"Doolittle's Raiders"

Although I don't know the exact date this was published, it is timeless.  This piece brought tears to my eyes as I recalled, from my own childhood, those years long ago relegated to the pages of time. I respect the right of everyone to have their own opinions and their own views on life. God knows we all deal with them in very different ways. That is a fact that has been with mankind since time memoriam. Nothing has changed, but the way we address that side of our lives has. People of their generation had a different perspective on virtues such as honesty, honor, valor, courage and basic human decency than we do. Frankly, I believe those who have gone before us had a better view of what was important in life. This article reflects the content of their souls and the style they used to demonstrate them. They were just made of better stuff.

Cowboy Bob
April 29, 2013

************************************************************************

Editor's note: CNN Contributor Bob Greene is a bestselling author whose 25
books include "Late Edition: A Love Story"; "Duty: A Father, His Son, and
the Man Who Won the War"; and "Once Upon a Town: The Miracle of the North
Platte Canteen."

************************************************************************

On Tuesday, in Fort Walton Beach, Florida, the surviving Doolittle Raiders
will gather publicly for the last time.

They once were among the most universally admired and revered men in the
United States. There were 80 of the Raiders in April 1942, when they carried
out one of the most courageous and heart-stirring military operations in
this nation's history. The mere mention of their unit's name, in those
years, would bring tears to the eyes of grateful Americans.

Now only four survive.

After Japan's sneak attack on Pearl Harbor, with the United States reeling
and wounded, something dramatic was needed to turn the war effort around.
Even though there were no friendly airfields close enough to Japan for the
United States to launch a retaliation, a daring plan was devised. Sixteen
B-25s were modified so that they could take off from the deck of an aircraft
carrier. This had never before been tried -- sending such big, heavy bombers
from a carrier.

The 16 five-man crews, under the command of Lt. Col. James Doolittle, who
himself flew the lead plane off the USS Hornet, knew that they would not be
able to return to the carrier. They would have to hit Japan and then hope to
make it to China for a safe landing.

But on the day of the raid, the Japanese military caught wind of the plan.
The Raiders were told that they would have to take off from much farther out
in the Pacific Ocean than they had counted on. They were told that because
of this they would not have enough fuel to make it to safety.

And those men went anyway.

They bombed Tokyo, and then flew as far as they could. Four planes
crash-landed; 11 more crews bailed out, and three of the Raiders died. Eight
more were captured; three were executed. Another died of starvation in a
Japanese prison camp. One crew made it to Russia.

The Doolittle Raid sent a message from the United States to its enemies, and
to the rest of the world:

We will fight.  And, no matter what it takes, we will win.

Of the 80 Raiders, 62 survived the war. They were celebrated as national
heroes, models of bravery. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer produced a motion picture
based on the raid; "Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo," starring Spencer Tracy and
Van Johnson, was a patriotic and emotional box-office hit, and the phrase
became part of the national lexicon. In the movie-theater previews for the
film, MGM proclaimed that it was presenting the story "with supreme pride."

Beginning in 1946, the surviving Raiders have held a reunion each April, to
commemorate the mission. The reunion is in a different city each year. In
1959, the city of Tucson, Arizona, as a gesture of respect and gratitude,
presented the Doolittle Raiders with a set of 80 silver goblets. Each goblet
was engraved with the name of a Raider.

Every year, a wooden display case bearing all 80 goblets is transported to
the reunion city. Each time a Raider passes away, his goblet is turned
upside down in the case at the next reunion, as his old friends bear solemn
witness.

Also in the wooden case is a bottle of 1896 Hennessy Very Special cognac.
The year is not happenstance: 1896 was when Jimmy Doolittle was born.

There has always been a plan: When there are only two surviving Raiders,
they would open the bottle, at last drink from it, and toast their comrades
who preceded them in death.

As 2013 began, there were five living Raiders; then, in February, Tom
Griffin passed away at age 96. 

The name may be familiar to those of you who regularly read this column; in
2011, I wrote about the role Mr. Griffin played at his son's wedding.

What a man he was. After bailing out of his plane over a mountainous Chinese
forest after the Tokyo raid, he became ill with malaria, and almost died.
When he recovered, he was sent to Europe to fly more combat missions. He was
shot down, captured, and spent 22 months in a German prisoner of war camp.

The selflessness of these men, the sheer guts ... there was a passage in the
Cincinnati Enquirer obituary for Mr. Griffin that, on the surface, had
nothing to do with the war, but that emblematizes the depth of his sense of
duty and devotion:

"When his wife became ill and needed to go into a nursing home, he visited
her every day. He walked from his house to the nursing home, fed his wife
and at the end of the day brought home her clothes. At night, he washed and
ironed her clothes. Then he walked them up to her room the next morning. He
did that for three years until her death in 2005."

So now, out of the original 80, only four Raiders remain: Dick Cole
(Doolittle's co-pilot on the Tokyo raid), Robert Hite, Edward Saylor and
David Thatcher. All are in their 90s. They have decided that there are too
few of them for the public reunions to continue.

The events in Fort Walton Beach this week will mark the end. It has come
full circle; Florida's nearby Eglin Field was where the Raiders trained in
secrecy for the Tokyo mission.

The town is planning to do all it can to honor the men: a six-day
celebration of their valor, including luncheons, a dinner and a parade.

Do the men ever wonder if those of us for whom they helped save the country
have tended to it in a way that is worthy of their sacrifice? They don't
talk about that, at least not around other people. But if you find yourself
near Fort Walton Beach this week, and if you should encounter any of the
Raiders, you might want to offer them a word of thanks. I can tell you from
firsthand observation that they appreciate hearing that they are remembered.

The men have decided that after this final public reunion they will wait
until a later date -- some time this year -- to get together once more,
informally and in absolute privacy. That is when they will open the bottle
of brandy. The years are flowing by too swiftly now; they are not going to
wait until there are only two of them.

They will fill the four remaining upturned goblets.

And raise them in a toast to those who are gone.

***********************************************************************
I am definitely going to become acquainted with Bob Greene’s books.  I just might go back in time, as well, and revisit “Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo.”

Here's one for "Doolittle's Raiders."

-- Cowboy Bob