Nearly 63 years after taking to the air for what was supposed to be their next-to-last bombing mission, two World War II veterans and former prisoners of war met face-to-face again this weekend in Helena.

Co-pilot Norm Marshank and rear gunner Ben Ringo were on a B-24 bomber on Oct. 19, 1944, flying their 34th mission of the war in Europe. Soon after releasing its deadly payload over a railroad yard near Frankfurt, Germany, the plane -- which had greater range, ceiling, capacity and durability than the venerated B-17, the men said with pride -- suffered a critical hit.

Both men bailed out, Ringo at 24,000 feet and Marshank at 12,000 feet. As far as they know, they're the only survivors of the 10-man crew. But the men didn't even know each other had made it out alive until several years ago, when Ringo, 84, was able to locate Marshank, 82, through a directory of former POWs.

The men, who grew as close as brothers during their seven months together training and flying, have talked over the phone. This weekend was their first chance to meet again in person. Ringo lives in Helena, and friends and family joined the men at Spring Meadow State Park to celebrate the reunion.

"Finally, I ran out of excuses (to visit)," said Marshank, who lives in Los Angeles. "I'm very glad we are here together."

German rounds struck the B-24 Liberator in the bomb bay, just moments after the explosives had been released. Marshank and Ringo, who had flown in D-Day bombing raids and were supposed to be sent stateside after 35 missions, said adrenaline quickly took over.

"I didn't have time to be scared," Marshank said. "I knew the plane was going down. I wanted to get out."

After he landed on the ground, German civilians tended to Marshank's minor wounds before authorities discovered him later that day.

Ringo stayed free for two-and-a-half days before he was caught.

Marshank and Ringo still don't know what happened to the rest of their crew.

Two men were killed by civilians on the ground. The pilot was supposed to jump out immediately after Marshank, but he doesn't know what happened to him or the other members of the crew.

"It's like losing your brothers," Ringo said. "We don't know if they're alive or what happened."

Each Oct. 19, Marshank said, he raises a toast to his friends who didn't make it.

Ringo was held in a camp near the North Sea. Marshank spent his time in a camp in the Bavarian Alps. For both, the first few months in the camps weren't difficult. The airmen were treated better than infantry, and they weren't forced to work. But things soon changed.

Ringo's camp began to run low on food. He lost 46 pounds over his seven-month stay.

The Russian Army got within 20 miles of Marshank's camp, and the German guards forced the prisoners to march 70 miles through snowstorms with temperatures dropping to 20 degrees below zero. He said the snowdrifts looked like "sheets on a bed," but lying down meant death.

After the march, the prisoners were crowded onto railroad box cars and left several days without sanitation, and some died. On April 29, 1945, Marshank and the others were liberated by elements from Gen. George Patton's 3rd Army.

On the night of May 4, 1945, Russian tanks rolled over the fence around the camp that held Ringo. A loudspeaker at the camp began playing a rebroadcast of the "Lucky Strike Hit Parade," a collection of the top songs of the day. The No. 1 hit, Ringo remembers with a smile, was "Don't Fence Me In."