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To hear Sam and Tony Mastrogiacomo tell their war stories, one would quickly conclude that they have all the elements of a Steven Spielberg movie.
Historic battles, daring rescues, downed planes, secret escapes and heartfelt reunions make up the bulk of their vivid experiences from World War II, and after all these years, they are finally getting rewarded for their efforts.
Nearly 58 years after the fact, Sam, a former staff sergeant in the Army Air Force, was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross in early October for downing five German planes.
Tony, a former private first class fighter on the frontlines, is waiting on a long-overdue Bronze Star for his valiant action during the Battle of the Bulge.
The brothers, natives of 11th and Porter, took distinctly different paths during the war, yet both walked away with harrowing, death-defying tales that remain ever-present in their hearts and minds.
"We were a lot younger then," says Sam, 81. "We were full of vinegar and knew that we had a job to do. It was going to be tough, without a doubt, but each of our jobs were equally important."
Citing an aversion to fighting in the mud, Sam opted to enlist in the Army Air Force in early 1942. While flying overhead during a mission, Sam’s thoughts often centered on the plight of his younger brothers, Tony and Pete, both of whom were fighting on the ground.
"It’s funny, we always used to look up at the planes and say, ‘Oh, those poor guys,’" says 80-year-old Tony. "Little did we know they were looking down on us and thinking the same thing."
Sam’s B-24 bomber was looking down on Germany on Easter Sunday 1944 when it was hit by fire from enemy planes. The gunner wheeled around and shot down one of the attacking planes, the fifth time Mastrogiacomo had succeeded in taking out a German aircraft.
His plane was badly damaged, though, and the crew began hastily emptying out cargo as they came within 100 miles of Sweden. Mastrogiacomo was about to dump his gun as well when another fighter plane appeared on the horizon.
"I was about to take aim, but then I spotted a blue circle and three crowns and realized it was a Swedish plane," he says.
The crew was in the process of landing on a small island just off the coast of Sweden when the plane’s landing gear completely blew out. "Luckily, the plane stopped before we ran out of land," Mastrogiacomo recalls with a sigh.
Although the Swedes meant the crew no harm, they still had to keep them as prisoners of war as foreign nationals in a neutral country.
Mastrogiacomo quickly found work in an internment camp, repairing American and Swedish planes with French, Polish and British POWs. Six months went by and Mastrogiacomo and 35 other prisoners resolved to finally escape after swapping a Swedish engine into a serviceable American plane.
"It was a hush-hush job, done in the middle of the night. We all piled into the plane and were told that we would be shot at as we took off but not hit," Mastrogiacomo explains. "I don’t know, it may have been an inside job because we did hear shots but we weren’t hit."
Once in the air, Mastrogiacomo noticed that the plane, stuffed with prisoners, had no parachutes or guns. It was at that moment, as they flew over Germany, that he feared for his life the most.
The craft stopped off and refueled at a secret Allied base in France before taking off again for Scotland, where the escaped POWs would board a train back to England.
"The first thing I remember about making it back to England is being offered steak and eggs," Mastrogiacomo says. "Boy, was that a sight for sore eyes."
After resting, the flier was ready to get into another plane and head back into battle. He and the other escapees were forbidden from continuing any missions, however, because if they were captured by Germans, they most likely would have been treated like spies.
Besides, there were plenty of other Mastrogiacomos still out there fighting.
Tony and Pete Mastrogiacomo thought Sam was still a prisoner of war somewhere by the time December 1944 and the Battle of the Bulge rolled around.
Fighting on the frontlines and suffering from severe frostbite, Tony watched a sniper’s bullet land between the eyes of a friend and quickly realized he would be the next person to fill the sniper’s scope.
He turned and opened fire into a patch of trees where he believed the sniper was hiding. Tony was relieved to find out he had fired correctly, although he was soon plagued by a shrapnel wound to his foot.
Miraculously, the frostbite saved him from excessive bleeding and most likely saved his life.
"I took some shrapnel but really didn’t feel it because of the frostbite," he explains. "After I killed that sniper, I just collapsed and passed out face first in the snow."
When he awoke in the dark a few hours later, Mastrogiacomo surveyed the bodies surrounding him — more than 70 percent of his unit had been killed — and opted to crawl to a ravine on his stomach.
He heard the cries of a wounded friend and crawled to his aid, dodging fire along the way. Both men made it back down to the ravine, although the friend Mastrogiacomo saved died a few days later.
While visiting a French hospital the following day, Mastrogiacomo was stopped by a doctor who noticed him limping in considerable pain.
"He wanted to check me out, but I told him it was just some shrapnel and that I was fine. I wanted to get back with the other guys, and I wasn’t sure what had happened to my brother Pete. He was fighting in the Bulge with me the day before," the veteran says.
Finally relenting to the doctor’s wishes, Mastrogiacomo was stunned to find out he was suffering from extreme frostbite that would require long-term hospitalization.
"I thought, hey, no problem!" Mastrogiacomo laughs. "If they wanted to set me up in a nice hospital bed with a hot shower, I wasn’t going to put up a fight."
The Germans began bombing as Mastrogiacomo settled into an ambulance with three or four other wounded men. Within minutes, a German bomb exploded the ambulance and killed the driver.
Mastrogiacomo was loaded into another ambulance and knocked out with a needle. He awoke in a hospital in Wales in a "bed with clean white sheets and lots of hot chocolate all around." He would spend the next three months in that hospital, frequently fretting over his two brothers and family members at home.
"I felt bad for my mom. Within the span of a month, she received four telegrams — one telling her [about Sam] being a POW, one saying that I was hurt, one saying my brother Pete was missing, and another telling her that my uncle had been killed."
After receiving frequent doses of penicillin, Mastrogiacomo’s foot began to heal, allowing him to hobble over to speak to Red Cross officials about the fate of his brother Pete.
"I thought he was dead, for sure, but then one day, surprise!" he says. "Pete shows up in a cast. He had been shot in the shoulder."
All three brothers safely returned to South Philly in 1945. Tony now lives in Woodbury, N.J., and Sam is in Washington Township, but both still fondly refer to Philly as their "true home." Their brother Pete died earlier this year.
Tony is still waiting to receive his bronze star in the mail for saving his pal’s life during the Battle of the Bulge.
Thanks to the intervention of his old commanding officer — with whom he was reunited just a few years ago — Sam finally received his Distinguished Flying Cross in an Oct. 4 ceremony at McGuire Air Force Base. Both brothers, reflecting on their sacrifices and the similar sacrifices being made by men and women fighting in Iraq, say it is an honor to receive a medal from their country.
"I can’t even put it into words," Sam says. "It’s such an honor that … you just get overcome with emotions. [We both] feel very proud to finally get these medals."
