Chapter 5: Fly by Day

When we got to the field, it was literally covered with planes, some experimental, some private, all military. There was at least oneTaylor, Cub, AT-6 Texan, T-28 Trainer, Mustang, F6F, F8F, F4U, T-37. The wives were in heaven ... the 12 year old kids were jumping up and down ... Seven just stood and gawked.

There was a bunch standing, admiring the gathering of past and present warbirds.

"What's up?" I pointed at the planes.

"Training," one retired looking guy said.

"For who?"

"Four girls." Retired, he might be, but he was in great shape.

"There's got to be more to it than that."

"Yeah. Most of us are here for an awards presentation, some idiot got his ass shot down over Laos a few years back. Special Forces rescued him. Same guy donated a bunch of B-25's to the Air Guard and an Italian Fiat G-55 Fighter to the Smith. You wouldn't happen to know him?" He had that dead stare that too much action gives a guy.

"Nope."

"You sure? You look pretty familiar."

"Couldn't be me. I wasn't ever in Laos. Hell, I wasn't ever in Southeast Asia"

"They said you'd say that."

Just about that time I was surrounded, grabbed, and hustled into a hangar. There was a platform all decorated with red, white and blue bunting, like you'd see at a Fourth of July parade.

Guys in suits were mixed in with Generals in uniforms on the platform. About 250 other uniforms were milling around below the stand. Everyone of them were pilots or aircrew.

"Attention on Deck!" "Attention to Orders!"

In seconds the rabble turned into two blocks of men with a lane between.

"You gonna walk or do we have to carry you?"

"I'll walk ... you got the wrong guy, but I'll walk."

CIA Star with Cluster, JFK Presidential Citation, Civilian Combat Star, Friend of the Corps, Benefactor of the Airforce Reserve, Benefactor of the Air National Guard, Survivor of The Bay of Pigs. Then came the award I'll always treasure; a sterling silver oil can with the original arrow stuck through it mounted on a knotty pine board. 'The Lucky Shot Award for the best May Day Excuse Ever.' Helicopter pilots would call it 'The Golden BB Award.'

The entire Special Forces Rescue team, including the OV-10 pilot who scouted terrain for the team, was there. I thought the tough looking retired guy looked familiar.

"Sargent, I can never thank you enough for getting me out of a place we never were." I grinned, "after you meet my family, you can see why."

"From the awards you got, most of which I have a feeling I'll never see again, I'd say you could have used us a lot more often. Survivor of the Bay of Pigs? Four medals?"

"Yeah ... three of them go to my ladies."

"Hooboy! I gotta hear this."

I told him.

"Sargent, there's more to the story ... but you wouldn't believe me. Shall we just say I got married under difficult conditions. Those girls learning to fly today are all 12 years old, they were born within a week of each other. They have three different moms, I'm married to all three."

"Why aren't they here?"

Just then an F8F Bearcat flew down the runway upside down, the canopy back.

I pointed at the plane. "That's Wendy, I've been with her since I was 12. We got married on her 18th birthday. The other two will be right behind her." They were.

Ah, well. Recognition I didn't want, for things I was stupid enough to try. I miss my Dad and John.

Some day I'll have to tell you where I was when John got shot.

Both times I was there.

But not today.

Today Wendolyn, Gwendolyn, L e i g h and Lynn learn to fly. My ladies figure it'll take 8 hours to solo.

Tomorrow ... well, tomorrow Wendytoo gets the watch.

I wonder if I'll be stopping watches soon.

What do you think?