Lest We Forget
From time to time I check the online obits for my old home town, sadly with the passage of time I'm more frequently seeing familiar names appear.
This week, I found one for a gentleman named Robert Shiles. He passed away at the age of 89.
The Shiles family was big enough that if you were growing up in Pennsville in the '60s or '70s you probably knew some of the kids, there was bound to be one either in your grade, or the grade ahead, or the grade behind. They lived in a different part of town than I did, so I never got to know them well enough to go over to their house, or meet their father.
And so, it was upon reading the obit that I learned the following:
"He served in the US Army/ Air Corps as a first lieutenant from 1943 - 1945. He flew 35 missions in the European theater as a B-24 bombadier conducting secret night solo missions dropping supplies to the French Underground, earning the Distinguished Flying Cross, Air Medal with 3 Oak Leaf Clusters, and the European-African-Middle East Ribbon with 2 Battle Stars."
The Consolidated B-24 Liberator was a good plane, a big four-engine lumbering beast, but it was tricky to fly. It carried a heavy bomb (or in the case of Lt. Shiles, supply) load a long distance, but that range and capacity was achieved at the cost of structural strength. While the B-17 Flying Fortress was earning a reputation for enduring heavy fire and bringing crews back home with engines out and chunks of the airframe blown away, the B-24 was known as a plane that just couldn't take a hit. But, it was available, plentiful, and crews flew it. (Worth noting: 18,000 B-24s were built, making it the most-produced aircraft in US history. "Only" 12,000 B-17s were built. Today, while about a dozen B-17s are still in flying condition, only two B-24s can still take to the air.)
My point? Flying one alone, in the dark, over enemy-held territory and through enemy-controlled airspace takes guts. Doing it thirty-five times takes more than guts, it takes that special quality of determination that molded what we now call "the greatest generation."
And after the war? Mr. Shiles went back home to his bride, raised a family, got a job in the local DuPont plant, was a good worker and stayed there until retirement. He lived a good life in a small town, was surrounded by a family and friends who loved him, and spent the rest of his years enjoying the peace he had helped win.
Robert Shiles, rest in peace. And thank you.
This week, I found one for a gentleman named Robert Shiles. He passed away at the age of 89.
The Shiles family was big enough that if you were growing up in Pennsville in the '60s or '70s you probably knew some of the kids, there was bound to be one either in your grade, or the grade ahead, or the grade behind. They lived in a different part of town than I did, so I never got to know them well enough to go over to their house, or meet their father.
And so, it was upon reading the obit that I learned the following:
"He served in the US Army/ Air Corps as a first lieutenant from 1943 - 1945. He flew 35 missions in the European theater as a B-24 bombadier conducting secret night solo missions dropping supplies to the French Underground, earning the Distinguished Flying Cross, Air Medal with 3 Oak Leaf Clusters, and the European-African-Middle East Ribbon with 2 Battle Stars."
The Consolidated B-24 Liberator was a good plane, a big four-engine lumbering beast, but it was tricky to fly. It carried a heavy bomb (or in the case of Lt. Shiles, supply) load a long distance, but that range and capacity was achieved at the cost of structural strength. While the B-17 Flying Fortress was earning a reputation for enduring heavy fire and bringing crews back home with engines out and chunks of the airframe blown away, the B-24 was known as a plane that just couldn't take a hit. But, it was available, plentiful, and crews flew it. (Worth noting: 18,000 B-24s were built, making it the most-produced aircraft in US history. "Only" 12,000 B-17s were built. Today, while about a dozen B-17s are still in flying condition, only two B-24s can still take to the air.)
My point? Flying one alone, in the dark, over enemy-held territory and through enemy-controlled airspace takes guts. Doing it thirty-five times takes more than guts, it takes that special quality of determination that molded what we now call "the greatest generation."
And after the war? Mr. Shiles went back home to his bride, raised a family, got a job in the local DuPont plant, was a good worker and stayed there until retirement. He lived a good life in a small town, was surrounded by a family and friends who loved him, and spent the rest of his years enjoying the peace he had helped win.
Robert Shiles, rest in peace. And thank you.