Indians For Guns

Very Touching.

http://www.dump.com/pilotreunited/

That is very special! Kudos to that guy who restored the plane and took the trouble to get hold of the vet.

Back in the late 80s, my Dad and I went into Albuquerque to visit Kirtland Air Force Base. Fifi, the only B29 still flying in the world had come to town, and I was not about to miss seeing it. Dad and I stood in the warm New Mexico sun for about an hour, waiting our turn, and then we got our chance to go through the aircraft. I was in the pilot's seat looking out that big greenhouse cockpit and Dad was in the copilot's seat. How neat was that? Not as neat as the old guy in the bombardier's seat. He was a veteran B29 bombardier and as he talked, he began to get a bit emotional, just like this fellow.

These are our only flesh and blood personal connections to that huge global conflict, and they are fast disappearing. Only a tiny sliver of the things those veterans experienced as young men can be apprehended by us, and after us, it is only print in a book.

It is a wonderful, sad, sobering reminder of the price so many paid for us.

Thanks for sharing that, XL!

Touching.

Very Touching!

Thanks Xl and Timmy for adding your own experience.
I had seen a similar expression on the face of an elderly gent, who was sitting in a corner of the Munich Museum (Which would take at least a week to see completely). Gazing emotionally at a Messerchmit 109 parked there. I knew for sure that he was a luftwaffe pilot who must have flown many a sortie in a similar type aircraft in WWII. I very much wanted to approach him. But at the last moment i changed my mind, not wishing to disturb his reverie .

These things that we do in our youth can have a powerful effect on us all our lives. Apparently more so when experienced in the horror of war. I was at an airshow where there was an old Luftwaffe pilot who was talking about his experiences in WW2. He flew on the Russian Front and he recounted several dogfights. He was shot down near the end, captured by the Russians and sent to Siberia for five years.
He talked about the bitter cold, starvation, the harsh treatment and the slow loss of his comrades as they succumbed to those terrible conditions. He described those experiences with tears flowing down his face as he recounted the names of his comrades and how they died. Even after almost 60 years, he remembered every detail.