Our Father's Generation. F. M. Worden
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We flew the same routines for the next two years. Yes, Allie had a beautiful little girl baby, she became the delight of everyone connected with the show. She was the apple of Grandfather Jack’s eye, he carried her everywhere he went, and he even helped us give her the name Elsa. It was his mother’s name; he was so pleased that we used the name.
The flying seasons passed so quickly I couldn’t believe we could be thru so soon. The whole troupe returned to San Diego every year to get ready for the next. We had a show in all the 48 states each season. Jack declared each season a great success. That made Allie and me happy.
We were having lunch at the diner when a Navy pilot Jack knew came in and joined us. He told us he had signed a contract to fly for the Flying Tigers in China. A General Chennault was asking military pilots to resign to go and fight the Japanese in China. I could see Jack was interested in this man’s talk, Jack was a real old war horse. Big money was being paid to military pilots.
I started asking questions, but Allie cut me short and said, “Don’t you get any ideas, you’re not going anywhere without me and Elsa.”
After the Navy Officer left, I asked Jack if he thought there would be a war that the US would get in. “You can bet on it,” he said. “Have you been reading the papers?”
I told him, “I only listen to the radio, I don’t seem to have time to read.”
Jack said, “It looks to me like the Germans are on the march again, they have the biggest air force in the world, most modern, too. They sent planes to fight in the Spanish civil war.”
“My brother Frank is a student in Germany, I hope he is okay.” I was real worried about Frank.
I must have had real concern on my face as Allie said, “He better get out of the country, I read the Germans are drafting the young men. Wouldn’t it be something if your brother got forced into their military?”
I could only say, “God, I hope not. That would kill my Mon and Dad.”
We finished our meal and headed back to the airport. A news flash came over the car radio. “Germany has just invaded Poland and England has said it would declare war on Germany if they didn’t pull their troops out today.”
Jack said firmly, “The war is here now.”
That was the first time I had ever seen or heard Allie cry, I could say nothing to console her. I knew in my heart, the USA was going to war sooner or later. Jack told the two of us that our government had not prepared us for war. He was mad as a hatter and said, “President Roosevelt and his cronies let us down, the writing has been on the wall for some time, our big shots don’t even think about war, the way the draft went proved that.”
The next thing we heard was England and France both declared war on Germany and Germany was in the process of invading France. England had sent troops to France to fight the Germans.
Our world was at war alright, where the heck was Brother Frank?
Chapter 4
The Battle of Britain: RAF
It was the saddest day in my entire life, up to that time, to see my Allie crying. She knew as I did what we were in for. As we sat in our car listening to the car radio, I could only hope this coming war would be over soon. Little did I know then what was in store for me and my family?
Allie, the baby and I flew to the ranch for Thanksgiving; all the news was of the fighting in France. The Germans had overrun Belgium and the Netherlands. France and England were having a rough time keeping the German Army from taking France.
My Dad and Popie were beside themselves that Germany would go to war again. All of them were worried sick about Brother Frank. No one had a word from him in weeks. I tried to console them by telling them that he could take care of himself. That didn’t seem to help a bit. Mother and Michelle would tear up at the mention of Frank’s name. I kept telling them, “He will be okay.”
My Dad took me aside and wanted to know what my plans were about the military. I told him I had no plans, he advised I should think about joining a service before I got drafted.
“I’ll look into it when I get home.”
Back home I went to see the Navy recruiter; he said I could join, go to boot camp then take my chances about flying. “Maybe you can go to flight training, but right now we don’t need pilots.” I tried the Marines, same story. “We need good strong guys like you, but we need Infantry.”
Not me, no Infantry for me. I got the same song and dance from the Army, I could go to basic training, then I could try for pilots training. I kind of said to hell with it, I was too young to be drafted at this time. Allie wasn’t really happy about the whole thing, she just didn’t want me to join at all. I told her I would have to go sooner or later. She said she knew that but wanted to prolong it as long as possible.
The month slipped by, Christmas and New Year’s came and went. We had spent the time with Jack, I was at the airport helping one of Jack’s mechanics clean up an engine when three guys who had been pilots in the air shows flew in and landed, I walked over where they were talking together.
“Hi guys, what’s up? What brings you boys to this bird nest on a day like this?” It was cloudy and getting ready to rain.
Big Jim said, “We’re waiting to meet a plane to take us to Canada; we have decided to join the Canadian Air force. How about you, Tommy, you want-a go too?”
“What’s the deal?” I asked.
“Any licensed U.S. flyer can join if you can pass the physical.”
I had found my calling. I called Allie on the phone to tell her, I wanted to join the Canadian Air Force. To my surprise, she said, “Go for it.” That’s how I joined the Canadian Air Force.
In Canada I spent three months training, it was called “a quick up.” I spent most of the time learning about how to be a military person. After finishing the course, I was made a Flight Sergeant. We received new blue uniforms, with flight wings over the left breast pocket, and a Canada patch on the left arm at the shoulder, I was pronounced a fit combat Fighter Pilot.
Allie and Elsa had spent two months with me while I was in this training. That made life a lot better for me.
Orders came down that fifteen pilots were to be in England ASAP. I was made the CO of the detail; we were to fly two Lockheed Hudson twin engine aircraft to England.
Allie booked a flight to San Diego; I saw the baby and Allie off at the airport, it was a sad day to see Allie crying so hard, as she entered the plane; I threw a kiss and mouthed, “I’ll be back.”
We left the next morning, we landed at Nova Scotia to refuel and flew across the Atlantic to an airdrome in central west England. There I was posted to a Patrol Squadron at the tip of northern Scotland. I was to patrol the North Sea looking for submarines and other German sea going vessels, I complained. “I came here to be a fighter pilot, not a sub chaser.”
The C.O. told me. “We need experienced pilots to instruct the others, you