The 20-year-old fighter pilot stood in an open field. Whatever camouflage his green flight suit would have given him was negated by his flapping parachute. Even so, everyone on the ground had witnessed his harrowing ejection from his P-51 Mustang, which was now a smoldering heap in the distance. Fifty yards away, a crowd of angry civilians was rushing toward him, farming equipment in hand. It was April 10, 1945, and a downed American fighter pilot in the heart of Germany could expect little mercy. It was a miracle he had survived thus far. But from the looks of things, it may have been better had he gone down with his plane.
Retired Col. Joseph Peterburs was born in St. Paul, Minnesota, but had grown up in the neighboring state of Wisconsin in a suburb of Milwaukee. Born to loving and patriotic parents, he was one of nine children, although two had died in infancy from the Spanish flu. His father was an electrical steam engineer who took jobs as they came during the Great Depression. Finances were tight, as was the case in most U.S. households, but altogether Peterburs’s childhood was a happy one. He attended Holy Assumption Catholic School before attending Salvatorian Seminary in St. Nazianz, Wisconsin, located north of Milwaukee. At 17, he was on the path to become a priest, but one Sunday, after mass, the direction of his life would alter completely.