ELLSWORTH ? Azel Penuel stood beside Woodrow Harrison’s chair and leaned over the dining room table, holding his worn, leather-covered diary in one hand and, with the other hand, tracing the words Harrison had written in his own makeshift diary.

Both diaries were turned to the same date: June 23, 1944.

Both men had written sparingly, mentioning that several 100-pound incendiary devices had failed to fall from the B-17’s bomb bay as it flew over Romanian oil fields at Ploesti, but offering no other details.

But for the four men gathered in that dining room two weeks ago Penuel, 81, Arlington, Tex.; Harrison, 80, Berea, Ky.; Dale Grothusen, 83, Ellsworth; and Clarence Grover, 78, Reedsburg, Wis. those few words were all it took to bring back the memory of that June day and of the other days and nights the men spent together during their World War II tour in Italy.

Nearly 60 years later, the men still recall that day vividly. And they still feel that unexplainable but undeniable bond established during about six months in 1944.

First-ever reunion

Two weeks ago, the four men four of the five still living from a 10-man, U.S. Army Air Force B-17 crew met for their first-ever reunion at the farm home of Dale and Dorothy Grothusen east of Ellsworth. By speaker phone, they talked to the other living crew member, Earl Jorgensen of Rochester, Minn., who was unable to attend because of health concerns.

It was a weekend to reminisce, to catch up on the past 50 years, to meet wives and offspring, and to re-establish that connection first made so long ago. Although some of the men had been in contact, through Christmas cards or occasional visits, it was the first time they all had been together since the war.

Dorothy Grothusen found the crew members through the Internet and arranged the reunion after Jorgensen visited her and Dale last winter. Jorgensen, who was the bombardier, parachuted from a disabled plane over Austria during a mission with a different crew, Grothusen said, and was kept as a prisoner of war in Vienna and then Germany for a year. Another member of the crew, Lt. Bobby Morlan, was killed in that plane crash.

All they could talk about

When the soldiers returned home from the war, they were ready to resume their lives, and they didn’t discuss their experiences in Italy with family and friends. But Dorothy Grothusen said that when Dale and Earl got together, the war was all they could talk about.

And they wanted to see the rest of the crew.

Other members of the crew were just as eager for a reunion. Penuel even postponed hip surgery that had been scheduled for September, fearing he wouldn’t be able to make the trip if he had the surgery. Penuel, who had served in an activated National Guard unit before joining the B-17 crew, said the crew was exceptionally close.

“They were an unusually compatible group,” he said. “They didn’t have any bullies on the crew.”

Harrison said it was all of that time spent together in a small tent, “shooting the bull.”

“We were all sticking our necks out for the other guy,” said Grover, who, at 18, was the youngest and smallest member of the crew. “I imagine we had to develop a quick bond.”

Being together on those bombing runs eight-hour flights, on average also caused the men to develop a close bond. Dale Grothusen said the temperature on the plane dipped well below zero, and the men wore sheepskin-lined leather jackets and jump suits equipped with small, electric heaters.

After each bombing run, the men would line up to get their 2 ounces of whiskey from the medic.

“He had a list, and when you got yours, he’d cross your name off the list,” Dale Grothusen said. “Nobody was to get more than one.”

Harrison said most of the men lined up for their shot.

“The runs didn’t scare you,” he said. “It was when you got in bed after that you felt a little queasy. You had to get over the shakes before you could get to sleep.”

Each of the men was required to complete 50 bombing runs before being sent home for “rest and return.” Most of the flights, the 10 men were together, but occasionally, the men filled in on other crews.

Sometimes, the planes went out several days in a row; sometimes, several days passed without a run.

“It was better if you went every day,” Dale Grothusen said. “When you went two or three days without, that’s when it got bad. You had more time to think about it that’s when I got nervous.”

The crew was based in Foggia, Italy, and there wasn’t much to do, he said. The men spent most of their down time writing letters, playing poker and pulling practical jokes.