HONOR FLIGHT HAD SOME LOVELY SURPRISES
Second World War veteran and Côte-St-Luc resident Sid Birns recalls a heartwarming day
Honor Flights were created to make sure U.S. veterans are able to see to the American war memorials that commemorate their contributions. I was fortunate to be on a recent flight that took 55 Second World War and five Korean War veterans to Washington, D.C.
It was one of the most remarkable experiences of my life. There was a time when I felt the memory of the Second World War was being lost. Not only did the Honor Flight make me feel that my wartime service was valued, but there was a very special family moment at the end of the day.
Although I now live in Côte-St-Luc, I was in the U.S. army during the Second World War. I enlisted in 1943, when I was 17, because I felt I had a duty to my country. During the war, I was stationed in Aldershot, England, France and Belgium and was part of the occupying forces in Bad Nauheim, Germany. I was among the troops that landed on Omaha Beach 15 days after D-Day.
I was invited to take part in a May 30 Honor Flight taking off from Miami, the nearest place to my winter residence in Deerfield Beach, Fla.
It started at 0 dark 30, when I was picked up by a bus that would take me to Miami International Airport and a flight to Washington, D.C. What a surprise awaited me on the bus — a 10-man motorcycle police escort took us all the way to the airport.
We arrived at the Miami airport to a volunteer welcoming committee and then met our “guardians,” many of whom were from Miami fire departments. These volunteers made sure we were comfortable and looked after whatever we needed.
Heading down the tarmac to take off, we passed two lines of fire trucks, one on each side of the airplane, their lights flashing. They gave us a water cannon salute. There was a similar salute when we landed in Washington.
As we got off the plane, we were greeted by crowds waving flags, shaking our hands and thanking us for our service. There were actually some guys in the line kissing our lady veterans!
Our first stop was the Iwo Jima Marine Memorial, followed by the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington National Cemetery, an inspiring and beautiful ceremony. Then it was back on the buses to the Second World War and Korean War memorials on the National Mall. Before I knew it, we were on our way to the airport to catch the flight back to Miami.
Once we were airborne, Eastern Airlines president Edward Wegel made an announcement. He said he knew GIs always looked forward to a hot meal, and because of that, they were going to serve one.
That brought back a vivid memory. It was November 1944, American Thanksgiving. I was in Reims, France. Headquarters sent up a mobile kitchen to serve us Thanksgiving dinner. We had been eating K rations, so we were all looking forward to the hot meal.
As fortune would have it, it was a rainy day and when the mobile kitchen arrived, the drizzle turned into a downpour. We were dripping wet, but it was dry under the kitchen overhang.
We opened our mess kits and received turkey, mashed potatoes, a muffin, peaches in syrup and a ball of ice cream. We couldn’t wait to start eating, completely forgetting about the weather. As we left the overhang, our mess kits quickly filled up with water. The turkey and gravy began to float, the ice cream was sailing around in rain water. We sat down on a rock and as we bent over to start eating, rain from our helmets dripped into the mess kits, adding to our “floating Thanksgiving dinner.”
Truth be told, it didn’t matter, we ate it all with relish. So when they served the hot meal on our Honour Flight, I ate it with the same enthusiasm I had that Thanksgiving Day in Reims.
Then they announced “mail call,” like the ones we had during the war. Every veteran received a packet of mail, some of it from schoolchildren, some from airport personnel and in my case, from friends and relatives. My daughter had contacted people, asking them to write to me — another nice surprise.
When we disembarked, we were greeted by a couple of senators, congressmen and about 3,000 people welcoming us home. Once again, there was a lot of handshaking and many thanks. Like you would see in the movies, some of the ladies would come over and kiss us on the cheek.
It felt like we were conquering heroes. There were even bagpipers playing and a long receiving line of people. Then suddenly, in front of me, there was a young lady saluting me, wearing a flight jacket, with a pair of wings and captain’s bars.
She looked familiar. It finally clicked. It was my daughter, a former Air Force flight instructor. I jumped out of the wheelchair and hugged her and started to cry. I couldn’t believe she had flown in from Texas to greet me at the airport.
Remembering that moment makes my eyes well up with tears again.
It was enlightening for me to see all the other men and women veterans who, judging from the expressions on their faces, were experiencing the same emotions of pride as they realized that people still care about what we did. Most of us said, “If we had to, we would do it all over again.”
After the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, Franklin Delano Roosevelt described Dec. 7 as a date that will live in infamy.
This day, too, will live forever for me, but not in infamy. It was one of the best days of my life.
When we disembarked, we were greeted by a couple of senators, congressmen and about 3,000 people welcoming us home … Like you would see in the movies, some of the ladies would come over and kiss us on the cheek. Sid Birns I enlisted in 1943, when I was 17, because I felt I had a duty to my country.