Remembering a hero.

I've been thinking a lot the last couple of days about my Uncle Sonny.  He passed away many, many years ago as a very young man.

Back in the early '40's we were at war and like all young men, my uncle, wanted to serve his country.  He joined the Army Air Corp.  (There was no Air Force yet.)  He was in training to become a fighter pilot.  I have a picture of him standing beside his fighter aircraft.  He is so handsome.  He looks so proud.

Unfortunately, during one of his training flights, his plane crashed and he lost his life, November 12, 1942.  I have a copy of his accident report, that includes grainy pictures of the scene of the accident.  It is not a pretty sight.

I've discovered, while these young men were in training, the planes they were flying were in air almost 24/7.  I know because in the copy of the report, there is a copy of his planes, log.  If he was not flying it, some other young pilot was. 

You have to remember, in 1942, America was desperate for fighter planes, and fighter pilots, and both were being 'massed produced' so to speak, so my uncle was not the only pilot in training who lost his life in this aircraft.  Please, don't misunderstand...I'm not faulting the airplane, I am not faulting the pilots...I don't think there is anywhere to place blame.  We had an enemy to fight, and America was doing its best to come from behind, catch up, and overtake a diabolical tyrant.  Unfortunately, along the way, some very, very fine young men lost their lives in the process.  I don't think you could find a one of them who would say even today, they had lost their lives in vain. 

Although the builder of the fighter plane had test pilots, it is my belief that the young men learning to fly them were also 'test pilots'.  The planes pretty much came off the assembly line, were pressed into service, and I might add, served well.  I know because, I have done research on these planes, and I found a list of all that model made, what happened to them, and which ones are still around today, mostly in museums.  If it were not for the young men who flew them during the war, and came home to tell their tales, history could not so easily be told.

So it is I've been thinking of my Uncle Sonny, his plane, his desire to serve his country, his horrible accident, his young life, snuffed out, and I want to tell his tale.  It is short, sweet, and very, very sad.

Levi Shaffer, Junior, age 24. Born June ll, 1918, youngest son of Levi and Mary, pilot, Army Air Corp.  Served his country well.  Died November 12, 1942.