When Shangri-La and Reggie's Reply emerged from the clouds at 28,000 feet over Berlin on March 8, 1944 their pilots knew they were in trouble. Of the sixteen P-51B Mustangs that had taken off from the 4th Fighter Group's Debden, England base late that morning, fourteen had either aborted or gotten lost. Only one of the 4th's aircraft was shot down.

Captain Don Gentile in Shangri-La sized up the situation. Instead of the sixteen fighters sent to meet a flight of B-17's on a bombing raid, it would be only him and Lieutenant John Godfrey providing cover from the Luftwaffe intercepters. "Good old Johnny he would never let me down," thought Gentile.

Four months earlier Gentile had a touch of vertigo while in thick cloud cover and spun out. With him, on his first mission as wingman, was John Godfrey. After regaining control of his ship at less than 1,500 feet he found Godfrey right with him when he broke through the cloud base.

Congratulated by Gentile on his superb flying, Godfrey just shrugged and walked away. He figured Gentile had just been doing some slick aerobatics.

Both men had separately enlisted in the R.A.F in Canada in 1941. Godfrey came fresh from high school in Woonsocket, Rhode Island, while Gentile already was the terror of Piqua, Ohio's residents with his low level flying antics. He had conned his father into buying him a $1,450 Aero Sports biplane which he ultimately had 300 flight hours in.

The requirements of two years of college demanded by the U.S. Army Air Force, Navy and Marines was waived by the Canadians. A couple of test hops to demonstrate minimum capability was all they needed to be accepted into the personnel-desperate R.A.F.

Number 418 Squadron was formed at Debden, Essex, England on November 15, 1941. It was the RCAF's 14th squadron formed overseas and the only Canadian Intruder squadron formed formed that way.

The unit first flew Bostons and later Mosquito aircraft on day and night intruder operations over Europe and England and claimed 178 enemy aircraft and 79.5 V-1 flying bombs destroyed (I know it sounds wierd, but a V-1 destroyed over England was only counted as a .5 kill). Leading score in the squadron was held by Squadron Leader R. Bannock with 11 aircraft and 18.5 V-1's to his credit.

On November 21, 1944 the unit was transferred to duty providing close support work with the Second Tactical Air Force based in the Netherlands. It was withdrawn from overseas service while based at Volkel, Netherlands on September 7, 1945.

Both men had then flown with the all American, 133 Eagle Squadron. Gentile had scored two victories in a Spitfire there. John had yet to score having been kept flying defensively over England while the action raged over the Continent.

On September 29th, 1942 the Eagles were transferred to the American 8th Air Force, both men ending up in the 4th's 336 Squadron.

Don had longed for the adventure of flying and fighting. He sincerely desired to return to Piqua a hero.

John had a darker catalyst for his hatred of the Germans. His P-51 was named Reggie's Reply for good reason. In 1942 his brother Reggie's ship, the merchant marine Vancouver Isle, was torpedoed off Greenland and lost with all hands.

Often Godfrey flew only as an extra pilot to fill in as needed. By March 7th he had credit for only 3« Germans, while Gentile had racked up 10«. He felt that he'd gotten into the fighting too late to avenge Reggie. By pure chance all that was about to change.

That day 188 B-24's and 351 B-17's would drop 928 tons of bombs on the Ekner ball bearing plant sixteen miles southeast of Berlin using radar through 10/10 cloud. They were escorted by 891 fighters.

November, 1943 debuted the long-range escort fighter, the P-51 Mustang. It was fast at 440 mph with its Rolls-Royce Merlin V-12 and it could out-maneuver the German planes. The bombers now had protection all the way to and from the distant targets. At least that's the way it was supposed to work.

After rubbernecking around Gentile found only Godfrey's Mustang in the air with him as forty Messerschmitt Me 109's made a shallow head-on pass at the bombers 1000 feet below. But the bombers were depending on them.

Gentile depressed the button on the end of the throttle to activate his throat mike. "Shall we break 'em up, Johnny?" "You're the boss, Don," came his reply. He was game. With Godfrey guarding his tail, they met five Me's head-on. The 109's broke first and Gentile maneuvered behind two that turned to port.

After several violent, twisting turns Gentile had closed to seventy-five yards. With difficulty Godfrey had kept up. A one second burst from the four .50 caliber Brownings sent white coolant smoke billowing out of the doomed Messerschmitt. The German took to his parachute.

Godfrey was locked on the tail of another 109 as Don said, "I'll cover you." Godfrey hammered the 109 as Gentile called, "Give 'im more Johnny, more!" The enemy exploded and spiraled down. They had broken up the attack on the bombers.

Click to continue . . .

The pair had reformed and climbed back up to 20,000 when Godfrey noticed a group of Me 109's 2,000 feet below. As they bounced them Don called out, "I'll take the port one and you take the starboard one."

Gentile walked his .50's into the cockpit with a two second burst and saw the pilot slump forward. The plane was soon in flames.

Godfrey got strikes on another German which had his belly tank still in place. This one exploded and crashed also.

Lt. Ray Clotfelter happened upon the two P-51's but could not keep up with their choreographed, machine-like gyrations. "Besides they weren't leaving anything for me," he lamented. "I finally went off and shot down a German plane I could call my own."

The bomber channel was alive with frantic chatter. The reason was some eighty enemy fighters at twelve o'clock. The bombers struggled to close up their formations as the olive drab Mustangs mixed into the Germans.

On the tail of a greenish-blue FW 190, Don pressed the button once more. Just then the P-51 yawed to starboard as the two port-side guns jammed. (Later electric ammo feeds would cure this habit.) Grasping the stick in both hands, he compensated for the braking effect of the two working .50's. Several well directed bursts set the 190 on fire. The canopy fluttered off and the pilot tumbled out.

The chute opened but flames spread through it as if it were old parchment. Gentile's remorse was penetrated by Godfrey's voice on the R/T, "You got him, Don! Poor devil."

The bombers unloaded their burdens through the clouds as heavy flak filled the sky.

"Six o'clock high! A single bandit diving on you! Break into him, Johnny!" cried Gentile. "When I say break you go right and I'll go left."

The 109 bored in for what seemed like an eternity. Perfect timing was essential. "Break!" yelled Gentile, as they both hauled the long nosed fighters around. The German followed Godfrey, who gyrated through three turns, giving the enemy pilot only tough deflection shots.

At the end of the third turn Don was in position to give the Me a short burst head-on, but the enemy was experienced and Split-S'ed for the deck. Flak was now coming up from the city below. He closed in and got hits all over the 109. Glycol started streaming out of the damaged cooling system. The Mustang's inertia carried him past the Messerschmitt as he pulled out just above the treetops. The 109 strained around to the left towards Godfrey.

"He's turning your way, Johnny. Nail Him." called Gentile. Godfrey maneuvered onto his tail and registered good hits on the thrashing, blue-gray enemy plane as Gentile's Mustang climbed above to cover. Suddenly John cried, "Finish him, Don, I'm out of ammo."

"Ok, I'll finish him." The last of his shells hit the belly tank and a fire erupted. The German climbed to 1,000 feet and bailed out. His chute opened. He would live to fight another day.

With all their guns run dry and little fuel left, it was time to head home. Climbing west they noticed what they soon realized was a lone B-17 limping home at 15,000 feet fifty miles outbound of Berlin. They closed in cautiously. The bomber gunners often shot at the P-51B's, since they resembled a Messerschmitt at a distance.

The plane was a flying wreck. Jagged holes covered the Fortress. The nose had a large one ripped in it. The right wing had massive damage and the number three engine was dead. Wires and control cables dangled in the slipstream beneaththe cockpit.

"Boy are we glad to see you guys! Have reports of bandits in the area. We have wounded. Don't leave us," the crew pleaded.

Don surveyed the damaged aircraft and wondered if they could make it back. He didn't mention that their own fighters were out of ammunition. The crew had enough to worry about.

"Little friends, bandits at eight o'clock, don't leave us." "Don't worry we won't leave. Let's go John." Throttles pushed forward as the pair of sleek white-nosed, olive-drab hunters bluffed into the Germans, breaking their attacks. Countless times along the way home, the duo slew their mounts around to the Germans' twelve o'clock position, foiling the attempts. It was as if they were testing the pair's vigilance, since none pressed a full bore attack on the crippled Fort.

The B-17 kept pleading for them not to leave. They queried the P-51s' fuel status. Gentile lied that they were in good shape. The bomber had jettisoned everything possible to lighten their load to keep them crawling along, and to cut fuel consumption.

With navigational corrections from Gentile the hulking bomber finally edged out over the North Sea. He'd called Air-Sea Rescue earlier and now opened the R/T channel again.

"Rescue launch below you. We'll be over England in a minute." The bomber crew jumped up and down, cheered, blew kisses and made thumbs-up signs.

"Little friends, thanks very, very, much. We couldn't have made it without you."

"Big friend. Our pleasure."

Go to Part II