THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, August 13, 1995 TAG: 9508130638
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: NORTH CAROLINA
SOURCE: BY PAUL SOUTH, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 128 lines
In his last letter home, Lt. Richmond Wollstein Jr. mused about his future. A 23-year-old pilot in the Army Air Corps 446th Bomb Group, Wollstein wrote of his desire to fly in the civilian world, and of what the post-war world would be like.
It was July 31, 1944.
``One of my biggest worries right now is about what I'm going to do after all this is over,'' wrote the Rome, Ga., native, pilot of ``The Wild Princess.''
``I think I still want to go to South America. I believe that's where the future is. I definitely want to keep flying, but so do 100,000 other pilots. I don't know what's going to come of all this.
``I do know this is going to be over sooner than the layman thinks - at least the European phase . . . Joe Stalin is marching along in a blitz like never before, with more significance than most realize. Our Normandy campaign is still in its infant stage, but the month of August will bring some startling news.''
On Aug. 13, two weeks after writing what would be his last letter home, Richmond Wollstein Jr.'s B-24 was shot down over northern France.
It took 51 years and the work of a family friend to free Richmond Wollstein Jr.'s story from a black hole of history.
And at 10:30 this morning, in simple ceremonies at the Wright Brothers National Memorial, the family of First Lt. Richmond Wollstein Jr. will accept the Distinguished Flying Cross in his memory.
For them, the questions and the war will be over at last.
It ended for Richmond Wollstein as his plane was tumbling toward Earth in the summer of '44. He stayed at the controls, along with his co-pilot, and steered the plane away from other crewmen who had parachuted. His quick thinking saved their lives.
``We had planned to get together at Christmas,'' said Leo Wollstein, Richmond's younger brother, then serving in the Navy. ``I got home, and pressed my mother on why Richmond didn't come home. She finally told me he had been missing in action since August.''
Retired insurance investigator Patrick Maher of Vallejo, Calif., worked with family members to bring Richmond Wollstein's story to light. The information led the Department of Defense to award Wollstein with the medal.
Maher knows well what transpired on the day Wollstein was killed. It was his 28th mission, two away from the magic number 30, and a ticket back to Georgia.
Skies were clear and bright.
``It was a good day for flying,'' Maher said. ``But it was also a good day for German anti-aircraft.''
The 466th Bomb Group of the Eighth Air Force took off from Attlebridge Air Station in England. The mission was to stop the retreat of German Forces who were attempting to escape advancing allied troops through what would become known as ``Patton's Pass.''
The first drop from ``The Wild Princess'' was successful. With half their payload gone, the aircraft was 45 seconds away from its second drop when it was hit.
The pilot was 5-foot-8 and lacked the looks of Hollywood's fighter pilots. But his life was the stuff of legend.
``He was a guy who had everything to live for,'' said Maher. ``He was president of his fraternity at Little Rock Junior College. He dated the prettiest girl on campus. His family is a classic Southern family that's full of charm and grace, everything you'd want them to be. If ever there was a guy who had a reason to come home, it was Rich Wollstein.''
Leo Wollstein remembers his brother's fondness for shooting pool.
``He loved to play billiards,'' Wollstein said.``He was an excellent player. Everybody loved Rich Jr.''
And despite his stature, he quickly won the respect of his peers aboard the ``Wild Princess.'' Charles Vejda was radio operator of the aircraft.
``I was 6-foot-4,'' Vejda told Maher. ``And when I first saw him, I wondered about this little guy. But every time I saw him he got taller and taller.''
From military diaries and debriefing reports, the fate of Richmond Wollstein is chronicled in painstaking detail. Once hit by German gunners, the aircraft burst into flames. Norman Clark, the right waist gunner, immediately bailed out of the aircraft. So did Vejda and Sgt. Albert Pittman. They were assisted by a French family who helped them avoid capture, hiding them from the Nazis. Four other crewmen who parachuted, including Lt. Fred Reibe, were taken prisoner and repatriated after the war.
Pittman recalled what he saw after his chute opened, and he descended toward an uncertain future.
``It is my belief that either the pilot (Wollstein) or co-pilot (James B. Smith) or both were still alive as the ship was falling, else I would have been hit by the falling craft,'' Pittman wrote. ``The ship was coming straight toward me and made a pronounced turn a short distance from me.''
Wollstein's efforts helped keep the plane stable and allowed his crew to escape.
Maher and his wife were friends of Wollstein's sister. Years after World War II was over, Maher asked the sister:
``What happened to your brother?'' She replied that all she knew was that he was a pilot who was shot down over France.
Maher, encouraged by Wollstein's mother to find out what happened, started the successful search.
What that means to the family is summed up in the words of Bombardier Fred Riebe in a letter to Rich Wollstein's mother.
The date was July 15, 1945.
``I can only try to tell you how much I thought of Richmond. I don't know if you realize how big a job being a first pilot is. The responsibility is terrible . . . He was a great skipper. We all had absolute faith in him. . .
``He died the way he wanted, at the controls of a bomb run . . . Richmond really believed in the cause.''
Later he wrote, ``You can always be proud of him, Mrs. Wollstein. He died so that others may live. You know, I'm sure, the passage `greater love hath no man than that he lay down his life for another.' I'm alive today, because your son made it possible.''
Today the Wollstein family will gather at the Wright Memorial, a site chosen because their young lieutenant loved to fly. Even after 51 years, Pat Maher believes Richmond Wollstein Jr.'s story should be told.
``Young people of today should know about good young men like Lt. Richmond S. Wollstein, who gave their lives on the battlefronts of World War II, so that succeeding generations everywhere could enjoy responsible freedom.'' ILLUSTRATION: Photos
The crew of the ``Queen of Hearts,'' a B-24 bomber, was commanded by
1st Lt. Richmond Wollstein. Wollstein landed the disabled plane July
17, 1944. Almost a month later, Wollstein sacrificed his life
guiding another bomber, ``The Wild Princess,'' away from parachuting
crewmen.
Richmond Wollstein Jr.
by CNB