They gathered again, after half a century had flown by, in an attempt to remember the time when, as young men, they were violently taught that they too were not immortal – a time when death was a daily companion. Name badges identified those old airmen as former companions but time had blurred and weathered their faced until only a close scrutiny would recognize them. Often a name was recognized but the white- haired man was not; because of this, name badges were scrutinized again and again as they consulted the picture albums of WWII. They gathered from all parts of America – from Ft. Worth, Long Island, Pontotoc, Pine Top, Seattle, Cherokee, Portland, San Diego, Miami and all points between. Many had continued life as airmen in the armed services or as civilians with the airlines. A few were veterans of the ‘other’ wars – Korea, Vietnam and the smaller conflicts. Time had added wisdom to their many other attributes. Their first gathering had been in the early 1940’s at Army Air Force bases in the USA. These were: Louisville, Kentucky; Sedalia, Kansas; Fayetteville, North Caroline and Fort Wayne, Indiana. Later, in England they were based at Nottingham and finally, Welford Park, where they became operational. At the war’s end they were based near Paris, within sight of the Eiffel Tower. After becoming fully staffed, personnel changed constantly through the normal attrition of military operation. There is an old military cliché, “Here today and gone tomorrow.” However, the majority remained together long enough to become fast friends. And now, a half century later, they were gathering again at the Sheraton in New Orleans where a few key airmen had planned, in detail, a perfect reunion. Old, mature airmen became reacquainted in an ideal setting. “Do you remember”, was a constant question: that skinny, arthritic, seventy-five-year-young man sitting quietly there remembered. He had flown the English Channel in a C47 loaded with ammunition for Patton’s army and landed at a make-shift air strip, under fire, again and again, until he was numb with fatigue. “Do you remember?” –That short, stout, eighty-year-old man, animatedly talking on our right, had been a radio operator who watched as a platoon of paratroopers jumped behind the German lines. His plan then took a direct hit and he had followed the troopers down and had become a German prisoner for the duration of the war. “Do you remember?” – A survivor of the crash that took the lives of all his fellow crewmen sits quietly listening, as he remembers. After the Battle of the Bulge, he had returned, for reassignment to the Squadron, 50 pounds lighter and a lifetime older – lugging a P38 pistol he had taken from a German officer. “Do you remember”- A haze had hidden the airfield at Marrakesh, Morocco, and one plane, short of fuel, had landed in the desert. The next day, they were able to take off and later found the airport with only ten minutes of fuel remaining. They remember…. “Do you remember?” – The fish and chips at the train station in Reading, England were especially appetizing after the train ride from London at midnight. Afterward, the walk to the bus station, in the black-out and January fog was the darkest walk ever attempted; even Carlsbad’s caverns cannot get darker. “Do you remember?” – Those three army trucks that wrecked in the fog outside Reading killed three men and hospitalized several more. Those who were there remember the cries and moans of the dying. One was Spanish speaking – I can hear him still… “Do you remember?” – One night a British Sterling bomber, returning from a bombing raid, crashed at Welford destroying the crew and plane. I remember the “swoosh” of the blackout curtains as they were blown from the barrack’s windows. “Do you remember?” – A squadron of B26s circled low over Welford and began landing at less than minutes intervals. Fog had closed their home base and any landing was better than a crash. Tires skidded and screeched as brakes were applied on the short runway. Several were forced to taxi into the open field, at risk of getting stuck, to avoid a pile up at the runway’s end. After our C47s returned all revetments and taxi space were loaded with planes. “Do you remember?” – The ground crews were flown to France one late afternoon and off-loaded at an abandoned Luftwaffe base near Paris. They were instructed to remain where they were until the next morning because of the German booby traps. It was as cold as a brass monkey and they damn near died. I’ve never again griped about ordinary cold. “Do you remember?” – There were so many bombers flying just before the invasion that their vapor trails created a complete overcast on an otherwise clear day. The thousands of motors reverberated until the earth seemed to pulsate under our feet; even windows, tin roofing and dishes in buildings vibrated from the harmonics of the many propellers. “Do you remember?” – A glider disintegrated after a plan had towed it to an altitude of two thousand feet. The crew and all the equipment, including a Jeep, plummeted to the ground. (Glider pilots should be remembered as special heroes of the war.) “Do you remember?” – A crew and plane were lost while training in North Carolina. One crew member, Sgt. Knowlton, occupied a bunk next to me; later, I helped gather the sergeant’s belongings and also wrote a letter to the Sergeant’s fiancé. “Do you remember?” – Those anti-submarine guns that were manned, as the ship zigzagged across the North Atlantic, were manned by amateurs. An officer instructed, “Point them at anything that looks like a periscope and pull the trigger; the gun will do the rest.” As we stood watch, in the early morning hours, the phosphorescent water at the ship’s prow, with the startled flying fish skipping through the wave crests was a sight I will never forget. “Do you remember?” – We did not know our destination; so when the ship’s engines stopped and we sat motionless in an impenetrable fog we had no hint of our location. At day-break we could hear auto horns and train whistles; even voices were faintly heard. A crewman from the ship finally told us that we were in England at the port of Liverpool. “Do you remember?” – The night we anchored off Coney Island upon our return to the States? Lights were so bright that some were blinded by the glare and could not see through the tears. ‘God bless America!’ “Do you remember?” …“Do you remember?” …“Do you remember?” … Back to Cry Havoc! #45 Table of Contents Back to Cry Havoc! List of Issues Back to MagWeb Master Magazine List © Copyright 2004 by David W. Tschanz. This article appears in MagWeb.com (Magazine Web) on the Internet World Wide Web. Other articles from military history and related magazines are available at http://www.magweb.com