Like the good soldier he was, my father was "called up" on Friday, February 1st, and "reported for duty" up above. We figure God must have needed a professional locksmith, experienced flight chief and an all-around great guy who loved to talk about boats, hunting and fine guns -- especially the older lever actions and single shots. He loved to shoot too; sure hope they have a nice shooting range up there!
The man in me is OK with this, as he passed very peacefully in his sleep and is no longer suffering. And my mom, 3 brothers and I all realize that 89.5 years is a pretty good run for anybody. But yes, the "little boy" in me still has some weak moments... And I probably will for the rest of my life...
I was so very impressed with the Air Force Honor Guard at the cemetery service on Wednesday. On a cloudy day with a drizzling rain, the sound of Taps from the bugle was such a beautiful sound. I used to play taps at military funerals back in high school -- I admit I did it for the money -- but I never realized just what it meant to the families until that moment. Then the two Air Force guards at graveside completed the beautiful flag folding ceremony with such perfect precision -- tight, crisp hand motions, while standing so solemn and silent -- and they treated our flag with such care and reverence. Wow...
Then the commanding officer presented the carefully folded flag to my mother and said those words "On behalf of the President and a grateful nation..." and there wasn't a dry eye around... Words can't convey the beauty of that moment -- so sad, but yet so awe inspiring -- I was proud and happy and crying all at the same time... It seems really weird to say it, but yes, it was an awesome moment. One I shall remember forever...
From a prior post announcing the completion of Project Sword, some of you may remember that my father was a WWII veteran. He was very proud of the fact he enlisted in the Army Air Corp right after the attack on Pearl Harbor. He was good with machines and equipment, and wanted to help keep our planes in the air, and he did that as a T/Sgt and Flight Chief in charge of other "ground pounders". He started his service in England on an RAF base north of London, maintaining British Spitfires flown by American pilots of the famed Eagle Squadrons. (Some of the Brit pilots used to pee on the tail wheels for good luck which caused them to rust! Not so lucky for the ground crews...)
The U.S. Army Air Corp took over flight operations in 1942 and formed up as the 4th Fighter Group of the 8th Air Force -- the highest-scoring group of the 8th (for air & ground kills). Check out the books "1,000 Destroyed" or "Escort to Berlin" for a good read. In 1943 they switched to the massive P-47 Thunderbolts, and then the mighty P-51 Mustangs came on base in 1944; first the B's, then the D models with drop tanks. I could drone on and on with stories, but suffice to say that when Hermann Goering looked up and saw P-51 fighters flying over Berlin (the "little friends", as the bomber crews used to call them); he knew "the jig was up". Those fighters were from my Dad's base in Debden -- the famed red-nosed Debden Eagles. Love those Mustangs!
Here's a picture of my Dad from back then:
And here's a pix of him shooting his favorite Ballard .38-55 single-shot (hey, it has a lever!):
In honor of my Dad, I'll close with the words from his favorite song from WWII...
BLESS 'EM ALL
Bless 'em all, bless 'em all; the long and the short and the tall.
Bless all the sergeants and W O 1's; Bless all the corporals and their blinkin' sons.
'Cause we're saying goodbye to them all; as back to their billets they crawl.
You'll get no promotion this side of the ocean; So cheer up me lads, Bless 'em all!
RIP: T/Sgt Dean W. Hubbard
Son ~ Brother ~ WWII Vet ~ Husband ~ Father ~ Grandfather ~ NRA Member ~ and My Hero
July 2, 1918 -- February 1, 2008
As we say goodbye to yet another of "The Greatest Generation"... Bless 'Em All!
Old No7
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