Saluting a Veteran

            As Veterans Day approached, I chose this passage from the military account of my father’s years serving during World War II.  He recalled in Chapter 4, based on his experiences in 1944, a unique responsibility given to him following his return to the States after completing his tour of duty in the European theater. 

Portrait of Dad  taken in London shortly after
being awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross.

Dad earned the Distinguished Flying Cross in February of the same year when he completed 25 combat missions as an upper turret gunner/flight engineer on a B-17 bomber crew. He then began training young airmen since he had been recommended for a direct commission as a gunnery officer. However, his course drastically changed when his crew went down as the lead plane over Berlin after taking a direct hit. He was quickly processed to return home. More about this time in his life can be found in the posting entitled Neither of Them Got Over March 6, 1944 and accessed at: bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2017/02/neither-of-them-got-over-march-6-1944.html

By May of that year, Dad had arrived in Oklahoma. Against all advice, he requested to be based in Ardmore, Oklahoma. Much to the surprise of his advisors, he was assigned to Gene Autry Air Base, exactly as Dad had hoped. This section lifted from his memoirs details his new assignment.

Edmund’s superiors made a unique request of Edmund based on his prewar agricultural experience. He was asked if he would be willing to supervise German prisoners of war as they worked in the huge base victory garden of four to five acres. Edmund was put in charge of seventy-five to one hundred twenty-five German POWs. The number of garden laborers fluctuated. 

One German prisoner of war was fluent in English and served as Edmund’s interpreter. In a time of relaxation, as Edmund and his German interpreter were resting, three or four B-17s flew over the Gene Autry Army Air Base. As they both glanced upward, Edmund casually inquired as to whether he had ever seen B-17s fly over Germany. Immediately his German interpreter responded, “Some days we didn’t move for hours until those bombers flew over.” Edmund mused within himself of missions when the bombers could have numbered as many as 1,500 planes in the German sky. He thought it prudent not to tell his German POW interpreter that he flew twenty-five missions over German-controlled territory on Flying Fortresses exactly like those roaring above them. The divulgement of Edmund’s previous military exploits might have damaged the otherwise cooperative and amiable working relationship between the two of them.

The enormous victory garden, with Edmund as the overseer, was in the midst of harvesting vegetables like carrots, potatoes, cabbage, cauliflower, and turnips. The German prisoners were diligent, exemplary workers. Edmund never sensed any action that could be construed as complaining or insubordination. Perhaps the fact that he wore simple working fatigues as opposed to a uniform may have contributed to the German prisoners’ willing compliance in this horticultural endeavor. Edmund communicated only work directives to the laborers. Other casual exchanges of cordial friendliness were impossible since Edmund must rely on his interpreter to communicate for him. Edmund focused on his basic duty of simply insuring that all workers continued doing the task assigned to them for that day.  The prisoners he supervised were physically larger and of a stockier build than Edmund. His height was only five feet eight, and his weight was about 165 pounds. His imposing physique was obviously not the reason for Edmund’s achievement as the overseer of the productive victory garden. Edmund contributed the success of the agricultural venture to the work ethic instilled from a young age in the industrious German prisoners of war.

 This supervisory assignment of the German POWs working in the base’s victory garden seemed uncharacteristic for a decorated airman who had recently returned from his flying exploits over enemy territory in Europe. Now he had been asked to oversee workers from the enemy country where his buddies had given their lives. 

At this point, Dad had been informed all his crew were missing in action. He had received a letter from his pilot’s wife earlier in the year. Dorothy Rabo, the young bride of Fred Rabo, felt in her heart that Fred, Dad’s pilot and dear friend, was alive. (Later, Dorothy's intuition proved correct, with Fred surviving as a POW, along with three others. The other seven crew members were killed.)

With uncertainty in his heart, Dad returned to the soil. My mother mentioned as we discussed this juncture of my father’s life that Dad readily followed orders. He learned that as a young boy on the farm due to the discipline his parents instilled in him. For this reason, superintending a large “truck patch” did not seem beneath his ranking as a Tech Sergeant in the newly formed Army Air Force. He was merely obeying a directive and being subordinate.

Dad’s friend and dentist, Dr. Gary Henderson, indicated that he knew all the military stories in Dad’s memoirs but expressed surprise that Dad had earned the Distinguished Flying Cross. Never had Dad mentioned that to him. This same understated attitude about accolades received during his World War II service, made it easy for him to remain tight lipped with his German POW interpreter about his combat activity in Europe during 1942-1944.

Perhaps Dad renewed his inner strength as he witnessed the production, growth, and harvest of the enormous garden, much larger than any his mother had raised in the Big Bend. The slow pace of gardening and the interaction with capable German soldiers who much like him had responded to serve their country may have been therapeutic. Unfortunately, the homeland of these German POWs was led by a power-crazed, maniacal leader.

The agricultural setting removed Dad and the German POWs from the volatile situation that had placed them in adversarial positions. Their common goal to successfully raise vegetables from the earthy bed united them in their efforts and purpose. Dad, especially, must have experienced healing by letting go of his sorrow and loss, realizing nothing would be gained by allowing it to be a driving force in his life.

Much like Dad, many of us can find healing and renewal in tasks that appear mundane and even, mindless. Seldom do we realize that it is God’s way of removing us from the harried pace with its frustrations, failures, and disappointments to rejuvenate our souls. Jesus even told His disciples at one point to in Mark 6:31, Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.

As my father did, almost eighty years ago, may all veterans along with us find God’s purpose and His peace as we choose His pace. May we cease striving and know that He is God; He will be exalted among the nations, He will be exalted in the earth as David so eloquently penned in Psalm 46:10.

Lord, bless the veterans in our communities with Your strength. In turn, may Your Name be honored by their endeavors so our communities will flourish. Thank You for strong men and women who faithfully served our country. Bless them as they live out Your principles throughout their lives.