A story of young warriors, airmen of the 307th Bombardment Group, 372nd Bomb Squadron, in the skies above the Pacific Ocean during World War II who helped save our world from tyranny. These boys of the 307th BG, 372nd BS, are the same caliber of airmen of the B-24 Liberators on their missions that we read about in Laura Hillenbrand's, "Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption", the story of Louis Zamperini. Theirs was extremely hazardous duty and it is remarkable that it was performed by these ...
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A story of young warriors, airmen of the 307th Bombardment Group, 372nd Bomb Squadron, in the skies above the Pacific Ocean during World War II who helped save our world from tyranny. These boys of the 307th BG, 372nd BS, are the same caliber of airmen of the B-24 Liberators on their missions that we read about in Laura Hillenbrand's, "Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption", the story of Louis Zamperini. Theirs was extremely hazardous duty and it is remarkable that it was performed by these mere boys from America. It might be noted here, and the reader might remain mindful, as the story progresses, that these mere boys were in so many ways just that, mere boys. This couldn't be more clearly depicted than when reading of the days these boys mischievously slipped away from K.P. duty before being dismissed, finding themselves paying the consequences the following day, or neglecting to sweep out their quarters one morning only to sweat out the consequences following the unexpected inspection, or lying around reading and sleeping, sitting around playing cards and drinking Cokes, swimming and lying on the beach, shooting targets with their .45s, building up their living quarters and constructing crude furniture and fixtures from scraps, partying with the added benefit of alcohol provided by the Army one day, only to be hung-over and bored the next day, and on and on, as the war wore on. All of this, their day to day life, before and after flying each mission into and back out of the mouths of the fire-breathing Japanese dragons, destroying air fields and oil fields, planes and aviation fuel, the very nourishment critical to the survival of that dragon. These boys, somehow possessing an ever-present and undiminished esprit de corps, brought that dragon down in no less heroic fashion than those dragons courageous knights of old slew in their mythical adventures. But, clearly, there was nothing mythical about the dragons these boys destroyed, nor the fire they breathed, as these boys repeatedly flew on the fiery breath of those dragons. These boys will always be heroes and this nation will forever owe them a debt of gratitude, a debt that will remain forever unpaid, and forever beyond our ability to repay it. Never have they presumed nor expected that "we, the people" do so, for they have always been wise enough to know that they are we. Yes, they were only mere boys, yet with a maturity that many men don't realize in an entire lifetime. Dad was only 20 years old when he returned home following his military service.
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