Post by kg5388 on Apr 21, 2011 21:43:40 GMT -6
www2.tbo.com/content/2011/apr/21/211631/of-watermelons-history-and-a-dying-boys-wish/news-metro/
By HOWARD ALTMAN | The Tampa Tribune
Published: April 21, 2011
Updated: 04:31 pm
Related Links
More on MacDill AFB
Command Post Tampa
AUBURNDALE - MacDill Air Force Base has seen a lot of missions over the years, but maybe none was as colorful as the flight of a B-29 Superfortress that took off from MacDill 62 years ago tomorrow.
The destination: California.
The mission: Fulfill the dying wish of a child with leukemia who had one small request.
"He just wanted some watermelon," says Herb Billington, speaking from his home in Polk County. "Back then, they didn't have Florida watermelons in California and the doctors told the boy's parents that he would die before the California melons were ready."
Sounds simple.
It wasn't.
Billington was a technical sergeant at MacDill when he read a story in the old Tampa Daily Times about a cargo flight out of Miami that disappeared on its way to deliver watermelons to 4-year-old Ronnie Calvert of Richmond, Calif.
"I said to one of the boys, 'Why don't we deliver the melons?' says Billington, Now 89. "'We have planes.'"
But first he had to find the melons. Then get pilots and a crew. And convince the group commander to let him take a B-29, the kind of airplane made famous less than five years earlier by dropping atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
If anyone was up to the task, it was Billington. By the time he arrived at MacDill in 1947, he already was the most decorated non-commissioned officer to fly with the Army Air Force in World War II, according to press accounts from the time. Among his medals are the Legion of Merit, Distinguished Flying Cross, Purple Heart, Air Medal and two presidential citations.
One newspaper story he's saved tells how Billington helped save the crew of his B-17 in 1943 after a pre-dawn bombing raid. And several newspapers reported how he helped save the pilot and co-pilot of their B-24 Liberator bomber that crashed a few months later in shallow water of the Pacific off their island base of New Guinea.
Yet another press account recalls how Billington was on a Liberator flying dangerous skip-bombing missions against Japanese shipping. The missions required the bomber to fly so close to the surface that "enemy anti-aircraft guns fired point blank at them." The flight was one of the longest ever made by a U.S. bomber in the Pacific and at one point, "a bullet hit in the nose of the Liberator, smashing a can of fruit salad (Billington) had brought along to celebrate with if they scored on the target."
Billington says he was involved in other amazing flights.
On Nov. 2, 1943, as his crew was flying a B-17 from Honolulu to San Francisco, one of its four engines stopped working. Then the co-pilot got sick and went to the back of the plane. Billington says he slipped in to take his place.
The Golden Gate Bridge was just up ahead.
"The pilot, Robert Fuller, looked at me and asked, 'Should we?'" Billington says. "'I said, Why not, go ahead.'"
Fuller, says Billington, flew the crippled bomber underneath the famous span. The crew "caught hell" upon landing but were saved from punishment because of what they had done during the war.
Billington says for years, his exploits, many recounted in yellowed newsprint, were lost to his memory. After the war, according to medical records, he was treated for what we now know as post-traumatic stress disorder.
"We had some rough times," said Elaine Billington, 86, Billington's wife of 65 years.
"I wasn't always the best husband," says Billington.
With help from the James A. Haley Veterans Hospital, Billington regained some of his memory.
He recalls that shortly after Pearl Harbor, he volunteered to be part of a squadron of three B-17s stationed in New Guinea that were assigned to harass the Japanese during night flights.
"They wanted us to keep them awake," he says. "We flew two missions a night."
It was so early in the war that the planes didn't have any bombs.
"Sometimes, we dropped Coke bottles on them because they made a whistling noise as they fell," he says.
Thanks to the Haley, Billington says he found out something he didn't even realize.
As part of their efforts to help Billington, hospital officials checked into his war records.
He didn't fly 73 missions as he always thought.
He actually flew 173.
Shortly after Easter, 1949, Billington says he went around MacDill looking for single men without families who might be interested in joining him in his effort to bring watermelons to Ronnie Calvert.
"I needed pilots and a crew," he says.
He also needed melons. He found farmers in Polk and Hillsborough counties who were happy to donate the melons and drove about 30 to the base.
But Billington still needed to convince the commander of the 306th Bomb Group to let him take a B-29 and enough gas to get to California for a decidedly non-military mission.
"I went to him and said I have the melons and the pilot and the crew," says Billington. "I said all I needed was a plane."
The commander, he says, was happy to oblige.
"'Why don't you make it a training mission?'" Billington recalled the commander's response. "The training mission became a mission of mercy."
After an eight-hour flight, the B-29 landed at Hamilton Air Force Base. The crew and melons were trucked over to Ronnie Calvert's home 14 miles away.
"The little boy was so happy," says Billington, who posed for a picture with the child sitting on his lap, wearing his aviator cap. Next to Billington is a melon, inscribed "Please hurry an get well 367 Bomb Squad Tampa FLA."
"Oh, mother and daddy, aren't they nice?" the Oakland Post Enquirer quoted Calvert as saying. "I just love watermelons."
Calvert, who died just over a month later, had one more request that his parents asked not be fulfilled, according to the paper.
"Ronnie expressed desire for a real live hippopotamus," his parents said.
By HOWARD ALTMAN | The Tampa Tribune
Published: April 21, 2011
Updated: 04:31 pm
Related Links
More on MacDill AFB
Command Post Tampa
AUBURNDALE - MacDill Air Force Base has seen a lot of missions over the years, but maybe none was as colorful as the flight of a B-29 Superfortress that took off from MacDill 62 years ago tomorrow.
The destination: California.
The mission: Fulfill the dying wish of a child with leukemia who had one small request.
"He just wanted some watermelon," says Herb Billington, speaking from his home in Polk County. "Back then, they didn't have Florida watermelons in California and the doctors told the boy's parents that he would die before the California melons were ready."
Sounds simple.
It wasn't.
Billington was a technical sergeant at MacDill when he read a story in the old Tampa Daily Times about a cargo flight out of Miami that disappeared on its way to deliver watermelons to 4-year-old Ronnie Calvert of Richmond, Calif.
"I said to one of the boys, 'Why don't we deliver the melons?' says Billington, Now 89. "'We have planes.'"
But first he had to find the melons. Then get pilots and a crew. And convince the group commander to let him take a B-29, the kind of airplane made famous less than five years earlier by dropping atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
If anyone was up to the task, it was Billington. By the time he arrived at MacDill in 1947, he already was the most decorated non-commissioned officer to fly with the Army Air Force in World War II, according to press accounts from the time. Among his medals are the Legion of Merit, Distinguished Flying Cross, Purple Heart, Air Medal and two presidential citations.
One newspaper story he's saved tells how Billington helped save the crew of his B-17 in 1943 after a pre-dawn bombing raid. And several newspapers reported how he helped save the pilot and co-pilot of their B-24 Liberator bomber that crashed a few months later in shallow water of the Pacific off their island base of New Guinea.
Yet another press account recalls how Billington was on a Liberator flying dangerous skip-bombing missions against Japanese shipping. The missions required the bomber to fly so close to the surface that "enemy anti-aircraft guns fired point blank at them." The flight was one of the longest ever made by a U.S. bomber in the Pacific and at one point, "a bullet hit in the nose of the Liberator, smashing a can of fruit salad (Billington) had brought along to celebrate with if they scored on the target."
Billington says he was involved in other amazing flights.
On Nov. 2, 1943, as his crew was flying a B-17 from Honolulu to San Francisco, one of its four engines stopped working. Then the co-pilot got sick and went to the back of the plane. Billington says he slipped in to take his place.
The Golden Gate Bridge was just up ahead.
"The pilot, Robert Fuller, looked at me and asked, 'Should we?'" Billington says. "'I said, Why not, go ahead.'"
Fuller, says Billington, flew the crippled bomber underneath the famous span. The crew "caught hell" upon landing but were saved from punishment because of what they had done during the war.
Billington says for years, his exploits, many recounted in yellowed newsprint, were lost to his memory. After the war, according to medical records, he was treated for what we now know as post-traumatic stress disorder.
"We had some rough times," said Elaine Billington, 86, Billington's wife of 65 years.
"I wasn't always the best husband," says Billington.
With help from the James A. Haley Veterans Hospital, Billington regained some of his memory.
He recalls that shortly after Pearl Harbor, he volunteered to be part of a squadron of three B-17s stationed in New Guinea that were assigned to harass the Japanese during night flights.
"They wanted us to keep them awake," he says. "We flew two missions a night."
It was so early in the war that the planes didn't have any bombs.
"Sometimes, we dropped Coke bottles on them because they made a whistling noise as they fell," he says.
Thanks to the Haley, Billington says he found out something he didn't even realize.
As part of their efforts to help Billington, hospital officials checked into his war records.
He didn't fly 73 missions as he always thought.
He actually flew 173.
Shortly after Easter, 1949, Billington says he went around MacDill looking for single men without families who might be interested in joining him in his effort to bring watermelons to Ronnie Calvert.
"I needed pilots and a crew," he says.
He also needed melons. He found farmers in Polk and Hillsborough counties who were happy to donate the melons and drove about 30 to the base.
But Billington still needed to convince the commander of the 306th Bomb Group to let him take a B-29 and enough gas to get to California for a decidedly non-military mission.
"I went to him and said I have the melons and the pilot and the crew," says Billington. "I said all I needed was a plane."
The commander, he says, was happy to oblige.
"'Why don't you make it a training mission?'" Billington recalled the commander's response. "The training mission became a mission of mercy."
After an eight-hour flight, the B-29 landed at Hamilton Air Force Base. The crew and melons were trucked over to Ronnie Calvert's home 14 miles away.
"The little boy was so happy," says Billington, who posed for a picture with the child sitting on his lap, wearing his aviator cap. Next to Billington is a melon, inscribed "Please hurry an get well 367 Bomb Squad Tampa FLA."
"Oh, mother and daddy, aren't they nice?" the Oakland Post Enquirer quoted Calvert as saying. "I just love watermelons."
Calvert, who died just over a month later, had one more request that his parents asked not be fulfilled, according to the paper.
"Ronnie expressed desire for a real live hippopotamus," his parents said.