Lt. Gerald Barker and his B-24 crew.
This article, written by guest contributor Mark Frederick, tells the tale of Pennsylvania veteran Gerald Barker, who passed away this week at the age of 99. We honor him today by sharing his life story. This article previously appeared in the Morrisons Cove Herald.
Darkness still
covers the landscape. A fiery sunrise begins to creep over the English
countryside as the gray morning haze clears. Fresh dew lays on the cracked
concrete of the airfield’s runway as hundreds of B-24 Liberator Bombers prepare
for their daily crusade into Nazi-occupied Europe.
The damp fog
slowly dissipates as the crews assemble. Bombs are loaded. Prayers are
whispered. The engines are soon sputtering on the runway. As the sea of
Liberators take-off and their tires leave the safe ground of base, some airmen wonder
if this bombing mission will be their last.
That day, on
April 8, 1944, Lieutenant William “Bill” Champney and his B-24 crew were
operating as usual. His co-pilot, Lieutenant Gerald “Jerry” Barker sat in the seat
beside him. The two aviators had become close friends since they both grew up
in Pennsylvania. This would be their fifth mission together in this aircraft.
Officially nicknamed
“Don’t Shoot—Out of Season,” their plane humorously had the image of a fat
pelican painted on the side. Jerry, however, often called the aircraft “The
Ruptured Duck” since it often swayed like a duck when it landed at Attlebridge
Airfield, near Norwich, England.
Often these
planes flew at high altitudes, making missions bitterly cold. Temperatures
sometimes reaching 50 degrees below zero. As a result, the crew bundled up in
their layers of sheepskin clothes, plugging their suits into the plane’s power
supply to keep warm.
The bombardier
peered into his Norden bombsight, patiently awaiting to drop his three ton payload
of explosives. From below, the now vibrant blue sky prominently highlighted the
group’s 350 bombers. As the squadron approached its objective, artillery flak exploded
around them. The bomb bay doors opened like a roll-top desk. Whistling could be
heard as the explosives fell.
The sporadic air
bursts caused the group’s formation to become lose and open. In the distance,
the purr of German planes could be heard. These fighters dove down from the sun,
making it difficult for them to be seen. The bomber’s .50 Caliber machine guns
opened up in defense.
A German Messerschmitt
sprayed its bullets across the body of the bomber. Explosive shells hit the
waist and nose. Gunner Sergeant Stein felt a sharp sting in his leg. He
screamed in pain as he landed in the shells that lay below him. Sergeant
Colbaugh, the other waist gunner, had his arm paralyzed, his oxygen mask blown
off and his eyes temporarily blinded.
One of the four engines
began to squirt oil, spilling out over the wing. The break accumulators were
shot and hydraulic fluid began to gush. Jerry left the cockpit and grabbed a helmet
to catch the dripping liquid, so to have enough juice to brake when landing. Luckily,
the plane and crew made it back to base. Stein and Colbaugh were hospitalized. The
plane was never quite the same. This unforgettable mission stayed with Jerry
Barker for the rest of his life.
Gerald Leslie
Barker was born on June 21, 1918, his mother’s 31st birthday. He, along with his
other three siblings, lived with their parents in the West End of Pittsburgh. Jerry
excelled in elementary school, skipping two half years. He eventually attended
Langley High and joined the school band.
When the Great
Depression hit in October 1929, Jerry and his family struggled financially.
Yet, with the help of his band director, he was fortunate enough to receive a
scholarship to Juniata College at age 16. Graduating in 1939, Jerry majored in
music and minored in English and Biology. According to his yearbook, he was
“quiet and reserved,” but always had a unique “twinkle in his eye!”
Jerry began
teaching music at the high school in Armagh, PA. While retrieving his mail at
the local post office, he met Eleanor Hess, a music teacher who taught in the neighboring
town of Seward. They began dating, enjoying school activities, operettas and
other social functions.
In August 1941,
they decided to get married. However, Eleanor’s hometown church in Johnstown
was being renovated and the minister was on vacation. Therefore, it was arranged
that the two of them would be married at the minister’s summer cottage in the Delaware
Water Gap.
At that time,
Daylight Savings Time was a local option and after a long four-hour drive, Jerry
was disappointed to find that all of the local flower shops had closed the hour
before. Luckily, when the two families arrived at the cottage, they discovered
that the minister’s wife had picked roses for the occasion. Jerry crafted a
corsage for his bride. It was a day to remember.
However, four months
later, a day of infamy overshadowed any other. On December 7, bombs fell at
Pearl Harbor, thrusting the United States’ into World War II. Similar to other
young Americans, Jerry felt the urge to fight and enlisted in the Army Air Corps.
Jerry continued
to teach until he was finally called up in December 1942, reporting to San
Antonio for training. A pregnant Eleanor desired to be closer to her husband,
so throughout 1943 she and several other wives carpooled to Texas to visit their
husbands. Eventually, though, Eleanor’s pregnancy progressed to the extent that
she could no longer travel easily.
On July 4, 1943,
Eleanor gave birth to Nancy, unfortunately while Jerry was still enduring
intense aerobatics in Texas. Seven weeks later, Eleanor and Nancy drove to Waco
for Jerry’s pilot graduation. With the help of her mother, little Nancy pinned the
silver pilot wings on her dad. Before going overseas, Jerry removed the soles
from Nancy’s first pair of shoes, eventually carrying them with him on the 30 bombing
missions that would follow.
Assigned to the
466th Bomb Group of the 8th Air Force, Jerry eventually rendezvoused
with his B-24 and its crew in Kansas. From there, they flew the plane to
Florida where ground crews inspected the bomber while officers searched the
airplane for black-market contraband.
Unbeknownst to their
superiors, the crew had hidden several bottles of liquor in the belly of the
aircraft. They traveled from Florida to England, stopping in Brazil and Morocco
along the way. The liquor was never discovered and the crew was able to
secretly enjoy their libations in Marrakesh.
Life in England was
difficult and tiring. Living in a small, concrete barrack with no running water,
Jerry and the other three lieutenants of his plane bunked together. Their small
stove was inadequate in providing warmth on bitter February nights.
When a plane
crashed on the runway, Jerry acquired its hydraulic lines, ran water pipes from
the base’s wash house and snatched a spare oil can, eventually crafting a
makeshift hot water heater. Unfortunately, it only provided enough warm water for
four men to shave every morning.
His squadron
entered combat on March 23, 1944. The group was typically responsible for
destroying aircraft plants, railroad yards, oil refineries and ball bearing
factories.
On June 6, 1944,
Operation Overlord, better known as D-Day, commenced on the beaches of Northern
France. Ships were already on their way across the English Channel when the
crews of the 466th were ordered to assist. Their mission, officially
named Operation Cover, would not only target coastal defenses, but also weaken
the enemy’s transportation routes. As “The Ruptured Duck” made its way to
Normandy, Jerry stared down at the colossal armada of 7,000 Allied vessels.
Meanwhile,
Eleanor had not received any letters from Jerry, unaware that the military had
halted all mail circulation so no news of the landings could be leaked. She
later received his letters – all at once.
In August 1945, he
returned to the states and became a military flight instructor in Albany, Georgia
until he was discharged. Jerry returned to the classroom, teaching music and
directing band at Williamsburg High School.
During the summer
months, Jerry attended Penn State University, working toward his master’s
degree in music education, plus a course in aeronautics. Eleanor taught
elementary music, until their daughter, Patricia Jane, was born on March 9,
1946. Jerry retired from teaching in 1947.
In 1948, Jerry created
the Keystone Milling, Co. in Williamsburg. Even though he did not know wheat
from barley, the business soon flourished, manufacturing custom-mixed feed and
flour.
On July 18, 1953,
the Barkers had their third daughter, Evelyn Claire. In August, Jerry and his
brother bought the Clouse Farm near Alexandria and began the Short Mountain
Nursery. In 1987, the family sold Keystone Milling so they could concentrate on
their growing tree farm. The brothers later separated the business, and Jerry’s
portion became known as JB Tree Farm, which still operates today under the
ownership of Evelyn and her husband.
The Barkers never
really retired though. They were always involved in their community. Eleanor
played the organ at church. She loved to paint, sew, bake and garden, remaining
active until she became ill before her passing in 2007. Jerry directed the church
choir and played in the Altoona Symphony Orchestra for almost 40 years. He
built his own experimental airplane, rekindling his love for flying. A talented
handyman, he even designed and built their last house.
Jerry
passed away in March 2018, just three months shy of his 100th birthday. He
certainly had a full life, collecting a surplus of memories that some of us
will never attain in our lifetime. Similar to the rest of his generation, he
learned from the lessons of pain and love, gaining years of wisdom, ultimately
surviving and thriving in a sometimes cruel, difficult world.
His
granddaughter, Bonnie Butler, summarized his life best. “Although small in
stature, he is a giant, never letting size stand in the way of anything he
wanted to accomplish. He is brave, incredibly smart, funny and hardworking, the
best grandfather a girl could possibly ask for. He lived his life with vigor
and enthusiasm, using all of his considerable gifts to make the world a better
place.”
The shoe sole that
Jerry Barker carried with him on all 30 of his bombing missions over
Nazi-occupied Europe. Its inscription says “Nancy’s Shoe Sole - I pray the Lord
her sole to keep.”
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