Greek / American Operational Group Office of Strategic Services (OSS)
Memoirs of World War 2

The Bump

Inadvertently I became a hero with the natives of Vis because my head was bandaged the day after the Solta raid.

As a youngster I had a bump the size of a marble at the back of my head. My parents were apprehensive and refused to have it surgically removed. Whenever I would severely bump the "marble", it would become the size of a walnut for a few days and then revert back to its original size. Once, while spinning around inside the Rolling Barrel at the Play Land at the Beach fun house in San Francisco I fell directly on the bump. This time it not only grew larger; it hurt like the dickens. My buddies nicknamed me the bump. Through the years I was careful not to bruise the bump, but while participating in sports, there were times when I would hit the bump and it would swell.

Throughout the Army and OSS training I rarely wore my helmet for long periods of time and had no trouble with the bump. Whenever we had the opportunity we wore only the helmet liner which was much lighter.

During the two days we were on the Solta raid, I never removed my helmet from my head. When I returned to Vis my bump had not only swollen to walnut size; I could not wear my helmet because of the pain. Worried that I would not be able to wear my helmet in future combat raids, I contacted our medical doctor, Captain George Markoutsos, who examined me and told me I had a wen on my head; the first time my bump had been diagnosed and identified. He suggested that I should have the wen removed, advising me it would be a simple operation. I agreed and within a few minutes he removed my bump, placed it in a jar of alcohol and bandaged my head. Alex, who recalled my fall in the Rolling Barrel, had accompanied me to the doctor.

When we walked out of Dr. Markoutsos' office onto the streets of Vis, the Partisans crowded around Alex and me; patting me on the back and praising me for my gallant fighting during the Solta raid. Embarrassed, and knowing only a few Yugoslavian "choice" words, Alex and I tried, in vain, to explain that it was a simple operation which had nothing to do with the battle of Solta. Because of the language barrier we were not able to convince our Partisan friends that I was not wounded in battle. They brought out the wine and toasted me for my heroism. A couple of glasses of their fine wine and I was in "bird land" that night. Captain Markoutsos was correct in his analysis; never again was I called the bump.

Luftwaffe swarms Vis like Yellow Jackets

The fallout from our successful raid on Solta was like disturbing a swarm of yellow jackets. Prior to the Solta raid, the German planes that flew over Vis were either reconnaissance or photography planes and the Allied troops rarely paid attention to them.

A couple of days after the Solta raid, we received news that an American movie had arrived on Vis; we were very excited. We had not seen a movie since we departed from the States in December 1943. Most of the Greek-American men were barely 20 years old and were movie buffs. It was to be shown at the Comitza community hall adjacent to the harbor. The hall resembled many of the ethnic halls in America: a two-story building with kitchen facilities and a dining area on the first floor, and on the second floor a large dance area and a stage.

The movie was to be shown on the second floor. By dusk the hall was filled to capacity with standing room only. Over 300 men of the USOG, British troops, and a few Partisans were in attendance. When the film's opening credits were shown we were pleased the movie was a recent release, Mr. Lucky starring Cary Grant.

When the movie began anti-aircraft fire was heard on the harbor. Most of us ignored the firing because the Partisans would often fire their guns from gunboats that rimmed the harbor, alleging they were cleaning the barrels of their guns.

For a few minutes the majority of men in the hall continued to watch the movie, even though there were shouts from the rear of the hall to move out of the building. Suddenly the Stuka dive bombers dropped their bombs and all hell broke loose in the hall. The bombers missed their intended target, the community hall, and their bombs landed in the bay. The only exit from the hall was the front entrance. Men were jumping from the second story. Others raced through the building onto an adjacent home on the opposite side from the harbor and rushed up to the mountain. It was the first time we heard that eerie and frightening sound of the Stuka planes. The Stukas continued their bombing sorties for what seemed a lifetime. It was later discovered that the Partisans on the gunboat anchored in front of the hall had averted the disaster by firing on the Stukas with their anti-aircraft guns. Fortunately, the Partisans stayed on duty rather than watch the movie.

A rumor circulated that the Germans had been tipped off that the Americans and British would be congregating in the hall. This was never corroborated, but since it was the initial bombing raid on Comitza the very night of the first movie, the story was deemed logical.

Considering the bombing raid was a surprise we had few casualties; the worst injured were the guys who jumped from the building. Three of our Group IV men were injured that way. After the Stukas left we could not locate Alex Phillips. Perry and I were frantic, but we were ordered to put out the fires and guard against an invasion of Vis rather than search for Alex. Finally about dawn Alex showed up and when we reprimanded him, he said, What's the big deal? He was ordered to put out fires on another part of the harbor and haul ammunition. As mentioned it is great to have siblings and childhood friends in the service, but I would never recommend it in a combat outfit.

The movie, Mr. Lucky, was scheduled time and again, but each time a plane or planes would fly near Vis, we would not wait to find out whether they were friendly or enemy, and the movie was aborted. The bombings continued almost nightly, so we decided to build trenches on the side of the mountain. The trenches became our living quarters at night until we left Vis.

After the war I finally viewed Mr. Lucky.