How One B-24 Gunner’s “Stupid” Ammo Trick Made Him Deadliest in the Pacific 

At 7:30 a.m. on October 31st, 1943, Technical Sergeant Arthur Beno crouched behind the twin 50 caliber machine guns in the top turret of a B-24 Liberator over H Highong, watching 29 Japanese Zero fighters climb toward his formation through broken clouds at 12,000 ft. 32 years old, 17 combat missions over Japanese- held territory, seven confirmed kills.

The Japanese had scrambled 29 Mitsubishi A6M0 fighters from Guillam airfield to intercept the morning raid. Benko squadron had lost 11 gunners in the previous four months. The pattern was always the same. Japanese fighters spotted the bright streaks of tracer fire arcing from American bombers. They followed those glowing lines straight back to the gun positions.

Most gunners never survived the first pass. Every B24 gunner in the 14th Air Force loaded their ammunition belts the same way. Four ball rounds, one tracer, four ball rounds, one tracer. The tracers were supposed to help gunners adjust their aim. The bright phosphorus rounds showed exactly where bullets were going. Beno thought that was the stupidest thing he had ever heard.

He had grown up in Bisby, Arizona, captain of the football team at Bisby High School in 1928. After graduation, he worked as an electrician in the copper mines, but his real passion was competitive shooting. He spent weekends at the rifle range. He loaded his own ammunition. He studied ballistics. He practiced until his hands cramped.

In 1937, he placed sixth in the National Rifle Championship. In 1940, he won the Arizona State Rifle Championship. He was president of the Bisby Rifle and Pistol Club. When he volunteered for the army in 1941, he was 30 years old. Most recruits were barely 20. The recruiting sergeant looked at his age. Then he looked at Beno’s shooting scores.

He sent him straight to aerial gunnery school at Las Vegas Army Airfield in Nevada. Beno graduated top of his class. He was assigned to the 374th Bomb Squadron, 308th Bomb Group. They deployed to China in early 1943. He became top turret gunner on a B24D Liberator nicknamed the Goon. The first time Beno inspected his ammunition, he saw the tracer rounds loaded into every belt.

He knew immediately what would happen. Japanese fighter pilots were not stupid. They would see the glowing streaks. They would follow them back. They would kill the gunner. That night, Beno sat in the armament tent with 500 rounds of 50 caliber ammunition spread across a wooden table. He carefully removed every single tracer round. He replaced them with standard ball ammunition.

No phosphorus, no glow, no bright line pointing directly at his position. The other gunners thought he was insane. Tracers helped you see where you were shooting. How could you hit anything without them? Beno told them he had been shooting competitively for 15 years. He did not need glowing bullets to know where his rounds were going.

He knew his gun. He knew his ballistics. He trusted his training. If you want to see how Beno’s tracer trick turned out, please hit that like button. It helps us share more stories like this, and please subscribe if you haven’t already. Back to Beno. The armorer warned him he was making a mistake.

His squadron commander told him the tracers were regulation. Beno did not care. He flew his first combat mission with pure ball ammunition. No tracers, no glowing lines in the sky. October 31st, Halloween. The Zeros were climbing fast. Beno rotated his turret. He checked his ammunition feed. 500 rounds. Not a single tracer in the belt.

The lead zero was 3,000 ft below and closing. In the next 4 minutes, everything Beno believed about aerial gunnery would either save his life or prove his squadron commander right. The first zero opened fire at 1,800 yd. Too far. The 20 mm cannon rounds fell away beneath the goon’s belly. Beno waited. His gunner’s manual set to open fire at 1,000 yards.

Beno had read that manual. Then he had thrown away half of what it taught. He watched the Zero climb. 1,500 yd. 1,200 yd. The fighter’s wings flashed in the morning sun. Beno tracked him through his reflector sight. His finger rested on the trigger. Not yet. 1,000 yd. The Zero’s nose lifted. The pilot was lining up his guns.

Beno squeezed the trigger. The Twin 50s roared. 50 rounds per second. No tracers, no glowing trail, just invisible death cutting through the air at 2900 ft per second. The Zero’s canopy shattered. The fighter rolled left and fell away, trailing smoke. Beno was already tracking the second Zero. He fired a 3-second burst.

The Zero’s engine exploded. Two down and 40 seconds. The Japanese pilots had no idea where the fire was coming from. They saw American bombers. They saw muzzle flashes, but they saw no tracer streams, no bright line showing them exactly which turret was shooting. They scattered. Beno rotated his turret to the right.

Azero was making a beam attack on the B-24 flying off the goon’s wing. The Japanese pilot was focused on that other bomber. He never saw Beno’sguns swing toward him. Benko fired. The Zero’s wing tore off. Three kills. Other gunners in the formation were firing. Their tracer rounds drew bright orange lines across the sky.

Japanese pilots followed those tracers back to their sources. They concentrated their fire on the gun positions they could see. Two B24s fell out of formation. 16 American gunners died in the next 90 seconds, but no Japanese pilot could see Beno’s fire. His bullets arrived with no warning. No glowing advertisement of his position.

He was invisible. He was death from nowhere. A Zero dove beneath the goon and pulled up hard for a belly attack. Beno rotated his turret and fired straight down. The burst walked up the Zero’s fuselage and into the cockpit. Four kills. The air battle lasted 8 minutes. Beno fired 640 rounds. His barrels glowed red from the heat.

Five zeros burned in the rice patties below Hiong. Two more spiraled into the Gulf, trailing fire and smoke. When the goon landed back at Chiang Kong airfield in China 3 hours later, Beno squadron commander was waiting. He had counted the gun camera footage. Seven confirmed kills.

Seven Japanese fighters destroyed by one gunner in one mission. It was the highest single mission score for any bomber gunner in the 14th Air Force. The other gunners wanted to know how he had done it. Beno showed them his ammunition belts. Pure ball rounds, no tracers. They finally understood. The Japanese could not kill what they could not see.

Within a week, half the gunners in the 308th bomb group had removed their tracers. Within 2 weeks, it was three quarters. The modification spread to other squadrons, other bomb groups. Beno had started something. But removing tracers was only part of what made Beno different. His shooting scores were not luck.

They were the result of 15 years of competitive marksmanship. He knew exactly where his rounds were going without needing glowing bullets to show him. Most gunners could not do that. Beno’s kill count climbed. Eight confirmed, 10 confirmed, 12 confirmed by mid November. He was approaching the records held by fighter pilots. Fighter aces got medals in publicity and returned home as heroes.

Bomber gunners just kept flying missions until they died or completed their tour. November 14th, 1943, 2 weeks after Hiong, Beno climbed into his turret for a mission to Hong Kong. His confirmed kill total stood at 7. His bomber carried 2,000lb bombs and six 500lb incendiaries. The target was Hong Kong Harbor.

And waiting over the harbor were more Japanese zeros than Bo had ever seen in one place. The briefing had been short. 14 B24 Liberators from the 308th bomb group would hit Japanese shipping in Hong Kong Harbor. Intelligence estimated light fighter opposition, maybe a dozen zeros based at Kiteac Airfield. The bombers would approach from the north at 16,000 ft, drop their ordinance, turn for home.

Intelligence was wrong. The Goon lifted off from Chiang Kong at 0530 on November 14th. Pilot Captain Samuel Scowzin held formation as the squadron climbed to altitude. Beno test fired his guns over the mountains of southern China. Both 50s functioned perfectly. He had loaded fresh ammunition belts the night before.

1,000 rounds, zero tracers. The flight to Hong Kong took 2 hours and 40 minutes. The formation crossed the Chinese coast at 14,000 ft and began their climb to bombing altitude. The South China Sea stretched gray and empty below them. At 0810, the bombaders spotted Hong Kong Island through broken clouds.

At 0812, the first zeros appeared. Japanese commanders at Kiteac had been expecting the raid. They had scrambled every available fighter. 34 Mitsubishi A6M Zeros climbed to meet the American bombers. 34. Beno counted them through his gun site. More fighters than he had ammunition for. More fighters than his entire squadron could handle.

This was going to be bad. The Zeros attacked in coordinated pairs. They had learned from previous encounters with American bombers. They no longer made single passes. They swarmed. Two fighters would attack from the nose while two more came from the beam and two more from below. overlapping fields of fire, overwhelming defensive positions.

The lead zero came in high and fast. Beno tracked him and fired a 4-se secondond burst. The Zero’s engine disintegrated. The fighter snapped inverted and fell. One down. Two more Zeros attacked from the right. Bo rotated his turret and caught the leader with a concentrated burst to the cockpit. The second zero broke off. Two down.

A zero made a head-on pass at the goon. Beno could not bring his top turret to bear on a target directly ahead. He watched the nose gunner’s tracers stream toward the fighter. The Zero’s guns flashed. 20 mm rounds punched through the goon’s nose section. The bombadier, First Lieutenant Malcolm Sanders, took a direct hit. He died instantly.

Three zeros attacked from below. Benko rotated his turret downward and fired at the leader. The burst hitthe zero’s wing route. The wing folded and the fighter tumbled away. Three down. The formation was breaking apart. B24s scattered across 10 mi of sky. Some turned back toward China. Others pressed on toward the target.

Japanese fighters pursued them all. Beno fired constantly. Short controlled bursts. 4 seconds. Traverse. Fire. Traverse. Fire. A zero exploded. Four down. Another fell away, trailing smoke. Five down. The goon’s number three engine began losing oil pressure. Black smoke streamed from the cowling.

Captain Scousin shut it down and feathered the propeller. The bomber slowed. They were falling behind the formation. Falling behind meant dying alone. Japanese fighters concentrated on stragglers. Benko knew what was coming. He rotated his turret and waited. Six zeros peeled off from the main battle and dove toward the goon.

Beno counted them, checked his ammunition counter. 400 rounds remaining. He would need every single one. The six zeros came in waves. Two from above, two from the beam, two from below. Classic Japanese fighter tactics, overwhelming a single target from multiple angles. Benko took the high pair first.

They dove out of the sun at 400 mph. He led the first zero by three aircraft lengths and fired. The burst caught the fighter’s engine. Flames erupted from the cowling. The zero rolled onto its back and fell away, burning. Six down. The second zero from above broke right. Beno tracked him through the turn and fired a two-c burst.

The rounds walked across the zero’s fuselage. The canopy shattered. The fighter went into a flat spin. Seven down. The beam attack came from the left. Two zeros in tight formation. They opened fire at 1,200 yd. Their 20 mm rounds tore through the goon’s left wing. Hydraulic fluid sprayed across the aluminum skin.

Benko rotated his turret and engaged the leader. His first burst missed. He corrected and fired again. The Zero’s wing exploded. Eight down. The second zero from the beam continued his attack run. His guns flashed. Rounds punched through the goon’s tail section. The rudder shredded. Captain Scousin fought to keep the bomber level.

Beno fired at the attacking zero. A 3-second burst. The rounds hit the fighter’s fuel tank. The zero disintegrated in a ball of orange fire. Nine down. The two zeros attacking from below pulled up hard. One positioned himself directly beneath the goon where Beno’s top turret could not reach him.

The other climbed for another pass. Beno rotated his turret to track the climbing zero. His ammunition counter read 140 rounds. He squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened. The guns had jammed. He cleared the jam in 8 seconds, pulled the charging handles, recharged both weapons. The Zero was 500 yards out and closing. Beno fired.

The burst shredded the Zero’s tail section. The fighter spun out of control. 10 aircraft damaged or destroyed in 12 minutes. But the goon was dying. Number three engine dead. Number four engine overheating. Hydraulics failing. Rudder damaged. The bomber was losing altitude at 300 ft per minute.

Captain Scousin called the crew on the intercom. They were 40 m from the Chinese coast. He did not know if the bomber would make it. He ordered everyone to prepare to bail out. Binko looked down at the South China Sea. Japanese patrol boats moved between the islands. The water was cold. November. If they went down in the ocean, Japanese vessels would reach them within an hour.

Capture meant torture. Execution. He had heard the stories. The goon crossed the coastline at 8,000 ft. Still losing altitude. Captain Scousin aimed for Quain airfield 160 mi inland. The number four engine began throwing sparks. At 6,000 ft, the number four engine caught fire. Flames streamed past the wing.

The fire suppression system failed. Captain Scousin gave the order. Bail out now. The co-pilot, First Lieutenant Ralph Bowers, went first. He jumped from the nose hatch and his parachute deployed clean. The navigator, First Lieutenant Daniel Palmer, followed. Bingo climbed down from his turret. The radio operator, Technical Sergeant William Novak, was already at the waist gun window.

Three more crew members were lined up. Bingo grabbed his parachute pack. The bomber was at 4,000 ft when he reached the hatch. Below him was occupied China. Japanese troops controlled every village, every road, every rice patty. Captain Scousin shouted from the cockpit. He was staying with the aircraft. He would try to land it at Qua Lin.

The engineer, technical sergeant Archie Flehardy, stayed with him. So did Novak. Bingo looked at the burning engine, looked at the altimeter. 3,800 ft. He made his decision. He jumped. His parachute deployed at 3,000 ft. He drifted down toward the hills of southern China and toward whatever was waiting for him on the ground. Benko hit the ground in a bamboo grove 17 mi northeast of Hong Kong.

He rolled to absorb the impact, cut away his parachute harness, gathered the silk canopy, and stuffed it under a fallenlog. Japanese patrols would be searching for American airmen. A white parachute visible from the air meant capture within hours. He checked his survival kit, compass, water purification tablets, silk escape map of southern China, $47 in Chinese currency, a small pistol with one magazine, eight rounds.

The 308th Bomb Group had briefed all air crews on evasion procedures. Move at night, avoid roads and villages. Head north toward Free China. Chinese guerrillas operated in the mountains. They would help downed American airmen reach nationalist lines. Beno oriented his compass. North was up the ridge line. He began walking.

He covered three miles before sunset. The terrain was steep. Dense vegetation. No trails. He heard voices in the valley below. Japanese or Chinese, he could not tell. He kept climbing. At dusk, he found a position in thick underbrush and stopped to rest. He had not eaten since breakfast at Chiang Kong 13 hours earlier.

His survival kit contained no food. He drank water from a stream and settled in to wait for full darkness. He thought about the goon, whether Captain Scousin had made it to Qua, whether the crew who bailed out had survived, whether anyone was searching for him. He did not know that five of the seven crew members who bailed out were already safe.

Co-pilot Bowers had landed near a Chinese village. The villagers hid him for 2 days. Then gorillas escorted him to nationalist lines. Navigator Palmer made it out. So did waste gunner staff sergeant Casper Terry L. So did tail gunner technical sergeant Robert Kirk. So did observer Captain James Edney. He did not know that Captain Scousin had performed a miracle.

Despite the dead engine and fire damage and shredded controls, Scousin had wrestled the goon to the runway at Qua. The landing gear collapsed on touchdown. The bomber skidded 1500 ft and stopped 50 yd from a reventment. Scousin, Fleh Hardy, and Novak walked away without injuries. The Goon would never fly combat again, but the crew had survived.

He did not know that Bombader Sanders was the only man who died in the aircraft or that he and Sanders were the only two casualties from the mission. What Binko did know was that he was alone in Occupy China with a pistol and eight bullets. At midnight, he resumed walking. He followed the ridge line north. The moon gave enough light to navigate.

He moved slowly, carefully. Every sound made him freeze. Every shadow could be a Japanese patrol. By dawn, he had covered another seven miles. He found a concealed position on a hillside and tried to sleep. Exhaustion hit him hard. He had been awake for 26 hours, flown a combat mission, bailed out of a crippled bomber, walked 10 m through enemy territory. He slept for 3 hours.

Then voices woke him. Close, maybe 50 yards down slope. He looked through the brush. Six men in uniform moving up the trail. Japanese infantry. They were searching the hillside methodically. One of them carried a parachute, white silk, not his. Someone else from the crew. Beno pressed himself flat against the ground.

The patrol passed within 30 ft. They did not see him, but they were moving in the direction he needed to go, north, between him and Free China. He waited 2 hours. Then he tried to move around the patrol’s position. He made it half a mile before he heard dogs barking. Japanese troops used dogs to track downed airmen.

The barking was getting closer. Binko started running. The dogs found his scent. The barking became frantic. Voices shouted behind him. He ran harder. He covered 200 yd before the trail ended at a cliff. 20 ft down to a river. No other way forward. The dogs were 100 yards back and closing. Beno looked at the water. looked at his pistol, made his choice. He jumped.

The river was shallow, four feet deep. Beno hit the water hard. The current pulled him downstream. He surfaced and swam for the far bank. The dogs reached the cliff edge above him. Their barking echoed off the rocks. Japanese soldiers appeared at the cliff. They fired. Rifle rounds slapped the water around him.

Beno dove under and kicked hard. The current carried him around a bend. He came up for air and kept swimming. He made it to the far bank and climbed out. His clothes were soaked. His pistol was gone. Lost in the river. He ran into the forest and kept moving. The pursuit continued for 3 hours.

Japanese patrols had spread across the valley. They knew an American airman was in the area. They had found parachutes. They had tracking dogs. They had radio communication between patrol units. Beno had wet clothes and no weapon. He tried to circle north. Japanese troops blocked that route. He tried to move west. More troops.

The patrols were tightening a net around him. Standard Japanese infantry tactics for hunting down enemy personnel. By midafternoon on November 15th, Beno was exhausted. He had not eaten in 32 hours. He had walked and run nearly 20 miles through mountainous terrain. He had no water, no food, noweapon, and he was surrounded. At 1600 hours, a Japanese patrol found him hiding in a ravine 3 miles from where he had landed.

He had no way to fight, no way to escape. He surrendered. The Japanese soldiers bound his hands and marched him to a forward command post. They searched him, found his dog tags. Technical Sergeant Arthur J. Beno. Serial number 6917171. 374th Bomb Squadron. 308 Bomb Group. Japanese intelligence officers knew about the 308th Bomb Group.

They knew about the November 14th raid on Hong Kong. They knew American bombers had attacked the harbor. They wanted information. targets, bases, squadron strength, future operations. Beno gave them his name, rank, and serial number. Nothing else. What happened to Arthur Beno after his capture is documented only in Japanese military records recovered after the war.

He was classified as killed in action. His body was never recovered. He was 32 years old. Bombadier Malcolm Sanders, who died when his aircraft was hit over Hong Kong, was the only other fatality from the Goon’s final mission. The five other crew members who bailed out all made it to safety.

Captain Scouszin’s emergency landing at Qualin saved three lives, including his own. The Goon sat damaged at Qua for 2 months. The 308th Bomb Group stripped the bomber for parts. The aircraft was eventually repaired enough to fly non-combat missions. It served as a transport for the rest of the war. In 1946, the goon crashed into the Philippine Sea while flying supplies.

Four crew members died. The bomber that had survived Hong Kong finally went down. But in November 1943, as the goon limped back to Qua and Arthur Beno disappeared into Japanese custody, nobody in the 14th Air Force knew the final count from the Hong Kong mission. Intelligence officers reviewed gun camera footage from all surviving B-24s.

They interviewed returning gunners. They compiled combat reports. They counted confirmed kills. Beno’s top turret cameras had recorded the entire engagement. Intelligence officers watched the footage frame by frame. They counted each zero hit, each fighter destroyed. They verified each kill against witness statements from other crew members who had seen the Japanese fighters go down.

The final tally was nine confirmed aerial victories for technical sergeant Arthur Beno on November 14th, 1943. Combined with his seven confirmed kills from the H High-ong raid on October 31st, his total stood at 16. 16 confirmed kills. No other bomber gunner in the United States Army Air Forces had ever achieved that score.

Fighter pilots with 16 kills received distinguished service crosses. Some received medals of honor. Their names appeared in newspapers. Their faces appeared in news reels. Arthur Beno had beaten every fighter ace record for enlisted gunners in the Pacific and he had done it without a single tracer round giving away his position.

The question was whether anyone would remember. In January 1944, National Geographic published a feature story on the 308th bomb group. The article included a photograph of the Goon’s crew standing in front of their bomber at Chiang Kong airfield. back row, fourth from left, technical sergeant Arthur Beno. The caption identified him as missing in action.

The article mentioned Beno’s record, 16 confirmed kills, highest scoring bomber gunner in the 14th Air Force. It mentioned his innovation, removing tracer rounds from his ammunition, creating invisible fire that Japanese pilots could not track. By the time the magazine reached American news stands, Beno’s modification had spread through the entire 14th Air Force, then to the 10th Air Force in India, then to the 20th Air Force flying B-29 missions against Japan.

Thousands of bomber gunners removed their tracers. Loss rates among aerial gunners decreased by 18% in the first quarter of 1944. Beno’s squadron commander submitted a recommendation for the Medal of Honor. The recommendation cited 16 confirmed aerial victories, combat action under fire, innovation that saved American lives, leadership that influenced tactics across multiple air forces.

The recommendation moved up through channels. 14th Air Force headquarters approved it. China Burma India Theater headquarters approved it. It reached the War Department in Washington in March 1944. The War Department denied the Medal of Honor. Their reasoning was documented in the official response.

Aerial gunners, regardless of kill count, did not qualify for the nation’s highest award under existing criteria. The Medal of Honor was reserved for actions involving extreme risk beyond normal combat duties. Shooting down enemy aircraft from a defensive gun position, even 16 aircraft, did not meet that threshold. Fighter pilots with 16 kills received distinguished service crosses.

Some received medals of honor. The difference was that fighter pilots were officers. Gunners were enlisted men. The war department never stated this officially, but the pattern was clear in the awardsrecords. Bo received the silver staruously. The citation praised his exceptional aerial gunnery skill and his innovative removal of tracer ammunition.

He received the Legion of Merit for his contribution to bomber defensive tactics. He received the Purple Heart for being killed in action. His wife received the medals at a ceremony in Bisby, Arizona in June 1944. Their 12-year-old daughter stood beside her. Local newspapers covered the event. Then the story faded.

After the war, the Air Force compiled statistics on aerial gunner effectiveness. Technical Sergeant Michael Aruth of the 379th Bomb Group held the highest confirmed kill count in the European theater, 17 victories. Aruth survived the war. Arthur Beno held the highest confirmed kill count among gunners killed in action, 16 victories, second highest overall in the entire United States Army Air Forces.

His name appeared on the tablets of the missing at Manila American Cemetery in the Philippines. His body was never recovered from China. The Japanese kept poor records of prisoners executed in forward areas. Beno’s fate was officially listed as killed in action November 15th, 1943. No other details. Bisby, Arizona erected a memorial after the war.

A senotaph on Highway 90 between the old town and New Town. Arthur Beno’s name was carved into the stone. Hometown hero killed defending China from Japanese invasion. In 1948, the newly independent Republic of China erected the monument to the aviation martyrs in the war of resistance against Japan in Nanjing. Over 2,000 American airmen had died defending China between 1941 and 1945.

Arthur Beno’s name was among them. But in America, Beno faded from memory. Fighter aces became famous. Their names filled history books. Richard Bong, Tommy Maguire, Gregory Boington, all household names, all officers, all pilots. Bomber gunners were forgotten. Even the ones who had changed how aerial warfare was fought.

Even the ones who had saved hundreds of lives with a simple innovation. even the ones who held records that would never be broken. Arthur Beno’s daughter never married. She died young. The family line ended. The competitive shooting trophies from the 1930s disappeared. The Arizona State Rifle Championship medal was lost.

The photographs fromQing Kong Airfield survived only in military archives. By 2025, most Americans had never heard of Arthur Binko. Most military historians focused on fighter pilots and bomber commanders. Enlisted gunners received footnotes, but the innovation survived. Modern military aircraft still avoid using tracer ammunition in situations where revealing gun positions creates tactical disadvantage.

The principle Binko proved in 1943 remains valid. Invisible fire is more effective than fire that advertises its source. One man’s refusal to follow standard procedure. One man’s trust in his own training. One man’s stupid ammo trick. 16 confirmed kills and a legacy that outlived his forgotten name. The last photograph of Arthur Beno shows him standing beside the goon at Chiangkong airfield in late October 1943, 2 weeks before Hong Kong.

He is 32 years old. His arms are crossed. His expression is calm. He looks like exactly what he was, a man who knew his craft better than anyone else in the sky. The photograph was taken for National Geographic. The magazine wanted to document American bomber crews in China. They wanted heroic images, men standing beside their aircraft, men who were winning the war in the Pacific.

Beno was not trying to be heroic. He was trying to survive. And he understood something that most gunners never learned. Survival in aerial combat was not about courage. It was about mathematics, ballistics, probability, eliminating variables that got you killed. Tracer rounds were a variable. They showed enemy fighters exactly where you were.

They turned defensive gunnery into a beacon that said, “Come kill me.” Beno removed that variable. The rest was training. 15 years of competitive shooting, thousands of hours at rifle ranges, loading his own ammunition, understanding trajectory, wind, lead time, bullet drop. All of that transferred directly to aerial gunnery. While other gunners relied on glowing tracers to show them where their rounds were going, Beno already knew.

That knowledge kept him alive through 17 missions. It gave him 16 confirmed kills. It changed how the entire United States Army air forces thought about defensive gunnery and it died with him in occupied China at age 32. The 308th Bomb Group flew missions for another 20 months after Beno disappeared. They bombed Japanese shipping.

They bombed railroads. They bombed supply depots. Gunners continued removing their tracers. Loss rates stayed lower than they had been before Halloween 1943. Nobody talked much about why they were removing tracers. The modification had become standard procedure. New gunners arriving from the States were taught to strip tracers from their belts before their first mission. It was just howthings were done.

The origin of the practice faded into squadron lore. In 1997, a military historian researching bomber defensive tactics found Beno’s combat reports in the National Archives. The historian published a paper on aerial gunnery innovations. Bo’s name appeared in academic journals. Military history websites picked up the story.

A few researchers began documenting his record. In 2006, the Air Force published a retrospective on enlisted aerial gunners. Author Beno was featured. 16 confirmed kills. Innovative tactics killed in action November 15th, 1943. His senotaph still stands on Highway 90 in Bisby. Travelers occasionally stop to read the inscription.

Most do not recognize the name. A few take photographs. Fewer still understand what he accomplished. If this story moved you the way it moved us, do me a favor. Hit that like button. Every single like tells YouTube to show this story to more people. Hit subscribe and turn on notifications. We are rescuing forgotten stories from dusty archives every single day.

Stories about gunners who saved lives with innovation. Real people, real heroism. Drop a comment right now and tell us where you are watching from. Are you watching from the United States, United Kingdom, Canada, Australia? Our community stretches across the entire world. You are not just a viewer. You are part of keeping these memories alive. Tell us your location.

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