Veteran’s Day, November 11, is a significant date on the calendar. The older a veteran lives the more he or she recalls experiences while serving our great nation. My thoughts swing first to the day on August 2, 1950, when a small group of young men were sworn into the Air Force at Fort McPherson, Atlanta, Georgia. We were impressed when an old one star general talked to us like a father and said we would become fine soldiers and serve our nation well.
I was sad boarding a train in Atlanta that headed west across the southlands to San Antonio, Texas, for our introduction to short haircuts and medical exams while standing naked in rows in a drafty hangar. However, I liked the steam driven trains that were soon to go out of business and enjoyed every minute of daylight looking out on America as we traveled westward. As a lover of western history and stories I was enjoying a dream come true!
We were given uniforms that were ill fitting and, with heads shaved, we rode another train north to go through basic training at Wichita Falls, Texas, while sweating in an August heatwave! Our TI called me “Plow boy!” when he heard I was reared on a farm in Georgia. I knew six weeks would be tough but was never fazed by the yelling and insults or the hot Texas sun.
After basic training and another train ride to a radar station near Bellefontaine, Ohio, a buddy and I were sent to Biloxi, Mississippi, on a train to learn about radar. We attended class in the mornings and were supposed to study in the afternoons, but Tex McCann and I fished instead. We caught a lot of fish and gave them away or threw them back. Fishing was great in those days!
After getting married to Florine Kelley, a lovely black haired Georgia lass I met at Truett McConnell College, I was sent to spend a year with the Third Bomb Group flying B-26 bombers near Kunsan, South Korea. Among other experiences, like the savage Siberian winter storms which roared down from the north, I was seriously ill with Asiatic flu for a couple of weeks. Then our commander, Col, Sherman R. Beaty, and his crew became missing in action and were later declared dead. This was my first overseas tour. Philippines and then Vietnam would come later.
