Images of Official Crash Report

On April 14, we were assigned our second mission. We were awakened around 3:30 a.m., and advised that a full crew was not required. The request was for the engineer, radio operator, and one gunner. This automatically included Seale and May, but we all wanted to go, so we drew cards, with high card the winner. I won, and immediately went to dress in flight clothes, have coffee and doughnuts, and attend the briefing. During the briefing we were told that our regular co-pilot would not be making the trip. A substitute with more combat experience would be taking his place. I didn't get to talk with the new co-pilot, but I later learned that his name was Lt. Joseph J. Szoke.

For takeoff, Lavonsky and I were located in the planes waist section. The rest of the crew was on the flight deck at the pilot's compartment. The pilot called me on the intercom to ensure that everything was satisfactory in the rear of the aircraft. I reported everything secure, and that we were ready for takeoff. It was still dark and foggy when our clearance came. Each plane was taking off at 30-second intervals. A few minutes after becoming airborne, I noticed the inboard engine on the left side was "flaming" regularly, and did not appear to be running properly. I called the pilot several times on the intercom, but received no answer. The plane was having trouble gaining altitude, too. Our landing lights were still on, and I could see the tops of trees below.

Suddenly there was a flash and an explosion. I was thrown against the wall of the plane, and knocked unconscious. When I came to, I was lying on the ground on my back in a wooded area, surrounded by a large fire. The entire area had been drenched with aircraft fuel, and the fire was intense. Oxygen containers were exploding periodically in the fire, but I found myself unable to move. Various pieces of the plane were scattered all around me. One landing gear was sticking up in the air, the wheel still turning. I heard something moving close by, and discovered that it was Lavonsky. When I called to him, he crawled over and lay down beside me. Shortly afterward an English gentleman who lived nearby arrived and sat down next to us. He assured me that he'd stay until help arrived. He inquired about how many bombs we had on board. He said he'd only seen two, but none had exploded. He also placed something under my head for comfort, but I assure you, his presence alone was heaven-sent. I just knew my time was near. An English doctor arrived and gave me an injection to relieve the pain. An English volunteer fire department arrived and moved Lavonsky from the burning area using a ladder as a stretcher. As daylight approached, the fire subsided and sometime later an Army ambulance backed into the area. I smoked cigarettes and drank water while the medics attached a brace to my right leg and administered a blood transfusion. A large crowd gathered and shortly afterward I was placed in the ambulance and returned to the base.

At the base hospital I learned the sad fate of the other crew members. They had been killed instantly. Totten, Szoke, Anderson, Seale, and May. Only Lavonsky and I had survived. Official records state that a few minutes after takeoff, the aircraft struck some electrical wires about two miles north of the airfield in the village of Hainford, setting one engine on fire. Immediately after that, the ship collided with a tree and crashed into the ground, breaking up and catching fire. A Liberator that took off behind us crashed at about the same time at Spixworth, killing six of its crew members, leaving only one survivor. Several hours passed before I left for the 4210th US Army Hospital at Wymondham. Lavonsky was not seriously injured, so he was treated at the base hospital, where he required only a few weeks stay. I received a broken right leg, left ankle, left arm, several ribs, and several vertebrae. Three weeks later the war in Europe was over. Germany surrendered on May 7, 1945. The remaining members of my crew returned to the United States, while I spent the next two months in the hospital in traction.

Don Neville finally arrived home on July 20, 1945, but spent the next nine months in four different Army hospitals before being discharged.