Golden Gate Wing Guest Speaker Archive

Presentation Date: February 24, 2000

Robert Carney

Arnhem Missions and Horsa Glider Pilot on D-Day A pilot of both Waco CG-4 and Horsa gliders, Carney flew into Normandy on D-Day and into Holland for Operation Market Garden. His training included many hours of power-on and power-off landings, and he tells of harrowing incidents that he witnessed.

"Gliding Into Combat"

In 1941, Robert Carney was in a Wyoming logging camp when he got his draft card. He quickly decided to enlist and learn to be an airplane mechanic for the Army, rather than handle a shovel digging trenches in Alaska. He ended up flying into Normandy on D-Day and into Holland as part of Operation Market Garden. Carney spoke at the Golden Gate Wing's February dinner meeting.

In his first round of army training, Carney studied carburetors as a specialty, and was then retained in the camp as an instructor. But with a lifelong desire to fly, Carney ended up volunteering for glider training. He was one of two soldiers who left for glider training camp one Sunday morning after a sergeant said he needed 16 trainees, and was unable to reach any of the 400 who had already signed up.

"It didn't take us long to make up our mind," says Carney, "so we trotted over to base medical for our physicals and left on the train the next morning for Big Springs, Texas." That was to become home while Carney learned to fly light planes - - Aeroncas, Cubs, Taylorcraft. Soon he had 25-50 hours of short-landing practice.

"They would crank up our engines and we would take-off, fly a pattern, come in on the downwind leg, cut the engine off, raise your nose up 'til the prop would stop, make a base leg and come in to try to land on the spot," is how Bob describes the routine.

At his next stop, Twenty-nine Palms, California, he begin flying sailplanes. They were two-place Schweitzers towed by radial-engined L-1s. It was soon off to Albuquerque, New Mexico and then the Texas panhandle for flights in Waco CG-4 gliders. The Waco was a mainstay of U.S. airborne forces, built for thirteen soldiers plus the pilot. Carney says he heard the best of the CG-4 models were built by Steinway Piano Company. The British-built Horsa was the other glider, and was designed to carry 25 troops or jeeps and small artillery.

One hazard of the trade were landings made in sandstorms. Gliders spiraled tightly down from 1500-2000 feet, to land on the desert floor. Carney says in a sandstorm, "you couldn't see the glider in front or the glider behind you."

Accidents happened. And some were fatal, notably one aborted take-off when a glider rose over a ditch, then hit a stone house, killing all ten men aboard.

Training continued in Ardmore, Oklahoma and then to Louisville, Kentucky, where the emphasis was on commando tactics. Flying proficiency was maintained in light planes on exercises where pilots made their final approach over a 20 foot bamboo wall and landed as short as they could.

Carney's combat unit assignment finally came - - to the 436th Troop Carrier Group. In North Carolina, the group practiced night landings, with as many as 100 gliders trying to make it safely into a zone marked by smudge pots placed by paratroopers. There were more accident, but no fatalities.

Meanwhile, Carney says the Army was learning hard lessons from airborne operations from North Africa into Sicily. On July 9, 1943, strong winds blew tow planes and their contingent of gliders off course. Then they ran into a fire storm of anti-aircraft. Of 226 gliders on the mission, only one-of-six hit the drop zone.

Fully one-half of the 144 gliders were cut loose too soon and landed in the sea where about 200 troopers drowned. Two nights later twelve dozen C-47s were making a paratrooper drop when friendly fire shot down 23 of the planes.

These debacles were enough to make Army brass question deployment of any troops from the air. In turn, they ushered in a new tutor for glider pilots - - 1939 aerobatics champion Mike Murphy. Carney says Murphy worked for Waco and showed fledgling pilots what the glider could do, especially his precision demonstration of CG-4 landing characteristics.

"He landed a CG-4 in a pond, about 50 feet from the dam where the brass were standing, and had one wing close to shore so all the men could scramble out, get on the wings and then wade into shore."

Practice maneuvers continued, convincing Army brass of more acceptable risks of airborne operations. Overall, Carney trained 100-150 hours before being sent overseas though he says some glider pilots never got that much time.

D-Day

Flying one of the larger, British-made Horsa gliders, Carney was behind a C-47 across the channel on June 6, 1944. Bob says the glider pilots had pictures of the landing fields they were to use, but found themselves confused by smaller fields in Normandy. The Germans had also dug holes in the larger fields. The combination resulted in many gliders breaking up on very short landings, and a sense of panic among many pilots.

Watching as other gliders released tow cables short of the landing zone, Carney stuck with his tow for an extra three minutes until spotting a green pathfinder "T" set out in a field. They were already drawing fire, tracers reaching out from the field's perimeter, as the Horsa swung down toward the corner of the field.

"Just as we were about to touch down, the left landing gear hit something and broke off. A split second after that the tail hit the same obstacle. Fortunately the glider rolled straight ahead... and stopped maybe 2/3 of the way down the field. And there we sat, in the other pilots' way, who were to be coming in after us."

There was good fortune in that no other gliders landed atop Carney's Horsa. It's fuselage was broken underneath, near its center, making standard disembarking impossible. Using fire axes, Carney and his co-pilot hacked away at the fuselage to help out the eight infantrymen and to remove the jeep and radio trailer. Other Horsas began landing around them, at high speed, one bouncing off the ground and back up 30-40 feet in the air, then sticking up in a thicket of poplar tree at the clearing's end.

Carney grabbed his M-1 Garand rifle and as he and other soldiers moved down a road they came across a wounded G.I. He regretted having to leave the soldier behind, but realized they couldn't do something for the soldier while following instructions to meet at the assembly point. To this day, Carney carries that anguish with him.

Operation Market Garden

Three months later, on September 17, 1944, the Allies were ready to execute the world's largest airborne invasion. Carney was in awe of the 200 mile "sky train" of C-47s and gliders carrying 21,000 troops, stretching from dozens of airfields in England to the Dutch cities of Arnhem and Nijmegen.

Carney says the co-pilot of his Waco was an infantryman, not really a flyer but someone to help hold the aileron wheel while the glider descended. Flak jackets had been issued each flight crew member, yet they were both wrapped around Carney when his passengers realized that if Bob was shot, there wasn't much chance of a safe landing.

The approach to the landing zone was in fog, low over the water off Holland, which led to the C-47 tow plane pilot getting lost until a recognizable landmark put them over Brussels. Correcting course, Carney and his troop cargo were finally released over the landing zone and quickly spiraled to a smooth stop near a barn, one wing gently nudging a fence post. Bob grabbed his carbine and became a ground-pounder, aiding some British tankers seeking to engage German Tiger tanks.

Glider pilots, including Carney, had top priority to get a ride back to England, in the event they were needed to make extra supply missions for the airborne troops, so their ground missions generally included guarding prisoners. Bob was in Holland all of three days before being trucked to Belgium and flown back to England.