Gerald Dial, Iowa farmer |
As I heard of Gerald Dial's passing on Dec. 6, I recalled how this salt-of-the-Earth Iowa farmer worked hard all his life, raising crops, livestock and a remarkable family. As I got to know Gerald through my career as an ag journalist, I'll never forget the day in May of 2006 when Gerald was preparing to plant his 60th crop.
As I prepared to write an article of Farm News in time for Memorial Day, I interviewed Gerald, who enlisted in the U.S. Army Air Force at age 17. Here's the story of Gerald, a B-17 tail gunner and member of the Greatest Generation whose inspiring legacy lives on:
Aiming for Victory:
By Darcy Dougherty Maulsby
When
the graduation speaker admonished Lohrville
High School ’s class of
1942 that their lives had changed after Dec. 7, 1941 , Gerald Dial was up for the challenge.
Gerald Dial, Army Air Corps |
“I
wanted to go into the military because all my school mates had gone,” said
Dial, 80, a farm kid who enlisted in the Army Air Force at 17. The train ride
from Des Moines
to Wichita Falls , Texas , for basic training at Sheppard Field
marked the first of many journeys that would ultimately land Dial, who
volunteered for gunnery school, in the Mediterranean Theater of Operations. As
a tail gunner and ball turret gunner, his 35 combat missions in a B-17 “Flying
Fortress” over Germany, Austria, Romania and other eastern European nations to
destroy railroads, bridges and oil refineries would earn him recognition for
valor from the Lieutenant General of the U.S. Army.
“In
air battles of great intensity, Gerald Dial has gallantly and repeatedly carried
the offensive against heavy opposition to the heart of the enemy and has, by
his unfaltering courage, earned the gratitude and praise of his fellow
countrymen, as well as his commander.”
Gerald's WW II scrapbook |
Preparing for war
Dial,
who had two brothers who also served in World War II, recalled how the training
his crew received in Sioux City
before shipping out prepared them for combat in Europe .
After completing his training at Sheppard Field and Nellis Air Force Base in Las Vegas , Dial was sent
to Lincoln , Neb. , where the military put together flight
crews. When the 10 members of Dial’s crew were assembled, they were sent to Sioux City for additional
training in the spring and early summer of 1943.
“We flew almost
every day over the Dakotas , Nebraska and Kansas ,” recalled Dial, who farms near Lake City
and planted his 60th crop this spring. “Because the pilots were
green and had to learn how to fly in tight formations, we lost more planes at Sioux City than
overseas.”
Being stationed in
Sioux City came with one big perk—Dial could catch a train to Manson and
hitchhike home to see his high school girlfriend, Alice Ann, and his family. “Those
were the days when it cost 15 cents to take your date to the show in
Lohrville,” Dial recalled.
Movie dates
quickly became a thing of the past when Dial and the crew were sent to Italy in the
latter part of 1943. The crew’s operational assignment put them with the 99th
Bomb Group at Tortorella, a few miles south of Foggia on Italy ’s eastern side. The crew
lived in six-man tents heated by an improvised stove (made from a 50-gallon oil
barrel) that ran on 100-octane gas. “We lived in those tents all through the
winter, but we were far luckier than the infantrymen who slept in the mud,” Dial
recalled.
When Dial’s pilot,
Pat O’Neil, and the crew flew their first mission 10 days after joining the 99th,
they targeted a troop concentration near Bologna
which was bombed from 20,000 feet. “We thought there was quite a bit of flak,
although this was really a fairly mild run in comparison to what we found the
next day over Blechammer on the German-Polish border,” said Dial, who always took
Alice Ann’s ring with him on each mission he flew. “A terrific barrage put
several holes in our plane.”
Gerald enjoyed lunch in the field with his wife, Alice Ann, and son, Dwight |
Before
that first flight over Europe , Dial was
promoted from a corporal to a staff sergeant. Air Force rules at the time
specified that servicemen had to be at least a staff sergeant to fly in combat.
“It had something to do with the fact that if we were shot down and captured, this
higher rank would help us receive better treatment,” said Dial, a 59-year
member of the Lake City American Legion.
It also reminded
the men’s loved ones all too clearly about the danger the crew faced. At 18,
Dial was the youngest member of his crew, which included three men whose wives
had babies on the way. For Dial’s girlfriend Alice Ann (who married Dial in
1945), it wasn’t always easy to keep her mind on her home economics studies at Iowa State .
“In my Delta Zeta sorority, four of us had boyfriends, husbands or brothers who
were tail gunners. It was hard to see young guys on campus who’d come back from
the war with legs gone and other injuries.”
Remembering a cold Christmas
For Dial, bombing missions
(which typically started at 4 a.m.
and wrapped up by 4 p.m. )
were determined by the weather. The downtime created a little free time to
write letters to loved ones and jot a few quick notes in the “My Service Diary”
that Alice Ann’s father had given him before he left for Europe .
In an entry dated Oct. 1,
1944 , Dial wrote, “Sat around in tent and read. Played blackjack
all day. Rained to beat heck the whole day. Tonight went into the Red Cross,
wrote letters and had ice cream and cake.”
Dial would have
plenty to write about after a bombing mission on Christmas Day 1944. The crew,
who had to wear oxygen masks in the unpressurized bomber starting at 10,000
feet, also wore electrically-heated flight suits to protect against
temperatures that dropped to 50 degrees below zero. As the mercury plunged, Dial’s
suit failed to heat up. “Going to the target wasn’t so bad because the sun was
shining into my position, but coming home I was in the shade as the plane’s radio
picked up Bing Crosby’s ‘White Christmas,’” recalled Dial, “I vowed I’d never
be that cold again.”
Coming home
Gerald farmed near Lake City and Yetter for more than 60 years. |
After
returning to the United
States on a troop transport ship in May
1945, Dial became a gunnery instructor at Laredo Army Air Base in Texas . Because Japan wasn’t
out of the war yet, Dial and his new bride knew there was a chance he could be
sent overseas again. Both were relieved when the war ended in August.
“I
got off the train in Jefferson, my folks picked me up, and within a week I was
running the two-row corn picker,” said Dial, who picked corn through December
and helped with hay baling, threshing and other jobs until he and Alice Ann had
the chance to rent a farm west of Lake
City in December 1946.
A long time member of Lake City's American Legion, Gerald served oyster stew each winter. |
A few years ago this
farm where the Dials raised their seven children and still live today provided
a unique setting for a reunion of the five surviving members of Dial’s World
War II crew. As old scrapbooks, photos and letters were pulled out once again, the
words that Officer James Sutton wrote to Dial on Oct. 30, 1945, from the Laredo
Army Air Field rang as true as they did decades ago. “Your contributions toward
the victory for which we fought, and which, after almost four long and trying
years, we so recently won, have earned the undying gratitude of our country.”