I wrote this story around early 2004 and originally published it in Aviation Review, Vol. 6, No, 6 (ca. early 2004).
The story, as it appeared in Vol. 6 No. 6, contained this editorial note: In Aviation Review Vol. 3 No. 4 we printed parts of Glenn Rojohn’s story. We recently heard that he died; in commemoration of his life, we are re-telling his story in this issue.
I first heard of the amazing story of Glenn Rojohn’s New Year’s Eve 1944 mission through the B-17 Flying Fortress Newsletter, by Maj. Don Hayes. I read a story called “Bizarre B-17 Collision over the North Sea;” I was amazed, but over time the story passed from my mind.
It speedily returned on October 3, 1999. I was attending the 100th Bombardment Group’s Cincinnati reunion. At the final grand banquet on Saturday night, host Hal Estill invited forward one of the group’s last surviving commanders, General Jeffries. He rose from his seat and walked to the podium. He called Lt. Glenn Rojohn.
As they explained the reason for which they had called him to the front, the story I had read (which I reprinted in Vol. 3 No. 4) came back to my mind.
On December 31, 1944, Lt. Rojohn, a B-17 pilot, was flying his 22nd mission. Though he had been scheduled for leave, it was a “maximum effort” so his crew flew.
At the morning briefing they learned that they were flying to Hamburg.
They prepared for flight and took off after a fog delay.
When they prepared to rendezvous with their fighter escort, they learned that the escort had been delayed due to weather.
Though the 100th Bomb Group encountered flak over the target, Rojohn’s crew completed their bomb run successfully.
They turned toward home and when over the North Sea encountered numerous German fighters at 22,000 feet.
Ten of the 100th’s thirty-seven airplanes on the mission were lost then; only a total of twenty-five eventually made it back to base.
When a B-17 flown by 2nd Lt. Charles Webster was shot down in flames, Rojohn maneuvered so as to fill the hole in the formation. While the B-17 was sliding into its place, Rojohn’s plane shuddered and the crew felt a “tremendous impact.” They accurately guessed that their airplane had collided with another bomber.
That had no idea of the way in which the collision took place.
Lt. William MacNab’s B-17 had risen upward and the two airplanes so collided as to become, in effect, one makeshift biplane.
Nobody knows why MacNab’s plane was rising at the time of the collision. The pilots of the MacNab plane may have been injured; they may have also been intending to fill the hole in the formation. On the MacNab B-17, the radio was dead; therefore, neither pilot heard the warning calls.
A fire started in MacNab’s plane as the two airplanes flew down together.
After several attempts by Rojohn to gun the engines to fly his plane off of MacNab’s failed, he rang the bail-out bell.
Due to heroic efforts on Rojohn and his co-pilot William Leek’s part to steady the falling airplane, six of the seven other crewmen aboard were able to bail out. (The ball turret gunner had been fatally trapped at his position when the collision took place.) Two of those who were able to bail out did not survive the parachute jump. During this time when Rojohn and Leek were holding the two planes steady, four men from the MacNab plane also bailed out.
Rojohn ordered Leek to bail out; Leek refused because he knew Rojohn could not fly the two planes on his own at once and could not survive the certain death spiral. The two men stayed flying both their upper and the lower B-17s – at once
Rojohn had turned the two airplanes back over Germany and they glided toward and reached land.
In the crash-landing at Tettens, near Wihelmshaven, Germany, Rojohn’s plane finally slid off MacNab’s plane. MacNab’s plane immediately exploded; Rojohn’s slid forward. The left wing hit and demolished a wooden communications building.
The Americans were quickly taken into German custody.
Meanwhile, the Germans watching the aerial monstrosity could not believe their eyes. They thought the Americans were flying a new eight-engined airplane. They questioned one of the men on board the airplanes for two weeks before they were finally convinced that the anomaly was not a strange new secret weapon.
Glenn Rojohn remained through the rest of the war in a German prison camp.
After the war, he joined his father and brother in a McKeesport, Pennsylvania air conditioning and plumbing business.
By the time I met Rojohn, he was an elderly man. And he was about to receive an honor he had rightfully earned but had not been awarded through a bureaucratic red tape delay – of over fifty years in duration.
As General Jeffries stated from the podium, Lt. Rojohn was due to become a Captain in February 1945, but when he returned home the Army Air Force neglected to promote him.
But for this October evening, the men of the 100th (and especially General Jeffries) had done the necessary research and paperwork.
Lt. Glenn Rojohn stood at attention. The bars were pinned on. On that evening, Glenn Rojohn became a Captain. The honor that had been neglected years ago was finally bestowed on this hero, former POW, and honorable American.
Rojohn: A New Chapter
The story above references this earlier story. I wrote it in late 1999 after attending the 100th Bomb Group’s reunion in Cincinnati, Ohio, where Rojohn earned a long-overdue honor.
It was a large gathering, approximately 750 people in the Grand Ballroom of the Regal Hotel in Cincinatti. It was a reunion of the 100th Bombardment Group, the final grand banquet on Saturday night, October 3, 1999. Part-way into the meal, Hal Estill invited forward one of the group’s last surviving commanders, General Jeffries. He rose from his seat and walked to the podium, calling Lt. Glenn Rojohn.
Rojohn is now an elderly man. But when Lt. Rojohn was a young man, he survived one of the most dangerous crashes of World War II.
Lt. Rojohn survived the prison to come home and lead a productive life. He even met survivors from his crew and recounted experiences with them.
As General Jeffries stated from the podium, Lt. Rojohn was due to become a Captain in February 1945, but when he returned home the Army Air Force neglected to do so.
Lt. Rojohn has lived a quiet life since. But for this October evening, the men of the 100th (and especially General Jeffries) had done the necessary research and paperwork. Lt. Glenn Rojohn would become a Captain.
He stood at attention. The bars were pinned on. On that evening, Glenn Rojohn became a Captain. The honor that had been neglected years ago was finally bestowed on this hero, former POW, and honorable American.
Captain Rojohn walked back to his seat. One of World War II’s heroes had received a deserved honor.