JOHN E. PRICE
Patriot, Chapter 1919
(ARMY
AIR FORCES, WWII, Europe)
Article February 2004
John E. Price
was born in 1923. He graduated from high school in Oklahoma
City and went to Dallas, where he worked for American Optical. He enrolled
at Texas A&M and it wasn't until after receiving his draft notice that he
finally got his parent's permission to enlist in the Air Corps. He went
into the Army Air Corps, had basic training at Sheppard Field in Wichita
Falls, then was sent to the cadre of a college training detachment at
Peabody Institute in Nashville, Tennessee. Following that, he took
preflight training at Selman Field in Monroe, Louisiana, and from there went
to Pan American Airways Navigation School at the University of Miami in
Coral Gables. One time when John was hitchhiking back to Coral Gables, he
was picked up by a party that included a Miss Mable Burnett, who was
visiting from Knoxville, Tennessee. On the ride back to his base, John and
Mable struck up a conversation that later developed into a serious
acquaintance. John graduated at Coral Gables, was commissioned Second
Lieutenant, and received his navigators wings. At Avon Park, Florida, he
received crew training, and with other aircrew members were formed into
individual B-17 bomber crews. John’s crew went to Hunter Field in Savannah,
Georgia, took delivery of a new B-17 Bomber, and flew it to England.
John and his crew were assigned to the 527th
Squadron, 379th Bomb Group, 8th Air Force based at Kimbolton,
England. After a dozen missions the bombardier, Lieutenant George McLellan, was
reassigned; and although navigators received only minimal bombardier
training, John Price became his
crew’s “togglier,” the nickname for navigators who replaced bombardiers.
The famous band director, Glen Miller, with his Army
Air Corps Band was stationed at nearby Bedford. John says,
“One time we had a water supply problem at
Kimbolton and I went over to the Red Cross Officers Club in Bedford to shower. The
club shower room had a dozen shower heads but I had it all to myself until
Glen Miller came in to shower also. He was a Major and I was but a lowly 2nd
Lieutenant, too shy to say a word. We showered in silence and I missed my
only chance to speak with him. Later that same afternoon, Queen Elizabeth
(later the Queen Mum who died in 2003) visited us. We all lined up, the
Ladies in Waiting briefed us on how to behave, then the Queen came down the
line and each one of us had our turn being introduced to her. She was such
a gracious lady.”
On some missions, the
plane got shot up so badly we had to drop out and return to Kimbolton on our
own, so it was absolutely necessary for me to know exactly where we were at
all times in order to plot a course back home. I felt like I earned my
keep. On Sep 19, 1944, our primary target was weathered in and we headed to
a secondary target in the Ruhr Valley. A FLAK burst hit a fuel line, and
too much fuel was lost to get back home. We tried to head for recently
liberated Paris, but with a dwindling fuel level, we didn’t even make it out
of Germany. We almost reached friendly territory before going down, crash
landing in a potato patch near where the German, Belgium and Luxembourg
borders meet. But, as it turned out, we were on the wrong side of the
lines.
I don’t remember the
crash landing. When I regained consciousness my right arm and leg were
broken, I had a double shot of morphine in me, and there was the sound of
small arms fire. German troops were all around, they got out of the way of
the plane when it crashed, and they just picked us up when the dust
settled. In a German hospital about 5 miles from the town of Remagen, my
right knee, crushed not broken, developed gangrene. Just days short of my
21st
birthday the leg had to be amputated above the knee. I remained there for
some months. At Christmas, a local Nazi party official visited the
hospital, passing out gifts, and explained that in their area the Nazis were
more like our American Legion. He said since I was a POW he couldn’t give
me anything, but, then he winked at me and gave the SS officer in the bed
next to mine two sets of everything. I brought my set of items back as
souvenirs, especially the small shaving mirror.
I developed thrombosis in the other leg and got pneumonia. I was really in
a bad way. The Germans didn’t have penicillin, so they sprinkled sulfa
powder on my leg wound and gave me sulfa tablets for the pneumonia. My
health deteriorated to where one time I didn’t think I would live through
the night.
It had become obvious
that the fighting was getting closer and we were evacuated to the east, to
Bad Driburg. When they gave me my admittance exam at the hospital there, I
weighed only 98 pounds. For seven
months I would be in hospitals, never made it to a Stalag, never saw a Red
Cross worker, and my presence was never reported. I just fell through the
cracks, officially “missing in action” the entire time. That was not
entirely bad, missing out on the POW camp experiences; I even learned a good bit of conversational German. After a few
months at Bad Driburg, I was starting to get around on crutches and even
began to have a bit of fun with people who didn’t realize I knew some of
their language. The nurses used to come into my room talking about their
boyfriends, what they did, and where they did it. I let them do so for
quite some time, then one day suddenly, I broke into their conversation with
a burst of my best Deutsch sprechen. They shrieked and ran out screaming.
They came back, but never shared intimate gossip in my presence again.
By this time, I was
getting pretty sick of the war and had fervently prayed for it to soon be
over, and brashly asked for a sign by Easter. On Easter afternoon, an
artillery barrage hit the town, for no apparent reason. I now realize it’s
not proper to give God deadlines. One afternoon a few days later, we could
hear the sound of gunfire from off in the west. We were happy because that
meant it was the Americans who were approaching (not the Russians in the
east).”
The next morning,
John
Price
was taken out by U.S. troops and evacuated to a large tent
hospital in the Ruhr Valley. From there he was flown back to England, moved
by train to Glasgow, Scotland; and on April 12, 1945 flown out to New York,
with stops along the way in Iceland and Newfoundland. After an overnight at
an airbase on Long Island, he was flown to Dallas and then taken to
McCloskey Hospital in Temple, Texas. On Oct 12, 1945, before being
discharged as a medical retiree from McCloskey,
John Price and
Mable Burnett
were married.
They went to Chicago where John entered the Northern
Illinois College of Optometry. Their twin daughters were born in Chicago
and in 1949, John became a member of the college’s 100th
graduating class. He then practiced Optometry, first in Amarillo, where
their youngest daughter was born, then to Paris (Texas) for another 10
years, before finally moving to Fort Worth in 1963.
A few years after moving to Ft. Worth, John and a partner purchased a Texas
State Optical office. He practiced optometry there until selling the
practice in 1988. But he didn't fully retire because he was always being
asked to fill in for other doctors. Finally after really retiring in 2003,
John and Mable Price
can spend more time traveling to the horse races
in Louisiana, and visiting their daughters, grandchildren and
great-grandchildren.
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John E. Price and the original B-17 crew in England,
1944.
Left to right. back row: Staff Sergeants John
Eckenrode, OH, Radio Operator and Gunner; George Lalich, NY, Tail Gunner;
Wm. M. Hardin, AL, Waist Gunner; Larry L. Buckman, TX, Waist Gunner; Wm. D.
Combs, OH, Ball Turret Gunner; Roy Stanley, TX, Engineer and Top Turret
Gunner.
Front row: 2nd Lieutenants George A. McClellan, NJ,
Bombardier; John E. Price, TX, Navigator; Ralph J. Riggio, WI, Co-pilot;
Charles E. Walker, FL, Pilot.
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