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Robertson Bruce Graham
A WWII Remembrance-Part V
Submitted by: Randy Graham © July 2003 Roseville, CA
Wounded In Action
Four days before being wounded in a raid over Marsala, Italy, dad writes about the unsung heroism of the medical corps in not only helping the "boys" but in helping the locals. In a letter to Gran and John R. (Grandma and Grandpappy) dated May 7, 1943, dad writes "One thing I've been meaning to tell you. Of course you know what a great job our medical corps does with our boys in helping them keep healthy and to recuperate. But few people know how they help the natives.
"Every day at the dispensary, Arabs call for medical aid. The doctors are usually plenty tired after attending to our own men, but I've never seen any of them turn down an Arab that needed attention. The doctors treat them for everything from colds to broken legs. The most pathetic case I'd seen was an Arab bringing in a four year old child covered with horrible looking sores. When the doctors finish with each one, they usually give them gum, candy or cigarettes. I wonder if Hitler and the boys do such things???
"It's a cinch the Arab's standard of living has risen considerably since our invasion here. Naturally, where Americans go, so does the American heritage and wealth. Many natives are working for the government here, and getting paid damn well for it. At least more than anyone else would pay them. The British are very stringy with money, and the Germans enforce slavery."
On May 10, 1943, dad participated in a raid over Borrizo, Sicily. The next day, May 11, on a bombing raid over Marsala, Italy, dad was wounded in the right arm and chest as enemy planes fired on their formation. As he told an audience at the Merced Theatre after he got home, "...I picked up a piece of cannon shell from an Italian fighter in my arm while flying a mission over.... I considered myself very lucky that day. I had leaned forward to adjust one of the instruments and - bop - I was hit. Had I been sitting normally in the seat I would have caught it right in the chest and might not have been here tonight to tell about it."
The citation for the Purple Heart, dated 16 May 1943, reads: "Under the provisions of AR 600-45 as amended Robertson B. Graham 2nd Lt. 0-728858 353rd Bomb Sq., 301st Bomb Gr. was presented the Purple Heart this date for wounds multiple flak wounds right arm and right chest received in action against an enemy of the united States, at or near over Sicily attacked by enemy plane on 11 May 1943. Serial number of the medal 413046."
The doctors dug a piece of metal 14mm wide and 26mm long out of his arm and awarded it to him after the surgery. He kept it as a souvenir with the coins he collected in Africa and finally with his discharge papers. For the rest of his life, he carried a noticeable scar on his right arm, as a reminder of the time spent in Africa and the war.
Dad wrote to Gran and John R. from a field hospital in Africa. In his letter dated May 16, 1943 he says "Comes a time to get a letter off to you from the hospital. Have been here almost a week now, and am about ready to go back to work if they ever turn me loose. That's the trouble with these Army hospitals. Once you get in, you have a helluva time getting out.
"Have been lots of good rest and sunshine here. My body is really tan. They let me sleep as late as I want, but after getting up at 6 every morning, I find it hard to sleep past 8 am. The Red Cross is really on the job here at the hospital. They furnish games, writing paper, candy, cigarettes, and in general, keep the boys minds off their misfortune. The fellows here - all officers - are really great guys. Really can't write too much. It kind of hurts my arm. I will close for now. Write soon and often."
In a letter from Yvette to Gran and John R. dated "Tuesday", dad's mom writes about the shock of receiving a telegram from the Army, knowing that her only son was putting his life on the line every time he took to the air. In the letter she says, "Received a letter yesterday that Bruce had dictated to a buddy of his. It was written the day he was hurt. Said that just in case the government had notified that he was wounded, for us not to worry that he was wounded in the right arm, and would be well in a few days.
"It was sent 'V-Mail' and came through in three weeks. That was all there was in it. We also received a lovely long letter from Bruce dated the 26th of April. Pat said that you had received two and that she was going to forward them on. You will never know how terrible it was for me to come home at noon, open the front door and have this 'Postal Telegram' fall at my feet. It frightened me nearly to death. Just the fact that it was Postal scared me. I began to shake all over, then I got a chill and then I began to stiffen.
"I had sense enough to sit by the phone and I know I sat there for over five minutes before I even got the courage to open it. Then I phoned Jack and Lottie. Lottie and M. came right over. I've never experienced anything like it before and never hope to have to again. I'm happy to know that it wasn't any worse and it is a satisfaction to know that we won't be in the air for some- time. I DO HOPE they have the invasion of Italy while he is laid up."
A Merced Sun-Star article dated June 2, 1943 and titled Learn Lt. Graham Shot in Right Arm had this to say: "A letter from north Africa brought cheering news this week to Mr. and Mrs. Jack Graham when a buddy of Lt. Bruce Graham informed them that their son would be back in action - at the helm of a flying fortress soon. The wound Bruce received in the final phases of the Tunisia campaign was a shrapnel or bullet wound in the right arm. It did not fracture any bones. The War Department today officially confirmed a report received here several weeks ago of awarding of the Air Medal to "Lt. Graham of North West Africa Air Force for exceptional aerial performance in the Tunisia campaign."
Another article in the Fresno Bee dated August 5, 1943 documents dad’s exploits while wounded. It reads "Jack Graham, a fireman at Merced Air Field, has a trophy of the European war to show his friends. It is a pair of wings won not too long ago by a German Messerschmidt pilot and at present the property of Lieutenant Bruce Graham of Merced, the fireman's son.
"How Bruce got the wings is one of those stories - it happens once in a lifetime. The Merced flier was wounded in an air battle in the final phase of the Tunisia Campaign. He was piloting a Flying Fortress when a piece of ack ack shrapnel hit him in the arm. While recuperating in base hospital in Tunisia he and a friend took leave one day, borrowed an Army motorcycle and headed out to see the sights. En route they entered a prison camp occupied by a number of German soldiers and pilots.
"During a conversation with the Germans - one of them could speak English - a pilot asked Graham whether by chance he knew the pilot of flying fortress No. __. Graham answered somewhat excitedly: 'Sure I do, it is me.' The pilot then ripped off the pair of wings on his blouse and handed them to him saying, through his interpreter, 'Your tail gunner shot me down. These wings now belong to you, not me'. Bruce accepted the token as a victorious general accepts the sword of his conquered foe.
"When Graham and his friends returned to headquarters, he turned the wings over to his tail gunner but the happy sergeant asked him to keep them as a trophy and good luck charm for the crew of Flying Fortress No. __."
After being released from the hospital, dad was readmitted in early June because of a secondary infection of the elbow as a result of the flak wound. He was released in good health by mid June and was back in the air on June 18 taking part in a raid on Messina, Italy and then again over Messina on June 25.
In a letter dated June 11, 1943 to Gran and John R, dad writes "Finally got out of the hospital again. This time for good, I hope. The only good thing about being there is you can get plenty of rest and relaxation. It is a month today since I was wounded. Haven't flown since, and the Doc says I'll have to stay on the ground a while longer. My arm is 99% healed, but it is still quite weak. As it is the arm I do all the flying with; I have to have lots of strength in it.
"The weather here now is really terrific. The nights are beautiful and cool...but the days! Gad! But it gets hot. Our tents are like furnaces. The bugs and insects drive you nuts. I've never seen them so thick. And such horrible looking creatures too! Every year at this time, the Arabs and their families start a migration with their live stock to the hills for pasture. The roads are just filled with them now. It takes an hour to drive 10 miles. They herd sheep, horses, donkeys, cattle, and camels. They carry everything they own with them. Looks so funny. What a life they live.
"The more wealthy Arabs buy clothes off the enlisted men. I was in town the other day and passed some men who saluted very nicely. Then I passed a Lance Corporal who just looked at me, and showed no signs of military courtesy at all. I stopped and started to give him hell. The poor devil was an Arab in Corporal's uniform! I sure felt funny. An Arab has offered 500 Francs ($10.00) for every mattress cover he can buy. They cut them up and use them for clothes.
"I saw a little Arab girl running around town with a flour sack wrapped around her, and our shipping number was painted on it right across her little behind. We got quite a bang out of it. Several of the ground outfits have adopted young Arab boys as mascots, taking them every place they go. It's surprising how the little devils pick up English; most of it profanity, though. One little kid, Ali they call him, stands in the pay line and receives 20 Francs pay every month (20Fr = 40 cents).
"You mentioned my staying in the service. I've given it considerable thought, but have reached no decision as yet. Since I've been over here, I've had two offers to put me in business when I get back, and they both look damn good. However, there's a long war ahead, and plenty of time to consider. So I haven't reached a decision yet."
One day, when dad was telling me about his flak wound and showing me the piece of metal taken out of his arm, I asked him why he didn't stay in the Air Force. He replied that it just didn't feel right. He didn't feel right about flying and was afraid that his luck had run out. At the time he would have reenlisted, Korea was starting up. The Army said they needed experienced pilots and that he'd be able to continue flying if he re-up'd. That was the last thing he wanted to hear he said, and opted not to stay in. There is a handwritten note under the remarks section of his Flight Officer’s Qualifications Record at discharge time that says, “avai’l class code D-II unwilling to fly if ordered to”.
Submitted by: Randy Graham © July 200
Published in U S Legacies Magazine October 2004
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