| n the military, especially nowadays, we are forced to learn how to deal with death. It’s not uncommon for a Soldier to know someone who was killed in battle or at least have a close friend who knew someone killed in battle. War is an ugly thing, but we find ways to cope. Somehow it gets easy and death almost becomes acceptable and expected. It numbs us. What it doesn’t teach us to deal with is the death of a loved one. For the first time in memory, I lost someone that I really cared about who meant a lot to me - my Grandfather. He had a huge impact on me growing up and I wasn’t even his biological grandson. My mother married my stepfather when I was about two years old and he raised me. I grew up around his family and they quickly became mine. I wasn’t a step-anything to my new family. My grandfather was a WWII veteran, one of the estimated 1500 this country is losing every day. He fought in the European campaign with a flight crew affectionately named “Butler’s Bums”. This is their story - and that of the hero I call Grandpa. Everyone else called him Jim (James A. Stuthers, Sr.) 
Patch of the 18th Bomber Squadron The Butler’s Bums were named after the pilot of the B-17 aircrew, 1st LT Bob Butler. The Bums were part of the 18th Bomber Squadron, 34th Bomber Group, of the mighty 8th Air Force. My grandfather served from September 13, 1943 to November 2, 1945. He flew 25 missions over Germany with varying degrees of success and danger. The story of the Butler’s Bums has never been told so there is no research available to tell this story. I can only tell it through the perspective of my grandpa’s journal and photos. He was trained to crew a B-24 Liberator bomber, a four engined American heavy bomber that was produced in greater numbers than any other American combat aircraft during World War II and still holds the record as the most produced US aircraft. More than 18,000 bombers were built during WWII, but only 15 are known to exist today, only half of those air worthy. He was assigned as a Togglier and Armorer Gunner on the ship. The road to Germany was a long one. On November 9, 1944 at 2030 the crew of Butler’s Bums left Chatham Field on Fort Stewart outside of Savannah, GA where the 34th Bomber Group was based and headed north to Mitchel Field, New York. Six days later they loaded onto their brand new B-24J and headed north to Grenier Field, New Hampshire. On November 18, they left their point of embarkation and traveled to Goose Bay, Labrador in northeastern Canada. The next day they were in Iceland. On the 20th, Tech Sergeant Stuthers gazed at the northern lights of Iceland before departing for what he called the “large iceberg” of Greenland. Two days later, they’d be in Wales. In Wales, they downloaded their personal equipment and loaded onto a train for a “beautiful ride down the coast” en route to Stone AAF near Stokes, Wales. I’m not sure where Stokes is since I can’t find it on any Wales map. For that matter, I can’t find Stone AAF. Both may have been renamed. What I do know is that he had his first “limey beer” in the town and left by train three days later. At 1500 on November 27, 1944, their train pulled into the station where they had to take a truck about 14 miles to their new base, Mendlesham, commanded by Colonel Creer (other noted high ranking officers included Lt.Col. Le Bailley, Maj. Duke, Maj. Gay, and Maj. Crabtree). It was at this point that my grandpa noticed the new B-17 Flying Fortresses. Even though they had been trained to crew the B-24, everyone was happy to see that they’d be flying on the B-17. My grandpa noted in his journal that it was “plenty O.K.” by him to switch planes. For the next two weeks, the crew trained on the new aircraft. My grandpa was trained to be the plane’s togglier and nose, chin turret gunner. The crew was given training and attended classes in weather, theory of bombing, bomb racks, bomb patterns, fuzing, auto-pilot functions, P.O.I. centering of stabilizer with two bombardiers. The training was intense and at times dry and technical, but the crew worked hard knowing that every bit of their knowledge was going to tested over enemy terrain. On January 13, 1945, the Butler’s Bums went operational. The crew consisted of Robert H. Butler-pilot (died 10/26/1987), Delbert “Roy” L. Reynolds-Co-pilot (died 09/1980), Richard “Dick” F. Scully, Dante Schifani (died 06/1983), Martin Kallinen (died 1978), James “Jim” A. Stuthers (died 07/09/2007 - he would have been 82 tomorrow), William “Bill” E. Swords (died 03/28/1999), Joseph “Joe” P. Remy (died 01/06/2004) and Edward “Ed” J. Renowden (died 09/13/2003). Their first mission was executed the following day, January 14, 1945. Payload: 12x 500 lb bombs. Target: Derben, Germany, near Berlin. It wasn’t a first impression anyone would hope for. During the mission, 2 B-17s were shot ahead of the Bums. The two planes from 7th Squadron lost 2-3 feet off their right wing tips from direct hits. No chutes indicated that both crews were killed. The flak from Cukhaven below was heavy and accurate, but seemed to ease up over the target. Amazingly, the Butler’s Bums sustained no hole or damage during the mission. However, the bomb bay doors froze tightly shut and the crew returned with a full compliment of bombs. The next mission took place the following day. Payload: 12x 500lb bombs. Target: Augsburg, Germany. It was a long mission with no activity, no damage and only meager flak in the sky. The next few missions were also uneventful: a small town on the Rhein River, Duisberg, Koblenz, Kassel, Dulmen, and Berlin. On Valentine’s Day, 1945, the crew performed a mission over Chemnitz, Germany. During the flight, the plane blew the No. 4 cylinder and was required to abort. Nuts, bolts and scrap metal fell to the ground as the crew opened up the cowling back at base. Grandpa helped to navigate the crew from known flack over Amsterdam. Three days later the plane was fixed and the crew was briefed to expect heavy flak. The target was Frankfurt. As is typical with most intelligence, the brief ended up being false. No flak whatsoever was observed, the crew dropped their payload of ten 500 lb bombs on Frankfurt and observed the smoke from their actions spew thousands of feet into the air. It was a “good hit”. Part II will come later. What a lot of people don’t realize is that these flights were extremely uncomfortable. The B-17 flew between 20,000 and 30,000 feet. At that altitude, the temperatures were easily -30s. Crews wore multiple layers to keep warm as the planes were not pressurized. To ensure that everyone was alert, the crews were constantly chatting with each other. Oxygen was practically nonexistent and it was imperative that constant communication was maintained in case someone’s oxygen mask clogged up or became inoperable. When someone began to speak incoherently, it was a safe bet that the oxygen mask had frozen up somewhere and was restricting the flow of oxygen. Crewmembers were required to wear gloves to prevent frost bite when handling the heavy waste guns. Often times, the crew would be surprised by German fighters and grab the guns without taking the time to put their heavy gloves on. The results were akin to licking a flagpole in the winter on a snowy day. Add to all of that the constant turbulence created by the close formations the squadrons flew in on missions. The ride was bumpy and uncomfortable. There were no seats in the back of the plane for most crewmembers during the flight while they manned their guns. They huddled together on the cold floors to keep warm. Yet, through all of this adversity, the Mighty Eighth never once abandoned a mission. The crews flew on courageously knowing that they may never come home. Many did not. My grandfather was a good man and kept meticulous records. Without his journal, I’d never know of the bravery and sacrifices he made as a young man. I never would have known about Butler’s Bums. On the way home from his funeral, I stopped at the 8th Air Force museum in Savannah, GA (just off I-95). The 18th Bomber Squadron had one small display case with no mention of their missions or the Bums themselves. If you’re ever in Savannah, however, the exhibits can’t be beat. There’s a cool simulator that puts you in the shoes of a waste gunner as you attempt to shoot down German fighter planes menacing your formation and threatening to shoot you down. |
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