ChrisF16
Active Member
I love to fly and I love freedom. A long time ago I fought a war that no one will look back on with any nostalgia. Our war was "cold". We flew every day and the power and capabilities we demonstrated right up against the Iron Curtain were directly responsible for that curtain coming down. Never fired a shot.
Several decades later on a bright, sunny South Texas Saturday afternoon I was basking in some of that freedom roaring around the Texas skies in my new toy. A tiny RV-4 emblazoned in the livery honoring much higher horsepowered steeds that helped free the same European continent that I saddled up every day to defend back in the 1980s. Just like in my childhood fantasies, my mount wore blue and white "Stars and Bars" on the fuselage and the stark black and white "Invasion Stripes" that denoted Allied aircraft in the chaos that filled the skies leading up to and following the D-Day Invasion at Normandy. Exhausted from my demanding morning missions, I put down at a field well behind the lines of the national war for the best BBQ in the world, the Llano airport.
That's when I met him.
Nothing will jolt you from your fog of playing fighter pilot for the day (even if you really used to be one) or humble you quite as much as sticking your hand out (not only the trait of a true Texan, but also of any true fighter pilot) and shaking hands unknowingly with a true WWII fighter pilot hero. I was introduced to Joe Randerson, a 90 year old P-51 pilot who was interested in my mock Mustang gleaming in the sun on the Llano tarmac. He is 90, stands straight as a post oak, can remember bases, towns and flying units from his tours in the Mediterranean Theater. We started talking about flying fighters. I only said enough to bait him into starting another story. It was gold, every word of it.
Take some time this week as we head into the "official" Veterans Day and read Joe's story. He's the veteran I am thinking most about this year. Without Joe and all the other fighter pilots that fought that "Hot" war in the same squadrons that I later fought the cold one in, I would not have had the opportunity to serve my country in the air nor be free to blast around the Texas skies as freely as I do today.
http://texas-hill-country.com/issue/texas-hill-country1/article/one-of-the-greatest
Several decades later on a bright, sunny South Texas Saturday afternoon I was basking in some of that freedom roaring around the Texas skies in my new toy. A tiny RV-4 emblazoned in the livery honoring much higher horsepowered steeds that helped free the same European continent that I saddled up every day to defend back in the 1980s. Just like in my childhood fantasies, my mount wore blue and white "Stars and Bars" on the fuselage and the stark black and white "Invasion Stripes" that denoted Allied aircraft in the chaos that filled the skies leading up to and following the D-Day Invasion at Normandy. Exhausted from my demanding morning missions, I put down at a field well behind the lines of the national war for the best BBQ in the world, the Llano airport.
That's when I met him.
Nothing will jolt you from your fog of playing fighter pilot for the day (even if you really used to be one) or humble you quite as much as sticking your hand out (not only the trait of a true Texan, but also of any true fighter pilot) and shaking hands unknowingly with a true WWII fighter pilot hero. I was introduced to Joe Randerson, a 90 year old P-51 pilot who was interested in my mock Mustang gleaming in the sun on the Llano tarmac. He is 90, stands straight as a post oak, can remember bases, towns and flying units from his tours in the Mediterranean Theater. We started talking about flying fighters. I only said enough to bait him into starting another story. It was gold, every word of it.
Take some time this week as we head into the "official" Veterans Day and read Joe's story. He's the veteran I am thinking most about this year. Without Joe and all the other fighter pilots that fought that "Hot" war in the same squadrons that I later fought the cold one in, I would not have had the opportunity to serve my country in the air nor be free to blast around the Texas skies as freely as I do today.
http://texas-hill-country.com/issue/texas-hill-country1/article/one-of-the-greatest