions of the British Army 5th ed. London Gale & Polden. 1916

Today’s Royal Regiment of Fusiliers is a fairly new unit, only formed in 1968. However, it was amalgamated from at least four previous regiments (20th Foot/The Lancashire Fusiliers, 5th Foot/Northumberland Fusiliers, 7th Foot/The Royal Fusiliers/City of London Regiment, and 6th Foot/Royal Warwickshire Regiment) which dated back to as far as 1674.

The current colours Royal Regiment Of Fusiliers carry more than 40 honors from past campaigns, presented to the units in the Regiment’s lineage. (All photos: British Army)

Recently, the long-retired colours of the 2nd Battalion (carried in the Second Anglo-Afghan War 1880) and later 10th Battalion of the old Royal Fusiliers, having deteriorated to a point where dignified preservation was apparently no longer an option, were honorably burned and buried in the Royal Fusiliers Garden of Remembrance.

Moving forward, 3 October will be known in the Regiment as “Afghanistan Day” honoring the chain from 1880 to today, when the modern unit has been active in the same region, although with a different mission.

“The vibrant colours of the current Standards and Colours laid on the high altar in the church with the Royal Fusilier Victoria Crosses contrast sharply with the burnt remains of the Colours buried today. In the moving ceremony, enacted for the first time by the Regiment of Fusiliers, there is time to reflect on the bravery and service of the officers and men who have served through the Regiment’s history. The final, formal burial of old Colours which have decayed over the decades is still a rare event in modern-day soldiering.” noted the Army on Thursday.

Warship Wednesday: Oct. 2, 2019, HMs Unlucky Killer No. 13

Here at LSOZI, we are going to take off every Wednesday for a look at the old steam/diesel navies of the 1859-1946 period and will profile a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all of their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places. – Christopher Eger

Warship Wednesday: Oct. 2, 2019, HMs Unlucky Killer No. 13

Click to very much bigup

 

Here we see the Royal Navy’s K-class steam-powered (not a misprint) submarine HMS K22, bottom, compared to a smaller and more typical example of HMs submarine fleet during World War I, the HMS E37. As you can tell, the two boats are very different and, by comparing specs of the 800-ton/2,000shp E27 with the 2630-ton/10,000shp K22, you can see just how different.

A brainchild that sprang from the pipe-dream by Jellicoe and Beatty of creating submarines fast enough to operate with the Grand Fleet, these massive 339-foot submarines were designed on the cusp of World War I and a full 21 were to be built. Whereas other subs around the world were gasoline-electric or diesel-electric, the K-class would be steam-electric with a pair of Yarrow oil-fired boilers (! on a submarine!) for use with turbines on the surface, giving them an impressive 24-knot speed.

K7, showing a good profile of these interesting subs. And yes, those are stacks on her amidships

HMS K7, showing a good profile of these interesting subs. And yes, those are stacks on her amidships

When you keep in mind that the standard British battleship of the time, the brand new Queen Elizabeth-class “fast” battleships had a max speed of 24-knots, you understand the correlation.

The K-class would use their speed to their advantage and, with a heavy armament of eight torpedo tubes and three 3-4-inch deck guns, press their attacks with ease. For all this surface action, they had a proper bridge (with windows!) and even stacks for the boilers.

HMS K2, note the gun deck with her large 4 inchers interspersed between her stacks. Click to big up

HMS K2, note the gun deck with her large 4 inchers interspersed between her stacks. Click to big up

In short, they were really large destroyers that happened to be able to submerge. When using one boiler they could creep along at 10 knots for 12,500 nautical miles– enabling them to cross the Atlantic and back and still have oil left.

When submerged, they could poke around on electric motors. With all this in mind, what could go wrong?

Well, about that…

The K-class soon developed a bad habit of having accidents while underway. This was largely because for such gargantuan ships, they had small and ineffective surface controls, which, when coupled with a very low crush depth and buoyancy issues meant the ships would often hog and be poor to respond under control, along with having issues with dive angles like you can’t believe.

In short, they were all the bad things of a 300-foot long carnival funhouse, afloat.

Further, since the boilers had to be halted to dive (who wants burnt oil exhaust inside a sealed steel tube?) if these submersibles could dive in under five minutes it was due to a well-trained crew. Then, due to all the vents and stacks that had to seal, there were inevitable leaks and failures, which on occasion sent seawater cascading into the vessel once she slipped below the waves.

Of the 21 ordered, only 17 were eventually completed and these ships soon earned a reputation as the Kalamity-class because ships sank at their moorings, suffered uncontrolled descents to the bottom of the sea, ran aground, and disappeared without a trace. This led to improvements such as a large bulbous bow (note the difference in the bow form from early images of these subs to later), though it didn’t really help things all that much.

K4 ran aground on Walney Island in January 1917 and remained stranded there for some time. There are several images in circulation of this curious sight

K4 ran aground on Walney Island on January 1917 and remained stranded there for some time. There are several images in circulation of this curious sight

With all of this, we should double back around to the K22 mentioned above in the very first image. You see, she was completed as HMS K13 at Fairfield Shipbuilders, Glasgow, Scotland.

Launched 11 November 1916, K13 was sailing through Gareloch on 29 January 1917 during her sea trials when Kalimity raised its head.

On board that day were 80 souls– 53 crew, 14 employees of a Govan shipbuilder, five Admiralty officials, a pilot and the captain and engineer of sister submarine K14. While attempting to bring the decks awash, icy Scottish seawater poured into the engine room of the submarine, killing those stokers, enginemen and water tenders working the compartment. A subsequent investigation found that four ventilator tubes for the boilers had not closed properly.

Fifty men were left alive on the stricken ship, which by that time was powerless at the bottom of the loch. The two seniormost present, K13‘s skipper Lieutenant Commander Godfrey Herbert and his K14 counterpart, Commander Francis Goodhart, tasked themselves to make a suicidal break for the surface on a bubble of air released from the otherwise sealed off conning tower to get help– though only Herbert made it alive.

Once topside and picked up by another waiting submarine, Herbert helped pull off a what is noted by many as the first true Submarine Rescue which involved dropping airlines to the submarine while the 48 remaining men trapped inside endured a freezing, dark hell for 57 hours until they were able to be brought to the surface as the buoyant end of the submarine, pumped full of air pressure, broached the surface and a hole was cut to remove the survivors while the ship was held by a hawser.

k13 rescue operation

From the Submarine Museum’s dry record of the event:

The crew of E50 witnessing K13’s rapid dive closed in on the area discovering traces of oil and escaping air breaking the surface. The first rescue vessel arrived around midnight. Divers were sent down to inspect the submarine and just after daybreak on the 30th morse signals were exchanged between the divers and the trapped crew. At 1700 an airline was successfully connected, empty air bottles recharged and ballast tanks blown. With the aid of a hawser slung under her bows K13 was brought to within 8 feet of the surface. By midday of the 31st K13’s bow had been raised ten feet above the water. By 2100 the pressure hull had been breached using oxy-acetylene cutting equipment the survivors being transferred to safety

However, K13 slipped below the surface once more, taking her dead back to the bottom with her. Raised two months later, she was repaired, the bodies of 29 lost in her engine room removed as was the fallen skipper of K14 (while one body other was recovered from the loch, the remaining men were never found), and she was recommissioned as K22.

British submarine HMS K22 (ex HMS K13) under way at speed during trial in the Firth of Forth after repair and refit.

British submarine HMS K22 (ex HMS K13) underway at speed during trial in the Firth of Forth after repair and refit Note the change to her bow. Via Tacta Nautica

Seeing some war service with the 13th Submarine Flotilla (again with that number!) K13/22 was involved in a collision at night with sistership K14 in a chain reaction event that left two other sisters, K6 and K17, sunk. In all 105 of HMs submariners were killed in one night in 1918 aboard K-boats without a single German shot fired.

By this time, the “K” had changed from Kalamity to Killer and volunteers assigned to these boats called themselves the “Suicide Club.”

Alongside captured coastal U-boat S.M.S. UB 28 in 1918, note the huge size difference.

Alongside captured coastal U-boat S.M.S. UB 28 in 1918, note the huge size difference.

Soon after the war, the RN divested themselves of the K-class though they were still relatively new, scrapping most of them in the early 1920s.

K13 as K23 late in her brief second life, 1923

K13 as K23 late in her brief second life, 1923

K13/K22 survived until she was sold for scrap in December 1926 in Sunderland.

A memorial to her 32 war dead is at Faslane Cemetery while one to her six civilians killed among her crew is at Glasgow.

A third, erected in 1961, is in Carlingford, New South Wales, Australia, and was paid for by the widow of Charles Freestone, a leading telegraphist on K13 who survived the accident and emigrated down under.

160126-K13-Memorial2

The Submarines Association Australia (SAA) visits and pays their respect to the marker in Oz every January 29 while Sailors from HM Naval Base Clyde and the RN Veteran Submarine Association pay theirs at the markers in Scotland.

160126-K13-Memorial1

“Although technology has revolutionized submarine safety over the past century, the special bravery, ethos, and comradeship of Submariners and the Submarine Service endures,” said Command Warrant Officer of the UK Submarine Service Stefano Mannucci on the 99th Anniversary service in 2016

Last week, Veterans and serving submariners at Helensburgh unveiled a plinth to mark the sinking of the Submarine K13.

“The plinth was commissioned by the West of Scotland Branch of the Submariners Association and before it was unveiled, the Branch President, retired Commander Bob Seaward, OBE explained how the plinth represents a link connecting the town and its residents to the Naval Base and the submarines which have been sailing past the town for over 100 years,” noted the Royal Navy.

K13/22 is also remembered in maritime art.

hms_k22

As for her skipper on that cold January day a century ago, Capt. Godfrey Herbert, DSO with Bar, having served in the Royal Navy through both World Wars, died on dry land in Rhodesia at the ripe old age of 77.

Specs:

Displacement: 1,980 tons surfaced, 2,566 tons dived
Length: 339 ft. (103 m)
Beam: 26 ft. 6 in (8.08 m)
Draught: 20 ft. 11 in (6.38 m)
Propulsion:
Twin 10,500 shp (7,800 kW) oil-fired Yarrow boilers each powering a Brown-Curtis or Parsons geared steam turbines, Twin 3 blade 7 ft 6 in (2.29 m) screws
Four 1,440 hp (1,070 kW) electric motors.
One 800 hp (600 kW) Vickers diesel generator for charging batteries on the surface.
Speed:
24 knots (44 km/h; 28 mph) surfaced
8 knots (15 km/h; 9.2 mph) submerged
Range:
Surface: 800 nautical miles (1,500 km; 920 mi) at maximum speed
12,500 nmi (23,200 km; 14,400 mi) at 10 kn (19 km/h; 12 mph)
Submerged: 8 nmi (15 km; 9.2 mi) at 8 kn (15 km/h; 9.2 mph)
Complement: 59 (6 officers and 53 ratings)
Armament:
4 × 18-inch (460 mm) torpedo tubes (beam), four 18-inch (450-mm) bow tubes, plus 8 spare torpedoes
2 × BL 4-inch (101.6 mm) Mk XI guns
1 × 3 in (76 mm) gun
Twin 18-inch deck tubes originally fitted but later removed.

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Our Lady of Luján, going home

Argentinian soldiers pose with a statue of Our Lady of Luján during the 1982 Falklands War. (Credit: Military Diocese for Argentina.)

The day after April Fool’s 1982 saw a combined-arms task force of the Argentine military, spearheaded by 85 Buzos Tácticos commandos and some 500 members of the elite 2nd Marine Infantry Battalion (BIM-2), landed in the Falkland Islands in Operation Rosario, a combat seizure of the British colony from a vastly outnumbered force of fewer than 100 Royal Marines, mobilized territorials and armed sailors. Buenos Aries then swiftly reinforced these troops with a division-sized unit of conscripts, in a gamble that Maggie Thatcher would call it a day.

She did not.

By mid-June, the Empire had struck back, so to speak, sending two crack special-operations augmented light infantry brigades (3 Commando and 5 Guards) and a 44-ship armada (plus another 70 RFA ships and vessels taken from trade) to retake the islands back by force.

In the end, the 649 Argentine military personnel, 255 British military personnel, and three Falkland Islanders died during the sharp 74-day undeclared war. An amazing 11,313 Argentine prisoners of war were left in British hands to be repatriated to the Latin American continent. Some 25 Argentine military aircraft were captured by the Brits, with many taken back to serve as war trophies, along with the Argentine Coast Guard patrol boat GC82 Islas Malvinas (kept as HMS Tiger Bay until 1986 when she was sold), and some 11,000 assorted small arms.

However, while the surrendered Argentine units were allowed to keep their flags, and officers even allowed to retain their sidearms, the Argentine military holy relic, Our Lady of Luján– representing both the patroness of Argentina, as well as the patroness for Argentine military chaplains– was sent to England. Today, it is on display at the Catholic Military Cathedral of St. Michael and St. George in Aldershot.

In a deal worked out by Bishop of the (UK) Forces Paul Mason and his Argentinian counterpart, Bishop Santiago Olivera, the statute will be returned to Argentina in November while a duplicate replica will remain behind.

The two statues will be exchanged on Oct. 30 during a conference for military bishops taking place in Rome, after being blessed by Pope Francis.

An unlikely lawn ornament

While in Columbia, South Carolina last week, filming an episode of Select Fire at FN (much more on that, later) I visited the South Carolina State House

While it looks nice, it was 95 degrees, with 95 gnats to match!

In the woods and shade just off to the side of the building, while walking down Gervais Street to Trinity Cathedral– which is breathtaking– I spied this small 6-pounder (57mm) gun on a naval mount almost hidden in the brush.

Why, hello there…

On closer look, it was indeed historic, one of the battery of six such anti-torpedo-boat-guns carried by the ill-fated armored cruiser USS Maine (ACR-1). The vessel sank in Havana Harbor in February 1898, an event that led to the outbreak of the Spanish–American War that April.

The gun was salvaged after the conflict and installed in 1931 at its current location.

While South Carolina raised over 1,000 volunteers in two regiments for the short conflict that in the end saw little of it, the city of Columbia acquired the gun in 1910 as a monument to the effort and installed it in Irwin Park, near the Gervais Street Bridge, in 1913. The city moved the gun to its current location and unveiled it on 22 October 1931.

While a Driggs-Schroeder type 57mm/40cal, the tube markings have worn away over time.

The brass mount is an 1894 Mark III. Notably, the largest battery of remaining Driggs 6-pdrs is preserved on SpanAm War veteran USS Olympia (C-6).

While relics from USS Maine are scattered from Havanna to New England and the West Coast, including several of her guns, from what I can tell, this is her only 6-pdr on display.

A Sword of the Campbell Sharpshooters

Milestone Auctions in Ohio next weekend has an 850 lot collection of vintage militaria up for grabs next weekend including a 5th SGF(A) Vietnam-era Randall fighting knife, a named set of collectibles (including a Japanese canteen) from a member of the WWII 76th Seabee Batallion, and an album from the Civil War-era 8th Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry Regiment.

Speaking of the Civil War, they also have a period sword identified to Confederate Capt. Caleb P. Bowen of Company C (Campbell Sharpshooters), 30th Georgia Infantry.

Bowen came from a military family and was the son of Major Thomas J. Bowen, a War of 1812 hero. The younger Bowen’s name is etched on the sword along with two variations of the Confederate flag. The 30th fought at Chickamauga, Franklin, and Nashville, among other battles in the West, notably being wiped out at the latter.

Bowen was wounded at Franklin but still with the regiment at Nashville, where he was captured, ending his war in a POW camp. Returning home to Campbell County after the war, he became a noted local and state lawmaker, before passing away in 1907.

One of the best privately-owned examples of a Confederate presentation sword, it is expected to sell for $10,000-$15,000.

 

Want to buy a flattop?

A Vought F-8 Crusader lines up for landing on the French aircraft carrier Foch (R99). Date and location unknown

Built in the 1960s as the second of the Clemenceau-class light carriers by the French, the Foch remained in nominal NATO service until 2000, even appearing in a cameo in the opening of the film Crimson Tide, before moving to Latin America. She is now for sale, after lackluster service with Brazil.

As noted by Joe Travenik over at The Drive, the Brazilians have placed their Cold War-era French-built light carrier, the ex-São Paulo, up for sale with bids starting at $1.275 million:

Originally commissioned in the French Navy as the Foch in 1963, she was the second of two Clemenceau class aircraft carriers and remained in service in France until 2000. Brazil purchased the ship that same year for the bargain price of $12 million. At the time of São Paulo‘s retirement, there were only two other countries in the world, the United States and France, still operating catapult-assisted takeoff and barrier assisted recovery (CATOBAR) configured aircraft carriers.

More here

World War II Glider Pilots to Reunite in Fayetteville, North Carolina

An easy and cost-effective way to move light infantry and their equipment, to include some that were too heavy for the parachutes of the day, glider-borne air landing units were in vogue during WWII. The Germans kicked off their combat use when eight gliders full of specially-trained sappers landed atop the supposedly impregnable Belgian fortress at Eben Emael in May 1940 and captured it by lunch.

The U.S. Army’s Glider Forces were established in 1942 and, after a lot of trial and error, a full two- and later three-battalion Glider Infantry Regiment (GIR) or two was assigned to each American airborne division.

In all, 13 GIRs were formed with many seeing heavy combat. These included the 187th and 188th GIR (11th Abn Div), 325th (82nd Abn), 193rd and 194th (17th Abn), 327th and 401st (101st Abn).

Some 13,900 Waco CG-4, the standard U.S. glider, were produced during the war and were smaller than the British Horsa and Hamilcar gliders. Capable of carrying 13 troops and their equipment, they could also tote a jeep or 75mm pack howitzer in the nose. Today, only about 25 CG-4s still exist.

After seeing action in Europe and the Pacific, gliders were eliminated from the Army in 1953, as the military switched to helicopters for “air assault”

However, veterans of those Glidermen still survive.

(Presser from the FACVB):

Men who flew on silent wings to deliver troops, weapons, and supplies in key points on the World War II front are coming to the Fayetteville, North Carolina area in October to reunite and remember those harrowing moments in the battle against tyranny across the globe.

The 49th Annual National World War II Glider Pilot Reunion (WW2GPC) is coming to Fayetteville October 10 – 12th. The reunion will join Glider pilots and several veterans from the various Troop Carrier groups including power pilots, other C-47 crew members, mechanics, as well as family members and historians. Approximately 125 veterans, members, researchers and flight officers from the Air Force Academy will be attending. The event will take place at the Doubletree by Hilton in Fayetteville.

Events throughout the conference include tours of Fort Bragg and dinner and presentations on post two evenings. The conference concludes with a dinner banquet at the hotel Saturday evening, with Lt. Col. Stewart Lindsay, Commander of the 2nd Battalion, 325th Airborne Infantry Regiment, as guest speaker.

Part of the evening’s presentations will include Katharine Manning, daughter of Glider Pilot John George Manning, accepting her father’s long overdue Bronze Star Medal (BSM.) BSM recipients were to have been awarded the medal in 1945 as requested by their commander Major Charles Gordon, of the 435th Troop Carrier Group.

Approximately 6,000 individuals were trained as glider pilots. The numbers of surviving glider pilots and troop carriers are declining as the age range is over 90 years old. The glider pilots are proud of their silver wings with the large letter “G” which they say, really stands for GUTS. It took guts to fly the glider beyond enemy lines on a one-way mission.

Veterans will be available to speak with the media and share stories from World War II. Please contact Mary Roemer, Reunion Chair 336-655-6607 about setting up media opportunities on Friday and Saturday. Contact Ms. Roemer or navigate to https://www.ww2gp.org/reunion.php for more information.

Frommer, FEG and Femaru

Budapest’s Fegyver- és Gépgyártó Részvénytársaság (FEG) is now one of the biggest water heater makers and HVAC distributors in Europe. However, from the 1880s until 2004, they cranked out a myriad of small arms for the Austro-Hungarian, and later Hungarian proper, military and police. This included the AKM/D-63/65 Kalash, PA-63 Makarov, the 9mm version of the TT33 for Egypt known and loved by collectors as the “Tokagypt,” Pál Király’s Danuvia subguns, and others.

One of my favorites was the Femaru M37, Rudolf Frommer’s swan song. Over 300,000 of these classic semi-autos were produced between 1937 and 1945, seeing extensive service during World War II.

Hungarian Femaru pistols are one of the few affordable WWII-era martial handguns left floating around these days. (Photo: Richard Taylor/Guns.com)

More on the Frommer-FEG-Femaru history in my column over at Guns.com

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