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Georgio Italiano

by Harry D. George

243 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #00-0204; ISBN 1-55212-538-6; US$25.00, C$27.50, EUR20.50, £14.50

A dying American WWII vet tells his story to his son during his final months - his story of becoming a pilot, of flying overseas and entering combat, of being shot down, of going from cockpit to caveman, and of being on the run for 78 days behind German lines north of Florence in Tuscany in 1944, of finally being liberated by American troops - and of joyously arriving home and being reunited with his wife on their Fifth Wedding Anniversary.

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about the book      about the author      sample excerpt      catalogue info

About the Book Young and in love and heading off to war with pilot's wings and heroes dreams, then shot down and on the run for 78 days in the mountains north of Florence - from cockpit to caveman, from hunter to hunted - until three noble and brave Italian men and their families provide food and friendship - a real sense of home until American troops arrive. Get to know the pilot and his wife through his letters home from training, from the journey overseas, and from the base on Corsica. Listen to his wartime tale of terror and joy - as told to his son in his final months, as he was dying. Learn about Catch-23, this pilot's rebuttal to the ealier book which mocked and satirized the service of those who were stationed on Corsica and flew B-25's over Italy and France. It's a story you won't soon forget!

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About the Author Harry D. George Harry D. George (1918-1990) was born and raised in Coatesville, PA. Mr. George worked for Lukens Steel Co. prior to and after WWII, becoming Superintendent of Lukenweld, a subsidiary specializing in fabrication. Thereafter, he joined International Mill Services, a slag-processing firm with operations in the U.S., Canada, Mexico, Venezuela, and Brazil where he was Vice President of Operations and subsequently, Vice President of Research. He retired in 1973 at the age of 55. Thereafter, he consulted internationally. Harry D. George, Jr. Harry D. George, Jr. (1949- ) was raised in Parkesburg, PA, attended the University of Pennsylvania, and the Washington College of Law at American University. He practiced corporate law for 23 years and, in 1998, took a mid-life sabbatical to pursue interests in writing and marine photography. He lives in the Chicago area.

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Sample Excerpt

There I was at 10,000 feet over Italy...

This was the opening line I had heard so many times in my life. I thought I was prepared for what was coming next - one of my father' s standard behind-the-lines stories. It wasn' t. This time, he recounted what happened on June 22, 1944 when he was shot down. I was soon on the edge of my seat.

We were bombing a railroad bridge at Gricigliana (Gri-chil-yana) on the main rail line running south from Bologna to Florence.

That bridge was a tough target -- a short, single-track bridge nestled in a very narrow valley between two steep mountains. It was a crucial target. That rail line was the main supply line for the German troops to the south. For much of its length, it was protected by tunnels. Flat stretches of track are more easily hit, but they are also more easily and quickly repaired. Taking out the bridge at Gricigliana would disrupt German re-supply efforts for some time. That, in turn, was crucial to winning the battle on the ground at the front just north of Rome. That was our job - blowing up road bridges, railroad bridges, and marshaling yards to keep the German re-supply efforts paralyzed.

That afternoon found us gathered around our plane, 7C, a B-25 named McKinley Junior High. It was named in honor of the junior high school in Muncie, Indiana that had raised the $250,000 needed to finance it by selling war bonds. It was a brand new B-25J which had just arrived in combat not more than a month before. It was still unpainted.

All seemed a little quieter than normal before a mission. We had just come from the briefing and the briefing officer had not painted a very rosy picture of what was in store for us. The target was protected by twelve batteries of German eighty-eight millimeter guns. The 340th Bomb Group, my Group, had tried to destroy this bridge on three previous occasions the last of which had been just a few hours before. All three attempts met with disastrous results - a lot of planes shot up and damaged by flak - yet the bridge remained intact.

As a result of our misses, the Germans also knew our attack pattern and altitude -- from the west at 10,000 feet.

I was flying with another crew, replacing their regular co-pilot who was ill with some sort of crud. I was a floater - filling in wherever I was needed. Tom Casey was the pilot. I'd never flown with Casey before. We were together the day before on the alternate plane, but didn' t fly the mission. I only knew Casey through Ed Dombrowski, the bombardier on Casey' s crew and a drinking buddy of mine from our training days in South Carolina. Casey was good and thorough and had Ed' s trust. That was enough for me.

"Let's go, fellows, there's the signal from the tower," I said.

We crawled into the plane and I started the engines. We taxied onto the runway and took our position in the line. We took off from Alesan, Corsica around 6:30 PM. After the formation had been assembled, we headed northeast. The day was ideal. The Mediterranean was spread out before us like a carpet of blue velvet. It seemed hard to realize that we were on a mission of destruction and that before long, man would be pitted against man with two of his deadliest instruments of hate: thousand-pound bombs and anti-aircraft guns and their flak.

We were in the second of two boxes from the 487th Squadron. The 310th Group also had three boxes of six planes right ahead of us -- 30 planes total on the mission. We approached the target at about 7:15 PM.

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Catalogue Information

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