392nd Bomb Group


by Stanley C. Zybort, Aircrew SGT.

The last flight. What do I remember about it? Let's see. 'Twas the 6th of August 1944. A week before my birthday. The coming weekend was to be our first weekend pass. The crew already was planning to go to Norwich. Last Saturday Ted Garbeff went to town and purchased for me a pair of English boots, I believe the price was $35.00. The boots were the thing to wear in town.

But getting back to that flight, I remember being called early in the morning by the barracks Chief. Up and at it. Getting dressed in a hurry and heading out to the mess hail. It was a cold and damp morning. The crew made it to the mess hail, There were other crews already eating breakfast. We had a good meal. Eggs, bacon, cereal, coffee and what else we wanted. After breakfast the crews were going to the briefings. It was 06 hours. We hear our briefing. The target was Hamburg, Germany. Weather conditions would be clear and the Bombardier would have no problems seeing the target. We were to follow in formation in the lower right echelon. One of the last squadron to go over the target.

With the briefing over, we met with the officers and headed for the plane. The crew chief said the plane was ready. Being the Flight Engineer I went over the plane as I usually did. Checked the tail section, fuselage, wheels, landing gear, and headed into the plane. Climbed in the bomb bay up into the cockpit. On the way up looked at the load of bombs. They looked like they were a good size. If they hit, and whatever they hit would certainly blow it to bits. Imagine Ten big Bombs riding in the bomb bay. In the cockpit the gasoline gages were checked and they indicated the tanks were full. Then the gauges were emptied. The gasoline was emptied in the bomb bay. It was no smoking time. The gasoline in the bomb bay had to evaporate and the smell of high octane had to disappear. Lt. James Beatty was the Captain of the plane and was in the pilot's seat. Lt. Eiting Wells in the co-pilot's seat. Lt Ted Garbeff, the Navigator, in the nose of the plane checking out the Norden bombsight as the bombardier was not going on this flight. Do not know Why. The first flight he was going to miss. George Ametta, right waist gunner; Jim Duaphy, left waist gunner; Alpha Dowell, Tall Gunner: Bob Mulder, ball turret gunner; Earl Berquist, Radioman, had to be at hrs radio. He shared the top turret with the Flight Engineer, me. When the Flight Engineer has to check-out any section of the plane Earl would take the top turret. That was the crew for this mission.

It was time to start the engines. Number three was first as it was connected with the auxiliary hydraulic system. It was the engine we needed in case the main hydraulic system was shot out. Beatty turned on the started for engine three. The propeller started turning slowly at first then faster and faster until it coughed blue white smoke and the engine ran smoothly. The pilot would the let it run at about 2000 rpm's. The same procedure for engine number two, the engine number four, then and finally engine one. All four engine running smoothly we waited to receive the signal to line up and make our way to the taxi strip and the prepare to take off. After a wait the flare went off. The lead plane slowly edged up heading to the flight line to take of f. One by one the planes would roll up and pass our parking spot. Waiting seemed long but now it was our turn to enter the line of Liberators. Beatty would ease up on the brake, rev up the engines and slowly creep out. The flight engineer stayed between the pilot and co-pilot checking out the instruments. We would reach the runway to follow the planes to turn the pilot revs #1 and #2 engines and the plane slowly turns to the left. As we line up behind the planes in front of us, the pilot eases up on #1 and #2 engines and then slowly pushes the throttle on all four engines. We creep along. Creep, and Creep, now and then the creeping is too fast and the brakes have to be applied. The plane's nose goes down and then the nose goes up as a porpoise in the ocean every time the pilot applies the brakes, We see the Liberators taking off one by one. Now it is our turn to swing unto the take-off strip. We are given the word from the tower to take off. Slowly Beatty pushes all four throttles up to full, making sure that one isn't ahead of another as not to make the plane swerve to the right or left. As he is pushing the throttle up the flight engineer is reading off the air speed. Ten, Twenty, Thirty, Forty, Fifty .... Ninety, One Hundred, One Ten, One Twenty, air speed but Beatty wants more speed before take off. One forty, One fifty as the co-pilot and the engineer hold the throttles to the fullest Beatty takes the wheel and slowly pulls back. The nose starts to pick up. The plane feels the air under its wings and starts to take off the ground. Little at first and then lightly takes off. The plane goes into a steady climb. Everybody sighs with relief. Were Of f. As the ground slowly fades away we climb and slowly turn and turn in circles to catch up with the lead plane and start the formation. When all the planes are up and in formation we take off for the target. In the meantime one or two planes have to abort the mission for one problem or another.

With the headphones on you hear a lot of jabbering. Then the word comes in to maintain silence. Very little is spoken. The lead plane telling this pilot or that pilot to get in a tighter and In a closer formation; or that he is too low; or to stop weaving. The engineer, in the meantime, is checking the propellers and is synchronizing then. you listen to your engines and when they purr you know when they are in sync when the propellers look as they are going backwards. Over the channel we are given the word to test fire our fifty mm guns. I climb into the top turret Look around and fire a burst. First I make sure that no liberator is in my sight. In some instances one gun is firing a burst into another plane.

It is then you hear some language of the headphones, which you never heard before. We wait and watch. Wait and watch. Looking for Messerschimtts or any other German plane. As we go over cities you see a burst of anti aircraft fire. It Is far below. We must be up at twenty two thousand feet. The air Is cold. Below zero at times. The sun is out. It is always sunny above the clouds. It may be raining below you, but above the clouds it is bright sun. The you see the beautiful vapor trails. It is heavenly. Right behind the engine nacell you see a void then the formation of the vapor trail. Swilling, twisting, failing back the ever-lasting vapor trail. At times when you take off and are reaching your altitude the cloud formation is unbelievable. Your traveling through mountain of clouds on either side of you something ethereal. The plane climbing and banking to the right then to the left softly bouncing off one cloud and hitting the next one. But, nothing happens, the clouds just pillows you off one voluminous cloud unto the next. Onward to the target. One hour passes then the second, the third and soon the Captain's voice whispers out, We're nearing the target. You see the flak up ahead. The lead planes are over the target. You strain your eyes to see how heavy the flak Is. Are any of the planes hit? Any smoke coming out of the engines? As you come closer and closer to the target you look below to see where the flak is coming. Is it ahead of you! Are you going through it! The flak smoke is getting thicker and thicker. Your heading right for it! The navigator-bombardier, on this mission, Garbeff takes over the command of the plane. Were on Initial Point. The the Navigator will drop the bombs for our absent Bombardier. We are on the IP Initial Point which is the bomb run. This is it. The pilot Beatty calls me and wants me to go the waist to see what is happening there. No chafe is falling from our plane. No one is shutting off the German's radar screen. The chafe is not blotting out the radar rays. The enemy has clear sight for his guns to fire at us. I walk through the bomb bay on the narrow catwalk, bomb bay doors wide open, wind blowing through the armed bombs. Two rows of bombs on both sides of the bomb bay. There is an 'eerie feeling as you walk pass the bombs. Will they hit the target or miss? Will any of them hang in the bomb bay and not drop out? Well that is another problem we do not have to think about until it happens. The Armament Sargent will take care of it, it is his job. I'm through the bomb bay into the plane's waist. Look around. I see the left waist gunner at his position at the waist window with the fifty caliber machine gun pointing out. Dunphy holding unto the guns handle ready to fire. No need to strain you eyes to sight enemy planes. They do not go in when the flak is thick and heavy. They will be waiting as we come out of the flak area. Ready to pounce on any plane which may have sustained a hit and Is damaged. An easy kill for a Messerschmitt. That's later.

Then I look to the right waist. The gunner is not there. He is at the opening which is used to throw out the chafe. There sitting is Armetta. Frozen. A blank stare. Just sitting. I yell George, George! No response? I pick him up. Shake him! Slowing he moves out of the way to the waist gunner's window having my chest parachute on I took it off and dropped it in the middle of the waist bay. I take the position at the opening and start throwing out the chafe.

Taking one handful after another throwing the chafe out of the opening. I plug in my head set and reported to the plane Captain what had happened. Armetta is out of action. He looks shell shocked. In a daze! I'm throwing out the chafe.

Split seconds later the flak hits the plane. A hole just to the right and slightly below me. A blast of orange and black fire ball is seen out of the hole. I bounce up. I'm hit. The calf of my left leg burns. My flight suit is ripped where I was hit. The flak hits number three engine at the same time. I call the Captain and report that I am hit. I slitter to the other side of the plane. Dunphy looks at me. Armetta stares. I sit and stare at my wound. Blood is oozing. I call the Captain for some medical attention. Radioman Earl Berquist comes to may aid. He asks me what t~ do! I say to get the battle kit, its really a large first aid kit with everything required for an emergency as we were in. He gets up and heads out to the cabin of the plane where the kit is located.

Feeling the plane's agony. I knew we were hit in NO 1 and No 3 engine. I feel the bomb bay doors being opened up by the auxiliary hydraulic system. I call to Lt. Beatty to drop the bombs. Drop the damn bombs. He said that we would do it over the target. I knew that he couldn't. The bomb bay doors would always slowly slide down. With the doors not in a fully open position the bombs would not be released. He was going over the target and drop the bombs. I called and told him to drop the bombs by the emergency handle. It was the only thing we could do to get home safely. Get rid of the load. Up goes the bomb bay doors using the precious hydraulic fluid. Not knowing how long I laid against the side of the plane. Time flies. Seconds tick away. Berquest is not returning with the battle kit. There is a burning sensation around the left calf. I hear a call from the Lieutenant. Where is the emergency bomb release? I call back it's on the right side. Put your hand down on your side. There is a red handle and pull it He says nothing is happening. I knew It! Damn him. He used up all the hydraulic fluid in the auxiliary system. The doors slid down and the bombs couldn't be released. By this tine I lost some blood and had to do something so I took off my head set and wrapped it around my thigh. I needed some morphine to kill the pain. I was going into shock. I must have passed out.

My eyes opened. I see someone jumping out of the side of the plane. They have opened the floor hatch to jump out. The turret gunner goes out. Dunphy jumps out, I yell for my parachute. I see Dowell coming out of the tail turret. I point to my chute. Dowell sees me and shoves the parachute towards me and jumps out. It's short. Two yards short. I give a twist on my head set which is a tourniquet around my thigh and crawl to the parachute. I reach the parachute and put it on my chest hooks. One hand on the headset tourniquet and crawl to the open floor hatch. Crawling inch by inch I Reached it. Now to get out! How! My left leg dragging. One hand on the tourniquet. I'm inching to the opening. I try to fall out backwards. I cannot do it. I'm not out far enough to drop out. That's it. Crawl over the opening. I stick my head out. Look down and back towards to tail of the plane. There I see the trees below me. How the hell high are we? I better get out fast. I pick myself up again and drag my leg out further. My left leg over my right leg to carry it. Stick my head out with one hand on the parachute release. The slipstream catches me and drags me out of the plane. As soon as I feel the slip stream dragging me out of the plane I started counting. One ,two, three, I feel a crack and a thud. The crack was my compound fracture of my upper tight as I was swept out of the plane and hit against the open floor hatch. The thud was me hitting the tail section of the plane jackknifing me as I hit the hatch. Passing out. Lucky for me I recovered quickly. Still talking to myself. Eight, nine, ten. Pulling the ripcord. As I am falling the chute opens with a jolt. I look up the line are OK. I look ahead. I'm going forward. I see my plane hitting close to a farm house. Then a loud explosion. A big billowing black cloud.

Today, I say, it looked like the first explosion of the Atom Bomb. I'll never forget the sight. The plane blew up with the bombs and fuel. I going to hit the ground forward I cannot do that I cannot stand on my feet when I hit. I must turn around and land backwards. Got to twist the shroud lines to turn around and land backwards so no more damage would not happen to my leg. I grab the line and gave them a twist. I passed out. Thank God I passed out. I did not feel hitting the ground. I had landed safely.

Don't know how long I was on the ground. At a distance I thought I heard voices. I yelled help! Help! Raised my head I could see a ring of blue denims in a circle. They were closing in on me. Passed out. I came to. They were around me someone shoved something under my head. I knew some were Frenchmen and Poles. I heard the language. Tried to speak to them in my high school French. Don't know what I said. Next thing I see some German soldier pointing a gun at me. He fired. Thud! The round did not go Off. The bullet did not fire. Thanks God again. A scuffle started. A POW Frenchman intervened. Stopping the German from letting the second round go off. It might have been the bullet that was to end my life; but it was not to be. Just then the Luftwaffle stepped up. That ended the skirmish. The Officers looked at me. Wounded. Bleeding and in pain. Next I heard that there was a truck and I was to be carried to it. Passed out again. They must have lifted me unto the two wheel cart which the farmer used to carry manure to the fields. Looking up! Lo and behold who do I meet. A farmer with a pitchfork. The pitchfork being held high and aiming at me with hands on the farmer preventing him from skewing me. I was advised that he was the farmer whose house the plane blew up and destroyed. The plane fell to close to his home. They got the farmer off the cart. Passed out. Do not know how I got from the field to the road. The next thing I remember is seeing a truck in from of me. They picked me up and loaded me on the truck. There I saw Dunphy and Dowel. I asked how the others were. One has a sprained ankle and the rest were OK so they thought. We all were captured. The trucked rolled on.

It was Sunday, who expected a raid on Sunday. They took me into a hospital. Lazarrette C-1O I found out later. My home until I was repatriated. I passed out for I do not remember be taken out of truck into the operating room. I'm on the operating table waiting for the doctors to come. They all are out watching a soccer game in the prison exercise area. A Doctor comes in looks at me. Who is going to take care of me? Bone or a Flesh Doctor. Asked me who I was ? Being smart! I gave my name as George Zybort, Sargent, 11036284. Maine, rank and serial number. That's all. Kept it up for a long time. Doctors wanted to know more about me for medical reasons. Stubborn me. All they got was Gorge Zybort, Sargent,11036284 Passed out. They worked on me in a passed out state. I was all bandaged up. From my chest all the way down to my left leg and down my right leg to my knee. They had a wooden brace between the two knees. The calf and toes of my right leg was uncovered. I was mummified. This was the beginning of my hospital stay.

This is the beginning of my stay at Lazarette C-1O, Sandbostel, Germany. My home from August 6, 1944 to the day of my repatriation in February 1945.

What happened in the Lazarette and my months of imprisonment. I remember being on an operation table with he Doctor's around me. Trying to talk me into telling more than my rank, name and serial number. They said it was for the Red Cross so that they can inform the military of my state of health and the condition I was in. I did not say more than name, rank and serial number for some tine. Then the other prisoners advised me what to say and to tell my correct name.

There was a Captain G. Turner, Air Force Pilot, who flew a P51 raid. He was about 6' 4". He said he had a tough time getting into the fighter aircraft. Cannot remember his injury. But do remember the blood he gave me. There were others who gave me blood. He was tall blonde and good looking.

While on the operating table, must have been a day or two later, the Doctor gave me a handful of flak, I believe he said he had removed seventeen pieces from my body. The Doctor's name was Zoran Kamenkovic,Petrovgrad, Branat, Jugoslavia. Talking together I found out that he was the Prince Consort's personal physician. He had the opportunity to leave the prison camp but preferred to stay until all the prisoners were gone. He and I became good friends. Dr Zoran's associate, Milutive Zazarewic, Beograd, Glavina Vojna, Bolnica, was another fine doctor. He was the head orthopedic Surgeon in the Belgrade Hospital. Those two were responsible for my health and I owe my life to them. They are the one's who took care of me. Dr Zoran smoked a cigarette in a long stem holder and held it between the thumb and first finger with the palm of his hand up. He was tall and stately in contrast to Dr Milutive who was short and portly. They always made the rounds together.

When they carried me from the operating room to my bed in the hospital, I found myself on a bed which looked like a cot with straw for my mattress with a sheet covering it. There I looked around to see who my bed patients were. I remember so few of them. A Captain or Lieutenant O'Sullivan with whom I still communicate. That is My Wife Mildred does all the writing and sending out the Christmas cards. He was shot down and parachuted out. While coming down he hurt his leg and was captured. Reggie was a fighter pilot. He was from Connecticut my home state. Lieutenant Frank (I do not remember his last name) but, he was a flying Sargent in Hawaii during the Pearl Harbor Days. He said he remembered December 7, 1941 very well. He was sent over to fly in the European Combat area and was made Lieutenant. He told us some good airplane stories with all the gremlins. There was a Canadian by the name of Poole, I believe he was from around Toronto. He thought the Red Cross Package we receive about two months later should be shared with him. But I was told this came from the American Red Cross and that he would receive his from the Canadian Red Cross. I couldn't understand it but it was the rule. We did share some of the food with him.

The orderly was GARRI MARCEL a Frenchman, a poor peasant farmer with a heart of gold. Very helpful and took good care of me. He was always doing something for me. He lived in Northwest France. I have his blood also.

There was a Belgium Doctor by the name of GOSSENS, who looked after me, I do not know why he was in the prison camp. He shared his blood with me. A Belgium European

Big Boy was the name I knew him by. He said he was in America in Chicago. Somehow he went back to Yugoslavia In the Serb region as he was a Serbian. He said he had a relative living in America by the name of Toby Tryczlnski, 1723 E. Bennett Avenue, Milwaukee, Wis. He was the Con Man of the camp. He could do everything and not get caught. He is the one who made moonshine out of raisins and sugar we receive in our Red Cross Packages. We would save all we could and at Christmas have a blast. I waited for that day.

There was another Doctor but I do not remember much about him but I do know that I have his blood. Maybe it will be recalled later. I believe he was Serbian or Italian.

I remember the old German Guard who was in his late 60's guarding our compound with an empty rifle. Remember once he was sitting on my bed recalling the events of the first and second wars. I always wondered why we sided with the English and not with the Germans. I stated it was because Hitler started the WAR and we were helping our friends. He said that the Germans were good friends with the Americans. He couldn't help what Hitler was doing. The Germans conscripted him into service. I remember when Dr Zoran told him that I needed meat very badly and to see what could he do. He said for a package of cigarettes he could get a some Chicken. That He did. But if he got caught he would be brought before the firing squadron and shot for aiding a prisoner. I still can see the old man with his head-bent down trodding in and out of our barracks. Something like Sargent Schultz in the movie Stalag 17 or Hogan Heroes.

In the barrack which they called a hospital, I laid day in and day out. Not knowing what was happening. My fever running high. The doctors were taking care of my wounds.

The Commandant of the Hospital came to visit or inspect the barracks. He came to me and asked my name. I gave him the same name, rank and serial number. He smiled, and walked away. He came in every so often and always asked how I was and felt. Some how during one of the conversations the blood requirement came up. He said he couldn't give me German Blood because they were running short for their own wounded soldiers. I had to do the best with the blood available in the prison camp. Every time he came in he told how the German's were winning the war. This was before the Battle of the Bulge. Big Boy had a radio outside of the camp and he would hear the news and tell us. But during the Battle of the Bulge he did not show up. We did not hear anymore as to the outcome of the War.

Garri Marcel told me that since my arrival, things had turned around for the better. They said the Commandant took a liking to me. It was the stubbornness of the patient who only gave his name ,rank and serial number. I remember once he took his gloves, beautiful black, soft skinned and gave a light slap on the side of my face. I thought it was something bad. But the prisoners said that it was a good omen.

Being in bed one day, they took me out to the operating room. I remember it by being a Sunday. The Doctors had to change the bandages. They had to cut the cast. My left leg pained me around the ankle. They cut off the cast and redressed my wound. They replaced the plaster-of-paris cast. They used 100 rolls of plaster-of-paris. The camp was permitted to have 125 rolls of plaster for the month. I do not know what happened if they needed more for some other person. They said it would be all right and that they would do something it more was needed. They carried me back to the hospital barracks. I never will forget that.

In the barracks they had an old record player. The records would be played over and over and over. The Toy Soldier, The Songs of the Student Prince. The William Tell Overture, and a few others.

Many a time I would cry for the pain in my left ankle. One day my leg was turning blue as the tip of my toes on my leg was exposed. The Doc Zoran decided to open a vent at the ankle location, a hole in the cast was made exposing my left ankle it did relieve the pain.

Being in the hospital a patient was awarded a specific amount of food. I remember eating skunk cabbage soup. They were leaves we in America see in a swampy area. The Bread was the crust of black German bread. The soup had potato peelings to give body. This was our daily ration. When I was shot, I did weight a good 180#. My lowest weight was in November weighing 85#. I was in good physical condition. Before the service I was weight lifting. I could clean and jerk about 250#. One hand clean and jerk 150#. Bench press close to 300#. Yes in good physical condition. That is why I survived the time spent in prison camp.

Looking out of the Hospital window the prisoners saw a dog fight. They pushed my bed by the window so I could see it. It was unbelievable. A Jet Messershnitte going after a P51. The American plane was in a dive going as fast as he could. The jet came up to him like a bat out of hell and shot him up. The American plane just couldn't get out of the Messershmittes way. It was the first tine that I saw the Germans used jets. The Jets could stay in the air for five minutes only. They couldn't do long air battles or dogfights for they had to land to fly another day.. They were not advanced yet to fly long in the air.

How do you think I got the news that they were to amputate my leg? Dr. Zoran came to my bedside, I believe it was November 11, 1944. He talked to me in Polish for he spoke many languages. Asked how I felt. Telling the history of my injury. He said they worked bard and did everything they could. That the gangrene was creeping up and they did not know how to stop it with the medication they had. Maybe with penicillin it would help me out. But they do not have any. Tey asked the Red Cross for some for me but they did not receive any. Didn't know whether they would receive any. He said since August they worked hard. The gangrene is very high up in my leg and the open thigh wound wasn't getting better. He asked me whether I would like to be a leg less son or a dead hero. For if the gangrene got Into my bloodstream I was certainly to die. I raised my hand and said leg less son. He took my hand and held it. We both cried. The next morning they took me to the operating room and put me on the operating table. I certainly felt weak. I remember Dr. Gossens holding a sieve over my mouth and nose and pouring ether. They told me to count backwards from a 100. I started 100,99,98,97, then I choked on the amount of ether they poured in the sieve, 96, I was under. That is all I remember until a few days later. They told me that I had to be restrained. I was trying to get up on my legs. I said I wanted to get up and walk. That was a unknown reaction. I didn't try to get up until they amputated my leg. I asked were the leg was and what did they do to it. They said it was buried in the cemetery.

The cemetery! What was it? It was a place where thousands of prisoners who died were buried. While in the prison camp I heard of someone being buried every day.

Being in camp I remember a day when some of the American prisoners were out for their exercise. A soldier threw a cigarette Into a no-mans area. The Russian prisoners were separated from the rest of the prisoners by a dual fence. The Russians had WWI garb. I heard that the Germans saved the clothes which the German prisoners of war had while they were in Russia prisoner camp.

That is the way the Russian prisoners were dressed. When the Allied prisoner flipped the cigarette. It fell short of the second fence. As the Russian stretched to get the cigarette a shot rang out, The German guard watching the area just shot the Russian in the hip. The Russian yelled in great pain. I later heard that his hip was shattered. At night I could hear his screams coning out of the operating room. There was no love lost between the Russians and the Germans.

Reading my medical report which I received lately gave me much insight to my stay in Lazarette C-10.

The area was controlled by the German 10th Army. Hospital of Sandbostel Principal Register of patients No. 6 172-6033

Designation of sickness:

A. Open comminuted fracture of the lower half thigh.

Gunshot fracture of the lower half of the left leg.

Knee Injury left. Open capsule of the knee-joint.

Osteomyelitis of the tibia.

B. Finding at the time of admission Tall, strongly developed, well nourished, very pale and weak, Pulse slowed down and barely perceptible. He loses consciousness upon lifting the head. Shocked to a high degree, exsanguime. The left leg bound with two lateral wooden splints, severely suffused with blood. On the outer side of both arms some small superficial wounds. Small aluminum splinters protrude from some of them. Same removed. Dressing. On the front side of the left thigh, in the upper third, one sees a small punctured wound, with softened areas of the size of a mark coin, extravagated with blood. A areas all object can be felt subcutaneously. An aluminum splinter removed by means of incision. Left open. The left thigh is pathologically movable in the center and crepitates. On the outer side of the lower third one sees a soiled wound shredded edges, 5cm. long and 3cm wide bleed lightly. Right under the same one feels a sharp fragement of bone, very mobile. The wound appears to have been caused by the fragment. On the anterior median side of the lower half of the left leg one sees a gunshot wound with crater-shaped defect and the size of a fist, lacerated and shredded edges from which shell splinters and pieces of clothing protrude.

That is my admission report made at the prison camp.

I received my first blood transfusion on 8-6-1944 from Serbian Chief Surgeon, Dr. Popovic 200CC.
The second blood transfusion from Italian War Prisoner Laudi.
On 9-2/44 the third blood transfusion was for roboration furnished by Dr. Samuel, French Chief Surgeon. 200 cc type 0.
On 9/5/44 Another blood transfusion 200 cc type 0 by Garri Marcel.
On 10/10/44 blood transfusion 200 cc furnished by Dr. Gossens. For stimulative action. Temperature 39.8 C 10/14/44 temperature 40 C.
10/23/44 Patient was brought before the mixed medical commission and it decided that he be sent home. They decided that I was too sick to travel and a fear that the patient would not make it. Delayed.
10/31/44 for the sixth time since the beginning a blood transfusion furnished by the Frenchman Saint Garry. 210cc type 0.
11/5/44 B. T 300 cc type 0 by French prisoner Gosse.
11/6/44 Report today fully three months have elapsed since the injury had fever almost the entire tine. 0 late particularly high. As this constitutes a danger to the organism, as any local improvement is not to be attained, a high amputation is absolutely unavoidable. The great surgeon Prof. Ochlecker, who happened to be in the hospital for inspection, and to whom the case was submitted for an opinion, is decidedly in favor of the amputation because, in his opinion, in addition to the two places of fracture which still continue t90 suppurate heavily, the knee-joint also contributes to the septic development, in view of which he deems a knew resection imperative which, in view of the general and local conditions, cannot be carried out. I do not know what the above "Cannot be carried out" meant because the next day they had me scheduled for an operation as noted.

11/7/44 OPERATION: OP. : Dr. Kamenkovic
Asst. Dr. Huc; Dr. Gossens; Dr. Popovic Narc. Dr. Grischln
Ether 100 gr.

11/8/44 Temperature 40.
11/9/44 B.T. 200 cc Type 0 furnished by French prisoner Murraticle
11/10/44 collapse in the night
11/11/44 Temp 40 C
11/13/44 Report At 5 P.M. with a slight strain in giving the drop by drop clyster, the patient began to complain of nausea, he was overcome by weakness and lost consciousness for three minutes. Later he became very pale. There is bleeding from necrotic v. femoralis which has been caused by the wound infection. The loss of blood amounts to about 500 cc. The vein was fixed at once, 2-3 times, as the brittle vascular tissue rendered fixation difficult. In the vessel proper there was an old thrombus. Ligature of the feaural vein and artery with four ligatures and ligature bandage. later.
Blood Tranfusion.(No 9 and 10 )
Furnished by French Prisoner of War Delaby 200 cc type 0
Furnished by U. S. Prisoner Of War, Flier, Capt. Turner Type 0 200 cc.
The patient complains of feeling cold. Blood Pressure 75/40 Light dizziness. The wound: like yesterday, moderate suppuration. The light dizziness, the low blood pressure, as well as the amount of blood lost through the bleeding which has come to light, bespeaks an anemic condition. Yesterday's hemorrhage must have been more profuse than estimated. Thereupon : th.: Coramine 1.1 cm and another Blood Transfusion:
Furnished by French Prisoner of War Lafitte. Type 0 200 300 cu.m. (No. 11)
Furnished by Belgian War Prisoner Deridoux Group 0 200cc (No. 12)
11/18/44 Internist's Examination (French Dr. Huc) During the last few days, the general condition of the patient has been governed by the condition of the wound. On November 12, 1944, one could think of a spontaneous improvement, but the patient suffered a sudden severe hemorrhage, and for that reason the blood pressure, which was about 125/60, suddenly fell to 70/40. Two urgent blood transfusions (500 cc). Later the Blood Pressure rose to 105/50.
11/20/44 In the amputation wound, nothing. of particular note only, the femoral vessel stump, recently tied up following the hemorrhage, there was ligated from the scarpal foss the artery and the femoral vein Isolated. As it was attempted to go too high, pus was encountered. Thereupon tampon and the wound was left open. As a kidney injury is present, the dose of elendron is fixed at 5 gr.
11/21/44 During the night abundant fluid flowed from the fresh wound. (where the ligature had been applied). It looks as If retention had emptied itself which arose from between the adductor and anatriceps group of the amputated wound.
12/1/44 The last rubber drain was stopped by a long blood clot. Washed out by irrigation.
12/10/44 Began today local application of penicillin in for of irrigation and wet application over the wound surface. A solution of 80cc. with four tabi. of 4,750 units each day. Twice a day. This is where I started to recover from my injury. I was receiving Digitalis lanatana.
12/28/44 On the granulation surface there is still a small wound infection present. for two days pentcillin,m in addition to irrigation and dakin solution applications. No fever. General condition is good, rapid improvement.


I was on my way to health. My repatriation orders cane in:

Sandbostel, January 5, 1945 War prisoner- Stanley ZYBORT, identification No. 106-701 XB, an American was declared to be unfit for service by reason of superior fracture of the lower half of the left leg. (amputation ) and was discharged to return Home.

- Signed: By: Chief Staff Surgeon.