The Vernon Lindberg Story
By James Casler
Vernon Lindberg
(Honest, good humor, rough and ready, easily embarrassed, jolly – 1940 “Dragon”)
437th Bomb Squadron
319th Bomb Group
Staff Sergeant (promoted November 1, 1942)
Prologue
In 1998, Tom Brokaw published a best seller entitled “The Greatest Generation”, a book inspired by his visits to the beaches of Normandy in northwestern France. While preparing documentaries for the 40th anniversary, and later the 50th anniversary, of the Allied invasion of Europe during WWII, Brokaw came to believe that the stories of these brave men and women needed to be told. He is not alone in this belief. One need only note the popularity of the television series “War Stories” with Oliver North or Ken Burns’ 14 hour PBS documentary this fall entitled “The War”, a film that covers the years of American involvement in WWII through the eyes of ordinary citizens. The cover of the September 24, 2007 issue of U.S. News and World Report featured a picture of a WWII GI with the headlines “Voices of World War II” emblazoned across the front.
While much of what is being written today is about those who survived the harrowing experiences of the war, the story of those who paid the sacrifice of the highest order also deserves to be told. Many of the details of these sacrifices have laid buried in the sealed files of government war documents, only recently made available through the Freedom of Information Act passed in 1966. One such file details the events of a young farm boy from Warren, PA who went off to war and never came back. For those who remember him, all that was known was framed in the well-known acronym, KIA, killed in action. This is his story, and it deserves to be told.
Introduction
At the entrance to War Memorial Field in Warren, PA, there stands a tall granite monument. It is dedicated to those men from Warren County who gave their lives in service to their country during the two world wars and the Korean Conflict. Two hundred and twenty-eight names are engraved there of those who died in World War II. Growing up just across the street, at the corner of Cedar St. and Lexington Ave., I often stared at those names, wondering who those men were and how they might have died. I am not sure that I realized then that one of those names belonged to a young man who had spent considerable time at our house before going off to serve his country. His name was Vernon B. Lindberg.
The Story
Vernon’s best friend, Roger McFarland, of Russell, PA, remembers that “Vernon Lindberg was a typical country boy, growing up on a farm on the barren ridge outside of Warren known as Yankee Bush” (R. McFarland, personal communication, n.d.). Even though the barn is long gone, the little white house still stands near Weiler Cemetery at the top of the hill on what today is called Follett Run Road. “Vernon’s mom (Ella) seemed to be plagued with ill health. His dad (Lorentz), too busy trying to dig out a living from the stony soil, was often unavailable to his boys when they maybe needed him the most” (R. McFarland, personal communication, n.d.).
Not much is known about Vernon’s early years. However, Sam Borland of Warren lived near the Lindberg farm on Logan Road and tells how, during his high school years, Vernon would come to his house in the morning after doing his chores on the farm to wash and dress for school. The Lindbergs had no hot water or indoor plumbing. Water for a bath had to be heated on the kitchen stove. Vernon appreciated the Borlands so much that he presented his high school diploma to Sam’s mother.
The Church
Sometime in his teen years, Vernon discovered the Church of the Nazarene in Warren. He experienced a glorious conversion to Christ and the church became his life. He was surrounded by a friendly, enthusiastic group of young people his age who were intent on living their lives devoted to Christ as well as each other. McFarland recalls:
Socially and spiritually he sought answers to his teen questions from the old saints, friends, and our Godly, loving pastors. Sunday night after Sunday night he sought peace at the altar of prayer, never sure of how the Lord was viewing him at the moment. Yet his determination to follow the Lord at all costs never really wavered. (R. McFarland, personal communication, n.d.)
McFarland owned a little log cabin on a hill in the North Warren area now known as Hillcrest. There the two friends spent many Sunday afternoons reading the Bible by lantern light, praying and praising God. One of Vernon’s favorite gospel songs was “I Will Meet You in the Morning” (just inside the Eastern Gate). In a letter to his buddy Roger, Vernon wrote:
“Old buddy, if I don’t get back I’ll be waiting for you just inside the Northern Gate.” We agreed we were Northerners. We will meet at our Northern heavenly gate.” (R. McFarland, personal communication, n.d.)
Doc and Lila Casler (my parents) were active with the young people at the Nazarene Church, and, since they lived next door on N. Irvine St., their home became a convenient place for the teens to gather. Vernon and the other young people spent many hours at our house in times of fellowship, ping pong, and table games. Dad became a spiritual mentor to many of the young people, especially Vernon. Even though I had not yet been born, I have a clear memory of my early youth when a picture of a handsome young man in a WWII military uniform had a prominent place on top of our piano. The 1940 Warren High School year book listed him as Vernon B. Lindberg: honest, good humor, rough and ready, easily embarrassed, jolly. He must have found a deep friendship with my dad. In a letter he wrote to my parents from flight school in 1942, he referred to my dad as “pal” numerous times. He also reminded dad of the best places to hunt rabbits, squirrels and coyotes. There are also several comments about his relationship with the Lord and how he felt God’s presence and blessings on his soul. When I first saw the faded old letter in 2006, I was astounded at his affection both for my parents and for the Lord.
Seated L to R – Agnes Moore, Roger McFarland, Doc Casler, Lila Casler, Joyce McFarland, Dorothy Fitzgerald
The War
Sometime after his high school graduation in 1940, Vernon came to live with my family at 5 N. Irvine St. He had found a job in town and found it difficult to commute back home the several miles up the hill to the farm each day. Meanwhile, the war in Europe was escalating. By that summer of 1941, Rommel had arrived in North Africa to command the Afrika Corps in their successful “Operation Sonneblume.” German bombers had been blasting London in what came to be called “The Battle of Britain.” By April of 1941, 50,000 metric tons of bombs had been dropped on the UK. Sometime in the summer of 1941, Vernon learned he was about to be drafted. His older brother Clifford, already in the army, advised his younger brother to avoid army life if possible by enlisting in another branch of the service. Vernon chose the Army Air Corps. My brother Larry remembers when Vernon left for the service.
Mom and Dad were very sad. It was right about the time that Irvine Street was paved for the first time. Vernon was a little apprehensive about driving over the sharp rocks on the road bed before they got the pavement down because his tires were so old and thin. (L. Casler, personal communication, April 2007)
In the fall of 1941, Vernon said goodbye to his girlfriend, Durneices Dean, and left for basic training and eventually flight school at Keesler Field, Biloxi, Mississippi. Keesler had just been activated in June 1941 and was one of the Army’s newest training centers. However, in a letter dated November 9, 1941, Vernon mentions that he had been there five weeks and there was still no heat or hot water in the barracks. That of course meant shaving and showering with cold water. He also mentioned they were eating out of mess kits. It is hard to imagine such a new facility without these basic amenities. Perhaps it was the military’s way of toughening up the new recruits.
Roger McFarland carried these three photos of Vernon in his wallet for fifty years.
B-26 Marauder
Vernon was assigned to the 437th Squadron of the 319th Bombardment Group and trained on the B-26 Marauder, a twin-engine medium bomber built by the Glenn L. Martin Company. The B-26 had just passed its initial flight test in November 1941 and shortly afterwards had gone into production. However, design problems led to a high number of accidents during takeoff, thus earning B-26 the nickname "Widowmaker" by its pilots. Other colorful nicknames included "Martin Murderer,” "The Flying Coffin", and "B-Dash-Crash." After a number of modifications, the plane distinguished itself as "the chief bombardment weapon on the Western Front," according to a US Army dispatch from 1946 and also because the B-26B maintained the lowest loss record of any combat aircraft during World War II. Its loss record stands in sharp contrast to its unofficial nickname “Widowmaker” (“B-26 Marauder,” 2007).
B-26 Marauder
Squadron History
The 437th was activated at Barksdale Field, Louisiana on June 26, 1942. On July 16, the squadron had its first accident resulting in one death. Four days later, another plane was lost, although with no loss of life. On September 1, another plane went down killing the entire crew. By the end of September, however, training had been completed and plans were made to move the squadron to England.
On the 23rd of September the major part of the squadron flew to Presque Isle, Maine. From Presque Isle onward there was no set schedule of take offs. It was every man for himself. Some left Presque Isle on the 25th and the rest followed as soon as the planes were ready and weather permitting. The next stop was Goose Bay, Labrador, which was the jumping off place for the trip across the Atlantic. The crews stayed here for three or four days and proceeded on to Greenland. In Greenland, another plane was lost. This plane was piloted by Lt. Edwards and crashed as it landed on the field. (Department of the Air Force, 1942, p. 4)
It was then on to Iceland and eventually to Prestwick, Scotland. Here, English crews came aboard to guide the planes on to England. At bases in England, further training was given to familiarize the crews with the German methods of aerial warfare. On November 9 they took off for Honington to have their planes put in shape for the proposed trip to Africa and their entrance into combat.
Vernon B. Lindberg
“Black Thursday”
On Thursday, November 12, 1942, just two days before the squadron was scheduled to fly to North Africa to begin combat operations, the 319th lost five planes and three crews. One of those planes was The Hobo of the 439th Bomber Squadron, piloted by Captain Frank Tuttle, squadron commander. His tail gunner was Vernon B. Lindberg.
Ten B-26s of 439th BS took off from Attlebridge, UK, in dense fog, on that day. The planes soon encountered extremely bad weather with low clouds and rain. Five returned safely. Two Marauders got lost in the clouds. They strayed over the port of Brest on the Cherbourg peninsula in German-occupied France and were shot down by flak. 319th Bomb Group CO Lt. Col Rutherford was also on board. The 439th Bomber Squadron lost 18 men that day. (Johannessen, 2005)
According to German documents, Lt. Elmer A Riketts, listed as POW, was the only surviving crew member of the Hobo.
“Lt. Barr who flew in the one plane which returned from the three plane formation reported that he last saw Col. Rutherford’s and Captain Tuttle’s plane just a few feet off the ground over the coast of France. They were lost, believed themselves over the coast of England, and had been force down or shot down.” (Department of the Air Force, 1942, p. 4)
Death notification
Even though the telegram was intended for Vernon’s mother, Mrs. Ella Lindberg, it was addressed to our home at 5 N. Irvine St., Warren, Pennsylvania. It was surprising to learn that Vernon had listed 5 N. Irvine St. as his residence and his home on Route #3 (Yankee Bush) as an emergency address. (A German document entitled Sterbuerkunden Amerikanishcher Kriegsgefangener – death certificate for American prisoners of war – listed 5 N. Irvine St. as Vernon’s home address.) It was the telegram everyone dreaded. “The Secretary of War desires me to express his deep regret that your son, Sergeant Vernon B. Lindberg, Air Corps, has been reported missing in action by the commanding general of the Western European Area” (Department of the Army: War Department, 1943). It was dated November 24, 1942, twelve days after the plane went down. It wasn’t until January 18, 1943 that the telegram arrived stating that Vernon was a POW.
However, German records tell a more detailed story. A document from the Reich Minister of Aviation dated January 20, 1943, reports that on November 12, 1942, Sgt. Vernon B. Lindberg was captured, wounded, and taken to a field hospital. A document from the field hospital states:
The American airman Sgt. Vernon B. Lindberg, Id. Tag 13038395 T 41 was brought to this hospital on 12 November, 1942 by an ambulance of the Sea-Rescue-District. Diagnosis: Probably crush (fracture) of skull. The patient died on 24 November at 2300. Cause of death: Bleeding of brain and ceasing of blood circulation. (Department of the Army: War Department, 1943)
The notification finally came in February of 1943 that Vernon had died as a result of wounds received in action. Those who knew him were devastated by the news, having held out hope that though he had been listed as MIA and later as a POW he might still survive the war.
A document prepared by the German Navy Air Base Commandantur to the German Military Inquiry Office for fallen soldiers and prisoners, reads as follows:
The Navy Air Base Commando A III/XI announce the funeral of an American flyer who was shot down on 12-11-42 by our fighters. Because the injuries were so severe, he died 24-11-42. The body was put into a coffin at Cherbourg Hospital and on 27-11-42 at 9:30, was buried with Military Honors. The grave is at a civilian cemetery in Cherbourg-Octeville in the English section. (Department of the Army: War Department, 1943)
Burial
After the war, on March 6, 1945, Vernon’s body was moved to the U.S. military cemetery in Blosville, France, Plot AA, row 7, grave 133. In a heart wrenching letter dated April 1946, Vernon’s mother wrote the following to the War Department, Washington, D.C.
Dear Major General,
…. If you can bring Staff Sergeant Vernon Bresee Lindberg A.S.N. 13038395 home to be interred in the cemetery here on the hill we can see the cemetery from our house. My how glad and thankful I could be. You said Vernon was buried in the U.S. Military Cemetery Blosville, France, plot AA, row 7, grave 133. I, Vernon’s mother am in a wheel chair. I was in the hospital from Mother’s Day last year until the next day after Japan signed peace with us. Sick over Vernon, my own precious darling. Vernon loved this place. He wanted us to build here again (their house had burned in 1941) so we did. If you do bring him home to bury him we are four miles from Warren, Pa. If I could have Vernon in the Weiler’s Cemetery I would be so glad, so wonderful glad. Then I could look up there to know where he was. May the Dear Lord and the Holy Angels bless and be with you is my prayer. Such a wonderful Christ to let me have my darling home again. I can take care of his grave if it is here. This is so terrible much for me. Vernon was a good Christian. I do want to walk and do things.
Yours Truly,
Mrs. Ella Wilcox Lindberg
(E. Lindberg, personal communication, April 11, 1946)
The response from the Quartermaster General to Mrs. Lindberg’s request contained a puzzling statement. It reads as follows:
This office appreciates your desire to determine the final resting place of your son. However inasmuch as the records of this office indicate that the legal next of kin of the late Sergeant Lindberg is his father, this office must recognize his right to determine the final resting place of the remains of your son. (Major General H. Feldman, August, 8, 1946)
Apparently, Vernon had named only his father as the sole legal next of kin. However, his father, Lorentz, had failed to return a form indicating disposition instructions for the remains of his son. It could have been he wished that his son remain in the Military Cemetery with the others who died in the service of their country. In a letter dated June 2, 1949, the Quartermaster General wrote:
This is to inform you that the remains of your loved one have been permanently interred, as recorded above, side by side with comrades who also gave their lives for their country. Customary military funeral services were conducted over the grave at the time of burial. (H. Feldman, personal communication, June 2,1949)
The final resting place was to be as follows:
*Sgt. Vernon B. Lindberg, ASN 13 038 395
Plot A, Row 8, Grave 25
Headstone: Cross
St. Laurent (France) U.S. Military Cemetery
After the Department of the Army had completed all final interments, the cemetery was transferred, as authorized by the Congress, to the care and supervision of the American Battle Monuments Commission.
Epilogue
After the war, Vernon’s father would often have boys from church help with farm chores. Roger and Stanley Phelps, as well as my brother, Larry Casler, spent time working on the farm. Larry remembers:
Lorentz Lindberg was very nice, lots of fun to spend time with. When the horses would get balky he would cuss them out in Swedish. He never would tell me what he was saying, but the horses obviously understood. I still remember the clanking of milk cans early in the morning when he would bring them up to the road for Warren County Dairy to pick up. In later years I thought that he was probably so kind and fatherly to me because of how Mom and Dad had befriended Vernon. (L. Casler, personal communication, April 2007)
Roger spent considerable time working on the farm over the years haying, handling the livestock, and helping Lorentz butcher veal calves headed for local markets such as Loblaws and other markets. Eventually, Vernon’s dad began to confide in Roger about his feelings concerning the loss of his son. At one point, he indicated that the reason he did not bring Vernon’s body home was that he felt that there was no way to be sure it was actually Vernon.
Today the barn is gone. There are many new houses in the area on what was once farm land. But the little white farm house still stands on Follett Run Road. It is a silent testimonial to a handsome, shy farm boy who left the hill called Yankee Bush to serve his country, and who now lies beneath a white cross near the beaches of Normandy. Rest in peace, Vernon B. Lindberg.
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*Vernon had been promoted to Staff Sergeant on November 1, 1942. This correction of his rank was made by the War Department in December of 1950.
