"In Italy..." Part 3

"There were several B24 parts that could not be ordered from the supply house.  One that I remember was an arm about 4 inches long that operated a light which indicated landing gear position.  I bet I made at least several hundred of these.  Each plane only had three, but I think all of the mechanics carried them in their pockets. 

Another often made part was a short cable with turnbuckles that the crew chiefs wanted.  They could use these to splice a cable in midair (after being shot up), so the plane could make it home.

Many ideas were thought of and developed that would help get the job done.  One of the most important was an electric bomb hoist used to load bombs, rather than having to crank them by hand. 

After we were there about a year, one of the officers down at the bomb group was walking guard and came upon an Italian in the process of stealing clothes.  He yelled, "Halt", twice and then shot over the Italian's head--or said he tried to shoot over his head--but he hit him square in the back of the head.  After this happened, there came an order down that anyone who shot a native Italian had to leave and be shipped to another outfit.  That was all right with us.  Most of us had enough time in to get rotated home anyway.

One night while walking guard, I noticed the guard before me had been walking around the camp to the left.  I reversed it and went around to the right.  Sure enough, here came about four Italians out of the supply tent.  I yelled, "Halt", then I yelled again and cocked the gun.  Next I shot as near correct as possible--then again and again--each time the one I had aimed at would fall, then at the next shot, the one that fell would get up again.  This continued until all shells were gone.  Then came all our officers to see what I was doing.  One officer still had his pistol wrapped up.  He couldn't have shot it, if his life depended on it.  I asked him to explain its usefulness, which he couldn't. 

It was soon breakfast time.  They relieved me from guard duty so I could eat.  By the time I got to the mess hall, the story had already beat me there.  Everybody was warned not to mess with those guys from the Blue Ridge Mountains!  I did shoot the bags of clothes out of their hands without hitting any of them, but I didn't get to go home because of it.  Anyway the whole outfit knew that I would shoot if needed.  They did not have to announce it.  My commanding officer came around and said, "he would not change a thing.  We put the fear in the Italians without killing anyone, and the C.O. does not have to write a report."

To be continued...