Jim Kangas said there wasn’t one B-17 bomber mission that he flew during World War II — and he did 35 of them — where he wasn’t afraid.
But that was 80 years ago.
On August 14, Kangas, one of the very few remaining survivors of the Second World War, will celebrate his 100th birthday.
Kangas (bottom middle) and his crew at Jack Dempsey’s bar in New York City, just before they were thrown out. His friend Houston Dosset, of Tennessee (right), stood a foot taller than Kangas. (Provided)
Early Years
Kangas grew up in Meeker County, on a farm near the small town of Kingston, Minnesota. He went to Litchfield High School for two and a half years. He had six brothers and three sisters.
His dad, Art, was an over-the-road truck driver and farmer who moved to Detroit at the beginning of World War II to work at the Chrysler plant making Sherman tanks. Jim finished his high school education in the Motor City.
“My friend and I signed up to join the Navy, and I brought the papers home for my parents to sign,” Kangas recalled. “I was underage. My dad said, ‘I’ve already got four boys in the military. You won’t go in until they drag you in.’”
Kangas graduated from high school, and in August 1943, he got his draft notice. He attended Army basic training and was given a choice of being in the ground forces or in the Army Air Corps.
“The Air Corps sounded like a wonderful idea. You don’t have to walk to where you’re going. But in the end I’m not sure it was the wise choice.”
He attended Knox College in Galesburg, Ill., for seven months as an officer candidate, but then the Army wiped out the whole program as they began their invasion of Europe. He did crew and gunnery training at Ft. Worth and at Kingman, Arizona, where he became a B-17 Flying Fortress crewman.
He was assigned to be a ball turret gunner, a position usually reserved for shorter GIs. (Kangas is 5 feet 5 inches tall.) “They didn’t say it was because of my height, but I’m sure it had something to do with it.”
At the end of crew training, his crew had done the best of all the trainees, and they were rewarded with a trip to New York.
“We did all the usual things, like go to the top of the Empire State Building. That was something for us farm boys. We ended up on Broadway and we went into Jack Dempsey’s bar. We were all a little drunk, of course.
“Someone asked us if we knew who Jack Dempsey (an American boxer who competed between 1914-1927) was, and I yelled out, ‘Who the hell is Jack Dempsey?’ Well, they threw us all out of the bar.”
The crew in England before they were broken up. Kangas is at center in the bottom row. (Provided)
Overseas
The crew flew out of Goose Bay, Labrador, but not before running into some more trouble. “We couldn’t find our plane or our pilots. We went all over the airfield. By the time we found them, all the other planes had left.”
After “a royal chewing out,” the crew was the last in their group to reach and depart from Iceland, and the last to land in Europe at Scotland. They eventually reached their base at Grafton Underwood in the heartland of England. Kangas was assigned to the 384th Bomb Group, 546th Squadron in early December, 1944.
“Our biggest adjustment was for the English weather. It was always raining or sleeting or snowing. We never saw the sun. It was a miserable time.”
The crew’s first mission was on December 12, 1944 — a routine bombing run over Meisburg, Germany.
Was he afraid? “Huh, that’s not even the word for it. Every time I crawled down into the lower ball turret, I had no illusions that I would come back. If the plane was hit, what do you think my chances were of getting out? The waist gunner could get out in seconds, but how do you get out of a ball turret?”
Early in the war, the B-17s often flew without fighter support, and Germans had excellent fighters and anti-aircraft weapons of their own. Many Fortresses were shot down.
“Earlier in the war, the Germans would attack from below, or on top, or from the sides. The ball turret gunners were very busy. But by the time we got there, the Germans would only attack from the front.”
In 35 missions, Kangas only fired his gun in combat once.
“Yes, we felt like we were only along for the ride,” he said. “You just are where you are, and you had no choice about it.”
When missions started, the turret gunners would hang around in the plane until the squadron passed over the French coast and into the realm of the German fighters, at which point they would descend to their perch. Coming back, they would get out of the turrets at about the same point.
Temperatures could reach 40 below zero at 33,000 feet, and the flight suits, boots and gloves were heated. “If the heat went out, you knew about it instantly.”
Bailing out
On the crew’s 13th mission, while flying over Mannheim, Germany, the B-17 was doing fine until it approached the coast of England on the way back. “There was heavy sleet all around and the plane just iced up. We didn’t really know where we were; we just knew we were over England.”
The pilot told the crew to bail out, and they did. “I was standing at the door with the tail gunner, and I encouraged him to jump first. That horizontal stabilizer looked a little dangerous to me, like we were going to jump right into it.”
The tail gunner jumped, and Kangas followed suit. Upon landing, two crew members broke their legs, but all survived and earned entrance into the Army’s Caterpillar Club, an informal club for crewmen who used a parachute to leave a plane.
With two men out, the Army decided to break up the crew, and for his last 22 missions, Kangas was what was called a “spare.” He flew with other crews when they needed a ball-turret gunner.
“I didn’t know anyone. The other crews were total strangers to me and they really didn’t give a damn who I was.”
Right, Staff Sergeant James Kermit Kangas had a portrait taken during World War II. (Provided)
Last Mission
As the war in Europe approached its end in late April 1945, the squadron flew one last mission — Kangas’ 35th, the last required of him — over Pilsen, Czechoslovakia.
“Our goal was to destroy as much German equipment before the Russians could get it. We didn’t trust them a bit.”
The B-17, nicknamed “Satan’s Playmate,” was hit with anti-aircraft fire during the bombing run, and both its starboard engines were disabled.
“From my excellent seat, I could see the flak coming at us. If it was black smoke, that meant it had already exploded and we were safe. If it was red, that was a little more dangerous.
“When it hits you, it’s not like you’re getting hit with a baseball bat. It’s more like all of a sudden you have holes in your plane.”
Guided by a P-51 Mustang fighter, the crippled B-17 found its way to an Allied base: A-70 near Laon, France. Two days later, the crew was transported back to Grafton Underwood. But that wasn’t the end of the ordeal.
“Our pilot’s name was Leavitt and there was another pilot on the squadron named Lovitt. Lovitt’s plane went down over the channel and all were lost. But the Army got confused and thought it was our plane that went down.
When we got to the barracks, they had removed all our gear, our clothes, everything.” And they notified the families that their sons had been killed in action.
When the mistake was corrected, the families were re-notified, and the men got their equipment and uniforms back, but it was not a pleasant experience.
At war’s end, Kangas, who earned three Air Medals in combat, was offered the choice of flying back to the United States or taking a troop ship. He opted for the ship. “I figured I had worn out my odds in the air.”
The ship was supposed to take nine days coming back and it took 18 because of bad weather and avoiding icebergs. The worst part, however, was that his ship ran into the ship ahead of them. “It put a big gash in our ship, and I heard they filled it with a mattress.”
The ship landed in Boston late in 1945, and Kangas returned home to Minnesota.
He established his own carpentry and cabinet business in the Long Lake and Wayzata area. When did he retire? “I haven’t retired yet. I still do work for my neighbors in a shop in the garage.”
Kangas now lives in an apartment in Columbia Heights. He says he has no magic advice on how to live to the century mark. “I come from a family with good genetics. I try to stay active. I’m not an alcohol abuser.”
A lot of family will be descending on Columbia Heights these days to help Kangas celebrate his birthday, Aug. 14.
He said he’s looking forward to the birthday celebration, but mainly he lives on an even keel. “I make it a point not to worry about tomorrow. Just leave it alone. I just enjoy today.”