A Veterans Day Tribute: D-Day Heroes

This post is the culmination of

my Veterans Day tribute.  The

handsome veteran pictured below

is my father, Marvin Ellis Loyd.

At 97, he is one of the oldest living

veterans of World War II.

He was a flight chief in the famed

Orange Tails, a squadron of P-47

Thunderbolts.  He did not cross the

English Channel on D-Day, but was

in support of air assaults and cover

throughout that historic operation.

I've chosen to feature our National D-Day

Memorial now at Veterans Day rather than

on June 6, which is actually D-Day.  My

reason is the connection of the D-Day Memorial, 

Sharptop Mountain, and the town of Bedford, Va.

For more on the connection, be sure to read the

two preceding blogs.

This post card shows flags of the eleven

allied nations that banded together for

Operation Overlord, the largest invasion

force in history.

 

The following four photos are post cards

on sale at the memorial.

The next ten photos are uncaptioned, but

I took these on my first visit there.  Each

is moving to those who know the story of

D-Day.  Movies from The Longest Day to

Saving Private Ryan's have attempted to

portray the immense drama, danger, and

importance of the invasion, but it is unlikely

any of us who weren't there can ever fully

comprehend the urgency and scope of the

plan.  I won't even try to put it into words.

Obviously, I would recommend a visit to

the memorial at Bedford, Virginia.  The town

lost the highest percentage of its young men of

any town in America that fateful day.

If you can't go to Bedford, I suggest you seek

out those World War II veterans who still live

and ask for their story.  Have your children

listen and learn what they will not likely learn

in school.  Books and lectures can scarcely

approach the drama of those who lived WWII.

In my own classroom, and now in my home,

I maintain a "Patriot's Corner," honoring all

those who served, but first and foremost,

my father and his Orange Tail brothers.

I plan to share my father's legacy with

my grandchildren and visitors to our home

whenever I can.  A knowledge of history

certainly helps us understand our own purpose.

At my father's last Air Force reunion in

the fall of 2008, I provided music for one

of the squadron's banquets.  Neil Melton,

founder and owner of the Tennessee Aviation

Museum, came up to me to see if I'd like to

go up in a T-38 trainer plane, World War II

vintage.  Not likely to get an opportunity like

this again, I jumped at the chance.

Here I am with my father (center) and brother

(right) in front of the T-38.

There's a reason I look confident.

Neal at the wheel.  Or stick.

Just along for the ride, but what a ride!

We could see Knoxville, Pigeon Forge,

Sevierville, and Gatlinburg.  Plus a lot

of little things that looked like ants waving

at us from a runway far below.

This is a P-47 Thunderbolt, one of the

most durable of the World War II

fighter-bombers.  It was almost impossible

to shoot down even after multiple hits due

to its heavy armor and air-cooled 16 piston

engine.  It was often called "The Flying Jug."

Of course, I knew Neal couldn't take me

up in his own P-47, Hun Hunter.  It's a one-

seater.  But I'd be scared I'd break it, anyway.

This photo has four men who are very

special to me.  From left to right:

Marvin Loyd, my dad, WW II flight chief

Neal Melton, owner of the museum and his

own P-47, and a dear friend of all the vets

Bert Lok, one of daddy's crew chiefs and a

faithful friend for almost seven decades now

John Shoffner, another P-47 owner who flies

in for all the Orange Tail reunions and does

flyovers with Neal.

Our final banquet was in the large hangar.

John's "Wicked Wabbit" is behind us,

providing the atmosphere.  Left to right

are my wife Judy, me, sister Caryn,

Daddy, Mama, and brother Ellis ("Buddy").

And yes, if you're that observant, Daddy

can still wear his dress uniform jacket-- it's

the same one as in the very first picture in

this blog!

Here he is one more time, this time in

his work overalls.  Doing his little bit

to make the world safe for democracy.

My hero.

Do what you can to honor the

veterans in your own family or

among your circle of friends.

You'll be glad you did.

Tragedy on Sharptop Mountain: B-25 Crash Site

It was not until Judy and I took a bus ride to

the top of Sharptop Mountain several years ago

that we overheard the bus driver telling about

a tragic plane crash on the mountainside during

World War II.

We were told that November would be the

safest time to search for the crash site because

the leaves would have fallen and the rattlesnakes

might be in hibernation.  This stony mountainside

is where it all happened on February 2, 1943.

The crash was near Buzzard's Roost, the

outcropping of boulders pictured below.

This is a B-25 Mitchell, a bomber like

the one that crashed that night, lighting

up the mountainside in a fearsome display

of fire and explosions, visible in Bedford

eight miles away.  It took hours for men with

lanterns to reach the sight of the conflagration.

There were no survivors; the five man crew

had perished instantly on impact with the

unyielding mountain slope. 

Here is a link to a website from which the

excerpt below was borrowed.  You will find

many more pictures of the site there if you are

so inclined.  This presents the basic facts.

http://rightsideva.blogspot.com/2008/07/sharp-top-mountain-b-25-bomber.html

"On Feb. 2, 1943, a B-25 bomber on a training mission out of South Carolina crashed into the southeast flank of Sharp Top Mountain, killing all five servicemen aboard. The cause of the crash is still somewhat of an enigma, as a war-stressed military could not devote many resources to solving the mystery of the crash. Nor, did it have the time or inclination to remove the wreckage from the steep mountainside at 3,000 feet elevation. Most of it remains to this day, a true-to-life memorial to World War II sacrifice amid the Blue Ridge grandeur."

Finally, one November, Judy, her brother Tim,

and I were able to embark on the search for the

crash site.  The owner of The Liberty House where

Judy and I had stayed before had given me specific

landmarks to help us locate the scene of the crash.

The climb up the mountain was daunting.  But our

landmarks did not fail us.  As we began to find evidence

of the wreckage we sensed the solemn sanctity of

this place, long respected by all who visited it.

Part of a wing.

A strut from one of the landing gear.

Tim and I posed by a memorial plaque

recently carried up the mountain and place

by a troop of boy scouts.

Part of a wing.

One of the twin engines.  Both remain at

the site.  The military removed only electronic

and sensitive equipment.

I'm standing beside the largest remaining

piece of the fuselage, or body of the plane.

The other engine.

The mid-section of the fuselage.  The

condition of the wreckage makes it plain

why no one could have survived.

These five men's lives were given every

bit as much for the cause of freedom as those

who died on distant shore or in steaming jungles.

The monument below (click to enlarge) is

in homage to these men and hundreds of thousands

like them, who were ready and willing to put

their lives on the line unquestionly.

My father was also in the Army Air Corps.

He knew many men who never returned from

their missions.  Daddy was one of those who

came back from the war with a story to tell,

that we might learn, remember, and understand.

My next blog honors him and all veterans and

will conclude my trilogy of Veterans Day blogs.

Sharptop Mountain

This is the first of a trilogy of blog

posts tied to Veterans Day, which will

be this Friday, November 11, 2011.

It is partly inspired by the book Sharp Top

I recently read.  It is a historical novel by

Carolyn Tyree Feagans.  Its plot tells the

story of the communities of Mons and Bedford

in the  Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia.

The author skillfully wove a story of the

intertwined lives of young and old from just

after World War I until the present time.

It encompassed the Great Depression, CCC

(Civilian Conservation Corps), World War II,

and its aftermath.  Two main characters were

portrayed through the agony of the Death March

of Bataan and the D-Day invasion.  The impact

of world events on even this quiet corner of the

mountains was inevitable.

Below is the old Mons Hotel, a fabulous

mountain resort, now gone.  It was a focal

point of tourism in the area now known as

Peaks of Otter, a favorite tourist spot on the

Blue Ridge Parkway.

Because of a horrifically high casualty rate

among the young soldiers of nearby Bedford,

this area was selected as the site for our

National D-Day Memorial.  More details will

be shared in a blog post to follow.

Sharptop Mountain is the crown jewel of

the Peaks of Otter, revered by visitors and

local residents alike.  Judy and I have many

cherished memories from time spent in the area.

The first Bed & Breakfast we ever stayed

in was the Liberty House in Bedford.

The views from Sharptop are incomparable.

Climbing Sharptop has been a rite of passage

for local citizens for generations, but a bus

now makes the peak accessible to all.

This stony hillside was the scene of one

of the great tragedies of World War II--

only too common-- a midnight training

flight that ended the lives of five young

airmen in a flaming inferno.  Judy, her brother

Tim, and I journeyed to that spot a few years

ago, and it truly felt like hallowed ground.

I will share scenes from that excursion as part

of my Veterans Day tribute this week.

This post is not really meant to be a book

review, but because of my personal connections

to the Sharptop and Bedford area, it meant a

great deal to me.  The attention to historic detail

was commendable and it stirred my emotions as

it told a tale that bears telling and retelling.

For all generations of Americans.

Toddler Trick-or-Treaters

On Saturday and Sunday, Judy and I were

"treated" to an early Halloween.  We were

visited by Snow White, a Jack-o-Lantern,

a lovely butterfly, and a fierce pirate.

Brianna (aka Snow White) is so starved

for candy she could gnaw through the handle

on her treat bucket (which was once her Mom's).

 You guys call this "a haul"?

 Hunter says his thumb beats any candy.

And our plush Kitty Cat look-alike

brings a smile to his face. 

"Okay, guys.  I'm goin' in.  If I'm not out in

ten minutes, send in a rescue party."

It only takes a few moments at Grandma and

Grandpa's before trick-or-treating takes a

 back seat to familiar toys.  Bri's blowing on

the propeller to make it spin.

Both Snow White AND Jack-o-Lantern

love it when Grandma blows bubbles.

Hunter, like the girls before him, loves

to pull the pull chain on the lights.

Raw power!  ugh ugh

Soon, Bri pulls out her "Wheels on the Bus"

book.  A good book and a good song that

never get old.

"I'm about to go where no man has gone before."

"Wait, is that a bag of Goldfish you have there?"

Snow White in shades is definitely a new

look for a new millennium.

This is worth a closer look.

"Yeah, I could fill this bucket with candy

in about 3 minutes.  And empty it just as fast."

So that was Saturday.  On Sunday, Jennifer

and Matt brought Claire and Evan in their

Halloween attire.

Evan is as happy a pirate as

you're likely to meet around here.

And Claire is simply glowing with

her rainbow shirt and butterfly wings.

"Yeah, see, my plan is to just

scare the extra candy out of people."

Here's Butterfly Claire's other

good side.  And don'tcha love

that green Jack-o-lantern?

"My wings get dehydrated without

Grandma's magic juice."

Daddy Matt with Evan,

"The Terror of the Seas."

Joy comes by to treat the kids with some

special favors and to join in the

Halloween festivities.

Joy's treasures include a sticker book.

Claire generously selects a "Happy

Halloween" sticker just for Grandpa!

We now know that butterflies like

chocolate-covered Rice-Krispies treats.

At least, we think that's what it was.

All the children did some real door-to-door

trick-or-treating on Monday night, but we

were happy to have extended visits and

a sneak preview.  Looking forward to many

more years of this bedlam.

A New Joke for Friday

Here's my original take on an old joke.*

Him:  Honey, didja ever wonder why tropical storms are called "her"icanes instead of "him"icanes?
Her:  No, why is that, Sweetie?
Him:  It's because they're so blamed unpredictable! Yuk yuk yuk.

Her:  Hmmm.  Well, you've just solved another mystery for me.
Him:  What's that, baby?
Her:  I had always wondered why they're called "HIM"orrhoids.  Now I think I know.

Girls RULE!  Believe, me, I know!

* Explanation: The part about "her"icanes and "him"icanes I got from an old joke in Boys Life magazine years ago.  The part about "him"orrhoids came to me the other day, and is original as far as I know.  Hope you liked it.