In the heart of World War II, countless brave Americans answered freedom’s call, flying perilous missions high above enemy lines. Today on Our American Stories, we hear from listener Chuck Gisling, who shares a powerful family history of sacrifice and discovery. His uncle Charles, a courageous B-24 bomber navigator, was part of a harrowing July 1944 mission over Germany. As flak filled the sky and enemy fighters swarmed, Charles and his crew aboard the ‘Model T’ faced impossible odds, fighting for every inch of sky.
That fateful mission left an indelible mark on his family, as Charles was declared Missing in Action, then later Killed in Action, buried far from home. Decades later, a determined Chuck Gisling embarks on a deeply personal journey, navigating conflicting records and long-held family mysteries to trace his uncle’s final resting place. This moving quest leads him through the echoes of World War II history, revealing the truth behind an American hero’s sacrifice and forging a powerful, generational connection to a brave navigator now at peace in the Ardennes American Cemetery.
📖 Read the Episode Transcript
Early in the morning on July seventh, 1944, forty-two American B-24 bombers took off from England on a bombing run. My uncle Charles was in one of those bombers. He was the navigator, and he was in the bomber with the tail number 52517 and the nickname ‘Model T.’ The mission was to bomb an aircraft manufacturing planet in Bahrenberg, Germany. As the forty-two planes approached, they began taking heavy flak from the enemy fire on the ground. The ‘Model T’ plane carrying my uncle and his crew was badly damaged with that flak.
The formation of bombers got over target, and they were able to drop their bombs. What had not happened yet, though, was that the fighter escorts, the Allied fighter escort planes, had not shown up yet. But, on the other hand, the bombing formation had not run into enemy fighters either. After passing over target and dropping the bombs successfully, the formation turned to the north and then began a slow turn back to the west to head back to England. At that time, they encountered head-on enemy fighter planes, and I’ve found two estimates of the numbers of enemy fighter planes. One estimate said there were 175 enemy fighter planes against our forty-two bombers. The other estimate said that there were 325 enemy fighter planes. Either way, our bombers were terribly outnumbered and had no fighter escorts to help them fight off these enemy fighter planes. The ‘Model T’ took more damage from the enemy fighter planes. Crew members were injured; the plane began losing altitude. The pilot decided that the plane would not be able to make it back to England, and he decided that the crew needed to bail out. So, he would have done three things. First, he would have run the bailout bell, telling the crew to bail out. Second, he would have put the plane on autopilot just to try to keep the plane flying straight and level. And third, he would have hit the switch to open the bomb bay doors. After doing those, the pilot and the co-pilot and the radioman all dropped down out of the cockpit into the bomb bay. Upon getting to the bomb bay, they discovered they were the only ones there. None of the other crew members made it into the bomb bay. They also discovered that the bomb bay doors had been damaged by the flak and by enemy fighter fire and had failed to open. They were jammed.
There was an explosion, blew a hole in the side of the plane, and the co-pilot was blown out of the plane. His parachute opened, and he landed successfully on the ground where he was captured and was held captive for the rest of the war. The plane now continued with a hole in the side, flying for a few more miles until it flew itself into the ground south of a town called Egelm, Germany. The townspeople from Egelm came out to the crash site, and they described what they found. They found maps, books, charts, and they found eight American bodies. They took the bodies, including my uncle, into their town and they buried them in their town cemetery in Egel. Within a couple of days, my grandfather received a telegram, telling him that his son Charles was Missing in Action. For nearly two years, my mom and her dad prayed and hoped that Charles was somehow alive. That was not to be the case. In 1946, now almost two years later, they received the letter from the Army Air Force confirming that Charles was Killed in Action and now telling them that he is buried in the town cemetery in Egel.
After the war ended, the United States sent brave recovery teams into Europe to try to recover missing Americans.
When the war ended, there were 90,000-plus Americans who were officially listed as Missing in Action. Still, finding the bodies of these eight men who had been on the ‘Model T’ B-24 that went down near Egel was relatively easy because the Germans townspeople had made written records of what they had done, and they had turned those records over to the International Red Cross, who then passed them on to American forces. And so, my uncle’s body was recovered, and he was reidentified, and then my grandfather was given the choice of bringing him back to the United States for reburial here or leaving him in Europe, where he would be buried in one of the American cemeteries that were being established in Europe. My grandfather decided to leave Charles in Europe. Now, he never really communicated this well to my mom, who spent the rest of her life confused and really wondering where her brother was buried. After my mom died, I became interested in this and began researching and trying to sort out where is my uncle Charles buried.
Well. I came across that letter from 1946 saying that he was buried in Ego. In addition to researching, I discovered online that I could actually type his name into the American Battlefield Monument’s website, and I did, and they indicated that he was buried in the Ardennes American Cemetery in Belgium. So now I have two conflicting bits of information, one saying Egel in Germany, one saying the Ardennes American Cemetery in Belgium.
So, I wrote to the people at the Ardennes American Cemetery, and I explained my dilemma, and I asked them, ‘I just want to know where is my uncle?’ And they wrote back the nicest letter to me. They explained what had occurred after the war, and how the grave recovery teams had gone into Europe and recovered bodies, and how families were given the choice, and they said, ‘Apparently, your grandfather decided to leave your uncle Charles here in Europe, and he is now buried at the Ardennes American Cemetery.’ And then they closed with these words: ‘Your uncle is here with us, and we are taking good care of him.’ So, from that point on, it became my mission to go visit his grave, knowing that no other family member had been to his grave. His dad never went to his grave; his mom had died when he was just a little baby. His other brother had never been there. And I made it my mission to go visit his grave in the Ardennes American Cemetery, and in 2016, I was finally able to do that. That was quite a trip because as we were driving around, trying to find the cemetery, we were within ten miles of it for almost two hours, driving around, not able to find the road that the cemetery was on. Once we finally found it and we got to the cemetery, I walked inside the gates, and the caretaker was taking down the American flag, getting ready to close the gates for the day. I spoke to him, and I told him that I was there to see my uncle’s grave.
He asked if I knew where it was located. I told him only that I knew it was in Section D, Row 11, Grave 49. He pointed to where Section D was, and he said, ‘Once you get there, just start counting rows forward, and when you reach 11, turn right, and begin walking down the row and counting the graves until you get to 49.’ And then he told me, even though it was closing time, he said, ‘Don’t worry, just take as much time as you need.’ So, I proceeded with my wife behind me, and upon reaching Row 11 in Section D, we turned inward and began to walk, counting the cross on each grave one at a time.
At some point, I must have lost count. I reached what I thought was number 49, and I turned to look at the cross. It was not Charles’s name on that cross, and in my tired, emotional state, I broke down in tears, saying, ‘It’s not him!’ Walking behind me, my wife had also been counting; she calmly said, ‘Two more. Go two more, moving forward, two more graves.’ I was finally standing with my uncle Charles. The emotions that I felt—the joy, the sadness, the relief—they’re all beyond my ability to put into words. I wish so much that my mom could have visited her brother’s grave with me. But then again, she is with him now. She was with him then, watching me visit him. She, Charles, and their brother Harold, all standing there with me, all saying, ‘Thank you!’ On our way out of the cemetery that afternoon, I spoke once again to the cemetery manager, who had been so gracious to me, allowing me to stay beyond closing time. I told him that I was the only member of my uncle’s family to have visited his grave. He responded, ‘Most of the men here have never had any family member visit. Your uncle is lucky.’
Engraved on a granite wall inside the entrance to the cemetery are the words: ‘To the silent host who endured all and gave all that mankind might live in freedom and peace.’ I think that the 5,000 men in this cemetery, the 90,000-plus men in all of the World War II American cemeteries that lie on foreign soil, in fact, all who endured all and gave all that mankind might live in freedom and peace, only asked one thing of you and me.
Just one thing: that we not forget. This story is my effort to not forget.
And a terrific job on the production, editing, and storytelling by our own Nathaniel Gallagher. And a special thanks to Chuck Kissling. He’s a listener, and we’re so grateful he shared his story and the story of his uncle Charles, who was a World War II bomber navigator who paid the ultimate price for his service to his country, along with over 400,000 others plus, including my own uncle, the uncle I never met or knew; and that happened to so many families across this great country. I want a heartbreaking thing to hear from that person in charge of taking care of that cemetery in Europe: that most of the men here, he said, ‘have never had any family visit.’ And that’s heartbreaking and heartbreaking, but also beautiful that Chuck took that visit to honor his uncle and to honor his uncle’s memory. The story of loss, love, and sacrifice here on Our American Stories.
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