James Bart Walden

Photo courtesy Dennis Walden
(public ancestry.com)

2nd Lt. James B. Walden, Navigator, ASN: O-761342

Photo and caption courtesy Dennis Walden (son of James Walden)

Photo taken in England

Back Row, Left to Right Sgt. J. J. Fann, Engineer and Top Turret Gunner Both hands were frozen when he took off his gloves and tried to open the jammed escape hatch to bail out. The German doctors in the POW hospital managed to save his hands and he didn't lose a single finger. Sgt. Ed Rosener, Waist Gunner and later made a Bombardier He was hit in the knee cap and never flew again. The target was Stuttgart. 2nd Lt. James B. Walden, Bombardier then Navigator Bombardier for several missions and then Navigator for the rest of his 29 missions. 1st Lt. Robert H. Brown, Pilot Wounded by Flak in October and did not fly for a couple of weeks. He was killed on the mission to Stuttgart. It is believed he stayed with the ship (allowing his fellow crew members to bail-out) and it blew up as it had been on fire. Sgt. Raymond Ohm, Radio Operator Born in USA but grandmother still lived in Leipzig. Front Row, Left to Right Sgt. Ernie Hovey, Waist Gunner Had a piece of flak in his leg in September, but he was soon back flying. Sgt. Jack Basel, Ball Turret Gunner Had been injured around December 6th during some bad turbulence and he was thrown against the side of the ship and received a bad cut over his eye, so he was not flying on Dec. 9th. 2nd Lt. William Giglio, Co-Pilot Was on his 35th mission when shot down. He had flak his his knee and shatter his thigh bone. German doctors tried to save his leg for several days, but finally had to amputate it. He remained in POW hospitals until liberated. Sgt. Mike Ferrar, Tail Gunner Was killed when hit by flak over Merseburg September 13, 1944. (See MACR Report 11342)

Photo and caption courtesy Dennis Walden (son of James Walden) via ancestry.com:

Archive photo of the B-17 that my dad was flying when it was shot down on December 9, 1944 on a mission to Stuttgart. The crew bailed out near Wolfach in the Black Forest because the plane was on fire, and the plane finally crashed about 40 miles west of there in France. The names on the plane don't match his crew because the photo was taken before they flew it. The aircraft number visible on the photo is the same as that on the Missing Air Crew Report (MACR) that was filed when their plane went down.

Additionally:

Dave Osborne, Master Fort Log:
B-17G-85-BO S/N 43-38362 Del Cheyenne 25/7/44; Kearney 3/8/44; Dow Fd 10/8/44; Ass 369BS/306BG [WW-K] Thurleigh 22/8/44; MIA Stuttgart 9/12/44 w/Bob Brown (KIA); cp-Bill Giglio, n-Jim Walden, b-Jim Moore, ettg-Jerold Fann, ro-Ray Ohm, btg-Sam Abdelnour, wg-Ernie Hovey, tg-Joe Bollard (8POW); flak, cr Wolfach, Ger; MACR 11342. SLEEPY TIME GAL.

29 page Missing Air Crew Report 11342 starts here on fold3 for those with access:
https://www.fold3.com/image/30326975

43-38362 Del Cheyenne 25/7/44; Kearney 3/8/44; Dow Fd 10/8/44; Ass369BS/306BG [WW-K] Thurleigh 22/8/44; MIA Stuttgart 9/12/44 w/Bob Brown (KIA); cp-Bill Giglio, n-Jim Walden, b-Jim Moore, ettg-Jerold Fann, ro-Ray Ohm, btg-Sam Abdelnour, wg-Ernie Hovey, tg-Joe Bollard (8POW); flak, cr Wolfach, Ger; MACR 11342. SLEEPY TIME GAL.
Source Dave Osborne

29 page MACR 11342 starts here on fold3 https://www.fold3.com/image/30326975

Account by 2nd Lt. James B. Walden, Navigator:
The Story Of A B-17 Crew Shot Down Over Stuttgart, Germany

On our last trip somewhere between Stuttgart and the Rhine River we caught fire and because the flames were blowing back off the wing we had to jump. The engineer helped the copilot to the escape hatch in the floor of the nose, but he found that it was jammed shut by flak. He took off his gloves and tried his best to open the hatch. Since it was 60 degrees below zero he froze both hands. I got there and saw the problem and pointed to the rear then he and the bombardier helped the co-pilot to jump out of the bomb bay which was jammed open, thank goodness. I went up to check on the pilot and he was flying with both hands (no auto pilot) and did not show any wounds. He always said he would not jump and didn't.

I did a free fall to get down to oxygen and I guess I pulled the cord at about 3000 to 4000 feet. It was snowing and I could not see the ground until I got to about 500 feet. I could not see any houses, nothing but snow and trees. I thought I had it made. I was a few miles from the Rhine River and the Americans were on the other side, I rolled up my chute and was going to hide it in the snow when I saw the home guard with a huge rifle watching me from about 100 feet away. We walked down the mountain for 15 to 20 minutes to an old farm house, no paint and a wooden plow. Quickly a crowd gathered, men, women and children all talking to each other, German of course, and I had no idea what it was all about.

A young girl came up to me and spoke English. She asked if I was an American. It sure was good to hear English and I asked her if I could have some water and a towel to wash my neck. She turned to a woman (her mother) and spoke German. Then she told me to follow her into the house. I went in (not stopped by the guard) and she filled a basin with water and laid a towel beside it . She said I would have to do it for myself. I did because I quickly understood that they could not help a prisoner. She then gave me a strip of cloth that I wrapped around my neck and tied the ends. I then got back outside as fast as I could.

In a few minutes a couple of Gestapo, I think, came in a VW, searched me and took everything I had. I gave my parachute to the lady beside the girl as I went inside the house. We then drove for what seemed like 30 minutes to a town where I was put in a jail. Later my bombardier was brought in. That night about midnight a civilian came in with a suit and tie on, speaking perfect English and asked, " How are you boys doing?" To me this was an American phrase not German. He asked if we were hungry. We said yes and that were cold too. There was a ceramic stove in the jail, but no matches or wood. He said that he would see what he could do. We had no cover, only a wooden shelf just wide enough to lie on and no chairs. About an hour later a guard came in with an aluminum container. We had veal cutlets, potatoes, kraut, black bread and coffee, a full meal. He also brought wood and started a fire. We told each other that we had better eat as it might be our last meal because tomorrow we might be shot. The next morning we were taken to the office of a bigwig. He was smoking my cigarettes and thoroughly enjoying himself. He asked one question, what a CO cylinder in my life jacket was. We were then sent to Wetzler with two guards.

The Germans were moving out of the building in a hurry as the Americans were just across the river.
We had to walk for 3 weeks and finally ended up in a prison camp, Stalag Luft 1. We hoped that our pilot would show up there but he never did and we heard nothing about him or the plane.
The first of last year I got an e-mail that started off-- I was 4 years old when you were a prisoner at Stalag1 and I lived in Barth where the camp was located. It was from Helga Radau. I told her my story about our pilot and she said to contact Roland Geiger who gave her my e-mail address. I wrote him that my ship went down at Wolfach, but no crash site was ever found. He then got in touch with another German, Ottmar Erber in the Black Forrest. Mr Erber sent Roland 2 pages of a book about the Black Forrest that described 2 eyewitnesses telling what happened to the pilot. I am enclosing a copy of what Erber sent to Geiger. He sent it in German and Geiger translated it. Brown's name was in English and his serial number matched. I was able to follow the story through to his burial in Arlington Cemetery in Virginia. I have the grave number there.

Later Mr. Erber found the young girl that spoke to me in English when I landed in Germany. I have a letter from her and will enclose a copy. I wondered about her speaking English. I was shot down and the war was over for me. I didn't know what was coming next. It certainly was not a little German girl speaking English. The neighborhood watch took my parachute away from her mother. I didn't see hate in any of the people that surrounded me that day. I saw hate in the eyes of a mob that gathered behind us as we walked through a town that was still smoking. The people were screaming and had hanging us on their minds. We understood some of the things that they called us, like SOB and a few others. One guard told another guard for us to start running and he raised his rifle and pointed it at the mob. We ran until we were out of sight and I have no idea what he said to the mob of about 25 people. He caught up with us a little later without them.


The finding of the little girl, now 71, as per her letter would make her about 14 when all this happened. It was good to be able to say thank you to a total stranger who stuck her neck out to help me when I needed it most.

I made 29 missions. My co-pilot was on his 35th and last. He lost a leg and spent the rest of the war in the hospital. The engineer had both hands frozen and was also put in the hospital where German doctors saved his fingers after 6 months on treatment.
Source http://www.merkki.com/waldenjames.htm

2nd Lt. James B. Walden, ASN: O-761342. Shot down by flak on mission over Stuttgart bailed out and was captured near Wolfach, Germany about 60 miles southwest of Stuttgart on 9 Dec 1944 . As a POW he was held at Stalag Luft I, Barth Germany. Liberated 1 May 1945 by advancing Soviet troops.

Photo courtesy Dennis Walden (son of James Walden)