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One Sunday recently, Denzil Ferguson of the Zag Community was surprised when a stranger appeared at his home inquiring if he could give directions to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Denzil Ferguson.
It didn't take him long, however, to recognize the visitor, who asked him if he had been a member of the 8th Air Force's 100th Bomber Group during World War II. Ferguson's visitor was James "Skinner" Bartlett, of Lexington, KY, a former member of his old bomber crew whom he hadn't seen in 41 years.
For a year and a half, Bartlett and Ferguson were part of a tight-knit, nine-member crew of a four-engine B-17 "flying fortress." Bartlett , a second lieutenant, was navigator and Ferguson, a staff sergeant, was waist gunner. Together with other members of their crew, they flew 23 combat missions over France, Germany, and Austria from Thorpe Abbott Air Base in England.
Ferguson, the "old man" of the crew at age 25, and Bartlett, who was 21, were the only members from south of the Mason-Dixon Line. Two of the others were Hoosiers, Ferguson recalled, and the rest were New England "Yankees." Ferguson recalled that "Koch, the tail gunner, was only 18 when we went into combat; he aged fast."
Ferguson, Bartlett, and the rest of the crew first met at Drew Field, Florida where they were assembled from various gunnery and technical schools for advanced training. From that time, they flew as an integrated crew. Their first flight was from the States to England as a replacement crew for the 100th Bomb Group.
Ferguson said he spent the first two years of the war at Hicham Air Depot working on aircraft. He was given an honorable discharge from the Hawiian Volunteer Defense Corp so that he could come home and go into the Air Force.
"I washed out of cadet training," he recalled, "then went to gunnery school at Las Vegas, Nevada."
After the war, he and Bartlett separated. Ferguson returned to the States, but Bartlett stayed in England for awhile where he married an English girl. He later returned to the States and joined the Air Force Reserve where he served as a navigator aboard planes flying the "Hurrican Watch" on the East Coast.
Ferguson said the way his old navigator buddy learned where he lived was through Connee Wheeler, who served as Extension Agent here for a few years before transferring to Lexington a few months ago. Ms. Wheeler, who was at the Ferguson home to buy some of the baskets Mr. Ferguson makes, revealed that she was moving soon to Lexington. Mr. Ferguson told her that a former war buddy was from Lexington and she volunteered to try to get the two in touch if she could locate Bartlett. Bartlett's visit proved Ms. Wheeler fulfilled her promise.
Ferguson and Bartlett have decided they are going to try to get in touch with the other members of their bomber crew. They were Lt. James Bovenzi, pilot; 2nd Lt. John Steffenucci, co-pilot; T-Sgt. Louis Berard, engineer; S-Sgt. Robert Disandro, toggleier; T-Sgt. William Christenson, radioman; S-Sgt. Edward George, ball turret gunner; S-Sgt. Edward Koch, tail gunner.
Ferguson wants to give his form crew members a copy of a poem he wrote after the war entitled...
MY CREW
The queen has given up her throne;
The eagle no more leaves her nest.
Her silver wings are folded now.
The flying fort has come to rest.
But some of us can still recall
Her fame in days that are long gone by
When she was hailed the queen of all
And mistress of the sky.
I still recall the names of men
I flew with long ago.
There's George and Koch and Christensen;
Berard, who engineered the show.
Bovenzi rode the pilot's seat;
A better man I never knew.
And Johnny Steffenucci was a good co-pilot, too.
Disandro was our togglelier;
Skinner Bartlett blazed the way;
And I just went along because
They wouldn't let me stay.
I wonder where the old gang went
Since we busted up the crew.
And do they see in dreams sometines
Our gallant lady, too?
In regal solitude she'd sit;
Waiting eagerly to fly;
Needing but our pilot's touch
To send her hurling through the sky.
I smile to think of how we'd joke
At our early morning meal
And laugh and banter just to hide
The nervousness we'd feel.
I seem to hear Bovenzi's voice
As he would calmly say
"There's bandits in the area boys
And heading straight this way."
And when we'd have it pretty rough
We'd hear old Skinner's southern drawl,
"I hope you've got your prayer book, Ferg;
We'll likely need it in this brawl."
Then oe'r the channel once again;
See southward pier of Felix Stowe,
And heave a lusty thankful sigh;
We'd but a few more miles to go.
We'd bring our fortress smoothly down
Upon Thorpe Abbott's landing strip
To wait the coming of the dawn
While sweating out another trip.
There were no heroes on our crew;
Just nine flack-happy, shook up guys
Who flew the forts to hell and back
Through angry, flaming skies.
Denzil Ernest Ferguson was born July 30, 1920 at Zag in Morgan County, Ky, the son of David Kelly Ferguson and Lillie F. Williams. He died August 23, 1989 at Dehart, Morgan County, Ky. He was married to Ivory Carter.