Golden Gate Wing Guest Speaker Archive

Presentation Date: July 24, 2003

Major Maynard Dick Stewart USAF (RET)

Speaker Photo

* WWII B-17 Waist Gunner, 95th BG(H), ETO, Horham, England. * Downed by Enemy Fire Over Railroad Yards, Hanover, Germany. * Pilot Successfully Limped B-17 Across Germany; Crash-Landed in Belgium. * WWII B-17 Waist Gunner, 95th BG(H), ETO, Horham, England
* Downed by Enemy Fire Over Railroad Yards, Hanover, Germany
* Pilot Successfully Limped B-17 Across Germany; Crash-Landed in Belgium
* GI Bill for BS & MFA, University of Utah
* Professor of Art at Cal State University-SJ & San Jose State University
* Noted Artist and Son of Well-Known Utah Artist, LeConte Stewart
* Nose-Art Artist, WWII; Painted His B-17 "Belligerent Beauty" & Others
* Extensive List of Commissioned Original Art
* Author of The Language of Painting, 1992 and Other Essays & Writings
Extensive Overseas Travel & Living Dick Stewart: WWII Veteran; Artist and Educator; Quality
Representative of "The Greatest Generation"! Those Frightening But Wonderful Days

“ My experiences in the Air Force taught me responsibility and self-reliance that contributed immensely to my civilian life. When I get together with my crew and we have a few drinks, we often say that we would like to do it all over againp.”

The image of the first slide projected on the screen in the front room of the O’Club was that of a handsome 20 year old man in an Army Air Force uniform and an attractive young woman. They were Maynard “Dick” Stewart and Helen Smith. The couple was engaged before Dick went to war, married after he returned and they shared their lives for five decades before Helen passed away in 1992.

The next image was an official Army Force photo of the crew of the B-17G Belligerent Beauty, the ship Stewart rode as waist gunner on eighteen missions with the 95th Bomb Group (Heavy) over Germany from January 1945 to VE-day the next May.  

Stewart says of the Belligerent Beauty  crew he served with, “They were all great guys and they had their strengths and weaknesses.”

“In the photograph I think we’re all looking kind of gloomy, because  we had just returned from combat, where we had been shot down over Hanover, Germany, bombing marshaling yards.”

The Crew of Belligerent Beauty

* George Brumbaugh, the pilot hailed from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.  Dick describes him as a good pilot and strict commander, who was respected by crew: “For almost a year  he was an instructor, so he really knew how to fly B-17s. I owe my life to his courage and skill in flying.” Stewart adds they hoped his German name would serve us well if we were shot down. Brumbaugh is still alive in Fort Orange, Florida.

* The co-pilot was Quentin Warta, a loner who wanted to fly in the left seat, and never got to do that. Dick says the crew cheered him when he occasionally shot a landing, because Warta “did a damn good job.”  He died a year ago of Alzheimer’s disease in Kentucky.

  * Tom Landwehr, the navigator, was from St. Cloud Minnesota.  Nicknamed “Lover” by the officers, he was shy, religious, and remorseful after the second mission for his failure to get the pilot a heading out of Germany.

* “The Old Man” , who came from Missouri, was Harold Amick, the B-17’s tail gunner. Harold drew the name because he was 27 years old, an Army career man, who was in the infantry in Hawaii at the time of the Pearl Harbor attack. Amick was the “worrier and self appointed caretaker” of the enlisted crew, and was kept busy trying to keep the boys out of trouble.

* Del Siadak, from Detroit, Michigan, was the nose gunner, armorer and togglier. His moniker of  “Sad Sack”  - - after the cartoon character - - was derived from his name.  He was also referred to as “the Polack”, due to his Polish descent.  Stewart says girls everywhere were attracted to Siadak, so much so that the rest of the crew had to “rescue” him from a half dozen Brussels prostitutes who thought Del was cute, and held him hostage on a street corner. Siadak died about 7-8  years ago of colon cancer.  

  * Prophetically, right waist gunner Maynard D. Stewart was called “Professor”.  Raised a Mormon in Kaysville, Utah,  Dick completed one year of college at the University of Utah before enlisting in the Air Corps.  Dick says it was a little odd for him to be the only non-Catholic member of his crew. 

* In the crew picture, the big man next to Stewart is Mel Glyman, the radio operator.  “The Greek,” as he was known, was the son of Greek parents who owned a small grocery store in Chicago. Dick remembers Mel’s perpetual good humor in spite of bad treatment from other crewmembers. After the war, Mel went to college and then turned the little family business into a multi-million dollar food company.

“I feel a special kinship with him, too, because when we were getting shot at, it was a comfort for me to look through the door over the catwalk and see him there. He was shaking as I was.”

Dick and Mel also shared a tradition regarding the post-mission beverage given crewmembers. “Before the debriefing we were offered drinks, usually a warm brandy or hot chocolate. Most of the gunners with me were too young to drink. And I had certain inhibitions because I had been raised a Mormon. But all the others liked to take their liquor, and Mel and I would give our drink to Jim Keefe.  We regretted that 35 years later as we were enjoying a Beefeater’s in Mel’s home in Carefree, Arizona.”

* Jim Keefe was the engineer / gunner on Belligerent Beauty . Stewart says “Big Jim”, from Minneapolis, Minnesota, epitomized the Irish personality - - he loved to drink and always had a funny story to tell, especially when telling of flying exploits. “Jim, I think, knew more about the workings of the B-17 than the pilot, and George often spoke about how  valuable he was,” says Stewart.

After the Hanover mission, Sonny Fuller, from Wills Point, Texas, replaced Ed Kuzma as ball turret gunner. Dick says the story about Sonny that most often comes to mind was when, “He got a Dear John letter from his wife, telling him everything was over. And he very quietly climbed atop his bunk (he slept above me), got out his .45... and proceeded to shoot holes in the top of our Nissen hut. “  Fuller died six years ago. 

* Smokey Davis was the original ball turret gunner, and does not appear in the crew photo. Originally from Cumberland, Maryland, “Smokey” left the crew in Texas due to a bad case of athletes foot, but he attended several reunions after the war. Dick says he remembers the Davis phrase, “This is not whiskey talking, this is Smokey talking.”

* Ed Kuzma was the ball turret gunner (also not in the photo) who joined the crew when Smokey had to stay behind. Badly wounded by a flak burst on the second mission, Ed was left at a Belgian hospital (none of the crew thought he would survive). He joined the 95th BG reunions many years later, and died of natural causes around 1988.

* Jack Kiley, the original bombardier called “Smiling Jack,” did not accompany the crew to England because by that time in the bombing campaign against Germany the 8th Air Force no longer needed bombardiers. Instead, targets were marked with smoke bombs and a togglier would simply drops bombs when over the smoke.

Stateside Training

Dick’s training to be a gunner came in 1943 at the Las Vegas Army Air Corps Gunnery School. He became an instructor in “ring and post” firing, which pleased Dick because of his Utah hunting background. Helen attended Dick’s graduation.

After his crew assignment, he was based at Alexandria, Louisiana. Dick’s most poignant memory there is of a beautiful girl who worked in the PX.

“She had the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen... All of us would go to the PX to see her and we gave her a nickname. We called her ‘P-38.’ She knew exactly what we meant and she loved it.”

On New Years Eve 1944, George Brumbaugh’s crew had a navigation mission to Big Spring, Texas in a brand new B-17G. The plan was to fly at night to the west Texas town and back to Alexandria, to test the navigator’s abilities. The rest of the crew and the co-pilot “sacked out” in the radio room for the ride.

At about two o’clock in the morning, after reaching Big Spring and turning back south-easterly to Alexandria, the crew smelled smoke coming from the front of the fuselage.

Stewart says, “Warta, the co-pilot, opened the door to the bomb bay and said, ‘My God, I’ve left my chute in my seat.’ He ran through the bomb bay and we never saw him again (on the plane).”

The crew grabbed fire extinguishers and went into the bomb bay.

“The fire seemed to be right under the upper turret and we sprayed the extinguishers on the fire, but we couldn’t put it out.  In fact, it created a toxic gas, and we were all coughing and gasping for air. We later found out that the ground crew sent us the wrong kind of fire extinguisher in our airplane.”

At that point the crew jettisoned the waist door and Smokey Davis took charge.

“He was a hillbilly from Cumberland, Maryland, and was really a courageous guy. He went though the bomb bay, was gone about a minute, and came back running, saying, ‘Nobody is flying this damned airplane.’  Smokey didn’t even stop to talk with us about it. He just buckled on his chute and jumped out the waist hatch.”

Dick says he buckled on his own chest-pack chute, upside down at first, with the rip-cord on his left side.

”I didn’t know whether it mattered, but I finally got it put on right. And then I went out. We had no instruction on how to bail out. Just what we heard from other people about how to do this. As I fell earthward, I remember looking up at the B-17 and had the impression of it taking off, uphill.  The B-17 was still flying level, not going uphill at all, but I was going downhill.

“I could see the fire roaring out of the bomb bay. It was really on fire. I had an idea that plane exploded just seconds after all of us jumped out. We had been flying at about 10,000 feet, there was quite a wind, and I remember my chute would collapse like that... and that scared the daylights out of me. I could see, too I was going to finally come down near water. I thought it was the Red River at the time. I did get myself seated in the harness and all unbuckled, ready to land in water, but instead of landing in water I landed in a grove of trees to the side of the water. It was a very cushioned landing.”

Stewart made his way through the barren territory southeast of Big Spring, until he saw cattle coming towards him. Suddenly he realized it was a stampede, and took cover behind a tree as the cattle rumbled by. 

After about 45 minutes of wandering through the hilly wasteland, Dick spotted lights in the distance.

“It turned out to be a farmer’s house. His dogs came out, barking, and he appeared in the doorway.  I could see him in the light of his open door. He was carrying what appeared to be a shotgun. And by the way, I wasn’t even wearing a  flying suit. I was wearing a blue heated flying suit that fit me like leotards. I had my helmet and goggles on, but that’s all I had. My beautiful A-2 jacket I’d just acquired went down with the airplane. I still feel bad about that.”

“I told him I was an airman flying out of Alexandria, Louisiana and I bailed out, and could he help.  He said, ‘I don’t believe you. I think you’re one of those reform school guys.’

Dick did manage to get directions to the closest highway, found the road and finally got a ride into a little town’s telephone office where he met up with two other crewmembers. An hour or two later, the whole crew was reunited - - including the pilot, navigator and engineer, who all bailed out early and landed about 50 miles from the town.

Stewart says, “They knew the fire had started right away, because it was right on the  pilot’s rear end. The fire was created by a flaw in the B-17, where the connection for oxygen and electricity ran through the same channel. The electrical system had caught fire and been fed by the oxygen, and blossomed-out there. They tried to put out the fire themselves and tried to call us on the intercom, but that was burned out, too.”

After a quick deliberation, they had opted to jump out the nose hatch, figuring the rest of the crew would discover the fire and follow.

When officers from the Inspector General’s office arrived to determine whether proper procedure had been followed in the incident, Dick says he and his crewmembers testified that, given the conditions, the pilot’s actions were justified.

Back in Alexandria, Dick took the pretty girl who had packed his parachute to dinner. After the war, she called to tell Stewart she was divorced and would like to see him, but it was too late - - he was was happily married by then.

About 15 years ago, the 95th BG had its reunion in Cincinnati. All of the crew were in attendance. They had a special dinner, with a waiter for each couple, arranged by Mel Glyman. Stewart says remarks by Brumbaugh and Landwehr on the emotional burdens they carried about the incident all these years, were relieved by the crew’s positive responses.

Nearly 60 years later, the fatal flight of the Space Shuttle Columbia was on the same southeast course of that B-17. As news of the recovery efforts was aired on TV, Dick hoped the searchers might also find wreckage of that ill-fated bomber.

335th Squadron, 95th Bomb Group, 13th Combat Wing,  3rd Air Division

Horham Air Field - - between Ipswich and Norwich, Suffolk County, East Anglia - - was the area where most American and English bomber bases were located. This was beautiful bucolic farm land, and was captured on canvas by England’s great landscape painter John Constable.

“It seemed kind of incongruous. There was all this beautiful, pastoral landscape, yet we were engaged in the business of war there,” says Stewart.

The 95th’s base was nestled among farms. There were thatch roofed houses next to the hardstands, and Dick remembers how Belligerent Beauty was on a hardstand backed up to a two-story bungalow. “Every time we would rev up our engines, it would blow straw off the roof.  In spite of that, this nice old farmer and his wife would often come  out with a tray, carrying tea for us. The way they treated us, I was just overwhelmed with their kindness and their generosity. 

Dick says when he first arrived, it was announced he was an artist, and all of his spare time was spent painting bombs on the noses of B-17s, icons for missions  completed. A-2 jackets were similarly decorated, along with the name of the bomber on the back. Dick’s artwork also graced barracks doors and sketchbooks.

Nissen huts held two crews and were the stage for many memorable events. Some were simple, like playing poker into the wee hours of the morning around the little pot belly stove that provided the only heat for the huts. One of Dick’s sketches is of the “Old Man” getting some “sack time” on his bunk. Dick says,”My inscription on the right is “F.O.”, and I’ll leave that to your imagination.”

He describes the original nose art for Belligerent Beauty : “Before making the painting... I did this drawing. And like the other females on the nose art, I tried to make the gal look as sexy as I could. Then I dropped in a Roman toga and a sword.”

The pageantry of strategic bombing from those East Anglia bases was all around  - - flares were fired before bombers landed, a parade of B-17s along the base perimeter after landing, with an audience of people from surrounding towns welcoming home the crews.

In the years since the war, Dick has connected with Ruth and Ralph Johnson, who were among the locals that cheered returning bombers. During the war they were seven or eight years old and lived right next to the base. “When the bombers came home they would sneak in the bombers and steal the chocolate bars that we didn’t eat.”

 Flying Missions

The deadly business of war at Eighth Air Force bases in East Anglia had its own daily regular rhythm. Dick recalls, “We would usually get a call --a guy would come in with a whistle and wake us all up.  And the agonizing part about that wasn’t just that we were going to get up in the cold and fly a mission, but the fact that we’d been playing poker all night, maybe only had a couple hour’s sleep before the wake up call.”

Stewart says getting dressed was followed by hauling flying gear in a duffel bag off to the combat mess, where they’d have a really good breakfast. From there it was off to the Operations Room, with the far end wall holding a big map covered by a curtain.

“The operations officer would come in, draw a cord and the curtain would part, and there you’d  see our base and a zigzag line leading in to some target in Germany. We knew where the scary, dangerous places were, and if we went to Merseberg, Regensberg or other bergs that were reputed to be bad... there’d be a big groan.”

Specialized briefings would follow - - on topics like the kind of aircraft that gunners might see - - and then crews were trucked out to the B-17s, just as the horizon was lightening.

“I used to feel pretty good about it, even when we had a dangerous target, until this jeep would roll up in front of our bomber, with a Catholic chaplain and a Rabbi. All of our guys would file out there, kneel down and receive a blessing from the chaplain. And that just gave it an air of sobriety.”

Missions had a mix of activities, each providing visual, visceral experiences - - a takeoff in zero visibility, often on a compass heading; the terror of assembling in the skies of East Anglia and over “The Wash”, with so many large airplanes lumbering through the sky; test firing the machine guns; wearing a flak vest and helmet with a 45 cal pistol strapped on one’s side; sitting on an ammunition box for protection of the “family jewels”; tossing chaff  during the bomb run, which relieved tension for Dick and the radio operator.

Post-mission, The Red Feather Club was the favorite haunt of 95th BG non-coms. Its walls were adorned with murals depicting the era of King Arthur and his knights, a contrast to the Vargas girl art of most clubs for American airmen.

When Dick visited Horham in 1995, seeing the building and remembering all the good times in the club brought tears to his eyes.

“After the mission we’d get cleaned up, take a shower, and come to The Red Feather Club, drink gallons of beer and talk about the mission. The ground crews would join us. They wanted to know everything that went on - -  who was shot up, who had to bail out . All these stories just flowed freely, like the beer. It was wonderful.”

The Red Feather Club was also the place for dances. Dick says, “The ‘Land Army’ was a group of  women who enlisted to work the farms of England, because all of the guys had gone off to the service. A group of these girls lived near our base, and they would come over to party and we’d dance with them.  I think every time they came over , we’d fall in love with a different girl and they’d fall in love with us, too.”

Dick says that on one of his trips to England, 50 years later, he was in a store in the Cotswolds buying lunch. Stewart says he would always inquire if there were any locals who were in the Great War. The woman behind the counter said she thought she had someone who worked there who was around during the war.

“She went back and brought out this old lady. Her front teeth were missing and she was carrying her mop and bucket. And she said, ‘I was here during the war. I was a Land Army Girl. Us girls just loved you Yanks.’

“So it was a bit of a letdown for me because I remembered the beautiful Land Army Girls. But then, they were only 18 or 19 years old.”

 The Hanover, Germany Mission

The target on March 14, 1945 was the railroad marshaling yards at Hanover. At the time, most of the the danger to B-17s came from anti-aircraft guns instead of Luftwaffe fighters. Just after dropping its bombs on the Hanover target, Belligerent Beauty  was rocked by several antiaircraft bursts, including a direct hit on the number three engine. 

Brumbaugh struggled to fly the flak-damaged B-17 across Germany at tree-top level. He managed to do so for at least a half hour, until he determined Belligerent Beauty  couldn’t go any further.  As it limped toward Allied held ground, the B-17 was hit many times by lighter anti-aircraft fire, and shrapnel from those rounds badly wounded Kuzma, the ball turret gunner.

In Stewart’s words, “His whole back side was shot off -  his flesh was hanging on the control cables in the fuselage where I worked. Del Siadek and myself had attempted to give Kuzma morphine, but the little syrettes we had were just frozen hard. And I can picture this today - - the two of us with these syrettes in our mouth, where we thawed out the morphine, injected poor Kuzma, and helped to save his life.”

Brumbaugh managed to crash-land the bomber in a farmer’s field near Liege, Belgium, and all the crew except  Kuzma walked away. The wounded ball turret gunner was given medical attention. He remained behind while the crew survived on the generous supply of money in its escape kit.

“We just lived off the fat of the land for about three weeks. We would wander around Brussels, visiting all the night clubs. When we would go into a club, they would see we were Americans and they would start playing the “Beer Barrel Polka” or “Deep in the Heart of Texas”.  We were honored guests.”

 Liberty  in London

Some of Dick Stewart’s moist poignant wartime experiences came in the capital city of England and the British empire - - London. For a young artist, the great city offered a deep palette of experiences starting the moment one stepped off a train at the Liverpool St. Station — a sign stated “Drink Bovril, puts lead in your pecker”; the news stand where an old man would sing out, “papers, papers, papers—condoms, condoms, condoms“; the Underground (subway tube) and the “bombed out” Londoners who lived down there on the station platforms,  oblivious to the thousands who walked by their cots; Covent Gardens; the Royal Opera House turned into a dance hall; Trafalgar Square with the statue of Lord Nelson atop a high column; movie theatres with American GIs singing “My Country ‘Tis of Thee” to the music of “God Save the King”; the Thames Embankment; and the Cockatoo Inn by Battersy Bridge, where James McNeil Whistler lived and had tea with Oscar Wilde.

  Dick was also, on at least two occasions, a witness to the random destruction of the V-1 flying bombs. “In a Red Cross house near Hyde Park, about four o’clock in the morning I heard this terrific  sound and then the window came falling in over my bed.

  Stewart vividly recalls the sights, the sounds and most importantly, the people. 

  “We would fly three or four missions and then take a trip to London. And I would usually stay at the Regent Palace Hotel on the Piccadilly, or sometimes the Strand Hotel at Trafalgar Square. There were no bathrooms in the room but down the hall they had bathtubs so big that you could practically swim laps in them.

  “The  most exciting thing to do in Piccadilly was to go down and flirt with the Piccadilly Commandos, the prostitutes. There were hundreds of them, and they weren’t just English girls. They were from all over Europe. Some of them were beautiful women, some of them were homely. Not all the GIs intended to go home with them, they just liked to flirt with them. The girls seemed to like to flirt, too. The GIs would make a pass at them and the girls would make a pass at the GIs.

  “The guys would be talking with one of the Commandos on the street and an English guy in the infantry might try to cut in, and the girl would just turn her back on him, so she could talk to the Yanks. I felt sorry for the English because we arrived in England and we took over their towns and cities and girls and they welcomed us for being there.”

  Stewart describes Piccadilly Circus at night as another world, far from the terror of bombing missions. He spoke of the night life, a carnival-like atmosphere with service men and women from all our allies, the pubs with popular music from the States and England’s Vera Lynn, and activity in darkened doorways of office buildings near the square.

  “You’d walk by and try not to look in the openings. Because in almost every opening, there were GIs having a ‘quickie’. It wasn’t just quick sex, it was sex standing up. I’ll leave it to your imagination to fill in the details.”

  Engaged to each other, Dick and Helen gave each other the freedom to date while he was overseas. Stewart says he had a girlfriend in London, who walked with a limp because she’d been injured in a V-1 buzz bomb explosion. 

  “I took her home one night on the ‘tube’ - - the Underground - - and said goodbye. It was very late as I came home... The cars had  all stopped running on the Underground, so I had to walk about 2-1/2 miles back to my hotel, in the center of London. It was a rainy, foggy night, and I was walking along briskly. All of a sudden someone stepped  out of a doorway and started chasing me.”

  Dick says it must have been someone trying to ‘roll’ him for whatever money he might have. He responded with a full sprint and simply outran his would-be assailant.

   Nearly sixty years later, Dick Stewart says,”Flying combat was sometimes a terrifying experience, but it was also a great adventure— the greatest adventure of my life! That adventure now provides me with exciting memories that amuse me in my old age.

  “My experiences in the Air Force taught me responsibility and self-reliance that contributed immensely to my civilian life. In retrospect, I feel pride and honor in having flown the “big birds” of the 8th Air Force. When I get together with my crew and we have a few drinks, we often say that we would like to do it all over again.”