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Veteran’s Day, or Remembrance Day as
some countries call it, is
celebrated on Nov. 11 because the Allied nations and Germany signed an
armistice, or a temporary halting of hostilities during World War I, on the
11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918. Much has been written about this period of history, and many
of you may have relatives who played a part, if not in WWI than in later
conflicts. In today’s world, we honor not only those who fought in WWI, but all
of our veterans.
My dad joined the Army Air Corp by using his brother’s birth certificate as he was too young at the time to join. After first enlisting, he later re-upped and went to Officer Candidate School and became a pilot. He flew in the Berlin Air Lift at the end of WWII, delivering supplies to blockaded Berlin. During his career he also flew missions to Vietnam and played “cat and mouse” with the Russians during the cold war. He set records for distance and speed as new transport aircraft were constantly being built. When he’d go on a mission, we never knew where or how long he’d be gone. He didn’t talk about it, and now that he has passed away, there are so many things I wish I had asked him. Not so much about where he flew, but why he risked his life; why he stayed in the Air Force for 23 years instead of returning to civilian life.
Because
he had retired by the time grandkids came along, they only knew him as Grandpa
Rusty, who would pile them in the back of his pickup and take them to Dairy
Queen. They never knew that other part of his life. When he was perhaps 75
years old, I decided to write a creative non-fiction story about the Air Lift
for his grandchildren. I had to do a lot of research and I was surprised at the
amazing things those young pilots did at that time. It was hard to imagine my
dad at 23 years of age, a cocky “fly boy” and quite handsome in his uniform. He
flew 100 missions along a narrow corridor with anti-aircraft flac exploding on
both sides of his airplane. He had little in the way of radar. The planes took
off and landed only seconds apart and if for some reason they couldn’t land,
they had to return to base without delivering their much needed supplies. It
was an operation that people said couldn’t be done and yet ended in success.
My dad lost his vision later in life, and eventually could hardly walk, but every Memorial Day and Veteran’s Day he would be on his brother’s porch for the parade as the bands marched by. And he would say, “Tell me when the flag comes”, and when we told him, he would stand and salute.
I am so
proud to be the daughter of a veteran. It’s not said often enough, but THANK
YOU to all the men and women who have spent their lives in service to their
country to ensure the freedoms we still enjoy today.
Barb Baldwin
http://www.authorsden.com/barbarajbaldwin
https://bookswelove.net/baldwin-barbara/
