My grandfather was a remarkable man for many reasons … his World War II experience among them. He was trained as a spy, shot down over Axis territory and held as a prisoner of war in Nazi Germany. He died when I was in high school, from kidney failure as a result of drugs he had had to take the rest of his life from his war injuries.
In recent years as I’ve tried to tell the story I’ve realized I didn’t know a lot of the details: what country was he shot down under? Was he liberated or did he repatriated during the war as part of a prisoner exchange? Was he ever in a POW camp, or a hospital? So a few weeks ago I asked my father to write the story as a post for my blog. Here it is, with a couple of edits from myself.
Derek:
You asked me to tell you a bit about Grandpa’s experiences in World War II. I’ve got to do this from memory because all the papers are buried in the garage right now, in storage. This will be without much detail because of that, but I’ll do the best I can.
Grandpa — Mario “Marty” Rose
As a young man growing up in New Bedford, Mass., Grandpa had gone to visit his parents’ homeland, the Cape Verde islands. It was in 1937. I have a video tape of the silent movies he took of that visit. [Those movies are believed to be the first-ever film taken of the archipelago 300 miles west of Senegal and are still shown today. -dmr] It may have been those movies and that trip that caused him to be recruited by the fledgling OSS (which eventually became the CIA.) They wanted to get him prepared to be posted to the Cape Verde islands as a spy.
Grandpa went to New York City for training. There he learned the basics of sending coded messages. (see post cards at left) He learned Morse Code and had a practice key that I used to play with. He learned some other ways to incorporate hidden messages into regular correspondence. One of the techniques was something that he used later to get information past the censors when he wrote letters home to Grandma.
When he used Dearest: (I think that was the code word) in a letter, other than the greeting, she’d take the first letter of the 7th word after “Dearest” and then the first letter of the 14th word and so forth, to get a message.
I don’t know why, but he never did anything more than that OSS training. I suppose there’s a file somewhere in the OSS records that might answer that question.
He eventually joined the Army Air Corps. Why, I don’t know. I do know — and I have a video of an interview with him on this subject – that when he joined they lined up all the recruits and asked the “colored men” to take a step forward. The military was segregated at the time. Grandpa said later he thought to himself, “If they can’t tell a white man from a black man, I’m going to stand right here.” So he did and served with a white unit in the 8th Air Corps.
He went to Florida for some basic training and became a waist gunner on a B-17.
He was raised in rank to a sergeant, he told me, because the German pilots were sergeants and our military figured any of our flyers taken as prisoners would be better treated if they were seen as the equivalent of the German pilots.
The waist gunner was there for defense of the aircraft. There were two waist gunner stations on the sides of the fuselage behind the wing of the B-17. Those were open windows each with a .50 caliber machine gun. Everything I read says there were two waist gunners on B-17s but Grandpa said there was only one on his aircraft. They would be flying in formation; one side would have more protection from the neighboring plane. He’d move from one machine gun to the other depending where the fighters were.
Obviously the position was not well protected and the open window meant it was cold. They generally flew so high they needed oxygen masks. The other gunners’ positions were better protected. The gunners bodies were less exposed and they had Plexiglas windows to protect them from the harsh cold air stream. Later in the war, the waist gunner got a permanent Plexiglas window mounted around the machine gun to provided constant protection from the air stream, but Grandpa had to fight through the open window. He never told me if he shot down any fighters. It wasn’t something that he really wanted to talk about a great deal.
Grandpa also armed the bombs. I’m not sure if that was a standard role for all waist gunners, but it was something Grandpa did. The bombs were loaded on the aircraft into the bomb bay with a safety pin in place. The bomb fuse had a little propeller which would spin in the air as the bomb fell. After a certain number of turns the bomb would be armed. The delay meant the bomb wasn’t armed while it was close to the aircraft. So, someone had to go into the bomb bay after the plane had taken off and arm the bombs. Arming the bombs consisted of pulling a cloth strip attached to the safety pin from the fuse. At the end of each mission the safety pins would be turned in as proof the bombs had been armed when the left the plane.
The bomb bay was between the wings and just forward of the waist gunner location and since the waist gunner didn’t have anything to do until the aircraft was under attack it makes sense that they could do the job or armorer.
Grandpa was based in England and flew missions over Germany and France. Flight crews had a set number of missions for a tour and if they completed those missions they rotated out. Grandpa, like many of the airmen of the time, never completed his tour.
On a mission over Germany, Grandpa was shot down. They were under attack and the B-17 was damaged. Grandpa believed that a German fighter crashed into the B-17 when its pilot was killed by fire from another gunner on his plane.
Grandpa doesn’t remember jumping out of his plane and believes he was blown out by an explosion. He remembers falling through the air and pulling the rip cord on his parachute then passing out.
His ankles were broken, either in the explosion or when he hit the ground. He landed in a field, was captured by German civilians with pitchforks, and turned over to solders. They took him to a prisoner of war hospital where he was treated by a French doctor who was also a prisoner of war. Grandpa was worried that his legs would be amputated because he had heard the Germans preferred to amputate limbs because it was easier to care for an amputee. I remember Grandpa saying he talked to the doctor, using his Creole Portuguese (Crioulo). Both his legs were put in casts. I don’t know when he had the pins and screws put into his ankles, but he did have a frame and screws to hold the bones in place at some time in his treatment and recovery.
I know at some point he was moved with other injured POWs through a city in an ambulance while an air raid was happening. He and the other POWs in the ambulance were worried because they heard the Germans used the red-cross to protect some military equipment and they hoped the attacking planes were going to respect the red cross on their ambulance.
He was in a POW hospital when they were liberated. One day, the guards just disappeared and later in the day Allied troops arrived to liberate the POW camp. I think they were U.S. troops but I’m not sure.
A telegram informed Grandma that her husband was missing in action. That was all she knew until he was liberated and she got the word he was alive. A neighbor saw an interview where Grandpa was quoted and called her. It was during that time of waiting for some word of his condition that she developed ulcerated colitis.
Grandpa was put on a ship and brought back to New York City and was sent to an army hospital; Brooklyn I think. He was discharged from the hospital and I know he was on crutches for quite a while after his discharge.
Grandpa always said he felt like he was living on borrowed time. That he could have (almost did) died in the plane and didn’t. He was young and got a chance to continue living, to have a child, and see his grandchildren. He said he was in pain from his ankles most of his life.
Interesting sites
http://www.airventuremuseum.org/virtual/interactive/b17_tour/B17web.swf
http://www.bela-vista.net/Creole.htm
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/B-17_Flying_Fortress
thank you Derek
Thanks Derek and Ray. I’ll share
this with Mom and Dad.
I thought I was told that grandpa was trained as a spy, partly because he knew a smattering of German, because grandma’s mother Sophie was German. And he didn’t serve as a spy because when they looked at him, they decided he could not pass as a German! I also thought he was shot at as he parachuted down, and this was why his ankles were broken.
Also, I believe your grandma set off to find him in the Veteran’s hospital as soon as she heard he might be there – it was either in New York or Washington -he was later transferred to the vets hospital in Rhode Island, which made things easier for your grandparents
Not true about his speaking German. He never knew any German. He was fluent in Creole the language of the Cape Verde, and therefore Portuguese. The plan, as he told me, was to have him be an observer on the Cape Verde Islands, because of their strategic position in the Atlantic off Africa.
He wasn’t shot at when he was in the parachute — he did pretend he was dead because he’d heard that our men in parachutes were strafed by German fighters. But, that was a rumor he didn’t want to test. So he played dead.
That’s a pretty cool entry. You should be very proud of grandpa Rose!
Dear Derek, Many thanks for the article on Uncle Marty. I had heard of his heroism from other people; but he never spoke of the war to us. I am going to try to print this article with the pictures (they are priceless to me). If I have a problem I will ask you to send them to me. The man that hired me to work for Nabisco (over 30 years), Norm Brittain, asked about my family during the employment interview. When he saw that my mom’s maiden name was Rose, the conversation about Uncle Marty began. It’s very ironic that he passed away on May 24th, 3 days before Uncle Marty in 1989!
Hi Derek, You don’t know me and I’m sure your father Raymond, my first cousin. doesn’t know or remember me either. I am Arnold’s daughter, Uncle Marty’s half brother. We have a strange and beautiful family but it’s unfortunate that we are all so far apart in many ways. I live here in Fairhaven, Mass. Cousin Richie sent me the link to your BLOG. I have never known any of this about Uncle Marty. Reading and seeing your BLOG brought tears to my eyes. I remember Uncle Marty with nothing but love and tenderness. He was such a gentle and funny man. Our family is full of stories like this one but it takes an act of Congress to get anyone to talk about the past. (smile) Aunty Dottie is the only living sibling of them all and she’s a peach. There’s a lot of family out there and we are all clamoring for more information about your grandfather’s generation. I fall into the next generation after them and that makes you the following one. Keep in touch if you’d like. You have my email address. Thanks for the blog. It was great.
I was a co-piot on a B-17 and went down on my 4th Mission over France. I was captured and escaped three days later.
I have nothing but respect for your grandfather. What I went through was a piece of cake compared to his ordeal. My best to you for remembering your grandfather.
Sincerely,
Bob Harrington
Hi, Derek.
I came across your article about your grandfather and his experience as a B-17 gunner. My uncle was also a B-17 gunner and went to Florida for his training (he was from St. Louis, Missouri). While in training, his B-17 collided with another and he had to bail out. I’m including a recap of the incident he recently put together in his own words. He’s about 80 now.
Following is Uncle Jack’s Story…..
Hi Wally! Its a beautiful Saturday morning here and FALL has just
begun here in these Blue Ridge Mountains. My wife Norma and I retreat up
here each Spring from Jensen Beach Fl. when it begins to get too humid
and hot for comfort down there.There we live only about a quarter mile
from the ocean beach so we are blessed to be able to spend 5 or 6 months
each winter in that pleasat area.Its not extremely congested there like
it was where we lived and worked in West Palm each for 35 years (as a
pharmacist).In answer to your question about me being a P.O.W. after
bailing out: No, thank God. I was in training at the timeJuly 9th@7:15
A.M. 1944 and we were flying out of Drew Field,Tampa,Fl. at about 12,000
ft when from out of nowhere this other b-17 crashes into us from
underneath.We were supposed to be rendezvouing with a number of other
planes to go on a practice bomb run . When we collided we were about 30
miles east of Naples,Fl. over the Everglades. The Pilot of our plane was
an instructor – pilot who had recently returnedfrom England after
completing his fifty missions over Germany.Our plane went into a topsy
turvey spin etc.etc. and after all that our hero pilot feathered the
remaining engines, and somehow or other put it in a rather steep glide
to maintain flying speed and quickly I saw our radioman run past me,grab
the right waist door handle,rip it off,put his hands in a diving
position and dove out. I was still sitting there in the waist trying to
recover and eventually attached my parachute to the harness which I was
wearing.Of course, during all of this,I thought we were going to hit the
ground any second,because when we collided I had no idea how high off
the ground we were.After I finally hooked on my parachute, I looked out
the right waist window and realized I was probably going to have enough
time to bail out becuse we were still up maybe 5000 ft. Our left waist
gunner was staggering around,bleeding like a stuck hog so I picked up
his parachute,slammed it to his chest and said “FOLLOW ME’. He did.
After my chute opened, I watched our plane continue in its steep glide
and every few seconds another chute would billow out at a quickly
decreasing altitude-and another,and another and at one point I could see
all of the living survivors hanging there,before me and behind me in
their parachutes.Then I watched our crippled plane bank slightly to the
right before slamming into the Everglades.The instructor-pilot brought
it down like that, enabling us to bail out and he saved eight lives in
the process.He certainly should have gotten a medal but we survivors
back at the hospital were not EVER told anything-not even his name,and
that has always bothered me.We were told that our bombardier and our
navigator,who were in the nose, were killed at the time of the
collision. So we lost three and the other eight crew members were saved
by our heroic experienced pilots efforts which enabled us to bail out
and save ourselves even tho he was killed in the process. Every man in
the “other” B-17 was killed when their plane exploded upon impact with
ours.No chutes. I will never forget that when my chute landed me right
in the top of a big pine tree, a P-51, who happened to be nearby and
witnessed the mid-air collision, buzzed me in the tree about three
times,letting me know that help and rescue were on the way.A month later
we were on a liberty ship in a large convoy headed for Foggia
Italy,where we soon began the first of 29 missions over Germany. (I
was the armorer-gunner) You being a combat PILOT – veteran
will probably appreciate this experience that I just related to you.
(didnt realize it was going to be such a long one) Will talk with you
later. Hows the weather in the beautiful state of Washington? Talk
again with you later. Jack Penberthy
this was an awesome read….thank you for putting this together…John…
[…] my grandpa was a pretty remarkable guy: a World War II hero who helped raise his eight siblings; someone who sailed to Cape Verde as a young man and took […]
Hi, Derek
I have been delighted by your blog and your family stories about your grandfather, Mario. He was such a gem, like his father, Manuel.
My name is Isabelle “Bella” Livramento and I am first cousin to your Grandfather, Mario (“Marty”) Rose. My father Frederico DaRoza (Rose) Teixeira was brother to Manoel “LaLa” Rose, your great grandfather. Your great grandfather took the Rose last name apparently dropped the Teixeira.
Uncle Manny was my favorite loving uncle who spent much time with my father, his brother. He was highly intelligent and a very patriotic man. Tio Manoel (translated uncle Manuel in English) had a terrific sense of humor. It was fun to have him at our house. He was a multi gifted/talented carpenter as was his son Manuel, Jr. I have learned that Mario was also a gifted carpenter. Uncle Manny was very active and involved in the Cape Verdean Community and Organizations. He was involved in the Cape Verdean boy’s youth athletic sports activities. Something was always “on the fire” with him. Is it a wonder that Mario and Jo Jo were also outstanding athlelics?
In July 4, 1939 the organization “U S Boy Couriers of Cape Verdean boys from 6 – 16 years was founded by Manuel Rose, Leopoldo Burgo and Anterio Burgo. Approximately 75 boys drilled several times weekly and were taught ideals of patriotism and citizenship. They were always dressed in their professional uniform finery.
I have always been disturbed about the fact that he did so much for the Cape Verdean Community for which he never was honored or credited because he was such a very humble and unassuming man. I regret never journalizing what my parents would relate to me about Uncle Manny as I was maturing. Others have been credited with what he accomplished or established and that make me very upset.
Uncle Manny was an American and Portugese History buff. He loved to challenge me and my high school best friend with U S History questions. My mother constantly informed me that Uncle Manny’s desire was to become a lawyer. He kept a library of law books.
Your grandfather, Mario, frequently visited our house especially before he got married and after. He was a highly intelligent man like his father, Uncle Manny. I have a photo of Marty’s 1934 High School graduation . He was a handsome young man. You look just like him.
As your grandfather aged he looked just like Uncle Manny and favored Olga, his sister so much.
I remember he made a historical voyage to the Cape Verde Islands in 1937 as a crew member of the Schooner “Stranger” which was planning to sail to the Cape Verde Islands. He stayed at our grandfather’s, Cassimiro Monterio’s former house with our three aunts and also met another one of my favorite uncles, Ivo. I have a copy of a photo of Mario with our aunts, their children, and Uncle Ivo which was taken in Brava during his visit. Mario’s grandfather, Cassimiro which is also my grandfather had died while the ship was enroute to the Cape Verde Islands. I have a photo of Cassimiro. He was 100% Portugese from Madeira Islands It is true that Mario was the first ever to make a silent film of the Cape Verde Islands. It had been featured in the Cape Verdean Film Festival a few years back and I believe it was acquired from your Dad, Raymond. Your dad does not know me but I know him and knew your grandmother, Elvina.
There were four brothers Manuel, Frederico, Francisco, and Victor who were full brothers and they also had many many half brothers and sisters on Cassimiro’s side.. Uncle Manny was the only one who took the Rose last name. I knew all of Mario’s sisters and brothers. We kept in touch because we lived in close proximity in New Bedford. I believe all have passed except Dorothy who lives in New Bedford. I wonder what happened to Anita who lived in California.
I remember Mario when he worked at Hutchinson’s Book Store ( which became Saltmarsh) and he worked at the Smith Office Equipment where he held the position of manager. My mother purchased my high school graduation gift, a Smith Corona Typewriter at the Smith Office Equipment store where Mario held the position of Manager. He certainly had to be the first Cape Verdean in New Bedford to hold a managerial position especially during the 50’s. It was very rare to see any Cape Verdeans in office positions.
I lived in New York City from 1960-1990 on the Central Park West Side and also in East Harlem which is now being called “SoHa”. Ha ha to that !!! It is still Harlem. I loved living in East Harlem. My daughter Judee is still in NYC. I worked at Chase Manhattan Bank for 25 years as a Senior Executive Secretary to a principal officer who was the Budget Director and also to the Chief Economist for Chase Manhattan Investment Corporation. I loved my job and moved all over Manhattan, Wall St. Rockefeller Plaza and Park Avenue. It was a nice adventure for a New Bedford Cape Verdean girl. As with you. .Always the question, What are you? or Where are you from?. All they want to know is what ethnicity are you, period. I kept them going around the mulberry bush until I decided to explain that I am Cape Verdean. People are so funny. My daughter goes through the same thing.
My husband was a professional musician from New Bedford but lived and played in New York City from 1950 – 1996. He traveled extensively throughout the United States, South America and Puerto Rico. His musical career was extensive. He loved New York City.
You have a great blog and you have accomplished much. It would be a pleasure to hear from you. Do you know some of your cousins?? I recognized some of your relatives as I enjoyed reading the comments sent to you.
Ciao
Wow! Bella, you’ve got parts of the family story I don’t have. I do know I’ve seen photos of the U.S. Boys, but don’t remember where. I may have them. I do have all my dad’s photo albums.
My Aunt Dot is still in New Bedford, on Park Street. Best as I can tell she doesn’t use a computer.
I don’t really know my cousins, alas Bella! My father was an only child so I only have second cousins on that side of the family. I was in New Beford, though, briefly this past weekend! I had lunch at Freestone’s on William Street with my godmother. Thank you for your comment!
I like Freestones… one of my favorite places to eat in NB.
Hi Ray and Derek
Ray, you must have a wonderful collection of your Dad’s photos. What a treasure to keep and preserve. I certainly am curious about family photos. I have a great collection on my mother’s side of the family that was my great grandmother’s album.
How great it is to be in touch via “computer”. There are much untold stories to be heard I suppose – one story at a time. You must have many cousins “floating around in New Bedford” and the USA whom you have never met. I will do some investigation (smile)
Olga (Marty’s sister) had a large family. They were musically gifted, had a successful singing group. Believe me, they were all very good looking. Most lived in California. One daughter lived in the Bronx and we met after I contacted her by phone. Olga and I became very close later in life. Olga lived in Hyannis MA and had a daughter, named June who also resides in Hyannis. We have lost touch after Olga’s death in the late 90’s. I will have to do some serious searching in my storage boxes for photos etc.
I am in touch with Claudeen, ( Ray’s first cousin who lives in Oxon Hill, MD. She was the daughter of Albert (Marty’s brother born Feb. 10, 1917) who was a Sergeant killed in action in Italy Feb. 5, 1945 (366th Infantry U.S. Army. There is a Cape Verdean Veteran’s memorial dedicated to him in New Bedford. Albert never lived to see his daughter. Claudeen never knew her father. He was a very, very handsome man.
Claudeen’s mother, Julia died in Nov. 2008 and I met her and family during the wake. She visits New Bedford every year during the Cape Verdean Recognition Week.
The U. S. Courier photo I know can be found in the New Bedford Public Library microfiche in the New Bedford Standard Times Newspaper dated 1941. I came across it by accident while I was doing my favorite hobby “genealogy” on my mother’s side of the family.
“Freestones” is also my favorite restaurants to eat. My husband and I looked forward to having their “New England (white) Clam Chowder and their fresh strawberry shortcake with home-made baking powder biscuits (like my mother’s) UMMMM ummm
I have not seen Cousin Dorothy in about 2 years. I meet her daughter, Jacki, very often when visiting my older sister in New Bedford. Jacki and my daughter, Judee, attended and completed Boston College together.
Thanks for your reply.
I enjoy your blog.
Ciao
Derek:
You don’t have much about your Grandmother, Evelina. I thought I might add something here, since you’ve got a few photos of her. I don’t know a whole lot about her childhood other than the fact that her mother’s family of German immigrants, wasn’t pleased when their daughter Sophie (your Great Grandmother) married Michael Gomes. (He was from the Azores I believe.)
Jump to World War II, and your Grandfather reported as MIA. Your Grandmother developed ulcerated colitis. She always claimed it was a result of worrying about your Grandfather. She didn’t talk much about her colitis, other than we didn’t have certain foods — like anything deep fried — because of it.
Jump to the end of my sophomore year in college (1966). Grandpa comes to pick me up after finals. (I had to be the last one out of the dorm because I was an RA.) He tells me my mother has been in the hospital and they didn’t tell me because they didn’t want me to worry and have it effect my grades. She had a colostomy. She was pretty well recoverd by the time I got home, but she hadn’t wanted to to the drive from Fairhaven to Bridgeport, CT and back.
She did have to go into the hospital a couple of times, some years after the initial surgery. Once was for a blockage caused by scar tissue. She also had problems with her stoma.
There weren’t a lot of people in the New Bedford area with colostomies at that time, and she didn’t have people who could help her understand how her life would change. She found an ostomy support group in Boston. I think there was another in Providence. But there was nothing in Southeastern Massachusetts.
She decided there needed to be support for ostomy patients in the area. She learned a good deal about ostomies and helped to found the Greater New Bedford Ostomy Association. She and Grandpa went to national conferences to learn more about ostomies. I know the ostomy group had support meetings at St. Luke’s Hospital in New Bedford and Grandma did some presentations about ostomies to hospital staff. (Your mother may have some memories about this as she was a social worker at St Luke’s during part of that time.) Grandma would visit people after they had an ostomy to tell them about her experiences and to help them understand about the ostomy appliances and issues they’d have to deal with.
Having a colostomy didn’t interfere with her life. Your Grandparents traveled a great deal after your Grandmother had her colostomy.
There are more stories about your Grandmother but those are for a later time.
Thank you for sharing this story of your father/grandpa. It was touching in a way and i really liked it. It also helped me with my history homework. thank you again.
Hi Derek, I am your grandfather’s half sister. i sent you a longer message through facebook. I obtained a copy of the Advocate which is a paper from Acushnet. It has the interview done on Marty about his World War II experience!!! Excellent story!!! It was so nice to see the pictures of Marty and Evelina and of your dad!!!!! Dying to hear from you!!! Your long lost relative!!!! Maria
Hi Derek, I am David, Manuel’s son. My father, is your great grandfather, He convieved me when he was 81 died at 88.There,s also my sister Maria who contact you.Manuel married my mother in 1956 and brought her to Pawtucket ,Rhode Island.Your grandfather Marty was a great man to be around .After Manuel died ,my mother remarried to a french canadian ,and we moved to Quebec.The ROSE family are here in Quebec Canada speaking french and playing ice hockey.I went back to Pawtucket in 81,and played ice hockey for Shea high school .We went to the state championship and lost to West Warwick.I’m glad you got this blog. I always hoped that the computer would bring us together!GOtta put Ill be back.
Hello again!Sorry Derek ,I got so excited about this blog!After my father died in 72 I remember Marty coming to visit us in Pawtucket until we moved to Canada in 1975.I loved being around him.There was this sence of security! I always felt good around him. I didnt get to see him before he pass and regret it.He is aways in my heart!He is my mentor. I used to and still do tell people about my brother who was captured by the nazi! Getting all types of reactions! I am so proud of Marty ! And glad to have met you!