Friday, June 3, 2011

LETTERS FROM MY DAD: LET’S GO FLYING!

(Postcard from 1944)

After Pearl Harbor, 1941, each draft aged young man faced a crucial decision: should I enlist or should I wait to be drafted or “called up.” My dad grew up in a farming community in the Midwest, he dreamed big dreams of flying into “the wild blue yonder.” He enlisted in the Army Air Corps to make sure he had that chance. Failing the eye test for pilots, he thought he was washed up, done with the skies, relegated to a clerk. But he qualified for crew and Mechanics School and his chances of flying returned. Listen to his boyish enthusiasm and total excitement as he writes to my mom about flying:

Laredo Army Air Field
Saturday, May 29, 1943

Darling…

Let’s go flying! The call board reads Run 1, Flight 1A, Time 10:30 A.M., Ship 105, Pilot Wilson, Gunner 267. It’s 9:30 A.M., and time to check out at the main desk to go harmonize our guns. Well, let’s go draw our ammunition now, 100 yellow and 62 green, load it in the cans and go draw our parachute and goggles. Now for a walk down to the plane with all that equipment. (I wish I could have taken a picture of this.) Mount the gun and receive directions from the pilot.

Well, here we taxing out to the runway. As we do this, I must turn my watch to the inside of my wrist, kiss my ring, and say a short prayer for a safe return. Here we are 1,500 feet up flying 120 miles per hour. There’s a signal, load the gun. Another signal, the target is along side and we blast away. We signal the pilot and he knows we have completed firing; he peels off and heads home.

Oh! Here we go up through the clouds, up 5,000 feet. What a beautiful sight we see now, once in a while a glimpse of the earth through the clouds, but otherwise you can only see the clouds above and below. Over there, look our ship is silhouetted on a cloud and the sun reflections make a rainbow.

Oh! Oh! Here we go down, 150, 160, 190, 200, 230, 250 miles an an hour. What a thrill as we level off for the landing. Time of landing 11:25 A.M. The plane settles to the runway and we unfasten our seat belts and get ready to get out as we taxi in. We unload and walk back to check in all our equipment. Now for a Coke and then let’s head for the mess hall.

Always,
Your husband.

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