A Bomber Crew's Long Road Home

     There was a recent news story about a World War II RAF fighter plane found in the Egyptian desert in 2012 by a Polish oil exploration crew.
     Virtually intact except for damage sustained during its crash landing, the plane and its pilot (still missing) had disappeared in June 1942. The find was described as an "aviation equivalent of Tutankhamun's Tomb." The story, however, reminded me of a discovery over fifty years earlier far more similar to the Boy King's story.
     The story begins with the building of B-24D-25 CO, Army Air Force Serial Number 41-24301, at Consolidated Aircraft Corporation's San Diego plant. She was assigned to the 514th Bomb Squadron of the 376th Bomb Group (Heavy), The Liberandos, of the 9th Bomber Command, 9th Air Force. Her pilot would be 1st Lt. William J. Hatton.
     With plane number 64 painted on its nose, the bomber and her crew left Soluch Field, just outside of Bengazi, Libya, with two dozen other B-24s on 4 April 1943. The target was Naples Harbor. Mission 109 was essentially the new crew's first combat mission. It was also their last. By the end of the day, and with but one brief communication, the fate of the bomber and her crew was unknown. After routine searches and many days, it was presumed that all nine men had perished with their Liberator, probably in the Mediterranean Sea.
     Following thorough, but fruitless investigations, the case was officially closed 15 June 1948, the fate and circumstances of number 64, code name Red Wing 4, still unresolved. Graves Registration Service, for the record, listed the crew as "unrecoverable." So ended the government's interest and the military life of 41-24301 and her crew.
     But the saga of the "Lady Be Good" resurfaced on 27 February 1959, when a British oil survey team reached the sight of a crash-landed bomber. (The aircraft was first spotted by air in 1958 by a British oil exploration team and marked on maps). Noting the smashed up warbird, the U.S. Air Force was notified.
     Beginning in March of that year, the fate and sorrow of the "Lady Be Good" unfolded. The Air Force had a plane but no crew.
     Still wearing her livery of Sand and Neutral Gray, careful examination of 41-24301, now a priceless time capsule, revealed that the radio still worked, coffee in a thermos and canteens of water still drinkable, oxygen bottles and fire extinguishers still operable, chewing gum, cigarettes and food were just as the nine men had left them. There was no battle damage. Fabric and rubber components were intact due to the hot, dry climate. Ammunition and weapons were just as deadly as on 4 April. When found the "Lady Be Good" was indeed a ghost ship on an ocean of sand.
     Whether by chance, a miracle or Providence, the full emotional impact of the recovery efforts didn't materialize until after many months of searching.
     While following a trail of shoes, parachutes, Mae Wests and other items left 17 years earlier, searchers came upon the remains of five of the crewmen, lying in close proximity to one another. Months later, three more crewmen would be found. Given the 17 years of winds and shifting sand, it was truly remarkable to find the remains and rescue them from the Saharan wasteland. The eight men were solemnly returned to their families.
     Using Army records and notes from a diary found with the remains of the co-pilot, it became obvious the "Lady" and her green crew had made a navigational error on returning to base in the dark of 4 April. Because of that and a broken radio direction finder, they had no idea they'd overshot the airfield by 440 miles.
     Thinking they were on course for Soluch but running out of fuel, the crew had bailed out. The bomber continued along in a gentle glide for about 26 more miles before reaching earth for the last time. The Calanshio Sand Sea, as timeless and unforgiving as the Sahara itself, had become the resting place for the "Lady Be Good" and her gallant crew.
     What happened over the next eight days as the survivors headed northwest...and home...was noted in 2nd Lt. Robert F. Toner's diary, the lone record of the tragic end of the "Lady Be Good."
     Written in a steady hand, the lieutenant's sparse notes of the trek painfully foretold what the final outcome would be. His words are as heart breaking today as when written in 1943. Time has not diminished the sadness nor anguish they convey.
     With only a half canteen of water and a few rations to start of with, five of the party could go no further after five days travel and eventually perished, Toner among them. The other three struggled on, in hopes of bringing back help. However, their remains too would eventually dot the bleak landscape along an unmarked path several miles long.
     Presumably killed after bailing out, the bombardier was never part of the group. In time, though, his remains would be found but not those of gunner S/Sgt. Vernon L. Moore, one of the three who had pushed on.
     The eight surviving members of the "Lady Be Good", S/N 41-24301, with high hopes but little water, had traveled 75 miles before fate and the desert swallowed them up in their quest of reaching home and safety.It wasn't until 17 years later that those eight men finally reached their destination.

Stereotyping: The Favorite American Pastime

STEREOTYPING: THE FAVORITE AMERICAN PASTIME

     The Muslim community has been viewed as "suspicious" ever since 9/11. Now, since the attacks in Paris and San Bernardino, they are even more the subject of outrage, scorn and defamation in the court of public opinion. Some "patriots" in this nation are not above wanting to line up the entire Muslim community in the sights of one kind of gun or another, one-by-one. Too many feel that is the simple solution to American security. Thus, Muslims have become the latest in a long line of "undesirables" breathing and taking up space in the land of "America for Americans."  But...

...it didn’t happen overnight, maybe settling here in 1607. But with time and great effort, millions of people, from all walks of  life and education, living in white and blue collar neighborhoods with national, ethnic and religious backgrounds too numerous to count, finally succeeded.  Unfazed by a history scarred with names like Wounded Knee, Manzanar, Little Rock…Guantanamo, “We the people…” , a proud and fortuitous nation, have become a land of bigots based on politics, race, religion, gender, you name it. And it's not getting any better.
     Black skin became a target for words, bullets, bombs….ropes. Even now, slanted eyes gets you slurred as a Chink or a Jap. Many have suffered with vile terms like spick, kike, nigger, dago, Polack, rag-head or mick. A Croation or a Serb is a dumb Hunky. If you’re Catholic, you’re labeled; be a fundamentalist Protestant, you get tagged; ditto for Jews and Muslims. Hispanics, Native Americans, people of the Middle East, fall under the all-too-familiar catchphrase, “You know, they’re all alike.” Republicans were often seen as “Birchers” (now Tea Partiers) and Democrats as Reds, Commies but now they’ve been reduced to mere Socialists. We’re Red and Blue. Once, we were Blue and Gray… but obviously we didn‘t learn from that. Thus, a shameless, collective effort has created millions of extremists from all sectors, favoring persons of a similar mentality, with the “leaders” of  America being molded, cast in our own image. And it's not getting any better.
     Numerous experts, spawned by political extremism, are no better than carnival fortune-tellers. Needing little prodding, these fractious naysayers, including toilet-tongued comics and religious "leaders", spout cleverly deceptive advice from their pulpits. With no real insight, understanding or conscience of their own, they continue to fan the flames of discontent and suspicion, gaining an unhealthy sway over our society. A cheap, tawdry approach to politics and our social structure has managed to escalate divisiveness to intolerable heights. And it's not getting any better.
     Politicians and voters alike are cocooned within groups of self-serving interests. Fueled by fear, mistrust,ignorance and hatred, they never budge from their beliefs; never flinch from half-baked notions, dogmas or corrosive ideologies. Neither will they concede one millimeter when it comes to a self-righteous adherence in believing they have a monopoly on the truth, regardless of the subject. This arrogance is intensified by bureaucrats who represent us but who rarely speak to one another unless absolutely necessary. The Democrats and the GOP have declared themselves to be…at our expense… mortal enemies. And it's not getting any better.
     In past years, however, Senate and House members, cabinet heads… the president…occupied the same air space, socializing on a regular basis, rubbing elbows at state dinners, the opera, charity affairs, garden and cocktail parties. Opposite sides of the aisle often shared an informal meal before resuming adversarial roles on the Senate or House floor. A round of golf , a bridge game or a handball match helped elected officials get to know and better understand their friends, their allies and even their bitterest political foes.
       But the ensuing years have seen relentless stereotyping that characterizes the general populace and, like a cancer, that same attitude has reached abysmal levels within the "hallowed" walls of the White House and on Capitol Hill. And it's not getting any better.

     Behaving in a petulant, unforgiving and self-centered manner, those seated in the Legislative and Executive branches have forgotten a critical principle, one eloquently stated by Atticus Finch, the fatherly lawyer from “To Kill a Mockingbird":  “You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view…until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.” The late Dwight David Eisenhower, the 34th president of the United States,  perhaps stated it best when he said, “If you want peace, you don’t talk to your friends, you talk to your enemies.”