THE STRANGE, FASCINATING, AND SAD STORY OF THE "LADY BE GOOD"

"I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favor to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all." Ecclesiastes 9:11

If the nine U.S. Army Air Force crewmen had known that April 4, 1943 afternoon when they took off from a base near Benghazi, Libya on a mission to bomb targets in Italy, that they would soon be statistics to be added to the 65,164 airmen killed in World War II, they might have "called in sick." In fact, they had no idea that they would never again be seen alive on this earth and their bodies would not even be discovered until 16 years later.

I first heard this story in 1961 when a good friend and pilot told me about it and lent me Dennis E. McClendan's very excellent book--"The Lady Be Good." I borrowed it, read it; several years later I borrowed it again--and read it again. In the 70's it was reprinted and I got my own copy and read it again. (Good thing too--they are listed now at up to 348.00, though I believe a diligent book searcher could find one much cheaper.)

The story is this: The crew of "Lady Be Good" were on their first mission and in a brand new Consolidated B-24D Liberator, four engine heavy bomber, serial# 41-24301, with ID# 64 painted on the nose in tall letters. (Reader's info: this was the most-produced U.S. Bomber of the war, with some 18,000 being built; and at a cost of $297,627 each---$4.4 million in today's dollars.)

They were in the second wave of 13 planes totaling 25 planes in all, headed for Naples, Italy. The Lady was among the last two or three of the planes to take off. Soon all were caught in a terrific sandstorm, nine turned back, and The Lady was separated somehow from the the others, but she continued her mission, finally having to bomb an alternate target due to poor visibility over main target.

So she then began her long lonely trip back across the vast dark Mediterranean Sea, on her way home to her base at Soluch, near Benghazi. At 12:12 a.m. (civilian time), still flying alone, the pilot Lt. Hatton, called the base on his radio and stated that his automatic direction finder was not working and asked for a bearing to verify his position. The bearing was sent out but there is no knowledge as to whether the plane received it or not. And in those days, one could receive a bearing but be on "the back side of it, going away." Thus he could have been...past his base.

Plane engines were heard high above the base by the concerned ground crews about this time and flares were fired into the air.

Apparently, as deduced later, the crew could not distinguish the ocean from the land due to the dense darkness, and never knew when they crossed the coast. Thus Lt. Hatton flew on and on, deeper into the interior of North Africa. At about 2 a.m.with three sputtering engines feathered and one running, the plane was set on "auto-pilot" and the crew bailed out wearing their Mae West life preservers, apparently thinking they were still over the ocean.

The Lady Be Good still had enough fuel so that it flew 16 miles further into the desert and made a somewhat "gentle" belly landing, but breaking in two. The crash was deep in the desert near the Egyptian border, and a little over 100 miles north of an oasis.

When the plane didn't return, a concerned base sent out air searches, some over the ocean, but no trace of plane or crew was found. No one thought to look over four hundred miles south in the desert.

The first reported sighting of the plane's wreckage was by a British Oil exploration crew, November 9,1958. They notified Wheelus Air Force Base. No search was conducted at that time. On February 27, 1959 a British oil surveyor team again reported the wreckage at 440 miles south of Soluch. On May 26, 1959, a team from Wheelus AFB found the wreckage.

The plane, as noted earlier, was broken in two and no sign of the crew was found other than odds and ends in the plane, including a thermos of tea still drinkable, and some food and water.

The plane, in the dry desert air, was immaculately preserved; the .50 caliber machines guns fired right off when tested. The radio was taken out and hooked up to an electrical source and worked immediately. No parachutes were found.

In February of 1960, the U.S. Army conducted a formal search for the missing men. They found five in one group. Diaries were found, enabling them to piece the events together. The five had apparently become exhausted due to lack of food and water, freezing nights, and exposure to the harsh sun. (The entire group had only one canteen of water.) A path of discarded equipment, miscellaneous items, and scraps of parachutes weighted by arrows of rocks, had led to the first five. Then they found one more, 21 miles further on, and the last who was strong enough to make it 6 miles beyond that. One crew member was never found. Also it was discovered later that one had died when his chute didn't open.

The searchers, from the diaries and other evidence, determined that the men thought they were jumping over the ocean. On landing, they fired their revolvers and flares and got together in a group and started the long walk north, wrapping up in their parachutes against the cold desert nights. They actually thought they were near the Mediterranean coast, and were not really expecting a long hike. As it turned out, some walked 100 miles.

The Graves Registration Service Report on the incident ascribed the crash to "navigational error" and said in part: "The action of the pilot flying 440 miles into the desert, however, indicates the navaigator probably took a reciprocal reading off the back of the radio directional loop antenna from a position beyond and south of Benine but 'on course.' The pilot flew into the desert, thinking he was still over the Mediterranean Sea and on his way to Benina."

The bodies were all removed and given military burials at the proper places. Through the years parts of the plane were removed by different groups, individuals, and scavengers. Some parts of the plane can be seen in various military museums, mostly in the U.S. A propeller may be seen in the hometown of the co-pilot, Robert E. La Motte. An ironic thing, it seems to me, is that a pretty good bit of the wreckage is stored at Jamal AFB, Libya.

Adolph Hitler's war, which cost the world 60-70 million souls, must have been a shock to the whole conscience of civilization. It must have sorely touched the Heart of God. It certainly caused untold grief and misery to all involved, and specifically to the families of these good American men. These men wanted to live, just like all of us; they too wanted families...and little children.

One of my high school friends noted recently, something like this: "It's not popular anymore to talk about World War II; it's not taught much in schools and most people would rather not think about it." I respect this man's opinion. Regarding this conflict, I have always said: "The only thing worse than remembering....is forgetting."

We will remember these Americans, crewmen of the "Lady Be Good:"
1st Lt. William J. Hatton, Pilot
2nd Lt. Robert F. Toner, Co-Pilot
2nd Lt. D.P. Hays, Navigator
2nd Lt. John S. Woravka, Bombardier
T/Sgt. Harold J., Flight Engineer
T/Sgt. Robert E. La Motte, Radio Operator
S/Sgt. Guy E. Shelley, Gunner
S/Sgt. Vernon L. Moore, Gunner
S/Sgt. Samuel E. Adams, Gunner
Members of 514th Bomb Squadron; 376 Bomb Group, United States Army Air Corps

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WHAT THIS COUNTRY NEEDS IS A GOOD 75 CENT MUFFIN

In 1918 during a speech in congress, the orator kept referring to: "What this country needs is..."

Listening to this long winded "needs" speech, Vice President Thomas Riley Marshall leaned over to a clerk and said: "What this country NEEDS is a good five cent cigar." (Thirty years later we teen-age boys might have told him about John Ruskins, King Edwards, and Swisher Sweets, all good five cent cigars, we thought! LOL.)

Let's get to the point of this post. OUR DOLLAR IS BEING INSULTED! My heart bleeds for our dollar. Whatever happened to it? Why, I can remember in 1944 when I walked the neighborhood, mowing lawns @ 50 cents each, with an old push mower, in the summer heat,  ("uphill both ways," as Bill Cosby says), and getting paid with those wonderful Walking Liberty silver half dollars, one of the most beautiful coins ever designed. That was a lot of money then.

"Okay," you say, "but don't you know times have changed? Everything is up, including salaries."
But doesn't it irritate you to pay two dollars and fifty cents for a little old muffin--one that you could bake at home for twenty cents? Friends, some people in our society are profiting off us.

It is not a matter of whether we can afford it--it is a matter of principle; the dollar is not worth much if it takes two and a half of them-- or more-- to buy a silly muffin. Particularly bad are these expensive coffee shops (about which my old-timer friend says he'll never pay two bucks for a cup of coffee)--they offer little puny pastries of three bites at $1.95 each.

It's no wonder restaurants don't make it nowadays. They not only go up on their prices but go down on the amount/quality of the food. People WILL pay more for good quality.

When a young man in high school, I sold Arrow shirts for $3.95 to $5.00. Ties were $1.50 to $5.00 each. A pair of Levi's jeans was $3.75. Curlee suits were $65.00; Hart, S.& M. suits were $95.00; Hickey-Freeman suits were $125.00. Socks were $1.25 pair; tee shirts were 3/$5.00. A Stetson hat could be bought for $20.00. The best Stetson, a 7X, was $50.00. And on we could go...

Now shirts are shown at up to $218.00 each; mens' Levi's jeans go for $50 to $60; suits run up to two grand, the Italian ones of course. Oh, and neckties I have seen at $98.00 to $118.00 each. Tee shirts, the better ones can run $20 to $40 each. Stetson hats can cost $400 or more. Are you ready for this? Socks @ $25 to $40 a pair.... And let's not forget womens' clothes and blouses at $80-$90 each.

Admittedly, I have quoted prices from supposedly top of the line catalogs...but if you think I'm far off, go out there and do some pricing.

My first new car was a '57 Chevrolet Impala Hardtop, gold and white, @ $2700. Now I know a man who recently had to pay $3100 for a set of hearing aids. Which do you think took the most work to build?
A whole new post could be written on who is getting rich off old folks, with prescriptions running sometimes $250 to $500 each.

Well, let's stop there. It's just kind of "the principle of the thing" that gets me...and my heart bleeds for our GREAT DOLLAR, now gone. But, hey out there, couldn't somebody give us a 75 cent muffin? Please....

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"QUILTS" RESPONSE----FROM A FRIEND OF SEVENTY YEARS

This response is much appreciated by me, especially coming from a friend of seventy years, and a writer himself although he won't admit it.

With our one brother each, we played marbles, spun tops, built mud houses with our putty knives, made rubber-guns, walked on stilts, played baseball and football, fought WWII, dug foxholes, read "Joe Palooka in the Army" comic strips, read comic books, fished for "translers" with gum on a string, and made WWII model airplanes. We watched from the shade on hot summer days--B17's, B24's, and finally B29's circling around the outskirts of Clovis. Here is his "quilt" response, a little piece of Americana in itself:

"Hi Mil, In the late 30's--early 40's at ----Thornton we had chickens in the back yard and the garden as well. But no cow---but Dad being the horse lover that he was, always had a couple of horses. Two of his favorites were Streak and Buddy---his roping horses. This was the same time you were writing about your family at ---Reid and we were only one block apart.

Times were tough but we didn't know it because everyone was in the same situation. But I don't want to get side-tracked from the quilts.

I remember that Mother would take A. and me to El Rancho Milling to buy chicken feed. She would say "Okay boys, what material do you want your shirts made of?" A. and I would ponder and finally pick out a pattern that we liked---actually it didn't make any difference to me---I really didn't care whether I had a shirt or not. Then Mother would buy two 50 pound bags of chicken feed that was sacked in colorful prints. When the feed was gone, the sacks were washed and then Mother would make us beautiful shirts to wear to school or church. She was a superb seamstress.

Now the interesting thing about this story is that the scraps from those feed sacks were always saved---nothing went to waste. And yes, many years later after Mother had saved scraps and made quilts, A. and I would look at those beautiful quilts and say, "Remember my shirt out of this print?" Mother's quilts were a story book of memories.

We would say, "Look at this, Mother made a dress out of this!" Oh, what fond memories those old quilts told! And we still have a quilt or so that Mother made....and we can still pick out of those old familiar prints.
Mil, if it is usable...use whatever you desire...have a good day,

Your old friend,

B.J.

Mil's note: Yes, I remember--his mother was an expert seamstress, and a canner of great skill also. A good title for B.s response would have been his line above: "MOTHER'S QUILTS WERE A STORY BOOK OF MEMORIES." Thanks so much, B.
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I NEVER MET A QUILT I DIDN'T LIKE

There is something magical, homey, reassuring, secure, beautiful, and SPLENDID about quilts! If ever an inanimate object can give off positive vibes, a quilt can. We see in their creation by hand, the loving vibes are sewn right in.

The very economy of construction in the early colonial/frontier days, using memorable remnants of old shirts, dresses, pants, flour sacks, or whatever---speaks of family and love and togetherness, and promises warmth on many years of winter nights to come.

In my estimation quilts are right up there with Mother, home, the flag, apple pie and Chevrolet.

There is an old tradition that, in quilting, the makers should build one mistake into it---to remind us that it is a metaphor for life: not perfect, but beautiful still, if you do your best.

Thoughts, Stories, and Items about Quilts:

-------In the late 1930's when I was very small, we visited my grandparents at a big two-story farmhouse in rural West Texas. It had heat in only the kitchen and living room, and probably no insulation. In a COLD upstairs bedroom they tucked Little Me into a bed and put a hot brick wrapped in a towel at my feet and covered me with quilts. You know, I made it OK.

-------In later years my grandmother got that new farm house close to town. She had a frame rig in one bedroom that was hooked to the ceiling and lowered for quilting parties. (Remember the song: "And 'twas from Aunt Dinah's quilting party I was seein' Nellie home...?") Though I never was there to see, she had ladies over to quilt; four or eight? I don't know. Maybe they had "tag team quilting!" LOL. On the back room of her new garage, in the corner, she had an old cane bottom kitchen chair stacked half-way to the ceiling with her reserve supply of "company quilts."

-------My mother, at marriage, received six or seven of these quilts. We used them for years, and I inherited one.

-------When you are a child and your have the flu or cold, and you lie under a quilt on the couch for a few days, you inadvertently memorize the pattern on your quilt, and many years later those memories can come back.

-------My wife's mother was an incredibly talented and speedy seamstress. She by-passed all the padding and stuff and just sewed together dozens of fabric squares out of her (apparently huge) remnant box; then she sewed this to a new attractive blanket, giving thickness, two sides, and saving a lot of time.

-------Here's one for you: The writer saw a great closeout on quilts (in a catalog), and ordered two queen size ones @39.95. The patterns, I'll grant, were a little foreign-looking. Guess where they were made?  It was Russia! And pretty good quilts too!

-------My son gave me a Bear quilt throw, of which I am very proud, and which I keep by my chair for naps.

-------Quite a few restaurants around use quilts on their walls for atmosphere and nostalgia.

-------Quilting is alive and well. I counted seven shops in our city which sell patterns, fabrics, how-to books, and finished quilts. We have come a "right smart" distance from the plain old squares in quilts: now all sorts of patterns, pictures, adages, logos are available, including wedding and memorial themes.

--------Here's an interesting item: There is a NY Times Best Selling author, Jennifer Chiaverini, who has perhaps a dozen novels out in the "Elm Creek Quilt Novels." I'm not sure how they are written but I think she incorporates quilt patterns into her stories. Worth checking out!

Well, guess this is enough for now. I want you to send me a story of a couple of paragraphs with your feeling about or experiences with quilts. Ho-hum..... I think I may go get in my easy chair, cover up with my Bear Quilt, and read that Faulkner book I have been putting off. (He does make me sleepy.)

But, you're right--something poetic is needed to end a quilt post. Let me try: "I raise my cup of Hot Apple Cider to by-gone days of childhood, cold winter nights, snowstorms, winds whistling around the corners of the house, old tree limbs thumping against the roof, snug evenings around the fireplace, and finally, warm quilts to snuggle under!"

By Mil, 11-12-11

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THIS BUNDT...IS A HOME RUN!

Fall is in the air! The leaves are turning red and gold, falling from the trees, and with the nippy winds at their heels, are blowing over yards and down streets! Fragrant fireplace smoke is in the air, catalogs are arriving daily advertising smoked bacon and hams. Even I find myself writing posts about "Tomato Preserves" and "Quilts," (coming soon!)

So why not a post on one of the great Paula Deen's best recipes: a "Caramel Coffee Cake?" This may seem to be a strange post coming from a baker who gave up baking in an earlier post (see "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Oven.")

The fact is--I can no longer stifle myself.This recipe is unsurpassed. Now, first let me say that at our house "management" controls the portions, and management does not always realize the needs of a "growing boy"--so to speak. I get three of these awesome little rolls, but often my bod hankers for four or more. So I have decided to come out of retirement as a baker, purchase my own bundt pan, and MAKE MY OWN---and have CONTROL.

Now what you have all been waiting for, the recipe:
1. Get a good BUNDT pan and spray with Pam.
2. The night before, late, place in pan 15/16 these little frozen Rhodes dinner rolls; they look like golf balls.
3. Sprinkle over rolls 1 small pkg. Butterscotch Pudding, not instant, repeat--NOT instant.
4. Sprinkle over that 1/2 cup packed brown sugar.
5. Sprinkle 1/2 cup of chopped pecans.
6. Pour over this one stick of unsalted butter, melted and cooled.
7. Cover with a sheet of "Pammed" plastic wrap.
8. Let rise overnight.
9. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes
10. Let cool 10 or 15 minutes; then loosen edges and center of pan with knife.
11. Turn carefully over onto cake plate; let set for a few minutes for juices to run onto cake.
12. To serve, pull apart with fork into individual rolls.
13. Yum-Yum!!

Note, some stores do not seem to stock regular Butterscotch Pudding, only instant. So when you find it, get a whole case. LOL.

Ignoring this recipe is a big mistake, trust me. Call me when yours is ready and I'll drop by and do a free taste test for you. (Decaf, please.) Also why not submit your favorite Fall Recipe to Mil?! (Oh, and four please.)
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