Alumni Review 2012 Issue 1

Richard A. “Dick” Matheis ’45 said the longest day of his life began July 21, 1944, on Old Buckenham Airfield in Attleborough, England. Matheis was to fly his fifth and what was to be his final bombing mission on the B-24 “Liberator,” as navigator and back-up pilot, along with a crew of 10, including six gunners, a radio operator, a flight engineer, bombardier, the pilot and copilot.

Their operations officer, famed actor Jimmy Stewart, revealed the target on that foggy morning – a large and critical railroad yard in a suburb of Munich, requiring eight hours of flying time over enemy territory. Matheis and his crew managed to make it to Munich and drop their bomb load, but on their return, anti-aircraft fire became very intense. “The black bomb bursts became so thick, it appeared as though you could walk on them,” recalled Matheis.

Their B-24 was hit, and they lost two engines. “The good news was we had one operating engine on each side,” said Matheis. “Two lost on the same side could have thrown us into a deadly spin.” They were still six hundred miles from England, but decided to make a try for it. Eventually, they were forced to crash land on the French and German border. The entire crew got out safely. They broke into teams of two and split up, trying to make their way back to safety on foot.

Dick Matheis ’45, second from left, kneeling, and crew after his third bombing mission, July 1944.

Matheis and his partner were caught and faced a firing squad in a village square for resisting arrest. “My VMI training and discipline served me well in that tight spot,” said Matheis.

“I didn’t let fear of the consequences impede my thinking.” Luckily, both young men had German names, and Matheis used his three years of high school German to soften the commanding officer.

Matheis’ longest day ended 18 hours later in St. Croix, France, where he was imprisoned in a local dungeon. Solitary confinement and interrogations as well as several train rides followed, before Matheis was transferred to the place where he would spend the remainder of the war, Stalag Luft 1.

Stalag Luft 1 was a German military-run prisoner-of-war camp for captured Allied airmen, located on the Baltic Sea on the outskirts of the village of Barth. It was divided into five compounds enclosed by a double barbed wire fence, patrolled by guard dogs at night. The prison camp Matheis remembered was not unlike those depicted in the movies “The Great Escape” and “Stalag 17.”

“There was a military organization within the POWs,” explained Matheis. “It was known as the Allied Field Force, commanded by the ranking American officer with support from senior officers of the Royal Air Force.” A hidden radio gave them news from the BBC, and at least 50 escape tunnels were dug, although no prisoners ever escaped for more than a couple of weeks.

Matheis was asked by the inner command to become a trader after it was learned that he could speak German. “This involved working with the guards, trading mainly cigarettes for whatever needs the fellow prisoners might have,” said Matheis. “My duties were strictly trading, particularly for contraband needed by the inner command.”

Matheis spent not quite a year in Stalag Luft 1, including the difficult months of December 1944 and January 1945 when food was hard to come by. “But those were some of the most exciting times of my life,” said Matheis. “I learned to be resourceful and an opportunist, which helped me later during my business career.”

The Russians liberated the prison camp on May 1, 1945, and Matheis assisted in a massive airlift by the 8th Air Force that took place between May 12th and 14th, dubbed “Operation Revival.” “My new orders were to assist in forming up the groups as scheduled, march them to the field and load them up on the designatedplanes,” recalled Matheis.

Matheis had quite a surprise after he evacuated to London. During his first morning there, he decided to get his first professional haircut in over a year. As he was leaving the barbershop, he stepped aside to let another person enter. “I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was Joe McCullough, a good friend and classmate at VMI!” Like Matheis, McCullough had also flown in the 8th Air Force and had been shot down. He too had been imprisoned in Stalag Luft 1 but in a different compound. “Our paths never crossed there, but we made up for it many times in later life.”

Matheis had matriculated at VMI in September 1941. “I was somewhat headstrong then,” he admitted. “I had to learn discipline and teamwork and man-to-man bonding with my Brother Rats. This stood me in excellent stead during the war and continued to serve me well as I went into the business world.” Three months after matriculation, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. “The Cadet Corps was inflamed, and we all quickly enlisted in the reserve units of the three services,” he recalled.

“I entered the Army Air Corps (later known as the Air Force), as did one of my roommates, George Renneman of New York. We were the first to be called into active duty, as were all the cadets who were in the Air Corps Reserve. We were the envy of all the others, some of whom were not called up until two years later,” Matheis continued. Unfortunately, his roommate, George, died in a training plane crash a year later.

“It was not until many years after that we learned the reason for our early date of active duty. It was triggered by a very high rate of attrition among the flying officers in the war zones, resulting in an urgent need for replacements. It was probably just as well we didn’t know,” he added.

Despite the potential danger, Matheis continued indulging his passion for flying after the war, logging over 4,000 hours of business and personal flying, including coming in fourth as copilot in a New York to Paris air race. He has since written a memoir recounting this exciting period in his life.

Matheis with his wife, Sandra, in Fliorida, April 2009.