The Tenth Mission - Part V - Internment in Switzerland

Arden and three men from his aircrew are finally safe in Switzerland and in the hands of Swiss authorities but the adventure is not over.

"Velcome to Switzerland! For you the Var is over"

They spread out a lovely lunch right there, but after the recent gorging we weren't very hungry! They told us in broken English that we must hurry as we had a long way to go. We all groaned. The men wore skis that had a sort of short clipped hide on the bottom with the hair pointing back that enabled them to climb up a hill on them...and those beautiful green costumes.

By mid afternoon we arrived at a small settlement and were taken to one of the larger chalets. The people lived on the top floor and the animals on the bottom. We were offered food again, and we all ate lightly - we were just too tired to eat. Finally a man in civilian clothing arrived, and after unsuccessfully trying to explain who he was, the boys in green finally grinned and said, "Swiss F.B.I." That we understood.

Our Swiss F.B.I. "speedball" started us off down that endless mountain once again. He had us going almost at a trot. At one point I fell and just laid there. He came back waving his arms and pointed to his watch. I got mad, but got up and we all tried to keep up. After nightfall we arrived at another habitation and were fed and housed in barracks along with 15 to 20 of the civilian militiamen soldiers. Awakened early, we were marched off rapidly again by old "speedball."

Late that morning we arrived at a small town and were taken to the train station. People, naturally, stared at us. We were in Bludenz. The beautiful little train rolled up. We boarded here, and away she went. Later as we were being taken to the diner car for lunch, we saw some strange looking soldiers in gray green uniforms. The men were obviously in the middle of their meal when we walked in, but their "speedball" had them all get up and leave the car immediately. We objected, but our man just smiled and said, "Germans." We had no intention of engaging the enemy at that moment.

Somewhere between Bludenz and Zurich that night we were housed in a small hotel - hosted by a Swiss Army Captain who spoke perfect English and eleven other languages as well.

Upon entering our hotel room, Ken and I immediately began rifling dresser drawers. Suddenly, we both realized what we were doing and we sad down and laughed our heads off. Once a scavenger, always a scavenger!

That evening we met up with our tough little beer drinking tail gunner Franklin Wartman. He had made it out alone, but had landed inside Switzerland.

Next day we caught the train to Zurich, and up arrival were invited to lunch as guests of the Swiss. Most unusual. We were wined and dined royally. A very charming gentleman plied us liberally with booze and all the while questioned us not too subtly about our new "Mickey" ships (radar controlled bombing). We were cooperative, about helping to dispose of his liquor. But we never told him anything useful; not because we were so darned smart or sober, but because none of us had ever been near a Mickey ship.

The official record shows that we arrived at the American Embassy in Switzerland on March 2nd. We bailed out on February 5th.

I was interviewed by U.S. Marine Master Sgt. Hunter - in his spendiferous blue uniform with white belt and battle ribbons and hash marks that wouldn't quit. He took one look at me standing there in clothing I hadn't been out of in four weeks, hair down to my collar and scraggly beard, and said, "Air Force. I see. I think we're going to lose this war."

He began to read my file. I said, "If I had my 45 I'd shoot you right between the eyes." He looked up, smiled and said, "I wouldn't blame you if you did, Irish." From that moment, Sgt. Hunter became a great friend.

I weighed in at 127 pounds, and was startled to realize that I had lost 33 pounds. Nothing fit.

Still in Zurich...a few days later we were at dinner and someone came in with a whoop and holler, saying, "We're being repatriated." I thought it was too bad that I didn't have a dictionary. If I did, I would have known what he was saying. He continued, "We're being turned loose - they're releasing nine Germans for every one of us, and that's a fair trade." (This was never substantiated, and may not be true.)

The American Legation General Legg threw a party to end all parties in the largest Zurich hotel. After the wonderful party, all of us 1,700 American internees were poured onto a train to Geneva - through customs - out on a train platform on the American captured French side. Technically we were not under the jurisdiction of the United States Army in Switzerland - we were civilians.

I had an inkling that all was not well when I saw an American Army jeep roar up. Inside was a stony faced Infantry Captain and Master Sergeant. The Captain never acknowledged us in any way. (We might as well have been enemy prisioners.) He just sat there.

The Sergeant reached over to the back seat, took out a power megaphone, tested it, and in a southern drawl, said, "Gentlemen, may I have your kind attention, as I have an important announcement. (You could have heard a pin drop). You are now back in the United States Army, so fall in."

Author A.O. (Lanny) Lannigan got his 30 day leave at the end of the Tenth Mission in June of 1945. "I don't think I was ever happier in my life," he said. "Good cooking, family talks. Boy, it was great to get home." While recovering at an Army post in Spokane, he met at Pasco girl at a U.S.O. dance - Jan Banks - who would later be his wife. He kept in contact with his war buddy and partner, Kenneth Hoffman.

This article was used with the permission of his wife, Jan, and his son, Dan.

Arden passed away October 16, 2006.