Neither of Them Got Over March 6, 1944

Sometimes in dealing with grief, we can view how those we respect have handled crushing sorrow in the past. My own father came to mind since his world was turned upside down 73 years ago, on March 6, 1944.

                My mother, Bernyce Smith Gates, received a v-mail from him dated February 20, 1944. Optimism exuded from his news. He had “completed his tour of duty” but was censored from divulging how many combat missions he had flown. He conveyed he was finished flying and had begun instructing. Although he was restricted from telling his 19-year-old girlfriend any specifics, a yellowed copy of a recommendation for a direct commission as a gunnery officer are in his military keepsakes. 

                Before daybreak, his “old” crew departed for one of the first missions over Berlin. His crew, commanded by Major Fred Rabo, the pilot, was briefed to fly the position of lead plane over the target. Tom Kon, Alvie Wescott, Edward Friesorger, and Steve Keaton tried to coax Dad to fly his position of upper turret gunner and serve as flight engineer, even though they knew he had completed the required 25 missions and had been awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross. (I was told by Charles W. Harris, a World War II aviation expert, that of the airmen that flew in 1943, statistically, only one out of three survived. Dad flew missions throughout that year.) The airmen who completed 25 combat missions were grounded after completing the 25th mission.

Edward Freisorger, My father,
Edmund Gates, Jr., Steve Keaton
and Tom Kon. Happy times in
England. Dad was the only one
of the four that was not a POW or
killed in action.

Edward Freisorger had
almost impercetibly signed
on this photograph, Your
Waist Gunner. Best of Luck
and may you live to be old
and gray, Gates. Freisorger
 died on March 6, 1945.

                His close friends mentioned above left their wallets with him as they prepared for departure. I am pained to imagine the devastation he felt when he learned his former crew took a direct hit from the anti-aircraft fire over Berlin. Since it was a historic mission, a general accompanied the 10-man crew. Seven out of eleven were killed, including his dear friend, Tom Kon, the radio operator, with whom he had been for two years from their early days of training over the Mojave Desert in California. Edward Friesorger, the right waist gunner, also was reported as a casualty. 

                His close friend, Fred Rabo, the pilot, parachuted out just before the B-17 exploded over Berlin, although he never recalled pulling the ripcord. Red Morgan, the co-pilot, bailed out, too. The two enlisted men, Alvie Wescott and Steve Keaton, who flew the ball turret position and the tail gunner position, jumped out over enemy territory. As Dad would say, the rest of the crew and the general “rode the old bomber down.” He spoke of the incredible loneliness and heartache that he felt in the stillness of that evening in the barracks by himself without his crew....his combat brothers.

William H. Wescott aka "Alvie"
taken on May 9. 1945, 10 days
after being liberated from the
prison camp in Germany.

                The military immediately began processing Dad’s transition back to the States. He was teamed with Harold Armstrong, another airman, and did a tour of a factory in England that made flak jackets. Later the two were interviewed by the BBC as a morale boosting broadcast. It seemed these responsibilities were given to him to divert his thoughts from the events of March 6.

                Not long before Dad’s stroke, he indicated that he was personally escorted to El de France, the ship that would transport him back to the United States. That made me question his state of mind. His trip home from Glasgow, Scotland, to New York Harbor began.

Dad returned to the States and after a furlough home, traveled to Miami Beach then on to St. Petersburg, Florida, spending the bulk of the six weeks there at an Air Force convalescent center.  This time seemed to be an effort by the military to help Dad deal with the loss of his crew.

Before his death, Fred Rabo and his wife, Dorothy, came from California to visit in Oklahoma. He told Dad that it had hurt him greatly to look back from the cockpit to see Tom Kon was down. The three of them had been together since their training days. Fred’s family said it was hard for him to talk about his World War II experiences, since he broke down in tears. My cousin, Daniel Edmund Gates, related that as a young boy the first time he showed Dad a book about the Eighth Air Force that Dad said, “Danny, I don’t talk about that because it makes me cry.” (Fred told Mother only Dad and he could understand what had happened to them on March 6, 1944.)

Fred and Dad at my parents' home in 1989. (Fred
         and Dorothy were married 58 years. Dad and
          Mother were married 67 years. The two airmen
           and the loves of their lives totaled 125 years of
              marital commitment to each other. The "Fort" and
           their crew photograph are in the background.

          Fred Rabo and the other three were released from the German prison camp where they were held near the end of the war in Europe. It was rumored the entire prison camp where Fred was detained was scheduled for annihilation. However, before the order was carried out, Fred was freed.

Fred returned to his home in northern California and began a successful farming and ranching career. Dad loved raising cattle. He developed his skill and reputation as a carpenter. Yet neither of them ever got over March 6, 1944.

Both built strong, long-lasting marital relationships. They raised families. In their communities, they gained respect of their neighbors. But they never got over that ill-fated day over Hitler’s Nazi capital.

How did my father keep off the road of self-destructiveness after his great loss in 1944? How did Dad remember men, with whom he served, that paid the “ultimate price” by giving their lives for freedom, yet maintain his stability? How did he retain a loving faithfulness to Mother, provide purposeful fathering to Angie and me, and remain a man who valued people above all else?

Dad was raised with principles and a respect for the Bible. When my maternal grandmother, Gladys Rainey Smith, presented what the Bible said about humans’ sinfulness, Dad agreed he wasn't perfect, but thought his exploits over enemy territory earned him points with God. Grandma continued confronting him with his own sinfulness, no matter how much good he thought he had done. He was shown the verse that Peter quoted in his first sermon recorded in Acts 4. Peter preached about Jesus being crucified and closed his message with the statement in Acts 4:12.

Neither is there salvation in any other;

 for there is no other name under heaven given among men,

whereby we must be saved.

Finally, Dad embraced that life-changing belief in Jesus on December 11, 1945. The commitment he made permeated his life and interactions with his family, neighbors, and his fellow Christians. I never saw anger, debilitating depression, or harshness in his life that could have stemmed from his wartime experiences, even during his toughest battle as a stroke patient the last 43 months of his life. Even though he never got over March 6, 1944, he turned his loss and sorrow into a tribute to those who “never came back” by living out his faith and patriotism each day to the very end of his life.

Only the Lord knows the number of days we have on the earth. May we make the same decision that my father made in 1945, by asking Jesus to forgive our sins, relinquishing our tight grip on doing what we want to do, and instead obeying the directives in His Word. Dad would assure us living God’s way brings rewards in this life – he enjoyed life to the fullest – and now is experiencing eternal dividends that are beyond understanding with our finite minds.

               May we follow Paul's admonition written to Titus in the book bearing his name in chapter 2, verses 6-8:

Likewise, urge the younger men to be self-controlled. Show yourself in all respects

to be a model of good works, and in your teaching show integrity, dignity, and 

sound speech that cannot be condemned, so that an opponent may be

 put to shame having nothing evil to say about us.

Paul wrote to the believers in Galatia the secret to living that life in chapter 2, verses 19-20:

What actually took place is this: I tried keeping rules and working my head off to please God, and it didn’t work. So I quit being a “law man” so that I could be God’s man. Christ’s life showed me how, and enabled me to do it. I identified myself completely with him. Indeed, I have been crucified with Christ. My ego is no longer central. It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion, and I am no longer driven to impress God. Christ lives in me. The life you see me living is not “mine,” but it is lived by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I am not going to go back on that. (The Message)

Note: To learn more about Fred Rabo, his contribution to the Eighth Air Force, and the events of March 6, 1944, complete with interesting photographs, go to this link:  http://www.482nd.org/h2x-mickey

Many of the facts regarding Dad's experience on March 6, 1944, can be found in Okie Over Europe, available for checkout at the Fairfax Public Library in Fairfax and the Pawnee Public Library in Pawnee. The Woodland High School and Middle School house copies as well. All of these entities are located in Oklahoma.