Alvin J Gibbons

submitted by: Pyper Richardson


This is the story about my great grandpa, Alvin J Gibbons and how he saved people’s lives. He was stationed at the 8th AAF bomber station in England he was only 20 years old. He was the engineer and gunner for a B-24 Liberator which was one of the heavy bombers in charge of attacking Nazi war making installations. Because of his actions he is credited for saving the lives of his fellow crew members.
After dropping its bombs on their target, the b-24 that my great grandpa was the waste gunner on was hit with heavy flak bursts. This blew a big hole in the nose of the plane making it so none of the controls worked. The co-pilot and the pilot were both injured. Alvin tried to radio the pilot but wasn’t getting an answer, so he grabbed an oxygen tank and went to the front of the plane to check on them and see how much damage there was. When he noticed the co-pilot, the navigator, bombardier, and turret gunner were gone and all that was in their place was a trail of blood to the nose where the hole was in the plane from where it was hit. Alvan asked the pilot where they went, but the pilot just shook his head. My grandpa then climbed into the co-pilot seat to take over controls, but then he realized all the controls were damaged. He then helped the pilot out of his seat and climbed in to take over while the pilot got first aid. The windshield was covered with hydraulic fluid but luckily the left window had been shot out, so he was able to put his head out to see. Oil and smoke were pouring out of the #4 engine and the #2 engine was missing with 20 miles still to fly to reach the French coast. Due to the damage to the nose, Rocky the nose turret was trapped, and nobody could help him because there was a huge hole in the ground from the flak bombs. After Rocky finally freed himself, he realized that his parachute had blown out of the plane, so he was still stuck. My grandpa then got the idea to use the long emergency engine crank to pass the emergency parachute to Rocky. My grandpa continued to push the damaged plane to fly for 15 minutes more while his companions tried to force open the bomb doors. Bowers, Murphey, and Gray said: that they could just not make the doors open. My grandpa told them it was okay and to just go out of the flak hole. So they did.
At only at 5,000 ft elevation now, it was no longer safe for my grandpa and the pilot to both make it safely out the flak hole so, my grandpa had the pilot hold the plane steady. He then took off his parachute and crawled back to the bomb bay doors and somehow managed to get the doors open. My grandpa said the last he saw of the pilot, he smiled and fell out. Then my grandpa put his chute back on, let go of the controls, slid out of the pilot’s seat, stepped into the bomb bay door, grabbed the hydraulic line, swung out and dropped.
By now the plane was only at around 4500 ft. he then tells how he fell end over end at first but then felt like he had stopped in the air. He pulled his chute cord, but nothing happened. He said it felt like forever, but it only took seconds as he fell another 2000ish feet. Luckily, his chute was a chest pack, so he was finally able to rip it open with his hands. The plane crashed a couple of minutes later and landed in a field not to far from where he landed. The plane did not damage anything or hurt anyone.
Even though he shattered his hip when he landed in a chicken run, my grandpa survived and lived on to be able to share his story. He is a true hero to all, and I am proud to call him my grandpa!