This story would make a fine movie, except it does not
fit the mould of the current mood of Hollywood or the powers that be in our
country. It is a story of real me
in real situations with a real outcome.
It demonstrates the very finest of America.
Consider if you will the intertwined stories of Thomas
J. Hudner and Jesse Leroy Brown whose lives came together before God and parted
on 4 December 1950.
Ensign Jesse LeRoy Brown was born in Hattiesburg, Mississippi,
on 13 October 1926. Jesse did not know the Navy had no black pilots and never
intended to have any. He was told
that, but he paid no attention.
Too young to fight in World War II, he enlisted in the Naval Reserve in
1946 and was appointed a Midshipman, USN, the following year. After attending
Navy pre-flight school and flight training, he was designated a Naval Aviator
in October 1948, the very first black person[1]
to achieve this status. The Naval Reserve pilot system was different than
today, like Neil Armstrong, he was a flying Midshipman. Then Midshipman Brown was assigned to
Fighter Squadron 32. He received his commission as Ensign in April 1949. During
the Korean War, his squadron operated from CV32 USS Leyte, flying F4U-4 Corsair
fighters in support of United Nations forces.
On 4 December 1950, while on a close air support
mission near the Chosin Reservoir, flying his 20th mission as the
element lead, Jesse’s Corsair was hit by ground fire over hostile territory and
lost power. The only place to land was on the side of a mountain covered by
snow. LTJG Thomas Hudner, two years older than Jesse, a Naval Academy graduate
and his wingman watched in horror as Jesse’s plane pancaked hard on the
mountainside.
Hudner was briefly buoyed by hope to see Jesse wave
from the open canopy. But he wasn’t making any effort to get out of the
cockpit. Something was very wrong, and to make matters worse, there was smoke
rising from the shattered plane. Hudner made a quick decision to try to rescue
Jesse. That meant crash landing his plane next to Jesse on the side of the
mountain, which he successfully did.
Can you imagine what it takes to put a six ton machine down onto the
side of a mountain at 85 miles per hour?
Meanwhile, the rest of the squadron circled overhead
to watch for Chinese soldiers and radioed for a rescue helicopter.
Hudner found Jesse trapped in the buckled cockpit
without his helmet and gloves in below zero temperature and undetermined
internal injuries. He covered Jesse’s head with a wool cap and his numb hands
with a scarf and used the snow to put out the smoldering fire. But he couldn’t
budge Jesse no matter how hard he tried.
He returned to his crashed aircraft and radioed other airborne planes,
requesting that the helicopter bring an ax and fire extinguisher. Charlie Ward,
a pilot friend of Jesse’s, arrived, making a difficult landing with the
helicopter. Charlie had an axe, but that didn’t help free Jesse since the axe
just bounced off the metal surface of the plane. Jesse kept getting weaker as
the two men desperately tried to free him. Their efforts were for naught and Jesse slipped slowly away
as they worked in frustration. His last words were to his wife, "Tell
Daisy that I love her. "
Hudner and Ward wept.
Back on the ship, Jesse’s squadron debated what to do.
They didn’t want to leave him for the Chinese so they decided to give Jesse a
"warriors funeral. " The next day seven aircraft left the carrier and
flew over the crash site. While one plane accelerated in a vertical climb
toward heaven, the others dove and released their bombs on the mountainside.
The voice of one of the pilots could be heard over the radio reciting the
Lord’s Prayer.
On 13 April 1951, President Truman awarded the Medal
of Honor to Jesse’s friend and wingman, Thomas Hudner. Jesse was posthumously awarded the
Distinguished Flying Cross, the Air Medal and the Purple Heart.
Think of this, down below he could see his fellow
Naval Aviator trapped in the cockpit, with enemy forces likely to close
soon. With no thought for himself,
thinking only of his fellow Aviator (notice not black or African, but just a
fellow Aviator), Tom Hudner did the only thing he could to help. Charlie Ward
came in to pick up his fellow Aviators; not black, not white.
This is the America the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther
King dreamed of. It had
taken root far before the “I have a dream” speech and with actions, not mere
words. It is an America with
Americans, plain and simple. God’s
chosen people showed their face once again at the Chosin Reservoir in this story
as in so many others from that terrible place.
[1]
Jesse was an American,
not an “African American.” He had dark skin, but was red, white
and blue, through and through.
No comments:
Post a Comment