Remembering January 27, 1943

            Usually early in each week, I know what the upcoming blog post will be. I had written hastily a possible post but remained unsatisfied with it. As I began dressing for my outdoor chores on Friday morning, I prayed, “Lord, guide in this week’s blog.”

Throughout the morning as I prepared my notes for our Sunday School lesson, I heard Mother’s television giving news stories on the commemoration of Holocaust Remembrance Day. Then as we ate lunch, we watched a gripping interview with some of the few survivors from the Nazi death camps who told of their unimaginable treatment. They now participate in events, attempting to make their horrific experience an unforgettable part of world history so that atrocious era will never be swept away from the world’s memory with the passing of time.

Dad photographed
 exactly two months
before the sortie flown
on January 27, 1943.

Then I glimpsed another “day-in-history” type story right before beginning my writing in the afternoon. I probably would have dismissed the online story until I saw “Eighth Air Force” and “Jan. 27, 1943.” I didn’t read the article but immediately pulled Dad’s World War II memoirs from the shelf and turned quickly to Chapter 3, entitled 1943. I found these paragraphs on pages 30-31.

Edmund’s first mission over Germany was to the northern city of Wilhemshaven on January 27, 1943.  In fact, this sortie was historically the first combat bombing mission over Germany for any bomb group.  Wilhemshaven was selected as the designated target since a Nazi naval base was located at this German coastal location.  This was the inaugural flight for Edmund’s crew over the North Sea.  Dreadful thoughts filled his head as he gazed at the choppy ice in the frigid water of the North Sea from his top turret position.  From takeoff to landing, this mission was logged as requiring five hours and thirty-five minutes.

     Edmund retained a clipping of the article relating to the historic mission taken from The Stars and Stripes on January 27, 1943.  Edmund wrote at the top of the article “53 fortresses.”  Only B-17F Flying Fortresses took part in this mission.  At this early stage of the air war, they were unescorted or unaccompanied by Allied fighter planes and yet had to combat the enemy fighters they met in the air.  At the time Wilhelmshaven was one of the most prominent naval bases in Germany.  It was located 380 miles east of London.  Its importance stemmed from its dry docks, sub pens, and shipyards.¹² 

      An article from the Ponca City News dated February 1, 1943, reported of Edmund’s squadron being credited with shooting down thirteen enemy planes.  In the same article, Roy Stegall, Edmund’s high school superintendent, was quoted as identifying Edmund as ‘an “A” student.’¹³ In retrospect, Edmund was not sure this was an accurate report of his school record from Burbank High School.*

                If Edmund Gates, Jr., my father, sat across from us today to discuss this day 80 years ago when the Eighth Air Force first flew a mission over Germany, he would credit Fred Rabo, his crew’s pilot and his dear friend. Dad would say, “The only protection we had was high altitude and close formation. Fred could fly the old bomber.” He would also remind how serious his crew remained when they were over enemy territory and until they could see the White Cliffs of Dover or the lighthouses that dotted the English coast.

                He would not end our conversation without declaring he went all the way through the war without being a Christian. Then he would say with a tear in his eye and a slight quiver in his voice, “But God was good to me to bring me home.”

                If we mentioned today was Holocaust Remembrance Day, Dad would comment, “We didn’t know how bad Hitler was treating the Jews. We would have fought even harder.”

                Considering Holocaust Remembrance Day, let’s reread Deuteronomy 7 where Moses discussed the chosen status of Jewish people. Verse six states, For you are a holy people to the Lord your God; the Lord your God has chosen you to be a people for Himself, a special treasure above all the peoples on the face of the earth.

                God chose the Jewish people to reveal Himself, His commandments, the holy scriptures, and ultimately, His Son, Jesus. What a gracious God to show His lovingkindness to Dad who served his country and fought a tyrannical, evil regime that led  ultimately to the Jewish people's return to their own land! Yet through the Jewish nation, the Savior had come and on December 11, 1945, Jesus gave grace, forgiveness, and salvation to Dad upon his return home. How graciously God protected him every moment of the 25 missions he had flown!**

This was taken early in their missions as a crew. I was told these were
purposely taken soon after they reached the shores of England. They
had only flown two missions before this photograph. Less than two
weeks after the crew flew the sortie on January 27, 1943, Charles
 Peterson was killed when he was asked to fly with another crew. 

*These paragraphs were lifted from Okie Over Europe published in 2015 by Dad's nephew, Daniel Edmund Newland. I am indebted to Danny for doing this for Dad.

**Charles Harris, an aviation historian, told me for the first half of Dad’s missions the survival ratio was only one in three crewmen.

Remembering Helen Rice Born 95 Years Ago

I have seen a squirrel scampering near the bunk feeders several times this month. When I see a squirrel, I think of Helen Rice who was the only one I know who had a pet squirrel, but there was so much more to this delightful woman than that as the following blog will show. 

            This January marks the 95th year since the birth of  Helen Ladema Foust Rice. Helen was born on January 11, and spent her early childhood in Fairfax, with her sister, Waunetia, who was 13 years older.

         On September 2, 1950, Helen married Virgil Rice, the nephew of my maternal grandma, Gladys Rainey Smith. They moved to the Big Bend, living near the Arkansas River, a little over one mile south of the Belford School House. It became Grandma’s mission to be sure Helen had entered a relationship with Jesus. Grandma always deemed that most important in the lives of her loved ones.

           Grandma told Helen scriptures such as “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” and “Surely there is not a righteous man on earth who does good and never sins.” and “The soul that sins shall die.” Helen told my mother that Grandma made the truths of scripture come alive as they never had before to her. She told Mother, “I was afraid to drive to town without being saved.” Helen soon received Jesus, trusting Him to forgive her sins, and give her His righteousness.

Maxine Hines Rice, Gladys Rainey Smith, and
Helen Foust Rice at Daisy Rice's home on
Thanksgiving in the 1970s.

            Helen began her walk with Jesus in the early 1950s. It was never a flamboyant one – just a consistent walk with faithful obedience. Helen worked behind the scenes – inviting people to church, encouraging those who had become discouraged in their walk with the Lord, and bringing her joyful spirit to many.
            Helen served faithfully caring for little ones for many years in the church’s Sunday School nursery. Her petite frame never kept her from holding precious babies and loving and teaching the youngest toddlers.
            She prepared and served at scores of dinners for grieving families that she helped host with other women at the church. Her love, compassion and prayers were always stirred into the delicious dishes and desserts she baked for sorrowful people.
            For several of his high school years and beyond, my brother-in-law worked for Virgil, Helen’s husband, and Rick, her son, in their agriculture operation in the Bend. Ben, my brother-in-law, said he hardly ever sat down to one of the many, many meals that Helen prepared for him wihout her making the comment, "I hope it will be fit to eat." Every meal proved to be tasty and nourishing.
           Money management skills are so important in our world today. Helen could have given a proven effective short course in personal finances. She knew how to use each dollar to the max. Yet she kept a beautiful home and dressed impeccably when she went out. Even when working at home, she looked “put together.”
           I have written about planting tomatoes in the flower beds behind Mother’s home. I was inspired partly by Helen. She liked egg plants so planted them in her beds on the north side of her home.
           In Helen’s last years, she battled cancer, requiring many chemotherapy treatments. She faced courageously the side effects of the treatment. Her indomitable spirit led her to bake cakes for neighbors and friends going through difficulty in Fairfax, where she and Virgil had moved prior to his death. She insisted on attending church as often as she could even during her prolonged fight against the vicious disease.

Helen and my parents, Bernyce and Edmund
Gates, posed for a 2002 Christmas photo at the
 home of Angie and Ben Bradley in Oklahoma
City. 

            Helen’s desires for the best for her husband, son, grandsons, and her daughter-in-law determined so many of her day-to-day decisions and activities. Barbara, her daughter-in-law, developed a closeness with Helen after her marriage to Rick. Helen shared all types of tips for caring for a home and loved ones. Barbara and I laughed many times over Helen admonishing her to “press” the jeans of Helen’s grandsons, Tyler and Caleb, because ironed jeans made a young man look so well-kept in Helen's eyes!
           The last time I saw Helen was just days before her passing on March 20, 2005. Rick and Barbara were caring for her in her home at Fairfax. It was so hard for her to be confined to her bed and not able to be the hospitable hostess she always had been. Even in her weakened state, she maintained a spirit of joy, not because of the terminal illness, but because God had blessed her with a family who lovingly cared for her.

In May of 2019, this squirrel
reminded me of Helen. It was at the 
bunk feeders, appearing to pose. This 
was my favorite shot.

          My mother laughs every time she relates this funny incident that occurred when Helen and Virgil were newlyweds in their early 20s. Helen and Virgil had a pet squirrel that they kept indoors in their home. (As a child, I loved that house because it had a spacious wrap-around porch.) Mother said they had a box of chocolates. While Helen and Virgil were away, their pet squirrel took each piece of chocolate and placed them meticulously on the tops of the drapes in their living room. The heat melted the chocolate and redecorated the draperies!

          For this reason, every time I see a squirrel on Mother’s place, I smile and think of Helen. The scampering squirrels remind me of Helen. She never appeared lethargic but was energetic in her endeavors. The squirrels provide for their needs in the harshest of times. Helen’s forward thinking met the needs of her family, home and church. Finally, the squirrels do exactly what God created them to do. Helen's life was lived doing unselfishly what He planned for her.
         Paul wrote, “…If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.” Helen illustrated this beautifully in her walk with the Lord.

*Sketch of Helen’s Ancestry in the Early 20th Century                 John A. Foust, the grandfather of Helen, his wife and four children including Helen’s father, Lawrence Lee, were counted in the 1900 U.S. Census. Helen’s father had been born in Lamont, Oklahoma in 1896. His father was listed as a farmer around Lamont in Grant County in the census record.                  Ten years later, Lawrence’s family had relocated to Kansas. In the 1910 United States Census, his father, John, and mother, Charlottie, were recorded along with their nine children ranging in age from age 17 down to 6 months old. John rented land and farmed in the extreme northeast corner of Cowley County.                 Lawrence married Helen’s mother, Cora Martin when he was 19, and she was age 15. Their marriage license issued in Noble County of Oklahoma required parental consent by his father, John and Cora’s mother, Julia Hough.

The Two Heroines - Grandma and Fancy

               The recent flooding in California brought into our conversations this family incident that occurred over 90 years ago.

                One of the most prominent statues in my childhood was the Pioneer Woman located in Ponca City, Oklahoma, the largest city closest to our farm. The statue to honor all women who were instrumental in settling this area was decided by a contest for sculptors. As a teenager, I always enjoyed looking at the 12 small entries for the competition that remain on display in the Woolaroc Museum, near Bartlesville, Oklahoma.
                For a long time, I knew that our family had its own pioneer women with nerves of steel and an unwavering determination. One of those women was Rosa Jarrell Rainey, my maternal great-grandmother. I have written several blog postings about her.
                In 1989, while on a family vacation in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, we visited Abundant Memories Village. As we wandered through the exhibits of yesteryear, Dad spotted the buggy in the photograph below. I was treated to a retelling of an event in the life of his mother, Mamie Irene Tripp Gates.
                In the late 1920s, my grandma traveled into town in a buggy similar to the one featured in the photograph. Old Fancy, the family’s trusted bay mare, pulled the buggy. My father described the buggy as a “two-seater, black buggy with shafts and a buggy top that could be pulled up in case of rain.” Dad said the term “two-seater” derived from the seat accommodating two adults. He quickly added that several little children could fit on the seat.

This is the buggy in the museum that prompted Dad to retell
the story of Grandma Gates fording the flooded creek. Dad
noted the buggy top that could be pulled up to provide
protection from a rain shower.

According to Dad, Grandma had Herbie, the baby at that time, and Martha, who was around four years old, with her. Grandma was not just having a “day out”, but was getting groceries for her family of nine, that included Grandma, her husband, Edmund, Sr. and the seven children that were at home at that time.

                Grandma purchased all the items on her list, loaded the groceries and two “babies,” as Dad referred to Herb and Martha. Perhaps that was how Grandma referred to Herbie and Martha as she told the story.

                It had rained heavily between the time Grandma had crossed the creek near the Belford School earlier in the day and when she was returning. (The creek runs south of the Mitchell family farm in the Big Bend community. In those days, it was known as the Betts Place since it was owned by Lora Kirk Betts, the mother of Eloise MItchell and Marilyn Mills.)

                People were waiting for the creek to go down before trying to cross it. The creek was flooded around four feet deep. Grandma approached the creek in her buggy and was cautioned to wait. Her reply was, “I have to get home.” Evidently, she had not heard the much-used warning of the 21^st century, “Turn around. Don’t drown.”

                Grandma signaled to Old Fancy. The bay horse obediently plunged into the swollen, muddy creek waters. The small buggy washed sideways as the floodwater surged dangerously into and through the buggy, soaking the groceries. Faithful, strong Fancy pulled the drenched buggy through the flooded creek, assuring the safe arrival onto the west bank of Grandma, the two little ones, and damp groceries. 

A photograph of Fancy with Ella and Mary, the two oldest sisters of my
father. The photo was taken a few years before Fancy pulled the buggy
through the flooded creek waters. to safety. (Brenda Gates provided the 
photo.)

                I like to think that determination remains a part of her descendents’ DNA. (Some call it stubbornness, whereas others refer to this characteristic with the term “bull-headed.) Often this "bulldog tenacity," a favorite phrase of my father's, results from facing a difficult situation and deciding to tackle it fiercely with all our resources. Our sense of responsibility, an unachieved goal, or the resistance to admit failure drives us to press ahead to complete a project or accomplish a seemingly impossible task.

                Many times I have experienced knowing what I needed to do. Then I have found myself praying, “Lord, it seems this is what You want me to do. Help me, Lord, help me.”

                The Lord has been faithful to strengthen me, enabling me to accomplish something far beyond my capabilities and in spite of my fear. Only He is worthy of praise for the favorable outcome.

                 Even with the DNA inherited from Grandma coupled with her modeling determination all through her life, we who descend from her must recognize the Lord alone gives success, protection, and strength. 

                Psalm 124:1, 4-5 persists in my thoughts.May these verses that pervade my mind reinforce each reader's moment-by-moment need to depend on Him.

If it had not been the Lord who was on our side,...Then the waters would have overwhelmed us, The stream would have gone over our soul; Then the swollen waters would have gone over our soul.