A man in Lexington, North Carolina has a moving diary written by a World War II bomber pilot.
He discovered the diary after his father died 20 years ago. It belonged to his father's co-pilot, William Moran, with whom he served during WWII.
The bomber is the Allies' great hope, but is also the most deadly, with the B-24 earning the nickname "The Flying Coffin".
Why did these men sign up to such a dangerous job? What did they see and do during their time in England? Can this diary shed light on the men who kept Hitler at bay?
The details in the diary about a wife and unborn child haunt our contributor and there's one thing missing - an ending. What happened to Bill Moran? Can we return this very personal piece of history to a living relative?
The stakes are raised as the diary pages reveal the story of a young American pilot stationed in England, racing against time and against all odds to return home.
- Also with Wes Cowan Lawrence Billy Club Was this truncheon used in the famous Bread and Roses labor strike?
- Also in Season 7 Galleon Shipwreck Is this a piece of treasure from a Spanish galleon washed up on an Oregon beach?
- Also in Depression and WWII: 1929-1945 Sideshow Babies Was the owner of this cup once a four-pound sideshow exhibit?
- Also with Wes Cowan Civil War Deringers Are these pistols union or rebel?
- Also with Wes Cowan John Brown Pike How did this metal blade spark violent tension between the North and the South?
- Also in Depression and WWII: 1929-1945 Broadway Ballet Shoes Did this dancer's great-great-grandfather teach Salvatore Capezio to make ballet shoes?
This is a place for opinions, comments, questions and discussion; a place where viewers of History Detectives can express their points of view and connect with others who value history. We ask that posters be polite and respectful of all opinions. History Detectives reserves the right to delete comments that don’t conform to this conduct. We will not respond to every post, but will do our best to answer specific questions, or address an error.