Our Father's Generation Read online

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Book 1 – Brother Tom, The Pilot

  Chapter 1: He’s the Oldest Son – Tells His Story First

  Chapter 2: My Girl Allie

  Chapter 3: Air Shows 1937-39

  Chapter 4: The Battle of Britain: RAF

  Chapter 5: 1st Combat – September 1940

  Chapter 6: Sarah and the USA

  Chapter 7: The Ground War

  Chapter 8: Allie, Tom’s Wife, Finishes the Story

  Book 2 – Brother Frank, The Architect

  Chapter 1: Frank Tells His Story

  Chapter 2: Rita and the Ship

  Chapter 3: Paris – Lilly

  Chapter 4: Munich, Germany

  Chapter 5: Jennifer – Hitler – Helen

  Chapter 6: Hitler’s Chauffeur – Rose

  Chapter 7: Rose – Doctor Wolfe

  Chapter 8: Rose – Helga

  Chapter 9: Helga – Nazis

  Chapter 10: Escape from Germany

  Chapter 11: The Long Road Home

  Book 3 – Brother Albert, The Infantryman

  Chapter 1: Albert Tells His Story

  Chapter 2: Wounded At Normandy

  Chapter 3: Return to Duty – The 90th Division

  Chapter 4: Battle of the Bulge

  Chapter 5: 1944 – Drive into Germany

  Chapter 6: War is Over

  Chapter 7: Augsburg, Germany – Jen – Homeward Bound

  About the Author

  Other books by F. M. Worden

  Back Cover

  Our Father’s

  Generation

  by

  F. M. Worden

  CCB Publishing

  British Columbia, Canada

  Our Father’s Generation

  Copyright ©2012 by F. M. Worden

  ISBN-13 978-1-927360-49-1

  First Edition

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Worden, F. M., 1930-

  Our father’s generation / written by F. M. Worden.

  ISBN 978-1-927360-49-1

  Also available in print format.

  I. Title.

  PS3623.O74O97 2009 813.6 C2009-906000-0

  Additional cataloguing data available from Library and Archives Canada

  Cover image is in the public domain and is used without malice.

  Disclaimer: The book Our Father’s Generation is purely fictional. Any reference to places or persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. The author intends no harm or injury to anyone.

  Extreme care has been taken to ensure that all information presented in this book is accurate and up to date at the time of publishing. Neither the author nor the publisher can be held responsible for any errors or omissions. Additionally, neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the express written permission of the publisher.

  Publisher:

  CCB Publishing

  British Columbia, Canada

  www.ccbpublishing.com

  This is the story of three brothers, Tom – Frank – Albert. Men who grew up on a Southwest cattle ranch during the great 1930's depression and served their country in its greatest hour of need, the Second World War.

  * * * * *

  This book is dedicated to the men and women of the United States and all its Allies who suffered through the 1930’s depression and the Second World War. We honor all the men and women, both military and civilian who sacrificed their lives for our freedom.

  May God’s light shine on them wherever they are.

  God Bless everyone who served.

  Book 1

  Brother Tom, The Pilot

  Chapter 1

  He’s the Oldest Son –

  Tells His Story First

  Tom’s story is dedicated to all the men and women

  who flew aircraft in wartime protecting this nation.

  He can be a fighter, bomber, transport, fernier,

  test pilot or civilian flight instructor.

  I was the first born to my Mom and Dad on a cattle ranch that my grandfather owned in the Southwest USA. The year was 1918. My Dad had just come home after the First World War was over. He had been a rifle instructor at Camp Poke, Louisiana. That’s where he met my mother, a French-American girl of nineteen and a beautiful woman she was. She was a joy and wonderful person to know in every way. Dad, so he said, swept her off her feet and she fell in love with him. They got married as soon as he was mustered out of the Army. He brought her home to the ranch. My father had been grandfather’s ranch foreman ever since, I loved them all as much as a boy can love his parents and Grandparents.

  I called Grandfather Popie. He was a big man - six feet tall, two hundred thirty pounds. He always stood ramrod straight, a shy but honest and dependable man, and as tough as nails. He homesteaded this ranch in the late 1800’s. He had come from Germany in his teen years. His Papa had always been a saloon keeper. Popie always wanted to be a cowboy and raise cattle, he said he fell in love with the West watching the cowboy silent movies and reading books about the West, he always had a big laugh saying that.

  When he heard homesteading was possible, he made his mind up to come west. He had fallen in love with his childhood sweetheart and married her just before coming west. She was a young German-Jewish girl of sixteen, who could hardly speak any English. Her family had come over to this country when she was just a baby. She had lived in a German community in Illinois all her life; she is a beauty even in her advanced age.

  My father was born on the ranch. He had never been more than a few miles away from the ranch until he joined the Army in 1916. I’ve always called Grandmother, Michelle, and my mother, Mom.

  My brother Frank was born a year after me and Al a few years later. Al was the baby of our family, he was just a little spoiled. Mothers, you know, tend to spoil the last born.

  I first became fascinated with air-o-planes when I was 10 or 11 years old. I was sitting on my cow horse during a roundup; I could see the airport down in the valley below. I watched one plane take off and circle above me in a lazy fashion in the cloudless blue sky. It was a two-winged plane and as I watched, it made all kinds of spins, loops and turns that looked to be fun to a kid of my age. I made my mind up right then and there to be an airplane pilot; I said to myself, “If a man can fly, so can I.”

  I knew my Uncle Bob was a flyer during the war. I also knew that he kept an airplane at that airport. Uncle Bob was my Mother’s brother. He was a pilot in the war; he married an English girl, my Aunt Helen. He was an architect in the city near our ranch. The man made lots on money and he liked us kids. He and Aunt Helen never had any of their own, he always called me “Tommy Boy.”

  I was enchanted just seeing airplanes, I started watching them every chance I got. On Saturdays and Sundays I’d take a horseback ride down to the airport to watch the planes come and go, I loved every minute of it, I was hooked.

  On one of these rides to the airport a few years later, a man came over to me and asked, “You like airplanes, boy? I see you here all the time. I bet you want to take a ride in one, huh?”

  “Yes, sir, I sure do.”

  He told me to tie my horse and come with him. I followed him around and he took me to see all the airplanes that were parked that day. He asked me the big question, “Would you like to go up?”

  “Yeah, I sure would!”

  He looked me in the eyes and asked, “You won’t be scared, will ya
? I don’t want ya throwing up all over the plane.”

  “No, sir, “I said. “I can’t wait to see how it feels to be up there.”

  He told me his name was Jake Summers, he owned the airport and taught people to fly. He told me. “Come on. I’ll take ya up in my old Jenny.”

  I’ll never forget that day as long as I live. It was the most wonderful thing I had ever done. Jake looked back at me and saw I was really enjoying flying, he did a loop and I screamed my approval. I had both arms in the air yelling for more. Jake watched me, smiled and turned that old plane loose, I loved every minute of it.

  Back on the ground, as we climbed out of the Cockpits, he said smiling, “Boy, you’re going to make one hell-of-a pilot, when can we start your lessons?”

  “I’ve got no money.”

  “Well, boy, what do you own of any value?”

  “The only thing I own all myself is a steer I raised.”

  “Bring him down; I’ll trade for some flying time. I’ll bet you’ll be flying yourself in no time at all.”

  I thanked Jake and rode home, I was a happy young fifteen year old kid. It took several weeks to convince my folks to let me fly. I told them. “Uncle Bob has flown for years and no one said it was a bad thing to do.” Thank God for my Uncle Bob.

  Mother took the truck and went to town to see her brother. When she returned, she gave me permission to fly. That was a great day for me.

  On the next Saturday, I took my prize steer down to the airport and gave it to Jake. Guess what? My Uncle Bob was there that day. He told me if I could learn to fly, his Jenny was at my disposal any time I could afford to buy the gas. What a great deal that would be for me. He also told me I could work in his office all summer if I wanted to, I did.

  It was a good summer although I didn’t like the work. I had to work in his office, but I got to fly every weekend. On my sixteenth birthday I soloed, it was the greatest day in my life. I took that old Jenny as high as I figured it was safe. Above the clouds, all by myself, with only the hum of the engine to hear. I was in a world all my own. How peaceful it is to have complete control of an airplane and to be that near heaven. It must be a feeling man has had ever since he began to fly. That day, I did not ever want to come down.

  Getting low on gas, I had to. I put her in a bank to the left and down we went. We buzzed the airport forty feet off the ground. I pulled her up and rolled her over on her back, flew past the airport and rolled her over again. I set her down on the ground as easy as a bird landing on a wire.

  Uncle Bob, Aunt Helen and my folks with my brothers were there to greet me. All the men at the airport came to congratulate me, too. They all made out as if I had done something a young boy had never done before. I was a big hero for one day. It was a great day for me, I want-a tell ya.

  My Uncle Bob was the first to congratulate me. He said, “Tommy boy that was as good as any old timer could do. You’re going to make one hell-of an airman.” No one could have been happier than me that day. To have Uncle Bob praise me made me proud as a peacock. The folks and my brothers all had good things to say to me. I was never more pleased with myself in my whole life, It was a great day for me. I hate repeating myself, but it was a great day in my life. Little did I know flying would be my whole life and everything I got was from my flying including my beautiful wife Allie?

  That winter, I worked my rear off to get myself out of high school. In May, I graduated, now I was on my own. The summer of 1935 I spent in Uncle Bob’s office, I was bored to tears, I hated office work. Uncle Bob was one smart guy, he could see I wasn’t cut out for his kind of work. He told me, “I have just purchased a four place new airplane. Tommy boy, I want you to be its pilot. I plan to start a charter business with it as soon as you have a few hours flying it.”

  Wow, was I a happy guy of eighteen. Me, a charter pilot? “When do I start?”

  “Just as soon as the plane gets here, it should be delivered anytime now.”

  Yep, the plane came. On a Sunday afternoon, I took Uncle Bob and Aunt Helen for a two hour ride. Uncle Bob had to take the controls and see what his new plane could do. He looked back at Aunt Helen, told her to hang on and put the plane thru a few paces. That man could fly the pants off a brass monkey. I loved every minute of it. Aunt Helen, before he was finished, looked a little pale and threw up all over the both of us, I think he overdid it a little.

  This new plane was a Stinson Reliant. The company had only been making this plane for one year, it could carry four passengers and the pilot, it will fly around one hundred and forty miles an hour. Also, it had a range of four hundred miles. I couldn’t have been more pleased with the whole operation Uncle Bob had planned.

  On the ground, we got Aunt Helen sitting in the car, She needed a drink of water. She really looked pale around the gills. I thought to myself, Uncle Bob was going to catch heck when she came around.

  I spent the rest of that afternoon cleaning the spit up out-a the plane. The smell was hard to get out, but I finally did with a lot of elbow grease, soap and water.

  The whole crew at the airport had to look the plane over. All the guys were impressed with her looks, it made me feel good to be a part of the operation.

  Before Uncle Bob left that day, he gave me some advice about flying in general. “Tommy boy,” he said, “Always keep her nose up on the horizon, watch the altimeter and pay attention to the fuel gauge. Never fly when you’re tired, it isn’t worth having an accident. Take some time to get rested.” Several times his advice saved my neck, he also told me to take a hop over to El Paso to get a little cross country experience. I had never been more than twenty or thirty miles from the airport.

  I got my brother Frank to go. We flew over the next Saturday and came home Sunday. I followed Highway US 80 all the way, I loved flying this airplane. I even let Frank take the controls a time or two, I thought he might have gotten hooked, he didn’t. He told me he preferred to stay on the ground.

  The next week I got my first charter. Doc Hanson, his wife and their two little girls booked to go to San Diego for a two week vacation. The Doc sat next to me, his wife and girls in the back. The plane handled alright, I just had a little trouble getting the feel of all the weight. It took a few hours and I set that bird down like it was a baby buggy at the airport in San Diego. The Doc’s wife had never flown before. When she got out, she leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. She told me, “Tommy, I’ll never be afraid to fly again. You are a great pilot.” She made me feel like I was somebody. The Doc told me to pick them up in two weeks.

  I asked a man standing on a stepladder working on a plane’s engine, near the hanger, “Can I tie down my plane for the night?”

  “Sure.” He showed me where. I finished tie-n down and returned to where the fellow was working on a plane. I started to ask him questions about the airport. He said he was an airplane mechanic and worked for the owner, a man called {Smiling Jack}.

  I was asking questions about the hangar buildings and some of the aircraft, when I saw this gorgeous female dressed in a white shirt, tan boot pants and brown riding boots come thru the big open door. This redheaded beauty stood looking our way. I asked the mechanic who she was. “She’s the boss’s daughter, Allie. You want-a meet her?” I didn’t know what to say. He did for me. He called, “Allie, this boy here wants ta meet ya.”

  Even at that distance, I could see she was smiling. As she strolled toward us, I could see this beauty was blue eyed with big dimples in her rosy red cheeks. She had wonderful full kissable lips, I fell head over heels in love with this walking goddess.

  As she approached us, she said in a musical voice, “I’m Allie.” She presented her right hand for me to shake.

  I took her hand in my right, pulled her close to me. With my left hand on her upper arm, I said, “Am I ever glad to meet you, you’re one good looking young lady.”

  I thought that mechanic was gonna fall off his ladder. We both heard him say softly, “This kid is smooth.” Then he said in
a loud voice, “This boy is the charter pilot who just flew in, in the Red Stinson over there.” He was pointing at my plane.

  She looked at me and said with question in her musical voice, “You’re kind-a young to be a charter pilot.”

  I told her, “I been flying for two years and I’m good at it.” I never bragged before in my life, somehow I just had to impress this beautiful girl.

  She told me very curtly, “I’m a pilot, too, and I’ve been flying a couple of years.” She grabbed me by the arm and said, “Come on, I want you to meet my daddy.” I told her I was hungry and had to find a place to sleep. She pulled me right along and said, “I’ll see to your needs.” How lucky could a guy be to meet this girl?

  We entered the hangar and walked over to an office inside the building. There standing in the door way talking with a couple of men was a handsome man who looked to be forty years old. He had graying temples, reddish brown hair, a firm ruddy face and a big friendly smile. He stood six feet tall maybe two hundred pounds.

  Allie broke right into their conversation and said, “Daddy, I want you to meet….” She stopped and asked, “What did you say your name was?”

  “Tom.”

  “Daddy, I want you to meet Tom, he’s a charter pilot.”

  I put out my hand to him. He took it and said, “I’m Smiling Jack. How ya do-n?”

  I looked at him, then at Allie and said, “I’m do-n great.”

  He got my drift right away. He said, “Easy boy, this is one fine girl.”

  “Yes, sir. I can sure see that.”

  All this time, Allie was giving me a big beautiful smile. My heart was gone. She told her Daddy, “He’s hungry and needs a place to sleep tonight.”

  “Take him to the diner. It’s on me. He can have the cot in the office for tonight.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He said, “Call me Jack, Tom, everybody calls me Jack.”