At Moses Lake they trained as a crew to fly cross country missions where each member could exercise their skills and the crew could begin to function as a unit, as well as get to know one another and establish the trust that would later be necessary. It was here that they were first introduced to their B-17′s. After about 3-months, they moved to Kearney, NE for advanced training which was more of the same and I think there was a second base around Sioux City where they spent some time training. It was here that they made out their wills.

From NE, some flew their planes to Detroit, Chicago, Presque Isle, Newfoundland, and across the North Atlantic to the northern tip of Scotland where they left their planes and boarded a train that would deliver them to a ferry for Northern Ireland and theater training. Here they learned the nitty gritty bits of successful survival from instructors who had finished their tours.

Then it was to a replacement depot for final assignment to a Group as needs dictated. The needs that dictated were always the loss of another crew, for which a replacement was immediately needed. The young guys probably never really appreciated how all this fit together, just that they were on their way and they were being kept busy as they went.

They didn’t spend much time, only a day or two at the replacement depot, waiting for an assignment. My father’s crew was first assigned to a Group near the 447th, but within a day, was re-assigned to the 447th. I don’t think he ever understood why. However, with the knowledge we are sharing today, I’ve been able to discover why his crew was reassigned.

The day before Dad’s reassignment, the 447th lost 2 crews on a mission…there were now 2 vacancies. The spooky thing is that both of the lost crews are shown on the 447 site–one crew got out and were taken POW, and the second were all KIA. Dad would never have known those details, and if he did, it would have been one of those things he would clearly have wanted to forget.