Honor Flight/Memorial Day

Good job keelya. Spend a little time at some Legions or VFW clubs. Lots of good stories.

Get it for Memorial Day... a GREAT movie!

Watch the Trailer . If you can get through it without choking up at least a bit, you are far stronger than I am.

Happy Memorial Day weekend to our TimesFour veterans. We can't thank you enough.

Several years ago my step-dad from Wisconsin was on the Badger Honor Flight. He had been on the Bataan death march. He and 2 buddies escaped the march. They then swam, with the help of a big log, across the water to the "island fortress" of Corregidor. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before that, too, was occupied by the Japanese, and he was a POW yet again. Those guys were prisoners for almost the entire war (remember that the Phillipines were attacked right after Pearl Harbor.) They endured horrific things.

He was a great guy, and my oldest brother was largely responsible for making him part of the Honor Flight. It meant the world to him. He passed away a year ago, and I'm thankful he was able to experience that.

Okay, that was my step-Dad. Now I'd like to honor my Dad for a second.

You may recall that after 26 years at my job, it was eliminated in December. 5 months later and I am still unemployed and feel like I'm feeling firsthand what it's like to suffer "ageism" at the age of 61. In order to have additional chances at work, I have gone back to school to become re-licensed as a high school teacher, which I haven't done since shortly after college. I'm taking a non-fiction class right now to get re-licensed in English. What follows is a ROUGH draft of a piece on Dad.
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There's an Air Force uniform in my closet. It belonged to my dad. On one side of the collar is a silver Lieutenant's bar. On the other side are his wings with a little propeller at its center. On one sleeve is the emblem of the mighty 8th Air Force. Over a pocket is a blueish patch with wings and a bomb in the center falling straight down. It still has a dry cleaning tag pinned to it from the war years.

The year was 1944. Dad had almost finished graduating from the University of Wisconsin when he was called up by the Army Air Corp. He was sent from one training base to another to prepare for the war, including Mountain Home in Idaho. It was then that my mother took a train to Idaho so they could get married. Mom's parents were against the marriage, so she and Dad eloped and got married at St. John's church on Hays Street in the north end of Boise.

Oddly enough, in 1981 I moved to Boise for a job. When I met my future wife she lived on Hays Street 3 doors down from St. John's. Life has a good sense of humor.

Back to 1944. Dad was shipped out to England and his war began. He was a Bombardier and Navigator on a B-24 bomber. Their mission was to bomb Nazi territories, most of which by then were actually within the borders of pre-war Germany. These were young men flying in broad daylight to bomb military, transportation, and munitions sites. Their nerves and courage were tested daily by German flak gunners. On almost every mission at least one person on the plane would be killed or injured, including Dad's pilot, Leo, who had been the best man at Dad's wedding.

By his 20th mission, almost the whole crew had been killed, so Dad was assigned to a new plane with a crew he didn't know. They may not have trusted him, and Dad probably lacked confidence in them, too. Their target was Hamburg, the largest port city in Germany. Hamburg had bizarre high towers that housed a battery of flak guns that could shoot 4 miles into the sky. They had had lots of practice shooting down American bombers, and they were good. Their shells exploded into spinning shards of jagged metal that went through the aluminum bombers like a can opener. What it did to flesh and bone was horrific. American crews dreaded missions to Hamburg.

Dad's plane was hit by flak. The Pilot and crew talked over the intercom about what to do. They agreed that their chances of making it back to England were very low. So they flew the short hop across the Baltic to neutral Sweden. There they crash-landed at the town of Malmo. The co-pilot suffered a broken back, and died within days. Swedish authorities met them with their weapons drawn, but for Dad and his crewmates, the war was over.

The Swedes held both Allied and Axis power soldiers in separate facilities for the duration of the war. It certainly was not one would call a prisoner of war camp. While the fliers couldn't leave, they were housed in what was really an old hotel. There was no barbed wire. Dad even learned to cross-country ski while there!

Meanwhile, Mom waited in Wisconsin, only knowing Dad was MIA -- missing in action.

Then the Swedes allowed the fliers to send short telegrams home. Dad's was 3 words: "Am alive. Karl."

Later Dad tried to send a photo of himself to Mom. He was wearing a sweater he had bought in Sweden. It had a reindeer on the front. Military Censors would not allow any information to go home that would give information about where the fliers were, so they cut out Dad's sweater with a scissors. Surely Reindeer said "Scandanavia," and that probably meant Sweden, the only neutral country in Scandanavia. Mom got a picture of Dad that only showed his floating head. Was he wounded? Missing an arm or leg?

The war ended just 6 months later, and Dad was sent home, where he and Mom had a very happy reunion.

Every time I look at Dad's uniform, I marvel at what both he and my mom went through. It gives me hope. It gives me courage. And it reminds me of Dad, who passed away 25 years ago this May 25th. For 25 years his uniform has hung in my closet, and I've thought of him virtually every day.

I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States, because of the unity of states that it represents.

Thanks, guys. Fantastic stories. Heroes giving their full devotion for OUR FREEDOM. Never forget.

Good stuff Royal Wulff. The reindeer sweater is funny stuff. Good luck on teaching again.

A hardy cheers of remembrance and thank you to all those who didn't make it home.

I will honor my Dad & son.

My Dad was a WWII "hump" flyer. They called the Burma - China route, over the hemalyian (spell?) mountains "flying the hump". He flew his C-46 for 91 trips over those mountains. He talked about how he would fly for 2 or 3 days straight with no sleep. Not sure I could do that once. Anyway, he retired from the US Army Air Corps as a Lt. Colonel. He passed a way on May 16, 2009. He was 91. In 2003 when the Hump Flyer Association meet in the area where I live, I told my dad that if he wanted to go I would take a week of vacation, go & get him, he would stay at my house, I would take him to all the events he wanted to go to, then take him back home. He thought about if for a while, but decided his health was iffy enough so he declined. By this time my son had his FAA flying credintials. So when my daughter got married, I told my dad that my son could fly up to get him at a quiet airport, fly him down to a local airport, then he could stay with us. But he declined that too for health reasons.

My son (Captain in USAF) out of UGPT was made an instructor for T-1 Pilots in training. He just returned from Afganistan. He flew more sorties than my Dad did. But the nature of those has changed from WWII to what they are now. And I am not at liberty to say what kind of mission or aircraft he flew - but he told me before he went off the record. He returned over a month ago. This past week he witnessed the birth of his son, and his name was written on a T-1 and there was a little ceremony that went with it. Next he will fly KC-135 tankers. There will likely be a deplyment or two doing that in his future.

Thanks to all our veterans.

Dad, Leo, made it back from WWII. North Africa and Normandy.
Step dad, Bob, made it back from WWII. Normandy.
Brother, Pat, made it back from Vietnam. 3 years there doing underwater demolition work.
All my uncles made it back from WWII. Two cousins made it back form Vietnam.

Christopher, nieces husband... active duty. Currently on his 3rd tour of Afghanistan.


I am thankful every day for those who serve/have served and never forget those who lost their lives protecting what is a great country to live in.

quote:

Originally posted by Henry:
Good stuff Royal Wulff. The reindeer sweater is funny stuff. Good luck on teaching again.

plus one....amazing the shoes some have walked. They could be standing or sitting right next to you. Or the person you hold the door for at the grocery store. Every day hero's walking amongst us.

My dad served in the Navy the tail end of WWII (he lied about his age & enlisted at 16) then served in the Army in Korea. He survived Pork Chop Hill while in Korea and carried a hunk of shrapnel in his arm from that battle as a reminder till the day he died.

The plaque was made wrong, he was actually a sergeant in Korea.

didn't know Wal-Mart was turning people away before