Last mission: Veterans soar through the skies for one final run

BY STEVE REEVES

Special to the Free Press

I remember as a young child creating heroes out of various sport stars and people on TV and in the movies. I asked my father one day who his heroes were. My father was a crew chief during World War II on a B-17 named the "Silver Dollar". He told me that of all the missions that he launched and recovered, he never once heard a whimper or whine from the air crews. "Lots of those brave men never made it back." he told me. "So I would have to say that if I ever had a hero it would be those air crews." I never forgot those words he told me, and suddenly my sport star heroes seemed pretty wimpy compared to these men he spoke about.

Just the other day the Experimental Aircraft Association (EAA) Chapter 1219 of Lufkin sponsored a special flight for two former World War II veterans, John Booker and Harold Morris. John was a B-17 pilot that flew 24 missions with the 8th Air Force.

He graduated Lufkin High School and attended Texas A&M in 1938. He joined the Air Force in 1941 and received his wings at the age of 21. He was shot down twice; the second time was over Belgium and he became a prisoner of war for one and a half years.

Harold also graduated from Lufkin High School and flew in a B-24 Liberator in the 408th Bomb Squadron. He started out as first gunner but decided to become a photo gunner so he could fly more missions. He finished the war with 36 missions. On his 12th mission while flying over Japanese occupied Hong Kong he turned 20 years old.

Joe Denman, Jim Odom and Don Lymbery, members of the EAA, heard about The Collings Foundation, which gives flights in a Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress and a Consolidated B-24 Liberator. They presented their idea of giving these heroes from WWII an opportunity to fly in the aircraft that they flew in the war to which every member of the EAA unanimously agreed.

So it began. I met John and Harold at Joe Denman's house along with Jim and Don to begin the drive to Ellington Field in Houston where the reunion with the war birds was to take place. Unfortunately, Joe was unable to attend due to a sudden commitment and with regret we left a war hero behind. As we drove towards Houston I sat next to John. He was a quiet man with confident eyes, tall and lean with gray hair. Harold sat in front of me; he was also grey and not so quiet. When he turned to speak he had a professional poker face, you never could tell if he was serious or pulling your leg. Speaking with Harold you could almost see the love of aviation seep from every pore.

We arrived at Ellington Field prior to the planes so we found an observation deck inside Southwest Airport Services and sat around enjoying the company of these men. After awhile I could see that everyone was fatigued from the drive and we all became pretty quiet. Then I heard Harold shout, "Here they come!". Off in the distance you could just make out two planes. As they came closer you could see the proud silhouettes of a B-25 and B-24 flying in formation against an overcast sky preparing for landing. I think Harold made 100 paces in the room as the planes landed and taxied by, and for a second I could see a 19 year old man preparing for a dangerous mission. A few minutes later we could see the B-17 make its appearance into the airfield.

The impressive aircraft lumbered across the sky to enter a final approach for landing. Once on the ground the four F-16s that were waiting for the plane to clear the runway seem to obeisance as the mighty bird rumbled past. I looked over at John and he stood silent and solid just as a veteran war pilot would look in any Hollywood movie. "What a beautiful plane", he whispered.

We walked up the tarmac toward the large planes and the guys all split up and went straight to their planes. John stood in front of his B-17,

Harold found out his B-24 was flown by a beautiful blonde and they became inseparable. Jim even found a T-33 hangered nearby and spent some time with one of his past loves. Soon it was time to board the assigned planes. Harold walked towards his B-24 and was greeted by his son Jay Morris who surprised his father by signing up to fly with him for his final mission. I walked over toward the B-17 with John and we climbed aboard and buckled up in the radio room. John told me that before a mission the entire crew would sit in this section of the aircraft until the plane was airborne. He said, "It's strange sitting back here. I feel like I need to be up front in the pilot's seat." He told me the last time he was in a B-17 was 1943. Then the mighty thunder of the four Wright R -1820-97 turbo-supercharged 9-cylinder radials fired up one at a time each holding back more than 1200 horses apiece. The mighty 15 ton bird shook and vibrated with life. It felt like a giant warrior waking from a nap ready to go to battle. As we taxied towards the runway I closed my eyes and tried to imagine myself sitting with seven other men while John and his Co-Pilot prepared for take-off for Germany facing the dangers of flying close formation in flak filled skies while fighting off enemy fighter resistance. I wondered if I would have had the guts to fly with these brave men.

The plane flew over Houston at 1,000 feet above ground level and John and I moved from front to aft enjoying the view from every position in the aircraft. I sat in the nose of the plane and looked through the bomb sight to see buildings on the ground with the deadly cross hairs showing them as targets. I wondered what those people down there would think if they knew a WWII bomber had them in her sights. John moved through the plane like a 21 year old man who had done this a hundred times, I was much clumsier. The 30 minute flight back in time ended way to soon as we touched down and taxied back to the parking area. As we left the airfield and stopped to eat I felt like I had a small bond with these fearless men that darted over hostile lands facing the horrors and dangers that I could never understand. I watched a waitress bring these men coffee and walk away unimpressed. If they would have been movie stars she would have cooed and had them sign autographs. I had to wonder if she had known the important role these gentlemen played in the welfare of our country would she act differently.

After it was all said and done, they both thanked everyone and mentioned that they felt like they needed to pay some money or do something for the wonderful day they had. We told them no it was our pleasure and wished them a goodnight.

On my way home that night I thought to myself it wasn't the EAA that gave them this day, it was because of the selfless sacrifice they gave for their country that allowed this day to happen.

So on behalf of the EAA, I say thank you John Booker and Harold Morris for that fantastic day.

The author, Steve Reeves, wingsoverlufkin@yahoo.comalong with Jim and the other mentioned in this story are all residents of Lufkin. John lives in Pineland.