Eyes of Blue

            June 15 marks what would have been Dad’s 121st birthday. The last few weeks I have thought about his eyes. He looked intently and purposefully from his blue eyes. Usually his eyes sparkled expressively with excitement over what was next to do no matter how small or seemingly insignificant the task or event, often saying, “Just whatever you want to do, honey!”

           A few days ago, when gathering the flowers from Pixley Cemetery, I recalled how keenly he looked “out of his eyes.” On the heels of that thought, I remembered the passage below from his military memoirs, Okie Over Europe.

               The Army Air Force fought a faceless enemy in the skies over Europe. On one rare occasion, Edmund distinctly saw the face of a German fighter pilot as he deliberately flew his FW-190 into their formation.  Edmund thought when he looked into his face, “He’s just as scared as I am.”  Indelibly imprinted in Edmund’s memory was the mutual expression of fear exchanged in that brief moment by the young German fighter pilot and him. Then the enemy pilot tipped one wing, barely missed Edmund’s plane, and targeted another bomber in the squadron below.  The lower squadrons were far more vulnerable because of their position on the fringe of the formation allowing for easier accessibility by the Germans. 

                Just the day prior, Edmund’s crew experienced a combat mission of over five hours with no friendly fighter escorts.  How difficult to imagine the amount of inner strength, stamina, and courage required to climb back on the Flying Fortress and fly another combat mission lasting seven hours and fifty-five minutes! 

                What relief and inner encouragement flooded Edmund as he caught the first glimpse of the White Cliffs of Dover as they flew over the English Channel approaching the English coast.  Those imposing precipices always symbolized safety and signaled the near completion of a successful mission.  Even in the song, White Cliffs of Dover, the massive promontories are associated with the peace and security of a happier time the songwriter was anticipating in the future.

Taken on April 10, 1943

            As Dad would often say, “The mind is a funny thing.” As I  rounded slowly one of the curves on Pixley Road, I thought Was that German fighter pilot close enough to see Dad’s eyes?
            Dad recounted the experience when he talked about his second combat mission. He was by no means a seasoned B-17 crew member. Neither were any of the others on the ten-man crew. Interestingly, the photo to the right was taken during the first half of his combat missions. His steely eyes say to me, “I mean business.” Maybe that is the determined look the Folke Wulf 190 pilot saw. (Click on this link to see how Dad developed a determination of steel Faith_Family_Farm: Maybe It Was Spring Fever (bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com)).

           Then I picked up one of the photos Ron Bledsoe, my oldest cousin, gave us from the photograph collection of his now deceased mother, Ella Gates Bledsoe. One can see Dad has already earned the Distinguished Flying Cross in this photo below taken in London, England on a "three-day pass." The ceremony awarding it occurred just before his crew took a direct hit over Berlin on the mission immediately after the final mission he had flown with them. In the photo, his eyes are trying to smile. 

           Dad never forgot the loss of friends/fellow crewmen and the trauma of not knowing for around a year where the four MIAs on the fated Berlin mission ended up that March day in 1944 (For more about Dad's crew being shot down over Berlin, go to this link: https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2017/02/neither-of-them-got-over-march-6-1944.html).

          The third and final photo captures Dad's military persona and Mother treasures it most. It represents that he overcame and was continuing with his life. (Click on this link to learn more about Dad's rehab: https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2017/09/my-dads-connection-with- hurricane-irma.html).
          On the last morning that Dad ate breakfast, the nod of his head and his eyes conveyed that he was right where he wanted to be when I mentioned he could see Big Bend Road outside the window. Dad was a good patient for the three years and seven months following his first stroke. He never complained. His health care workers complimented him on how hard he worked to comply with therapy or whatever they requested of him.
          These verses convey Dad’s simple but profound philosophy. The first verse written by David, explains that his eyes are on God, affirms he is sheltering in God and requests God be faithful to him.
But my eyes are upon You, O God the Lord; In You I take refuge; Do not leave my soul destitute. (Psalm 141:8)
          The second verse from Hebrews 12:2 builds on the first one, reminding us to focus our eyes on Jesus.
Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before Him He endured the cross, scorning its shame and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

Mother's Favorite Photo of Dad from His Stint in World War II
   Below is a link to read how Mother described Dad:

                                      https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2019/06/celebrating-edmund-gates-jr-on-100th.html