Douglas Allen Neilson
Photo Collection
Photo Collection
LeAnn (Neilson) Powers
Hello,
I am the daughter of a WWII fighter pilot named Douglas Allen Neilson who was attached to the 82nd Fighter Group. Before she passed away, my mother attended one (or more) of your reunions. Through her, I heard about your organization and have received your newsletters for several years. I read in the last newsletter that you may still be looking for pictures of members of the 82nd. I don't know if you may also be interested in the story of one of those pilots being shot down behind enemy lines, but, if so, I've attached it along with some pictures.
On August 28, 1943, my father was transferred to the Training Center in Grombalia, Tunisia and two days later was assigned to the 95th Fighter Squadron of the 82nd Fighter Group. His station was NATOUSA. He made several local flights, and on September 7th the 82nd Fighter Group completed their move from Grombalia to Maddalena, Sicily. On September 10th, he began flying combat missions. On the morning of September 18th, he flew his 13th mission from the Gerbini Airfield on Sicily. He had flown patrol and dive-bombing missions prior to this, however this was his first staffing mission. His mission was to strafe the landing grounds of #3 Foggia Airfield. One engine was shot by a shell, the other caught a pigeon, however he managed to complete his mission before belly-landing behind enemy lines near the towns of Troia and Lucera, about 4 miles west of Foggia #11. Years ago I completed writing up the experiences he had while trying to reach the Canadian line - which I was told was around 200 miles away. Even though I've edited it down, it's still about nine pages long so I've included it as a Word doc. Feel free to use any, or none of it, in whatever way you may wish.
My brothers and I grew up hearing the stories of my father's experiences during the war. My mother was an archivist by nature, and collected numerous documents and pictures to do with my father's experience, completing 2 large scrapbooks for each of her three children. He passed away at the age of 35 in 1956 due to brain cancer, perhaps caused, my mother was told, by "oxygen school" testing for which he had volunteered. My mother received a life-long pension, and my brothers and I were labeled "war orphans" and received free college tuition.
I have multiple photos you may potentially be interested in. I've attached nine of them. I can send more if you're interested.
I realize that the notations on some of the photos are faint.
1) The 2nd photo, with 3 small pictures on it is labeled,
"'Betsy', an Italian artillery car. Lts. Reid, Strompel, Hymel, Bennet (MIA), Capt. Shrewn (Shrievers) Exec. Ofc., Lts. Keller, Hougland."
2) The 5th photo which contains 2 pictures, one of which is my father looking at his downed plane along with 3 Italians, is labeled "....About 4 months later, he went to revisit the site of his burned plane, after the allies took the territory. The above are from the nearby farmhouse who saw him belly land." The second photo on that page is unidentified. However, it could be Capt. Fisher who, along with my father and a photographer, went on January 31, 1944 to take pictures of the crash site.
3) The 6th one, where my father is standing under a P-38 with another individual is labeled, "Doug, with Phillip Venture, Flight Crew Chief".
4) The 8th one, with 6 small photos taken in Tunisia. The middle right is labeled, "Capt. Shrieves, Lt. Capp, Lt. Hoagland, Lt. Stubbs (Intelligence Ofc.)
5) The 9th, and last one, includes a picture of Bernadetto and Francesca Maresca, the Italians who hid my father from the Germans, as well as the villa in which he was hidden.
Thank you,
LeAnn Powers
Hello,
I am the daughter of a WWII fighter pilot named Douglas Allen Neilson who was attached to the 82nd Fighter Group. Before she passed away, my mother attended one (or more) of your reunions. Through her, I heard about your organization and have received your newsletters for several years. I read in the last newsletter that you may still be looking for pictures of members of the 82nd. I don't know if you may also be interested in the story of one of those pilots being shot down behind enemy lines, but, if so, I've attached it along with some pictures.
On August 28, 1943, my father was transferred to the Training Center in Grombalia, Tunisia and two days later was assigned to the 95th Fighter Squadron of the 82nd Fighter Group. His station was NATOUSA. He made several local flights, and on September 7th the 82nd Fighter Group completed their move from Grombalia to Maddalena, Sicily. On September 10th, he began flying combat missions. On the morning of September 18th, he flew his 13th mission from the Gerbini Airfield on Sicily. He had flown patrol and dive-bombing missions prior to this, however this was his first staffing mission. His mission was to strafe the landing grounds of #3 Foggia Airfield. One engine was shot by a shell, the other caught a pigeon, however he managed to complete his mission before belly-landing behind enemy lines near the towns of Troia and Lucera, about 4 miles west of Foggia #11. Years ago I completed writing up the experiences he had while trying to reach the Canadian line - which I was told was around 200 miles away. Even though I've edited it down, it's still about nine pages long so I've included it as a Word doc. Feel free to use any, or none of it, in whatever way you may wish.
My brothers and I grew up hearing the stories of my father's experiences during the war. My mother was an archivist by nature, and collected numerous documents and pictures to do with my father's experience, completing 2 large scrapbooks for each of her three children. He passed away at the age of 35 in 1956 due to brain cancer, perhaps caused, my mother was told, by "oxygen school" testing for which he had volunteered. My mother received a life-long pension, and my brothers and I were labeled "war orphans" and received free college tuition.
I have multiple photos you may potentially be interested in. I've attached nine of them. I can send more if you're interested.
I realize that the notations on some of the photos are faint.
1) The 2nd photo, with 3 small pictures on it is labeled,
"'Betsy', an Italian artillery car. Lts. Reid, Strompel, Hymel, Bennet (MIA), Capt. Shrewn (Shrievers) Exec. Ofc., Lts. Keller, Hougland."
2) The 5th photo which contains 2 pictures, one of which is my father looking at his downed plane along with 3 Italians, is labeled "....About 4 months later, he went to revisit the site of his burned plane, after the allies took the territory. The above are from the nearby farmhouse who saw him belly land." The second photo on that page is unidentified. However, it could be Capt. Fisher who, along with my father and a photographer, went on January 31, 1944 to take pictures of the crash site.
3) The 6th one, where my father is standing under a P-38 with another individual is labeled, "Doug, with Phillip Venture, Flight Crew Chief".
4) The 8th one, with 6 small photos taken in Tunisia. The middle right is labeled, "Capt. Shrieves, Lt. Capp, Lt. Hoagland, Lt. Stubbs (Intelligence Ofc.)
5) The 9th, and last one, includes a picture of Bernadetto and Francesca Maresca, the Italians who hid my father from the Germans, as well as the villa in which he was hidden.
Thank you,
LeAnn Powers
War time biography written by Lorriainee, Douglas Neilson's wife
On the morning of September 18, 1943, Lorraine awoke and, feeling that something important had happened to Doug that day, she inscribed the date in a tiny flower on her bedroom wallpaper at her parent’s house, where she was living while Doug was overseas. That day, Doug flew from the Gerbini Airfield on Sicily to Italy on his 13th mission. He had flown patrol and dive-bombed, but this was his first strafing mission. The pilots flew 10-20 feet off the water at near top speed in order to avoid radar detection; a maneuver called “on the deck”. His mission was to strafe the landing grounds of #3 Foggia Airfield which was then held by the Axis. Salsola (also known as Schifara, and Foggia satellite #3) was located approximately 10 miles north of Foggia, in Apulia, Italy. While flying at top speed at an altitude of 20 feet, his port engine was hit by a 20-millimeter shell, causing loss of power before he reached his target, however he remained in formation. A few moments later, a pigeon flew up and one was caught in the cooling system of the starboard engine, causing it to overheat and catch on fire. Continuing on course, he completed the mission; succeeding in strafing an enemy bomber on the ground (one report lists it as a JU-88). Immediately after leaving the target, the starboard engine went completely dead. At 250 mph he belly landed, wheels up so his plane wouldn’t flip, in a nearby plowed field within enemy-held territory near the towns of Troia and Lucera, and about 4 miles west of the Foggia #11. Vincenzo Airfield (which was 6 miles southwest of Foggia), where he would later be stationed, stopping just short of a haystack. The Battle Casualty Report of September 11, 1943 stated the crash was “just west of Satellite #3”.
Doug’s formation returned to base, and an official report was typed up. “Capt. Muse led a strafing raid to the Foggia A/Ds, Italy. Lt. Neilson, Lippert and Pollock missing. Pilots returned to Grombalia A/D, Tunisia. Lt. League returned to Squadron after having been picked up by a British warship off Salerno.” Note: A/D is a military abbreviation for airdrome (US)/aerodrome (British), which is a military base. A September headquarters report stated, “On P-38 was observed to make a controlled landing 3 miles S-SW of Latitude 10.” Two other pilots were reported missing in action after that same mission. One returned safely, one day after Doug returned.
His plane by this time was on fire. After destroying the Identification Friend or Foe System in the back of the plane, he jumped down on the wing, threw his orange “Mae West” vest, parachute and helmet into the cockpit of the burning plane, then ran up a hill and hid in the brush.
There was an Italian farmhouse nearby, and Doug watched as peasants, then German soldiers, ran to the plane. However, they couldn’t get near it due to the heat of the fire. The German soldiers went into the farmhouse, after which two of them came out and walked up the hill, thrashing the brush with their rifle butts. They came so close to where he lay that he could see the whites of their eyes, but his one-piece khaki-colored flight suit was the same color as the brush he was hiding in and they didn’t see him. He stayed in hiding for nine hours until night arrived.
Due to an oversight at the before-dawn briefing, Doug had not received a survival kit that morning, so he had no food rations, foreign currency or maps. He had only a bar of chocolate and a tiny Bible with him that was only 1” wide and about 1 ¾ “high. He had purchased the little Bible at the Minnesota State Fair and it contained the four Gospels. The Bible had a little red ribbon at the top which he used to tie the Bible to the zipper of his flight suit. He happened to open it to Matthew 6:25-26, and he later marked the verses; “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” Doug told Lorraine later that he believed the Lord had led him to open to those scriptures and he was confident he would be provided all he needed and be brought safely back to his group, just as he had already escaped death from the anti-aircraft guns, from crash-landing, from fire, from discovery by the Germans.
He laid on the hill in tall brush the color of his uniform for nine hours, watching his plane burn and waiting for night to fall. That night he began walking, staying in the mountains to avoid being seen. He slept in the mountains by day, and walked nights as he had been trained in the use of celestial navigation. As he walked through the hills and mountains of the Apennines, Doug sometimes encountered shepherds. Although they were not able to communicate, they were friendly and shared their food with him; small tomatoes, a coarse bread made once a week, and cheese made from sheep’s milk, called “pecorino”, (‘pecora’ means sheep), and he would drink from the mountain streams. He climbed up and down the foot hills of the Apennine Mountains over the course of his trek, seeing villages in the distance and sheltering during the day in the trees. Lorraine later wrote, “He had escaped death from anti-aircraft guns; from a crash landing; from fire; from being shot or taken prisoner by the Germans. He had learned celestial navigation so he was able to sleep by day and walk under the protection of night.”
Toward twilight one day he thought he saw a mirage, something that was common for pilots who had been shot down. They reported that as they walked for miles toward something they saw in the distance, they would discover upon approaching the site that it disappeared. However, as he got closer, he realized it wasn’t a mirage, and approached a large, stone, country villa before he could take cover. Two Italians in civilian clothes who had been sitting outside came toward him, recognizing him as an American pilot by his flight suit, and excitedly led him toward the house. The couple who owned the house, Benedetto and Francesca Maresca, invited him in. Francesca spoke some English and she and Benedetto had only been married since April 5, 1943. One of them had a brother that had been killed in North Africa. They explained that the two men were officers of the Italian military who had defected. The Marescas had been sheltering them as the officers were waiting for a way to get to the Allied lines. Francesca gave Doug some dinner after which Benedetto located some ragged peasant clothes for his to wear, and then helped Doug bury his flight suit. He kept his dog tags and wedding ring, even his wristwatch, although he was warned that this was a hazard as no Italian peasant would have such an item. If Doug was picked up by the Germans while wearing civilian clothes, there would not have been a trial. He would be shot as a spy.
Benedetto prepared a hiding place for Doug in a small out-building next to the house. It had an alcove about three feet deep and hay was stacked almost to the ceiling in front of the alcove with room enough for him to squeeze behind the hay and enter the alcove. They hid Doug by day, and he would come out at night. Benedetto sent out scouts to contact the underground network who monitored the German positions so he could tell Doug and the two Italian officers when it was safe to begin walking through the mountains to Allied positions. He was taught some Italian words and phrases which could be helpful if needed, and Benedetto invited his to go horseback riding for some relaxation. If strangers approached the villa before he could hide, he was instructed to pretend that he was a deaf and dumb, and Francesca and Benedetto explained his presence as a mentally challenged relative.
After four days, Italian scouts from the Resistance came before dawn to inform Benedetto of the German positions, and he told Doug and the Italian officers that it was safe to leave. Doug had stayed with them for four days and during that short time he had grown very fond of the Marescas. He was awed by their kindness, knowing they were risking their lives by protecting an Allied pilot.
In case they became separated Doug was given 6,000 lira and part of a map of the territory in which they would travel. Periodically along the way they made contact with the Resistance. When they came to a village one of the Italian officers would go down and buy supplies and check on where the enemy lines were. On September 28th, when the three came to the area of Lacedonia, scouts from the resistance told them it was too dangerous for Doug to move on further. He was given a note to take to a farmer who worked with the Resistance, and, alone that night, Doug followed their directions and met up with the man. Hiding Doug in his horse-driven vegetable cart, the farmer drove him for many, jolting miles to an area where he met up again with the two officers. After paying the farmer, the three men continued walking south through the mountains. Doug would bathe in the cold, mountain streams, however, by this time his clothes were infested with lice.
On October 5th, two and one-half weeks after he was shot down, and after traveling nearly 200 miles, they made contact with the patrols of a Canadian regiment in the Eighth Army, the Princess Pat Division; at that time positioned near the ruins of Atella, an ancient city of Campania near Rionero. Walking into the camp, Doug introduced and vouched for the two Italian officers with him.
A memo, labeled “Secret”, dated 5 October 1943, from the “Headquarters 82nd Fighter Group” to the “Commanding General, Northwest African Air Forces”, with subject, “Escape of Officer from Enemy Territory”, states “Submitted herewith is report on escape of 2nd Lieutenant Douglas A. Neilson, 0-749485, 82nd Fighter Group, from Foggia district on 21 September 1943”. Another report states, “He was in the mountains somewhere just east of Roseto Valfortore”.
There was a London Daily Sketch news reporter with the Canadian regiment, who asked Doug what he could do to help him. Doug asked him to send a telegram to Lorraine to tell her that he was alright. So, on October 10th, 1943, Lorraine received a telegram which stated, “Darling, through God’s grace am safe in Canadian hands. No injury suffered. Write later.”
She later received a censored and cut letter, which Doug wrote on October 10th, in which he referred to his “escape”, but he couldn’t tell her anything else. His next letter, written on the 13th, referred to his “unfortunate mishap”, but said no more about it except to quote a hymn “God Moves in a Mysterious Way”. Lorraine deduced that the Lord had done some unusual things for him as he traveled back to his unit. On October 28th, she received a telegram from the War Department stating that Doug was missing in action over Italy since September 18th. When she saw that the date he went missing was much earlier than the telegram she’d received, she knew she needn’t worry. Then, on November 1st, another telegram arrived from the War Department notifying her that Doug had returned to duty safely on October 5th. “The verse ‘Before you call, I will answer’, became very real to me” she wrote.
When he arrived back at the base, two of the pilots carried him on their shoulders throughout the camp shouting, “Neilson’s back!” His buddies, thinking he was either dead or captured, had divvied up some of his gear among themselves, and now returned it all. One brought back pictures of Lorraine, and another brought his shaving kit. When Doug returned to base, he learned that the day he crashed he was also almost killed by “friendly fire”. A pilot in his squadron told him that in the stress of combat he had peeled off from formation, intent on strafing the belly-landed plane that was partially obscured by clouds of dust from the impact. But the pilot’s radio suddenly blared with the flight leader’s voice, “Hold your fire! That’s our buddy!”
Meanwhile, the London Daily Sketch reporter, who had taken Doug’s picture while he was still dressed in Italian peasant clothes, sent it to his paper in England. An American pilot, Lieutenant Wilkie Schanke, who had gone through primary and basic training with Doug, and had graduated from Yuma as a bomber pilot, was now stationed in England. Seeing the photo of Doug, and the short, accompanying article, he sent a copy to his mother Mrs. W.G. Schanke of 2001 Girard Avenue S. in Minneapolis. His mother, wondering why the news hadn’t been sent to the States, called the Minneapolis Daily Times, and sent them the clipping. (Lieutenant Wilkie Schanke was subsequently killed in combat). A local reporter started a search in an attempt to locate Doug’s family. He first went to the courthouse and found Doug’s mother’s address at 3741 Cedar Avenue. Taking a cab there, he questioned someone in a nearby shop and discovered Doug’s mom had moved to Davenport, Iowa, just six weeks previously upon her marriage to Mr. Steele. (Lorraine informed Doug of this in a letter, and he said “You could have struck me down with a feather. I didn’t know that she was married again!”). The further escapades of this intrepid reporter are documented in the below letter Lorraine sent to Doug. She didn’t know that Doug had been shot down, or any of the details of his escape, until she arrived home to be interviewed by the reporter.
November, 1943
To the Sweetest Wife in the world,
I got your letter of the twenty-ninth of last month telling me about that telegram. I can just about see how you reacted. That’s the reason I sent that cable so fast, as I see it did get there before the War Department told you. I could tell you all about the little details of this mishap, honey, but they are so numerous that I’ll wait til I get home to give you the complete story. As you had first guessed it, I was shot down over Italy, but managed to crash land behind enemy lines, then through a series of events, I walked back through the lines. Through the grace of God I received no injury, not even a bruise. It took me about two weeks till I got in touch with the Canadians as I told you in the cable. I was only with them a short while, then worked my way back to my own unit again; so here I am. The wonderful grace of Jesus. (Remember that song?) I tell you Darling, He was very close to me, and I felt His presence believe me.
There it is ‘mio’ (Love). It wasn’t much, but it was kind of exciting. I’ll tell you more later.
Doug
November 23, 1943
Oh Honey, I’m so excited!
The Daily Times just called me at work. I wanted to let the board go until I heard it all. They have a picture of you in peasant garb and a story for tomorrow’s paper. It was so exciting. I can’t remember all of what he said, but he told me about your escape; how you dressed as an Italian peasant and walked through the enemy lines. Wonderful! I can hardly wait to see tomorrow’s paper. The reporter said Mrs. Schanke sent the picture to the Daily Times and said something about her son who is a buddy of yours. He gave me her phone numbers. I’ll call her when I get home tonight. This certainly was an odd way for me to find out about what happened to you. Imagine, the reporter telling me! Usually it’s the other way around.
Evening~ I called Mrs. Schanke. She said her son went through primary and basic training with you (Wilkie Schanke). He graduated from Yuma and is now a bomber pilot in England. He saw the picture of you dressed in peasant clothes in the London Sketch and sent it to him mom. Mrs. Schanke had no idea you had a wife. She called the Times, thinking it would be an interesting story.
The reporter received your address from the Court House files and took a cab there, but not finding your mom, he asked someone in a nearby shop. They said she had moved out of town, but referred him to a good friend of hers, Mrs. Burlingame. The reporter took the cab to her house. Her husband said she was at the doctor’s office, so our reporter is on his way to another place. He found her and put the picture in front of her. “Know this man?” “Why, yes! I’d recognize that smile anywhere. That’s Doug Neilson!” She said, “Tell us all you know about him.” Mrs. Burlingame said, “Get in touch with his wife.” “Wife!” the reporter yelled, “Where is she?” ~ So, after all that he called home, got my telephone number from Mom and called me at work. There’s a story of how a reporter gets his story! He’s coming to see me tonight.
~ He just left, Honey. He showed me your pictures and the brief article about your escape. We went through my scrapbook and he selected also a photograph of you to include with the article. – This is the first I’ve learned of what happened to you since I received the telegrams.
Oh, how I pray for you. I love you, my precious. God keep you safe as He has through it all.
My deepest love to the very dearest hubby in all the world,
Yours only forever, Lorraine
Minneapolis Daily Times
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Wednesday Evening, November 24, 1943
Shot Down in Battle, City Pilot Walks Back Through Nazi Lines
A Minneapolis fighter pilot shot down by Nazi gunfire over Italy on September 18 walked through the enemy lines unmolested when he dressed himself in Italian peasant garb.
The flier is Lieutenant Douglas A. Neilson, 22, formerly of 3741 Cedar Av., whose wife, Lorraine, lives at 4311 Minnehaha Av. Until informed by the Daily Times reporter how her husband escaped unharmed and returned to Allied lines, Mrs. Neilson had no knowledge of his experiences.
Piloting a P-38 Lockheed fighter, Neilson was forced to abandon his plane after a mission over Foggia, Italy. The Minneapolis airman parachuted to safety and from friendly natives obtained peasant clothes. He refused to abandon, however, a wrist watch and a ring given to him by his wife.
Neilson walked unmolested, as an Italian, through the Nazi lines until he contacted a Canadian force with which he joined up. He later returned to his own outfit.
Mrs. Neilson’s first hint of her husband’s experiences came October 10 when she got a cable from him reading: “Darling, through God’s grace am safe in Canadian hands. No injury suffered. Write later.”
Therefore, when she received a telegram from the War Department October 28, stating that he had been missing since September 18 in action over Italy, she noted the discrepancy in dates and was not too alarmed. On November 1 the War Department notified her Neilson had returned to duty safely October 5.
Mrs. Neilson has received several letters from Lieutenant Neilson since his return, two of them this week, but not once has he mentioned how he managed to get back to his outfit unharmed.
On October 26 he completed 20 missions over enemy territory and in one letter this week the airman said he hopes to return to the United States by January 1. He has been awarded the Army Air Medal.
Graduate of Roosevelt High School, Neilson enlisted in the Army Air Corps in April, 1942, was married the following July 11, and on August 3, 1942, became an aviation cadet. He won his wings last April at Williams Field, Arizona, and went overseas in July.
His mother, Mrs. Louise Stele, moved to Davenport, Iowa, just six weeks ago, with a younger son, Bruce, 15. Another brother, Miles [Bud], 20, is a coastguard petty officer serving in the Solomon Islands.
The Evening Star
Washington D.C.
Wednesday December 1, 1943
Downed Yank Flyers in Italy Given up for Lost, Now Rejoining Units after Return from Hiding
By Thomas R. Henry
Somewhere in Italy – Like ghosts arisen out of wooded mountains and Italian peasant villages, men given up for dead for weeks and months are rejoining their outfits one after another as the Allied lines move northward.
They are American flyers who have crashed over enemy territory and hidden out, often with only their cotton summer uniforms, behind enemy lines. In some cases they have been hospitably received and concealed by Italian farmers who have taken the risk of immediate execution both by their own army and the Germans.
The word “Americano” they report, often has had an almost magic effect on these peasants, many of whom have close relatives in the United States. In other cases, however, they have had to depend entirely on their own resources, hiding out in caves in the cracks and living by night raids on fields and orchards. Until quite recently they could live on grapes, oranges and almonds and even with the coming of cold weather, there have been chestnuts and a few late vegetables.
Most in Fair Shape
On the whole the men who come back seem in fair shape after the ordeal. Some had been seen to crash and little hope entertained for their survival. The numbers now showing up leads to the belief that lost US air personnel may have been considerably less than has been estimated. No crashed flyer can be given up for dead unless his actual remains are found. To one air wing here in the past few days 10 men have come back. For most of them hope had been abandoned.
Few details of the escapes can yet be given. Some of the stories are thrillers, but especially when the country through which the men moved remains in enemy hand, they might give hints from which some of those who helped the refugees could be identified. All the men report that their first act when making a crash landing was to set fire to what remained of their planes and to smash the instruments to prevent knowledge of any secret devices falling into German hands.
Was On 13th Mission
[One] who had just returned is Lt. Douglas A. Neilson of Minneapolis. He also disappeared on the Foggia raid on September 18. It was his unlucky 13th mission. His left engine was put out of commission by flak just before the target was reached. At about the same time he ran through a flock of birds, one of which was caught in the cooling system of the right engine. He went on and strafed the field, but immediately afterward the overheated right engine quit on him.
Lt. Neilson crashed his plane into a ploughed field, set his plane on fire to prevent it falling into enemy hands and hid in nearby bushed for the next nine hours. He watched an occasional peasant examining the burning plane. As dark came on he set off across country and dawn found him well up in the mountains. He passed an occasional shepherd. All waved friendly greetings and made no attempt to stop him.
But he was getting hungry and at last got up courage to approach an Italian house, which turned out to be attached to a large estate, where he received an enthusiastic welcome and joined forces with two Italian Alpini officers in civilian clothes – themselves refugees who were trying to get inside the Allied lines. They were real friends indeed, for they insisted on loaning him 6,000 lira for use if he became separated from them. They continued walking through the mountains all one day, spent the night at a peasant hut and in the morning made contact with patrols of a Canadian regiment.
Rohr Aircraft, located in Chula Vista just south of San Diego, called their local paper and gave them this scoop.
Former Welder Walks Through Nazi Lines
A former Rohr welder who became a fighter pilot walked unmolested through enemy lines dressed in Italian peasant clothes. He was shot down by Nazi gunfire over Italy on September 18.
The pilot is Douglas A. Neilson, 22, who started work here in the spring of ’41 and left in September of the same year to become an aviation cadet.
Piloting a P-38 Lockheed fighter, Neilson was forced to abandon his plane after completing a mission over Foggia, Italy. The pilot parachuted to safety and was given peasant clothes by friendly natives.
Taken for an Italian, Neilson walked unmolested through Nazi lines until he contacted a Canadian force. He joined the Canadians but was later able to return to his own outfit.
This story of Neilson’s adventures was obtained from a Minneapolis paper which printed a full account of the pilot’s escape. The slipping was received by one of Neilson’s friends here.
Lt. Neilson’s wife, who resides in Minneapolis, has received several letters from her husband since his return to duty October 5, but not once has he mentioned how he managed to get back to his outfit unharmed.
On Oct. 6, he completed 20 missions over enemy territory, and in one letter the airman said he hopes to return to the United States by Jan. 1. He has been awarded the Army Air Medal.
S E C R E T
Headquarters 82nd Fighter Group, APO, 520
5 October, 1943
SUBJECT: Escape of Officer from Enemy Territory
TO: Commanding General, Northwest African Air Forces, APO 520,
U S Army (Thru Channels). ATT: A-2.
1. Submitted herewith is report on escape of 2nd Lt. Douglas A. Neilson, 0-743485, 82nd Fighter Group, from Foggia district on 21 September, 1943.
David Weld,
Captain, Air Corps,
Asst. Intelligence Officer.
DATE: 18 September, 1943
MISSION: Strafing attack on Foggia airdrome satellite (Lt. Neilson’s 13th mission).
DAMAGE TO PLANE: Left engine was hit and put out of commission by a 20 mm AA shell just before target was reached. Shortly after this hit, the plane ran thru a flock of birds, one of which may have caught in the inner cooler of the right engine. Lt. Neilson strafed the target field and seriously damaged an HE 111 [other records identify the enemy bomber he damaged or destroyed as a JU 88] while flying on his right engine which was heating up fast. The right engine quit shortly after the target.
CRASH-LANDING: With both engines dead, Lt. Neilson pulled flaps and crash-landed his plane in a small ploughed-up flat piece of land in a ravine. This was about ten miles west of the target. The plane caught fire immediately. Lt. Neilson jettisoned the canopy and jumped out with his parachute still on.
EQUIPMENT AND CLOTHING: Lt. Neilson was wearing regulation cottons and immediately removed his insignia. His half-length red Brazialian [sic] boots subsequently stood the walking well, but might have attracted attention if any Germans had spotted them. From the jungle kit in the back of his parachute, he removed the “D” ration and put it in his shirt. Through some error, no purse or escape kit had been issued to Lt. Neilson that morning. He did have a canteen which proved unnecessary because of the many springs of water. He had no pistol.
FIRST STEPS TO ESCAPE: Seeing that his plane was well on fire, Lt. Neilson headed immediately for a hill about two miles away, north of Lucera. He hid in the brush on this hill from 1000 hours to 1900 hours. He could see his plane in the distance, but no one other than peasants came around it. When evening fell, Lt. Neilson set out to the southwest, cross-country. He crossed the Lucera highway without encountering traffic and was well up in the mountains by dawn, somewhere just east of Roseto Valfortore (see Napoli 1:500,000 map). He ate part of his D ration and felt in fairly good shape.
19 SEPTEMBER: Lt. Neilson rested until 1400 hours and then resumed his journey heading south. En route, he met several shepherds who spoke to him; he simply waved a greeting and passed by without speaking. After five miles or so, Lt. Neilson came across an isolated lean-to inhabited by poor peasants – a man, wife, and little girl. They were most friendly when he declared himself an “American”, and gave him both food and shelter.
20-22 SEPTEMBER: The next morning Lt. Neilson set out in the general direction of Salerno as indicated by the peasants. He saw nobody until he reached a well built house with stables, located north of the Avelline-Foggia road, probably near Savignano di Puglia. Approaching the servants’ quarters, he ran into a group of Italian soldiers lounging outside who were heading south to find the British. When Lt. Neilson declared himself an “American”, everybody was most friendly and they sent for the master of the house, Signor Beni Marisco, a well-to-do citizen of Naples who had taken refuge from the bombings in his country estate. Signora Marisco could speak a little broken English. The Mariscos hid Lt. Neilson for three days. He slept in a farm utensil storage room. They gave him civilian clothes and one day he even rode a horse for diversion. The entire family was most hospitable. No Germans appeared during these three days. They listened to the radio news, and the plan at first was to wait until the British captured Foggia. However, on the third evening the two Italian officers, a captain and a lieutenant of an Alpine regiment, dressed in civilian clothes, turned up at the house headed for Potenza.
23 SEPTEMBER: In the morning Lt. Neilson set out with these two Italian officers to reach Allied forces to the south. That night they spent in the mountains with a family of Italian peasants.
24 SEPTEMBER: The three men walked this day until they reached the village of Lacedonia where they ascertained there were many German troops in the hills and along the main road. That night they passed with an Italian family outside the town.
25 SEPTEMBER (Sunday): The trio went into Lacedonia again in the morning, and the Italian officers ascertained from a professor that it was probably safe to continue south. They saw one German officer in the distance in this town. A journey of twelve hours that day across the mountains brought them to Rionero. Here they ran into the Princess Pat Motorized Infantry who put them up for the night in an old castle built by Frederick the Great. At this time Lt. Neilson returned to the Italian officers 6000 lire which they had lent him for emergency use and which he had not utilized.
26 SEPTEMBER TO 5 OCTOBER: The Italian officers left for Bari, while Lt. Neilson was taken to Potenza where he contacted 5th Army patrols and was taken by liaison plane to the 33rd Fighter Group field near Agropoli. He stayed there three days, making unsuccessful efforts to inform the 82nd Fighter Group of his whereabouts. Finally, on 4 October, a B-25 took him to the 321st Bomb Group(M) at Grottaglie where he spent the night. On 5 October, another B-25 flew him over to the 82nd Fighter Gorup base at San Pancrazio.
Note: per Lorraine, Doug told her that there were several mistakes in this report, which explains some of the contradictory information. For instance, the hill where he hid was not “two miles away”, but two minutes away. He saw German soldiers go into the nearby farmhouse, and then come up the hill where he lay. There were also two other reports, one by David Weld of the 82nd Fighter Group, and the other by Robert Fisher of the 95th Fighter Squadron. Doug told Lorraine there were several mistakes in both these reports as well. This was referred to by the men as SNAFU, per Lorraine, “situation normal, all fouled up”.
Flashfoward
After the war, Doug and Lorraine kept in touch with Benedetto and Francesca Maresca, exchanging Christmas cards. In 1968, when Gregg [their son] was 22 years old, he traveled to Israel with the Wheaton College Choir and worked for a time at an archaeological dig at Tekoa. The group was touring sites in Italy on their way back to the States when he decided to go to Foggia by himself in an attempt to locate the Maresca family, and the farm where Doug had been hidden. He was able to locate the villa near Celle di San Vito, (a town in the province of Foggia in central SE Italy), after getting direction from an elderly man at a restaurant in Foggia. Although the Marescas were now living in Chieuti, (a town north of Foggia, Gregg was able to locate them. In addition to the farms they owned, the family also had homes in Naples, Rome, and the family castle. During the war, Benedetto would travel from Naples to the farm at San Vito to see how the farm was doing, while Francesca would stay with family in Naples. To get back to Naples, Benedetto would have to find a way to travel the 150 miles from the Adriatic seat to the Tyrrhenian Sea. Naples was also being bombarded at this time. Benedetto’s other farm was located in the spur of the Italian “boot”.
The Maresca family remembered clearly the twenty-two-year-old pilot whom they had sheltered. When they saw Gregg, they said they felt as if they were seeing Doug again. Gregg took several pictures of the farm and the alcove where Doug had hidden. When Doug came upon this villa in 1943, he didn’t know that he had happened upon a historic landmark. The Maresca family was of noble ancestry, complete with a Family Crest and Coat of Arms. They were quite wealthy, owned commercial property in Rome, and owned additional homes in Naples and Rome, as well as a centuries-old castle. Luigi, one of their sons, was home at the time of Gregg’s visit, having just returned from Yugoslavia, and they were of similar age. Gregg’s appearance brought back vivid memories of Doug for Francesca and she prepared the same meal for him that she had prepared for Doug when he first arrived 25 years earlier. They gave Gregg a picture postcard to send home to Lorraine that was a photo of the Maresca family castle in Serracapriola, a town NE of Foggia. They also took Gregg to visit a second farm they owned.
In 1970, Lorraine went with a tour group to several countries and made special arrangements to meet the Maresca family at their home in Rome. She had reserved a room at a hotel, and Francesca Maresca met her there in her “little toy car.” The Maresca’s palatial home was right in downtown Rome. Francesca stopped her car on a main street in front of a tall, white gate that was so wide it looked almost commercial. It sat right along the face of the street with other building close up beside it. She took Lorraine’s hand and said, “Come on, let’s go!” Francesca still spoke some English, but had lost some of her fluency in subsequent years. So she, and Lorraine, made good use of an Italian-American dictionary that day.
After this visit, Lorraine lost touch with the family. They had moved and her attempts to locate them were unsuccessful. She later learned that Benedetto died in 2000, and Francesca in 2005.
In 2003, a friend of Lorraine’s was able to locate Luigi Maresca through the internet. He, and his wife, Carlotta, had come to the United States many years before, after they had both completed medical school and surgical residencies in Italy. He was as happy as Lorraine was that they had found each other, and invited Lorraine and Tim (her second husband), to his home in Michigan. Lorraine brought him a copy of her scrapbook about Doug, and tears came to his eyes as he looked through it. He said his parents had often told him the “Douglas story”. Luigi then told Lorraine a sequel to the story that had previously been unknown to her. Germans had been informed by a local Italian that the Maresca family was sheltering an allied airman, and intended to arrest them. Almost all of the people who lived in, or near, the Taverna (villa) at Monte San Vito, left and hid in the woods close to the village of Celle di San Vito. Benedetto decided not to run. Francesca, and one of Benedetto’s brothers, stayed with him. However, the Allies were advancing so rapidly that the Germans fled north before they could make the arrests.
Luigi informed Lorraine that Carlo owns both the Maraca family castle as well as the farm that Doug had stayed at. Lorraine gave Luigi a letter, along with a copy of Doug’s escape map, to send to his brother Carlo, in Italy. Carlo responded with some more details of the story. Below is a copy of his letter, complete with its grammatical touches.
Dear Lorraine,
I have received your letter from my brother, and I was immensely happy to hear from you.
I have lived the life of a farmer, so that I could carry on my father’s work. That type of work has allowed me to be close to him for a long time, until his death at the age of 96.
I have spent all my life in the same farm where my father had worked for fifty years.
Since I was a little boy, I have listen to Douglas tell – that is what we called it – many time over. It sounds like a fairy tells, with a happy ending, despite the bad people in it.
Your Christmas whishes makes me revive that story, even if your husband is no longer with us.
I remember many aspects of the story, as told to me by my father many times over:
As soon as Douglas arrived at the family house, in San Vito, my Dad gave him some of his clothes to wear, and he burned his uniform, so that he would not be recognized as a (enemy) soldier. One of the garments that my father gave him was a wool sweater, with my Dad’s initials on it, BM. That stands for Benedetto Maresca, but Douglas thought that stood for Benito Mussolini. Once the misunderstanding was cleared away, everyone had a good laugh.
Another event that I remember had to do with the theft of your husband’s watch: When people were working around the big watering hole, Douglas had taken his watch off and set it on a stone near by. A while later his watch was gone. The working crew was a combination of everyday people, sheppards, farmers, day laborers and teen age boys. My father was called to solve the problem and, even if he did not know who had taken the watch, he got so mad that he was able to instill the fear of God on all of them, and a short time later the stolen object reappeared hanging from a small tree branch.
Many times I have asked my father about the person who reported Douglas to the German troops. He told me that he was an individual from Faeto, a small hamlet near by. After the war he had immigrated to USA.
I was told many times about how the Germans were coming to punish dad for having helped an American Airman flee his captures. The people who told of the Germans coming, also proposed to ambush them to teach them a lesson. My father persuaded them not to do it, for fear of a much bigger reprisal.
All the people who lived in and near by the house left San Vito, and hid in the woods, close to Celle San Vito. Only my father, his brother Giuseppe and my mother stayed there. They set three lounge chairs under some trees in front of the house and waited for the Germans to come. Fortunately the German troops were ordered to fall back, to retreat, so that everything ended well.
I have looked up in a map the route taken by your husband, after he was shot down, to flee capture. He picked a difficult and arduous way, through the woods and at different altitude levels, but safer because less populated/inhabited.
I have read your letter to my father’s younger sisters, Anna and Margherita, who were at San Vito when Douglas arrived. They too remember the watch story; Douglas showing his young bride photograph; the two Italian Officers; and of the big breakfasts they would have. They want to make sure that you have their warmest greetings.
One publish house in the city of Foggia is preparing a book about Capitanata’s farmers. He has asked me to write something about my family and the character and personality of my father. The adventure of your husband during the end of the war is an integral part in describing my dad’s persona. I have started to write something about that subject, but due to other obligations, I haven’t been able to finalize my research. I hope to find time to finish it.
I thank you again for your letter. I am sending you and your children the best Christmas Whishes from all the members of my family.
With sincere fondness,
Carlo
Dec 18, 2005
In the spring of 2009, as Lorraine was assembling photos to include with her ballad, “Escape by Starlight”, she asked for Gregg’s assistance in locating a man in Italy in order to request permission to use his beautiful photo of a sunset over the Apennine Mountains. His name was Tage, and he was a Norwegian residing in Italy who brokered vacation properties for Scandinavian tourists. When Tage was told why the photo was desired, he responded in a surprising way, and offered to take the same journey as Doug had, driving his motorcycle through the mountains, taking photos along the way. Using the map Lorraine sent him upon which Doug had marked where he had been shot down and his route through the mountains, he and his wife set out one weekend in June. Arriving at a field near the point shown on the map, they had dismounted and were looking around, when two men drove by in a car, curious as to why two cyclists were looking at apparently nothing. Learning the couple was searching for a WWII crash site of a P-38, the men astonished them by relaying that they knew exactly where it was. They remembered the wreck from their youth, since the ruined plane had been left there a long time. They gave explicit directions to the site.
After taking several photographs, the couple continued on. Upon entering Celle di San Vito, they happened to meet an elderly woman who knew where the farm was located, and had heard about the pilot who had been sheltered by the Marescas. She brought out a large photo of the Maresca home, a well-known, historical place, called the Taverna, and another large photo of three statues from the Chiesa San Vito, a small, semi-ruined church located on the Maresca property. She gave them directions to the farm as well as the two photographs, requesting that they be sent to Lorraine. When they arrived at the Taverna, two employees of Carlo Maresca showed them around the grounds. Upon their return home, they sent Lorraine the photos they had taken along the way, some of which are included in his blog which chronicles their journey.
The farm is below, and about 5 miles east, of the town of Celle di San Vito - between it and Faeto, in the province of Foggia and the Apulia region of SE Italy, on what Luigi called “Mount San Vito” which stands at 3,000 feet altitude, (Foggia is at sea level). Luigi said that it is about a 45 minute drive from Foggia. Attached to the villa is a church called “Chiesetta di San Vito” (which means Little Church of San Vito); a tall, ancient building with a large, arched doorway. San Vito is approximately 10 miles west of Troia. Doug was said to have crash landed about 4 miles west of the #11 Vincenzo Airdrome. That airdrome lies about 18 miles northwest of San Vito, so it could be that Doug walked between 18-22 miles before he reached the Maresca farm. The Apennine Mountains stand in the background, but are not sharp peaks in this area – more like high hills of 2,000-3,000 feet. The farmhouse is over 200 years old, and has been in the Maresca family the entire time. The property itself goes back to Roman times. Some Roman remnants have been removed and brought to a museum. The Marescas used the farm for a summer residence. The lower part of the home housed some farm workers, and some stables, while the family lived upstairs.
Back to 1943
San Pancrazio Airfield (Appendix 21)
On the day he was shot down, Doug’s unit had been temporarily sent back to Grombalia, Tunisia as there were not enough supplies in Sicily. During the latter part of September, bad weather had given the Allies more trouble than they had with enemy aircraft. Rain, wind and heavy clouds pinned down all by a few bombers, and only 186 sorties were made, and the P-38 fighters dropped only 30 tons of bombs. In addition, bombing accuracy was below normal. On October 1st, while he had been walking back to Allied lines, Foggia had been seized by the Allies. The day he arrived at the Canadian lines, he was informed that as of October 2nd, his unit was now stationed in Italy, at San Pancrazio Airfield, (a new A/D located 4 km northeast of San Pancrazio Salentino on the heel of the boot of the mainland), and he was flown there by Air Transport. Records list him as back with his unit by October 7th. Doug’s P-38 was among 150 of the NAAF’s planes lost up to October 3, 1943.
Doug was sent to a rest camp from October 5-14th, so the October 7th date must have been when they officially recorded him as returned to the unit. He had a poor appetite and insomnia after returning to his base subsequent to being shot down.
Doug’s group found the weather harsh with heavy winds and rain. However, San Pancrazio had a paved runway; the first one that the 82nd FG pilots had encountered since leaving Britain. The stay here was brief, only one week, during which only 8 missions were flown. On one mission, flown on October 4th, P-38s escorted the 321st Bomb Group of B-25s to Greece – the first trip to the Balkans for either unit.
Doug’s formation returned to base, and an official report was typed up. “Capt. Muse led a strafing raid to the Foggia A/Ds, Italy. Lt. Neilson, Lippert and Pollock missing. Pilots returned to Grombalia A/D, Tunisia. Lt. League returned to Squadron after having been picked up by a British warship off Salerno.” Note: A/D is a military abbreviation for airdrome (US)/aerodrome (British), which is a military base. A September headquarters report stated, “On P-38 was observed to make a controlled landing 3 miles S-SW of Latitude 10.” Two other pilots were reported missing in action after that same mission. One returned safely, one day after Doug returned.
His plane by this time was on fire. After destroying the Identification Friend or Foe System in the back of the plane, he jumped down on the wing, threw his orange “Mae West” vest, parachute and helmet into the cockpit of the burning plane, then ran up a hill and hid in the brush.
There was an Italian farmhouse nearby, and Doug watched as peasants, then German soldiers, ran to the plane. However, they couldn’t get near it due to the heat of the fire. The German soldiers went into the farmhouse, after which two of them came out and walked up the hill, thrashing the brush with their rifle butts. They came so close to where he lay that he could see the whites of their eyes, but his one-piece khaki-colored flight suit was the same color as the brush he was hiding in and they didn’t see him. He stayed in hiding for nine hours until night arrived.
Due to an oversight at the before-dawn briefing, Doug had not received a survival kit that morning, so he had no food rations, foreign currency or maps. He had only a bar of chocolate and a tiny Bible with him that was only 1” wide and about 1 ¾ “high. He had purchased the little Bible at the Minnesota State Fair and it contained the four Gospels. The Bible had a little red ribbon at the top which he used to tie the Bible to the zipper of his flight suit. He happened to open it to Matthew 6:25-26, and he later marked the verses; “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” Doug told Lorraine later that he believed the Lord had led him to open to those scriptures and he was confident he would be provided all he needed and be brought safely back to his group, just as he had already escaped death from the anti-aircraft guns, from crash-landing, from fire, from discovery by the Germans.
He laid on the hill in tall brush the color of his uniform for nine hours, watching his plane burn and waiting for night to fall. That night he began walking, staying in the mountains to avoid being seen. He slept in the mountains by day, and walked nights as he had been trained in the use of celestial navigation. As he walked through the hills and mountains of the Apennines, Doug sometimes encountered shepherds. Although they were not able to communicate, they were friendly and shared their food with him; small tomatoes, a coarse bread made once a week, and cheese made from sheep’s milk, called “pecorino”, (‘pecora’ means sheep), and he would drink from the mountain streams. He climbed up and down the foot hills of the Apennine Mountains over the course of his trek, seeing villages in the distance and sheltering during the day in the trees. Lorraine later wrote, “He had escaped death from anti-aircraft guns; from a crash landing; from fire; from being shot or taken prisoner by the Germans. He had learned celestial navigation so he was able to sleep by day and walk under the protection of night.”
Toward twilight one day he thought he saw a mirage, something that was common for pilots who had been shot down. They reported that as they walked for miles toward something they saw in the distance, they would discover upon approaching the site that it disappeared. However, as he got closer, he realized it wasn’t a mirage, and approached a large, stone, country villa before he could take cover. Two Italians in civilian clothes who had been sitting outside came toward him, recognizing him as an American pilot by his flight suit, and excitedly led him toward the house. The couple who owned the house, Benedetto and Francesca Maresca, invited him in. Francesca spoke some English and she and Benedetto had only been married since April 5, 1943. One of them had a brother that had been killed in North Africa. They explained that the two men were officers of the Italian military who had defected. The Marescas had been sheltering them as the officers were waiting for a way to get to the Allied lines. Francesca gave Doug some dinner after which Benedetto located some ragged peasant clothes for his to wear, and then helped Doug bury his flight suit. He kept his dog tags and wedding ring, even his wristwatch, although he was warned that this was a hazard as no Italian peasant would have such an item. If Doug was picked up by the Germans while wearing civilian clothes, there would not have been a trial. He would be shot as a spy.
Benedetto prepared a hiding place for Doug in a small out-building next to the house. It had an alcove about three feet deep and hay was stacked almost to the ceiling in front of the alcove with room enough for him to squeeze behind the hay and enter the alcove. They hid Doug by day, and he would come out at night. Benedetto sent out scouts to contact the underground network who monitored the German positions so he could tell Doug and the two Italian officers when it was safe to begin walking through the mountains to Allied positions. He was taught some Italian words and phrases which could be helpful if needed, and Benedetto invited his to go horseback riding for some relaxation. If strangers approached the villa before he could hide, he was instructed to pretend that he was a deaf and dumb, and Francesca and Benedetto explained his presence as a mentally challenged relative.
After four days, Italian scouts from the Resistance came before dawn to inform Benedetto of the German positions, and he told Doug and the Italian officers that it was safe to leave. Doug had stayed with them for four days and during that short time he had grown very fond of the Marescas. He was awed by their kindness, knowing they were risking their lives by protecting an Allied pilot.
In case they became separated Doug was given 6,000 lira and part of a map of the territory in which they would travel. Periodically along the way they made contact with the Resistance. When they came to a village one of the Italian officers would go down and buy supplies and check on where the enemy lines were. On September 28th, when the three came to the area of Lacedonia, scouts from the resistance told them it was too dangerous for Doug to move on further. He was given a note to take to a farmer who worked with the Resistance, and, alone that night, Doug followed their directions and met up with the man. Hiding Doug in his horse-driven vegetable cart, the farmer drove him for many, jolting miles to an area where he met up again with the two officers. After paying the farmer, the three men continued walking south through the mountains. Doug would bathe in the cold, mountain streams, however, by this time his clothes were infested with lice.
On October 5th, two and one-half weeks after he was shot down, and after traveling nearly 200 miles, they made contact with the patrols of a Canadian regiment in the Eighth Army, the Princess Pat Division; at that time positioned near the ruins of Atella, an ancient city of Campania near Rionero. Walking into the camp, Doug introduced and vouched for the two Italian officers with him.
A memo, labeled “Secret”, dated 5 October 1943, from the “Headquarters 82nd Fighter Group” to the “Commanding General, Northwest African Air Forces”, with subject, “Escape of Officer from Enemy Territory”, states “Submitted herewith is report on escape of 2nd Lieutenant Douglas A. Neilson, 0-749485, 82nd Fighter Group, from Foggia district on 21 September 1943”. Another report states, “He was in the mountains somewhere just east of Roseto Valfortore”.
There was a London Daily Sketch news reporter with the Canadian regiment, who asked Doug what he could do to help him. Doug asked him to send a telegram to Lorraine to tell her that he was alright. So, on October 10th, 1943, Lorraine received a telegram which stated, “Darling, through God’s grace am safe in Canadian hands. No injury suffered. Write later.”
She later received a censored and cut letter, which Doug wrote on October 10th, in which he referred to his “escape”, but he couldn’t tell her anything else. His next letter, written on the 13th, referred to his “unfortunate mishap”, but said no more about it except to quote a hymn “God Moves in a Mysterious Way”. Lorraine deduced that the Lord had done some unusual things for him as he traveled back to his unit. On October 28th, she received a telegram from the War Department stating that Doug was missing in action over Italy since September 18th. When she saw that the date he went missing was much earlier than the telegram she’d received, she knew she needn’t worry. Then, on November 1st, another telegram arrived from the War Department notifying her that Doug had returned to duty safely on October 5th. “The verse ‘Before you call, I will answer’, became very real to me” she wrote.
When he arrived back at the base, two of the pilots carried him on their shoulders throughout the camp shouting, “Neilson’s back!” His buddies, thinking he was either dead or captured, had divvied up some of his gear among themselves, and now returned it all. One brought back pictures of Lorraine, and another brought his shaving kit. When Doug returned to base, he learned that the day he crashed he was also almost killed by “friendly fire”. A pilot in his squadron told him that in the stress of combat he had peeled off from formation, intent on strafing the belly-landed plane that was partially obscured by clouds of dust from the impact. But the pilot’s radio suddenly blared with the flight leader’s voice, “Hold your fire! That’s our buddy!”
Meanwhile, the London Daily Sketch reporter, who had taken Doug’s picture while he was still dressed in Italian peasant clothes, sent it to his paper in England. An American pilot, Lieutenant Wilkie Schanke, who had gone through primary and basic training with Doug, and had graduated from Yuma as a bomber pilot, was now stationed in England. Seeing the photo of Doug, and the short, accompanying article, he sent a copy to his mother Mrs. W.G. Schanke of 2001 Girard Avenue S. in Minneapolis. His mother, wondering why the news hadn’t been sent to the States, called the Minneapolis Daily Times, and sent them the clipping. (Lieutenant Wilkie Schanke was subsequently killed in combat). A local reporter started a search in an attempt to locate Doug’s family. He first went to the courthouse and found Doug’s mother’s address at 3741 Cedar Avenue. Taking a cab there, he questioned someone in a nearby shop and discovered Doug’s mom had moved to Davenport, Iowa, just six weeks previously upon her marriage to Mr. Steele. (Lorraine informed Doug of this in a letter, and he said “You could have struck me down with a feather. I didn’t know that she was married again!”). The further escapades of this intrepid reporter are documented in the below letter Lorraine sent to Doug. She didn’t know that Doug had been shot down, or any of the details of his escape, until she arrived home to be interviewed by the reporter.
November, 1943
To the Sweetest Wife in the world,
I got your letter of the twenty-ninth of last month telling me about that telegram. I can just about see how you reacted. That’s the reason I sent that cable so fast, as I see it did get there before the War Department told you. I could tell you all about the little details of this mishap, honey, but they are so numerous that I’ll wait til I get home to give you the complete story. As you had first guessed it, I was shot down over Italy, but managed to crash land behind enemy lines, then through a series of events, I walked back through the lines. Through the grace of God I received no injury, not even a bruise. It took me about two weeks till I got in touch with the Canadians as I told you in the cable. I was only with them a short while, then worked my way back to my own unit again; so here I am. The wonderful grace of Jesus. (Remember that song?) I tell you Darling, He was very close to me, and I felt His presence believe me.
There it is ‘mio’ (Love). It wasn’t much, but it was kind of exciting. I’ll tell you more later.
Doug
November 23, 1943
Oh Honey, I’m so excited!
The Daily Times just called me at work. I wanted to let the board go until I heard it all. They have a picture of you in peasant garb and a story for tomorrow’s paper. It was so exciting. I can’t remember all of what he said, but he told me about your escape; how you dressed as an Italian peasant and walked through the enemy lines. Wonderful! I can hardly wait to see tomorrow’s paper. The reporter said Mrs. Schanke sent the picture to the Daily Times and said something about her son who is a buddy of yours. He gave me her phone numbers. I’ll call her when I get home tonight. This certainly was an odd way for me to find out about what happened to you. Imagine, the reporter telling me! Usually it’s the other way around.
Evening~ I called Mrs. Schanke. She said her son went through primary and basic training with you (Wilkie Schanke). He graduated from Yuma and is now a bomber pilot in England. He saw the picture of you dressed in peasant clothes in the London Sketch and sent it to him mom. Mrs. Schanke had no idea you had a wife. She called the Times, thinking it would be an interesting story.
The reporter received your address from the Court House files and took a cab there, but not finding your mom, he asked someone in a nearby shop. They said she had moved out of town, but referred him to a good friend of hers, Mrs. Burlingame. The reporter took the cab to her house. Her husband said she was at the doctor’s office, so our reporter is on his way to another place. He found her and put the picture in front of her. “Know this man?” “Why, yes! I’d recognize that smile anywhere. That’s Doug Neilson!” She said, “Tell us all you know about him.” Mrs. Burlingame said, “Get in touch with his wife.” “Wife!” the reporter yelled, “Where is she?” ~ So, after all that he called home, got my telephone number from Mom and called me at work. There’s a story of how a reporter gets his story! He’s coming to see me tonight.
~ He just left, Honey. He showed me your pictures and the brief article about your escape. We went through my scrapbook and he selected also a photograph of you to include with the article. – This is the first I’ve learned of what happened to you since I received the telegrams.
Oh, how I pray for you. I love you, my precious. God keep you safe as He has through it all.
My deepest love to the very dearest hubby in all the world,
Yours only forever, Lorraine
Minneapolis Daily Times
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Wednesday Evening, November 24, 1943
Shot Down in Battle, City Pilot Walks Back Through Nazi Lines
A Minneapolis fighter pilot shot down by Nazi gunfire over Italy on September 18 walked through the enemy lines unmolested when he dressed himself in Italian peasant garb.
The flier is Lieutenant Douglas A. Neilson, 22, formerly of 3741 Cedar Av., whose wife, Lorraine, lives at 4311 Minnehaha Av. Until informed by the Daily Times reporter how her husband escaped unharmed and returned to Allied lines, Mrs. Neilson had no knowledge of his experiences.
Piloting a P-38 Lockheed fighter, Neilson was forced to abandon his plane after a mission over Foggia, Italy. The Minneapolis airman parachuted to safety and from friendly natives obtained peasant clothes. He refused to abandon, however, a wrist watch and a ring given to him by his wife.
Neilson walked unmolested, as an Italian, through the Nazi lines until he contacted a Canadian force with which he joined up. He later returned to his own outfit.
Mrs. Neilson’s first hint of her husband’s experiences came October 10 when she got a cable from him reading: “Darling, through God’s grace am safe in Canadian hands. No injury suffered. Write later.”
Therefore, when she received a telegram from the War Department October 28, stating that he had been missing since September 18 in action over Italy, she noted the discrepancy in dates and was not too alarmed. On November 1 the War Department notified her Neilson had returned to duty safely October 5.
Mrs. Neilson has received several letters from Lieutenant Neilson since his return, two of them this week, but not once has he mentioned how he managed to get back to his outfit unharmed.
On October 26 he completed 20 missions over enemy territory and in one letter this week the airman said he hopes to return to the United States by January 1. He has been awarded the Army Air Medal.
Graduate of Roosevelt High School, Neilson enlisted in the Army Air Corps in April, 1942, was married the following July 11, and on August 3, 1942, became an aviation cadet. He won his wings last April at Williams Field, Arizona, and went overseas in July.
His mother, Mrs. Louise Stele, moved to Davenport, Iowa, just six weeks ago, with a younger son, Bruce, 15. Another brother, Miles [Bud], 20, is a coastguard petty officer serving in the Solomon Islands.
The Evening Star
Washington D.C.
Wednesday December 1, 1943
Downed Yank Flyers in Italy Given up for Lost, Now Rejoining Units after Return from Hiding
By Thomas R. Henry
Somewhere in Italy – Like ghosts arisen out of wooded mountains and Italian peasant villages, men given up for dead for weeks and months are rejoining their outfits one after another as the Allied lines move northward.
They are American flyers who have crashed over enemy territory and hidden out, often with only their cotton summer uniforms, behind enemy lines. In some cases they have been hospitably received and concealed by Italian farmers who have taken the risk of immediate execution both by their own army and the Germans.
The word “Americano” they report, often has had an almost magic effect on these peasants, many of whom have close relatives in the United States. In other cases, however, they have had to depend entirely on their own resources, hiding out in caves in the cracks and living by night raids on fields and orchards. Until quite recently they could live on grapes, oranges and almonds and even with the coming of cold weather, there have been chestnuts and a few late vegetables.
Most in Fair Shape
On the whole the men who come back seem in fair shape after the ordeal. Some had been seen to crash and little hope entertained for their survival. The numbers now showing up leads to the belief that lost US air personnel may have been considerably less than has been estimated. No crashed flyer can be given up for dead unless his actual remains are found. To one air wing here in the past few days 10 men have come back. For most of them hope had been abandoned.
Few details of the escapes can yet be given. Some of the stories are thrillers, but especially when the country through which the men moved remains in enemy hand, they might give hints from which some of those who helped the refugees could be identified. All the men report that their first act when making a crash landing was to set fire to what remained of their planes and to smash the instruments to prevent knowledge of any secret devices falling into German hands.
Was On 13th Mission
[One] who had just returned is Lt. Douglas A. Neilson of Minneapolis. He also disappeared on the Foggia raid on September 18. It was his unlucky 13th mission. His left engine was put out of commission by flak just before the target was reached. At about the same time he ran through a flock of birds, one of which was caught in the cooling system of the right engine. He went on and strafed the field, but immediately afterward the overheated right engine quit on him.
Lt. Neilson crashed his plane into a ploughed field, set his plane on fire to prevent it falling into enemy hands and hid in nearby bushed for the next nine hours. He watched an occasional peasant examining the burning plane. As dark came on he set off across country and dawn found him well up in the mountains. He passed an occasional shepherd. All waved friendly greetings and made no attempt to stop him.
But he was getting hungry and at last got up courage to approach an Italian house, which turned out to be attached to a large estate, where he received an enthusiastic welcome and joined forces with two Italian Alpini officers in civilian clothes – themselves refugees who were trying to get inside the Allied lines. They were real friends indeed, for they insisted on loaning him 6,000 lira for use if he became separated from them. They continued walking through the mountains all one day, spent the night at a peasant hut and in the morning made contact with patrols of a Canadian regiment.
Rohr Aircraft, located in Chula Vista just south of San Diego, called their local paper and gave them this scoop.
Former Welder Walks Through Nazi Lines
A former Rohr welder who became a fighter pilot walked unmolested through enemy lines dressed in Italian peasant clothes. He was shot down by Nazi gunfire over Italy on September 18.
The pilot is Douglas A. Neilson, 22, who started work here in the spring of ’41 and left in September of the same year to become an aviation cadet.
Piloting a P-38 Lockheed fighter, Neilson was forced to abandon his plane after completing a mission over Foggia, Italy. The pilot parachuted to safety and was given peasant clothes by friendly natives.
Taken for an Italian, Neilson walked unmolested through Nazi lines until he contacted a Canadian force. He joined the Canadians but was later able to return to his own outfit.
This story of Neilson’s adventures was obtained from a Minneapolis paper which printed a full account of the pilot’s escape. The slipping was received by one of Neilson’s friends here.
Lt. Neilson’s wife, who resides in Minneapolis, has received several letters from her husband since his return to duty October 5, but not once has he mentioned how he managed to get back to his outfit unharmed.
On Oct. 6, he completed 20 missions over enemy territory, and in one letter the airman said he hopes to return to the United States by Jan. 1. He has been awarded the Army Air Medal.
S E C R E T
Headquarters 82nd Fighter Group, APO, 520
5 October, 1943
SUBJECT: Escape of Officer from Enemy Territory
TO: Commanding General, Northwest African Air Forces, APO 520,
U S Army (Thru Channels). ATT: A-2.
1. Submitted herewith is report on escape of 2nd Lt. Douglas A. Neilson, 0-743485, 82nd Fighter Group, from Foggia district on 21 September, 1943.
David Weld,
Captain, Air Corps,
Asst. Intelligence Officer.
DATE: 18 September, 1943
MISSION: Strafing attack on Foggia airdrome satellite (Lt. Neilson’s 13th mission).
DAMAGE TO PLANE: Left engine was hit and put out of commission by a 20 mm AA shell just before target was reached. Shortly after this hit, the plane ran thru a flock of birds, one of which may have caught in the inner cooler of the right engine. Lt. Neilson strafed the target field and seriously damaged an HE 111 [other records identify the enemy bomber he damaged or destroyed as a JU 88] while flying on his right engine which was heating up fast. The right engine quit shortly after the target.
CRASH-LANDING: With both engines dead, Lt. Neilson pulled flaps and crash-landed his plane in a small ploughed-up flat piece of land in a ravine. This was about ten miles west of the target. The plane caught fire immediately. Lt. Neilson jettisoned the canopy and jumped out with his parachute still on.
EQUIPMENT AND CLOTHING: Lt. Neilson was wearing regulation cottons and immediately removed his insignia. His half-length red Brazialian [sic] boots subsequently stood the walking well, but might have attracted attention if any Germans had spotted them. From the jungle kit in the back of his parachute, he removed the “D” ration and put it in his shirt. Through some error, no purse or escape kit had been issued to Lt. Neilson that morning. He did have a canteen which proved unnecessary because of the many springs of water. He had no pistol.
FIRST STEPS TO ESCAPE: Seeing that his plane was well on fire, Lt. Neilson headed immediately for a hill about two miles away, north of Lucera. He hid in the brush on this hill from 1000 hours to 1900 hours. He could see his plane in the distance, but no one other than peasants came around it. When evening fell, Lt. Neilson set out to the southwest, cross-country. He crossed the Lucera highway without encountering traffic and was well up in the mountains by dawn, somewhere just east of Roseto Valfortore (see Napoli 1:500,000 map). He ate part of his D ration and felt in fairly good shape.
19 SEPTEMBER: Lt. Neilson rested until 1400 hours and then resumed his journey heading south. En route, he met several shepherds who spoke to him; he simply waved a greeting and passed by without speaking. After five miles or so, Lt. Neilson came across an isolated lean-to inhabited by poor peasants – a man, wife, and little girl. They were most friendly when he declared himself an “American”, and gave him both food and shelter.
20-22 SEPTEMBER: The next morning Lt. Neilson set out in the general direction of Salerno as indicated by the peasants. He saw nobody until he reached a well built house with stables, located north of the Avelline-Foggia road, probably near Savignano di Puglia. Approaching the servants’ quarters, he ran into a group of Italian soldiers lounging outside who were heading south to find the British. When Lt. Neilson declared himself an “American”, everybody was most friendly and they sent for the master of the house, Signor Beni Marisco, a well-to-do citizen of Naples who had taken refuge from the bombings in his country estate. Signora Marisco could speak a little broken English. The Mariscos hid Lt. Neilson for three days. He slept in a farm utensil storage room. They gave him civilian clothes and one day he even rode a horse for diversion. The entire family was most hospitable. No Germans appeared during these three days. They listened to the radio news, and the plan at first was to wait until the British captured Foggia. However, on the third evening the two Italian officers, a captain and a lieutenant of an Alpine regiment, dressed in civilian clothes, turned up at the house headed for Potenza.
23 SEPTEMBER: In the morning Lt. Neilson set out with these two Italian officers to reach Allied forces to the south. That night they spent in the mountains with a family of Italian peasants.
24 SEPTEMBER: The three men walked this day until they reached the village of Lacedonia where they ascertained there were many German troops in the hills and along the main road. That night they passed with an Italian family outside the town.
25 SEPTEMBER (Sunday): The trio went into Lacedonia again in the morning, and the Italian officers ascertained from a professor that it was probably safe to continue south. They saw one German officer in the distance in this town. A journey of twelve hours that day across the mountains brought them to Rionero. Here they ran into the Princess Pat Motorized Infantry who put them up for the night in an old castle built by Frederick the Great. At this time Lt. Neilson returned to the Italian officers 6000 lire which they had lent him for emergency use and which he had not utilized.
26 SEPTEMBER TO 5 OCTOBER: The Italian officers left for Bari, while Lt. Neilson was taken to Potenza where he contacted 5th Army patrols and was taken by liaison plane to the 33rd Fighter Group field near Agropoli. He stayed there three days, making unsuccessful efforts to inform the 82nd Fighter Group of his whereabouts. Finally, on 4 October, a B-25 took him to the 321st Bomb Group(M) at Grottaglie where he spent the night. On 5 October, another B-25 flew him over to the 82nd Fighter Gorup base at San Pancrazio.
Note: per Lorraine, Doug told her that there were several mistakes in this report, which explains some of the contradictory information. For instance, the hill where he hid was not “two miles away”, but two minutes away. He saw German soldiers go into the nearby farmhouse, and then come up the hill where he lay. There were also two other reports, one by David Weld of the 82nd Fighter Group, and the other by Robert Fisher of the 95th Fighter Squadron. Doug told Lorraine there were several mistakes in both these reports as well. This was referred to by the men as SNAFU, per Lorraine, “situation normal, all fouled up”.
Flashfoward
After the war, Doug and Lorraine kept in touch with Benedetto and Francesca Maresca, exchanging Christmas cards. In 1968, when Gregg [their son] was 22 years old, he traveled to Israel with the Wheaton College Choir and worked for a time at an archaeological dig at Tekoa. The group was touring sites in Italy on their way back to the States when he decided to go to Foggia by himself in an attempt to locate the Maresca family, and the farm where Doug had been hidden. He was able to locate the villa near Celle di San Vito, (a town in the province of Foggia in central SE Italy), after getting direction from an elderly man at a restaurant in Foggia. Although the Marescas were now living in Chieuti, (a town north of Foggia, Gregg was able to locate them. In addition to the farms they owned, the family also had homes in Naples, Rome, and the family castle. During the war, Benedetto would travel from Naples to the farm at San Vito to see how the farm was doing, while Francesca would stay with family in Naples. To get back to Naples, Benedetto would have to find a way to travel the 150 miles from the Adriatic seat to the Tyrrhenian Sea. Naples was also being bombarded at this time. Benedetto’s other farm was located in the spur of the Italian “boot”.
The Maresca family remembered clearly the twenty-two-year-old pilot whom they had sheltered. When they saw Gregg, they said they felt as if they were seeing Doug again. Gregg took several pictures of the farm and the alcove where Doug had hidden. When Doug came upon this villa in 1943, he didn’t know that he had happened upon a historic landmark. The Maresca family was of noble ancestry, complete with a Family Crest and Coat of Arms. They were quite wealthy, owned commercial property in Rome, and owned additional homes in Naples and Rome, as well as a centuries-old castle. Luigi, one of their sons, was home at the time of Gregg’s visit, having just returned from Yugoslavia, and they were of similar age. Gregg’s appearance brought back vivid memories of Doug for Francesca and she prepared the same meal for him that she had prepared for Doug when he first arrived 25 years earlier. They gave Gregg a picture postcard to send home to Lorraine that was a photo of the Maresca family castle in Serracapriola, a town NE of Foggia. They also took Gregg to visit a second farm they owned.
In 1970, Lorraine went with a tour group to several countries and made special arrangements to meet the Maresca family at their home in Rome. She had reserved a room at a hotel, and Francesca Maresca met her there in her “little toy car.” The Maresca’s palatial home was right in downtown Rome. Francesca stopped her car on a main street in front of a tall, white gate that was so wide it looked almost commercial. It sat right along the face of the street with other building close up beside it. She took Lorraine’s hand and said, “Come on, let’s go!” Francesca still spoke some English, but had lost some of her fluency in subsequent years. So she, and Lorraine, made good use of an Italian-American dictionary that day.
After this visit, Lorraine lost touch with the family. They had moved and her attempts to locate them were unsuccessful. She later learned that Benedetto died in 2000, and Francesca in 2005.
In 2003, a friend of Lorraine’s was able to locate Luigi Maresca through the internet. He, and his wife, Carlotta, had come to the United States many years before, after they had both completed medical school and surgical residencies in Italy. He was as happy as Lorraine was that they had found each other, and invited Lorraine and Tim (her second husband), to his home in Michigan. Lorraine brought him a copy of her scrapbook about Doug, and tears came to his eyes as he looked through it. He said his parents had often told him the “Douglas story”. Luigi then told Lorraine a sequel to the story that had previously been unknown to her. Germans had been informed by a local Italian that the Maresca family was sheltering an allied airman, and intended to arrest them. Almost all of the people who lived in, or near, the Taverna (villa) at Monte San Vito, left and hid in the woods close to the village of Celle di San Vito. Benedetto decided not to run. Francesca, and one of Benedetto’s brothers, stayed with him. However, the Allies were advancing so rapidly that the Germans fled north before they could make the arrests.
Luigi informed Lorraine that Carlo owns both the Maraca family castle as well as the farm that Doug had stayed at. Lorraine gave Luigi a letter, along with a copy of Doug’s escape map, to send to his brother Carlo, in Italy. Carlo responded with some more details of the story. Below is a copy of his letter, complete with its grammatical touches.
Dear Lorraine,
I have received your letter from my brother, and I was immensely happy to hear from you.
I have lived the life of a farmer, so that I could carry on my father’s work. That type of work has allowed me to be close to him for a long time, until his death at the age of 96.
I have spent all my life in the same farm where my father had worked for fifty years.
Since I was a little boy, I have listen to Douglas tell – that is what we called it – many time over. It sounds like a fairy tells, with a happy ending, despite the bad people in it.
Your Christmas whishes makes me revive that story, even if your husband is no longer with us.
I remember many aspects of the story, as told to me by my father many times over:
As soon as Douglas arrived at the family house, in San Vito, my Dad gave him some of his clothes to wear, and he burned his uniform, so that he would not be recognized as a (enemy) soldier. One of the garments that my father gave him was a wool sweater, with my Dad’s initials on it, BM. That stands for Benedetto Maresca, but Douglas thought that stood for Benito Mussolini. Once the misunderstanding was cleared away, everyone had a good laugh.
Another event that I remember had to do with the theft of your husband’s watch: When people were working around the big watering hole, Douglas had taken his watch off and set it on a stone near by. A while later his watch was gone. The working crew was a combination of everyday people, sheppards, farmers, day laborers and teen age boys. My father was called to solve the problem and, even if he did not know who had taken the watch, he got so mad that he was able to instill the fear of God on all of them, and a short time later the stolen object reappeared hanging from a small tree branch.
Many times I have asked my father about the person who reported Douglas to the German troops. He told me that he was an individual from Faeto, a small hamlet near by. After the war he had immigrated to USA.
I was told many times about how the Germans were coming to punish dad for having helped an American Airman flee his captures. The people who told of the Germans coming, also proposed to ambush them to teach them a lesson. My father persuaded them not to do it, for fear of a much bigger reprisal.
All the people who lived in and near by the house left San Vito, and hid in the woods, close to Celle San Vito. Only my father, his brother Giuseppe and my mother stayed there. They set three lounge chairs under some trees in front of the house and waited for the Germans to come. Fortunately the German troops were ordered to fall back, to retreat, so that everything ended well.
I have looked up in a map the route taken by your husband, after he was shot down, to flee capture. He picked a difficult and arduous way, through the woods and at different altitude levels, but safer because less populated/inhabited.
I have read your letter to my father’s younger sisters, Anna and Margherita, who were at San Vito when Douglas arrived. They too remember the watch story; Douglas showing his young bride photograph; the two Italian Officers; and of the big breakfasts they would have. They want to make sure that you have their warmest greetings.
One publish house in the city of Foggia is preparing a book about Capitanata’s farmers. He has asked me to write something about my family and the character and personality of my father. The adventure of your husband during the end of the war is an integral part in describing my dad’s persona. I have started to write something about that subject, but due to other obligations, I haven’t been able to finalize my research. I hope to find time to finish it.
I thank you again for your letter. I am sending you and your children the best Christmas Whishes from all the members of my family.
With sincere fondness,
Carlo
Dec 18, 2005
In the spring of 2009, as Lorraine was assembling photos to include with her ballad, “Escape by Starlight”, she asked for Gregg’s assistance in locating a man in Italy in order to request permission to use his beautiful photo of a sunset over the Apennine Mountains. His name was Tage, and he was a Norwegian residing in Italy who brokered vacation properties for Scandinavian tourists. When Tage was told why the photo was desired, he responded in a surprising way, and offered to take the same journey as Doug had, driving his motorcycle through the mountains, taking photos along the way. Using the map Lorraine sent him upon which Doug had marked where he had been shot down and his route through the mountains, he and his wife set out one weekend in June. Arriving at a field near the point shown on the map, they had dismounted and were looking around, when two men drove by in a car, curious as to why two cyclists were looking at apparently nothing. Learning the couple was searching for a WWII crash site of a P-38, the men astonished them by relaying that they knew exactly where it was. They remembered the wreck from their youth, since the ruined plane had been left there a long time. They gave explicit directions to the site.
After taking several photographs, the couple continued on. Upon entering Celle di San Vito, they happened to meet an elderly woman who knew where the farm was located, and had heard about the pilot who had been sheltered by the Marescas. She brought out a large photo of the Maresca home, a well-known, historical place, called the Taverna, and another large photo of three statues from the Chiesa San Vito, a small, semi-ruined church located on the Maresca property. She gave them directions to the farm as well as the two photographs, requesting that they be sent to Lorraine. When they arrived at the Taverna, two employees of Carlo Maresca showed them around the grounds. Upon their return home, they sent Lorraine the photos they had taken along the way, some of which are included in his blog which chronicles their journey.
The farm is below, and about 5 miles east, of the town of Celle di San Vito - between it and Faeto, in the province of Foggia and the Apulia region of SE Italy, on what Luigi called “Mount San Vito” which stands at 3,000 feet altitude, (Foggia is at sea level). Luigi said that it is about a 45 minute drive from Foggia. Attached to the villa is a church called “Chiesetta di San Vito” (which means Little Church of San Vito); a tall, ancient building with a large, arched doorway. San Vito is approximately 10 miles west of Troia. Doug was said to have crash landed about 4 miles west of the #11 Vincenzo Airdrome. That airdrome lies about 18 miles northwest of San Vito, so it could be that Doug walked between 18-22 miles before he reached the Maresca farm. The Apennine Mountains stand in the background, but are not sharp peaks in this area – more like high hills of 2,000-3,000 feet. The farmhouse is over 200 years old, and has been in the Maresca family the entire time. The property itself goes back to Roman times. Some Roman remnants have been removed and brought to a museum. The Marescas used the farm for a summer residence. The lower part of the home housed some farm workers, and some stables, while the family lived upstairs.
Back to 1943
San Pancrazio Airfield (Appendix 21)
On the day he was shot down, Doug’s unit had been temporarily sent back to Grombalia, Tunisia as there were not enough supplies in Sicily. During the latter part of September, bad weather had given the Allies more trouble than they had with enemy aircraft. Rain, wind and heavy clouds pinned down all by a few bombers, and only 186 sorties were made, and the P-38 fighters dropped only 30 tons of bombs. In addition, bombing accuracy was below normal. On October 1st, while he had been walking back to Allied lines, Foggia had been seized by the Allies. The day he arrived at the Canadian lines, he was informed that as of October 2nd, his unit was now stationed in Italy, at San Pancrazio Airfield, (a new A/D located 4 km northeast of San Pancrazio Salentino on the heel of the boot of the mainland), and he was flown there by Air Transport. Records list him as back with his unit by October 7th. Doug’s P-38 was among 150 of the NAAF’s planes lost up to October 3, 1943.
Doug was sent to a rest camp from October 5-14th, so the October 7th date must have been when they officially recorded him as returned to the unit. He had a poor appetite and insomnia after returning to his base subsequent to being shot down.
Doug’s group found the weather harsh with heavy winds and rain. However, San Pancrazio had a paved runway; the first one that the 82nd FG pilots had encountered since leaving Britain. The stay here was brief, only one week, during which only 8 missions were flown. On one mission, flown on October 4th, P-38s escorted the 321st Bomb Group of B-25s to Greece – the first trip to the Balkans for either unit.