Medal Citation

Rank and organization: First Lieutenant, U.S. Army Air Corps, 359th Bomber Squadron, 303d Bomber Group.

Place and date: Over Vegesack, Germany, 18 March 1943.

Entered service at: San Angelo, Tex.

Born: 25 September 1921, San Angelo, Tex.

G.O. No.: 38, 12 July 1943.

Citation: For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty in action with the enemy over Vegesack, Germany, on 18 March 1943. 1st Lt. Mathis, as leading bombardier of his squadron, flying through intense and accurate antiaircraft fire, was just starting his bomb run, upon which the entire squadron depended for accurate bombing, when he was hit by the enemy antiaircraft fire. His right arm was shattered above the elbow, a large wound was torn in his side and abdomen, and he was knocked from his bomb sight to the rear of the bombardier's compartment. Realizing that the success of the mission depended upon him, 1st Lt. Mathis, by sheer determination and willpower, though mortally wounded, dragged himself back to his sights, released his bombs, then died at his post of duty. As the result of this action the airplanes of his bombardment squadron placed their bombs directly upon the assigned target for a perfect attack against the enemy. 1st Lt. Mathis' undaunted bravery has been a great inspiration to the officers and men of his unit.

Jesse Elliot, the navigator on the mission:
All was going smoothly right up to the initial point when Mathis put The Dutchess on her bomb run toward the yards.  Mathis was lead bombardier on the mission and the other bombardiers would be dropping when they saw his bombs go.  So, Jack reminded himself, he had to be absolutely perfect this time. He was working calmly at the Norden getting all the data entered correctly when they were hit. The navigator Jesse Elliott, right behind Mathis in the nose compartment picks up the story from here:

'Bomb-bay doors are open', l heard Jack call up to the pilot, and then he gave instructions to climb a little more to reach bombing altitude.  On the bomb run, the flak hit us. We were seconds short of the bomb-release point when a whole barrage of flak hit our squadron, which we were leading.  One of the shells burst out to the right and a little below the nose. It couldn't have been over thirty feet away when it burst. lf it had been much closer it would have knocked the whole plane over.  A hunk of flak came tearing through the side of the nose. It shattered glass on the right side and broke through with a loud crash.  l saw Jack falling back toward me and threw up my arm to ward off the fall. By that time both of us were way back in the rear of the nose, blown back there, I guess, by the flak blast.

l was sort of half standing, half lying against the back wall and Jack was leaning up against me. l didn't know he was injured at the time.  Without any assistance from me he pulled himself back to his bombsight. His little seat had been knocked out from under him by the flak, and he sort of knelt over the bombsight. He knew that as bombardier of the lead ship the results of the whole squadron might depend on his accuracy. And he didn't let anything stop him. Part of my job as navigator is to keep the log of the flight, so l looked at my watch to start timing the fall of the bombs.

I heard Jack call out on the intercom, 'Bombs ' He usually called it out in a sort of  singsong. But he never finished the phrase this time. The words just sort of trickled off, and l thought his throat mike had slipped out of place, so l finished the phrase 'Bombs Away!' for him. We don't start our evasive action to avoid the flak until those words go up to the pilot - and we all love that evasive action.

I looked up and saw jack reaching over to grab the bomb bay handle to close the doors.  Just as he pushed the handle he slumped over backwards.  I caught him.  That was the first indication that anything was wrong.  I saw then that his arm was pretty badly shot.

"I guess they go you that time, old boy", I remembered saying, but then his head slumped over and I saw that the injuries were more serious than just some flak in the arm.  I knew that he was dead.  I closed the bomb bay and returned to my post.

Article about the Mathis brothers from the June 1989 issue of Crosshairs Newsletter published by Bombardiers, Inc.

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