Wine has seen many bizarre twists of fate, but none more so than the tale of two downed P-51s and their pilots during and after World War-II.
While on a 1986 sojourn in
southwest France, a love of fine wine put me in touch with
Monsieur Guy Schyler, a distinguished Bordeaux wine négociant
and consultant to Chateau Lafite-Rothchild, arguably, the
greatest vineyard of the Medoc. Kindly, Guy had arranged a
private tour of Lafite for my wife and myself.
Traveling through the famous vineyard towns of Margaux, Beychevelle, St. Julien, and Pauillac, it was a treat for me to see the renowned chateaux, so often read about - but whose product was so less often savored.
Schylers have been prominent members of the Bordeaux wine trade since 1739, and along the way Guy stopped at Chateau Beychevelle, with its lovely filigreed iron gates hinged to massive stone pillars. Gazing wistfully down the long gravel drive to the magnificent 18th century Chateau, he revealed his great grandfather had once owned this renowned estate and contemplated what might have been.
Learning Madame Schyler was a member of the prestigious Pol-Roger champagne family of Épernay, made it even more intriguing. Pol Roger champagne was Winston Churchill's favorite. Once, in a gesture of appreciation, he named one of his race horses for his friend, Odette Pol-Roger. Sadly, the filly was not a speedster.
My enthusiasm for fine wine does not translate to profound knowledge, and I hoped not to make a fool of myself while discussing it with Guy. However, my stock soared, when he learned I had been a sixty-mission P-47 pilot and a P.O.W. in Germany. He had been a fighter pilot in the French Air Force until France's fall in 1940, and following the war he had served with distinction as French liaison to the U.S.A.F. in Bordeaux. It was the start of a lifelong fondness for American airmen. I count myself fortunate, he calls me - "tres cher ami."
In February 1990 my wife and I arrived in Bordeaux on the way to Biarritz for several months stay. Later we would join the 36th Fighter Group tour of our wartime airfields. While lunching with Guy, he told us of two P-51s that had recently emerged from the sand on the beach near Arcachon, west of Bordeaux. They had belly landed in 1944, and wind and sea had buried them. Now, forty-six years later, the same elements had brought these phantom aircraft back to view and memory.
He related how on August
26, 1944 three P-51s were seen by members of the Marquis or
French Resistance cruising around Arcachon Bay, then up and down
the coast, as if lost. One flew out to sea and disappeared; the
other two landed at a spot known as Truc Vert.
Responding to the request of the head of the local Marquis to investigate, Schyler contacted his friend and neighbor, Prince Stanislav Poniatowski, and the two set out by sail across the bay to aid the downed fliers.
Prince Stanislav was a remarkable gentleman. Though a descendant of the royal family of Poland and a pretender to that throne, he was an astute businessman who suffered badly under the Germans. As C.E.O. of the renowned aircraft engine manufacturer, Hispano-Suiza, he was jailed in Paris, then Berlin, for refusing to produce engines for the Nazis. During his military court trial, he escaped severe punishment only through a remarkable bit of luck.* He was freed on condition that he cease all industrial activities, and went to Arcachon in November 1940 under house arrest. Nevertheless, in spite of the risk of deportation and worse for himself and family, he joined the underground.
Reaching the downed planes, Schyler and Poniatowski took the two pilots, Lieutenants Sam Gevorkian and John Kester, in hand, and together they scrambled up and over the dunes. There they were met by the Marquisards and loaded into a truck for the ride back to the boat. The four sailed back to Arcachon, where Prince Stanislav hid Gevorkian and Kester in his home for twelve days.
Guy then took them to his grandmother's, Mme. Guestier of
the renowned house of Barton & Guestier [B&G], home in
Bordeaux. There they stayed several days making plans for their
escape through Spain, to Portugal,
and back to England.
The pilots related
the circumstances of their forced landings as follows: Returning
from an escort mission to Ludwigshafen in bad weather, the three
P-51s became separated from the main formation. Lost, they
mistook the Gironde estuary for the Loire, and could not locate
themselves. Low on fuel, Gevorkian and Kester opted to belly land
on the beach at Truc Vert. The third pilot, 1st Lieutenant Sam
Hansard, mistaking the Bay of Biscay for the English Channel,
headed out over the open Atlantic. He was not heard from again.
One can only shudder at the horror he felt, upon discovering his
error.
Completing the saga, Guy showed me the extraordinary
photographs he had taken in 1944 of the downed planes and the
pilots' rescue. Examining them, it occurred, if I could learn the
squadron's designation from the plane's ''CL" markings in
the photo, we could contact the Group veterans' organization.
Perhaps, Gevorkian and Kester were members? The prospect was
exciting.
From our villa in Biarritz, I called Colonel Lewis "Bull" Curry, former C.O. of my 36th Fighter Group, for help. He succeeded, advising that Gevorkian and Kester had been members of the 55th Fighter Group, 338 Fighter Squadron of 8th Air Force. Further, he had contacted Bob Littlefield in Carmel, Ca., who headed the Group veterans' organization. I passed the information on to Guy and told him I'd follow up with Littlefield when I returned home.
Later, when the 36th Fighter Group tour reached Épernay, near one of our old fields, we were met by Christian and Danielle Pol-Roger, and their British friend, Richard Dumbrill. What a day was planned for us! First, a champagne reception, Vin d'Honneur, at Chateau Pol Roger.
Next, we were taken by a grand convoy of French Army armored personnel carriers to a small airport for a magnificent champagne luncheon. With sommelier, Odil Girardin, pouring, there wasn't a dry glass in the house!
Following the luncheon French Air Force Raphaels performed a spectacular fly-by for us. Then we went on in the APCs to the site of our old strip for dedication ceremonies and then to Tour-sur-Marne for more ceremonies and a final glass of champagne for "Auld Lang Syne." It was a never-to-be-forgotten day for the anciens warriors of the 36th Fighter Group.
Without the friendship of Guy and Nicole Schyler, it could never have happened!
Back in
Montana, a letter from Bob Littlefield revealed that both Sam
Gevorkian and John Kester had later been killed. However, he did
have good news. Sam's sister, Alice Davey, lived in California.
He thought a letter from Guy, along with the long ago
photographs, would be a wonderful surprise. I forwarded his
suggestion on to Guy, hoping he would respond. Of course, he did.
It was sometime before we heard from Mrs. Davey, but when her response came it was all we could have hoped for. She was astonished and grateful for what we had done, particularly for the photos and fascinating detail of her brother's 1944 rescue.
For Guy and myself, when we next meet, over a bottle of Ch.
Lafite-Rothschild, we shall raise our glasses in tribute:
"Salut! pilotes du chasses, Sam Gevorkian et John
Kester - and your 'Phantoms in the Sand.'"
********************
*The mother of Prince Stanislav Poniatowski in Phantoms In The Sand was a Crocker from the famous San Francisco banking family. The prosecutor, during Poniatowski’s trial in Berlin, was quite familar with Crocker family and was the reason Poniatowski was able to get off as easily as he did. —P.N.W.
PONIATOWSKI— Name of Polish princely family of Italian origin, including: Prince Stanislav Poniatowski (1676-1762), general and diplomat; joined Charles XII of Sweden in support of Stanislav Leszczynski in Great Northern War (1700-21); after war reconciled with Augustus II; grand treasurer of Lithuania (1722); commander in chief of Polish army (1728 ff.).
His son, STANISLAV II AUGUSTUS, also called Stanislav Poniatowski (1732-98), became last king of Poland (1764-79). A member of a prominent Polish family, Stanislav was elected king with the backing of Catherine the Great of Russia, and his reign was marked by successive partitions of Poland by Russia, Austria, and Prussia. He attempted to enact reforms and correct the weaknesses that made the country vulnerable to foreign intervention but had little success. With the third partition in 1795 and the disappearance of Poland as an independent nation, Stanislav abdicated the throne and went into exile at Saint Petersburg, where he spent the rest of his life engaged in correspondence and in writing his memoirs.
2002.01.13, © WW II Ace Stories.