Tomorrow is Memorial Day and we as a nation and as individuals turn our attention to the men and women of the nation who served our country and have now crossed over into eternity. For me it is really a time of reflection on my Mom and Dad. Their bodies rest in the Houston National Cemetery and they live in God's presence.
I rarely speak of either of them in the past tense. This is because I believe that God has given them eternal life and though their bodies have died they live on.My dad was a farm boy from North East Texas. Well, in his case "boy" might not be the right word since he was 29 years of age when he was drafted into the United States Army Air Force. So in May 1942 he said his goodbye's to friends and family and made his way to Fort Sam Houston. It was here that he completed his basic training and learned that he would be attending engineering school in Seattle, Washington at the Boeing Assembly Plant. Supervised by Army officers and trained by Boeing engineers he became an expert on the heavy bomber known as the B-17. He even had a certificate from both the Army Air Force and the Boeing Corporation to that effect.
After a few more advanced engineering courses he and a crew of 9 other men were assigned a brand new B-17 bomber and ordered to England via Iceland to join the 8th United States Army Air Force as a part of one of their heavy bomber groups. However, when they arrived in England and reported to the Personnel Assignment Office they discovered that the 8th AAF did not need them but did need their airplane.
Dad and others who were a part of the group bringing the B-17's to England found themselves without a home or an assignment. Fortunately, the 9th. AAF was moving back to England from North Africa and needed personnel. Dad found himself assigned to the 9th AAF, 52nd Troop Carrier Wing, 315 Troop Carrier Group, 35th. Squadron. Dad said it was the best thing that could have happened. He later learned that the B-17 he had given up to the 8th. AAF was shot down on a bombing mission.
After a quick trip to North Africa for Operation Husky where they backed up elements of the 12th AAF he returned to Spanhoe, England from which he participated in paratrooper drops in the early morning hours of June 6, 1944 (Normandy) when he dropped elements of the 82nd. Airborne's 504th PIR. Later he would participate in Paratrooper Drops during Operation Market Garden dropping the same 504 PIR along with British and Polish paratroopers. For all his combat flights he received the Air Medal with Oak Leaf Cluster.His Squadron also regularly flew the Glenn Miller band back and forth to Paris and have long challenged the official story of Miller's death. I have heard stories from Dad's fellow airmen that cause me to be skeptical of the official story as well.
It was in 1943 that Dad met my mother while on leave in London. She had probably seen more war than had he. She lived through the blitz of London. I have seen the chart showing the location of well over 100 bombs, many of which were high explosive, in and around their home on Beatrice Road in Bermondsey, a suburb of London.
In January 1945 they were married and in August of that same year Dad was ordered to Trinidad. So late in the month he said his goodbye's and along with a stick of paratroopers left England for Trinidad. For the next three months he ferried returning soldiers to West Miami Beach as they then headed for the places where they first became soldiers to be demobilized and become private citizens once again.
In late November Dad turned down an offer to re-enlist and be a part of the formation of the USAF and was immediately ordered to Fort Sam Houston where he himself would be demobilized. My mom would follow soon by making the transatlantic crossing on the old Queen Mary (now a floating hotel in Los Angeles).
Dad was reluctant to talk about his war experience but mother was proud to expose his wartime activities. It was through her and his fellow squadron members that I learned part of what an air medal with oak leaf cluster really means. I am especially thankful to Doc Clower and Gussie Perkins for filling in so many of the blank spaces in dad's wartime experiences. One day perhaps I'll tell the whole story though I doubt doing so would make dad happy. He'd always cut any inquiries about the war off by saying, "We just did what had to be done." But I suspect the truth probably lies behind something he once said to me when I asked about his roll in the war and he said, "I had to live through all that once, why would you want me to live through it again."
Mom and Dad are both gone now. Dad died of cancer on Father's Day, July 19, 1983 at the age of 71 and Mom went to be with the Lord on March 20, 2001 at the age of 77 the result of a brain stem hemorrhage. Both are buried in the Houston National Cemetery. My dad lost a cousin in Natal, Brazil when his plane exploded on takeoff. My mom lost her fiance at Dunkirk, a cousin in Burma and countless family members in Europe.
Today, for me, mom and dad represent all the men and women who have served the country in war and in peace and now have stepped into eternity. I am thankful to God for your faithful service.
I am sure you too have a loved one who served nobly and with honor. Join me and let's honor them all.
Today, I am thinking of them and giving thanks to God for giving me to these two remarkable people. Mom, Dad, I really do miss you guys and look forward to the day when we shall be together again in God's forever family.
I look forward to the day when Isaiah 2:4, "They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore," becomes reality. Until then I give thanks to God for all those who stand in the gap and make up the wall to enable the rest of us to continue the pursuit life, liberty and happiness.
