Larry Johnston

Larry Johnston, 2nd Row, 2nd from the Right. Poses with the crew of the B-17F "Jolly Roger."

Click to expand, zoom to read. These are old and fuzzy. Declassified in 1982.

Larry Johnston was my uncle, my father's half brother. In WWII, he flew in the European Theater in a B-17F with the 384th Bomber Group (Heavy), 546th Bomber Squadron. He was a bombardier and the name of his bomber was "Jolly Roger." I met him several times, but he passed away a few years ago. His widow, Janet Johnston now lives in Maryland. She also contributed greatly to the war effort. She was a "Rosie the Riveter" and helped manufactured B-24s.

During the early part of the war, American Daylight bombing was a risky proposition. Uncle Larry told me that crew members often left their M1911A1 pistol in their footlockers during missions. During his last mission, he had six pistols in his footlocker; one was his and the others were from crewmembers who had already been shot down. On 23 September 1943, Uncle Larry's squadron flew a mission to bomb a harbor at Nantes France to bomb a U-Boat tender ship that would go out to sea and re-supply the U-Boats. He said that the enemy fighter would often come straight at the bomber's nose, one fighter after the other. This was manageable for the bomber crew because they could train their guns on each plane as it came by. This day, Uncle Larry looked up and saw six FW190s in two wings of three. They were wingtip to wingtip and all guns firing. A 20 MM shell came through the nose of the bomber and struck the bombsite. Uncle Larry was saved by his flak vest, but he was severely wounded with 80+ small holes in his body and both hands mangled. Apparently, more than the bombsite was struck because the pilot, Bill Higdon, gave the order to bale out. 3 of the engines were on fire. All 10 crew members made it out of the plane before it exploded in mid-air.

When he landed, he was in occupied France in a town called Plougue and the plane debris fell outside of Plemet; both of these towns are in the French province of Brittany. Today, one of the engines from Uncle Larry's B-17 is in a local museum. A Frenchman tried to help him but Uncle Larry told him to leave him for the Germans because he knew he needed professional medical attention or else he would die of infection. In fact, of the crew of 10, 7 were captured and the other 3 were able to evade the enemy. According to the official Gendarmerie (police) records, of the 7 POWs, one was seriously wounded. This was obviously Uncle Larry. The Germans soon came and found Larry and took him to a military hospital at Loudeac where he was treated. Because of this, Uncle Larry never had anything bad to say about the Germans. When he was recovered, he was sent to Stalag Luft 1 in Barth, Germany. Barth is on the coast of the Baltic NW of Berlin in what used to be East Germany. I visited Stalag Luft 1 and there isn't much left.

The camp was on a peninsula and between the camp and the mainland was a Luftwaffe Anti-Aircraft Gunnery school. The water table was high and the water in the Baltic was freezing. The effect of these conditions meant that the guards were not too concerned about escape attempts. In fact, they let the soldiers wear themselves out by digging tunnels. Since the water table was so high, the tunnels were close to the surface where the guard dogs could easily hear the digging. They would cock their ears and then the guards could play the "kick in the tunnel" game. The guards would also let the POWs walk along the water and dig for mussels in the clay to supplement their diet. Uncle Larry found an ancient obsidian crescent hand knife one day and used it to open the shell fish. He kept it as a souvenir after the war. (I have since seen such a knife in a museum in Ireland. I was told it was an ancient Viking knife know as a Lunate Crescent.) Soon, Allied bombing could be heard in the distance and the airmen would often slide out of the windows of the barracks to watch and cheer. Once bombing became a regular event, the Germans put out the order that everyone was to stay in the building. One day, an airman forgot himself and jumped out of the window when the air raid siren sounded. A young guard shot him dead. That was the only "war crime" that Uncle Larry witnessed.

One morning, the airmen awoke to find the camp abandoned. The guards had left in the night. The Russian were near. Many of the enlisted wanted to run wild across the country side, but the officers seized control and ordered them to stay put and stay out of the way of the dangerous Russian Army. Small, foraging parties were formed and the airmen went to find what they could to eat. Uncle Larry was on one of the foraging parties and they went to inspect the Anti-Aircraft Gunnery School. There, he found a pair of Luftwaffe flight boots that fit him and he also brought back a small Luftwaffe hat eagle. Years later, he gave me the eagle as a present. See the picture below. Anyway, the camp was evacuated by B-17s landing at the nearby airport and Uncle Larry finally made it back to England. When he went back to his squadron to visit, there was not one single person that he knew. After the war, he went back to school and got his degree in Chemistry. Uncle Larry was a very quiet and unassuming man. He was extremely smart and thought things through. I am blessed to have known him and to be able to tell his story.

My thanks to Jean Paul Favrais who helped me fill in the pieces of the puzzle. He is an avid French WWII aviation buff and researced the downing of Uncle Larry's plane. He spotted my name on a posting on the 384th Bomber Group web site and has given me much valuable information. Furthermore, my father, Joe Johnston, bought a book about the Stalag Camps of WWII. It was there that I realized that Uncle Larry's detailed description matched only one place and that was Stalag Luft 1. I plan on visiting these places before I leave Europe.

Luftwaffe Eagle that Uncle Larry scavenged the day he got out of his Stalag. He gave it to me when I was a teenager. I still have it.