SOLDIER DESERVED A BREAK THAT DAY AT MCDONALD’S

Rich Simpson

My wife and I were already in high spirits on a recent Friday morning in Augusta, GA. Our oldest son would be graduating from dental school in a morning ceremony, and we had driven to a local McDonalds for breakfast, before meeting the rest of our family at our son’s condo.

When we went inside, my wife walked on to the restroom and I waited in line to order. I looked over to my right and there was this young soldier, wearing his camouflage uniform, standing in another line.

Every time I see a soldier out in public, I have the urge to walk up to him/her and say "Thanks for your service." If I act on my urge quick enough, I can avoid getting a lump in my throat. If I don’t act quickly enough, it’s all over because, by then, I’m in a full blown patriotic emotional state…….can’t talk.

On this particular Friday morning at this McDonalds, in Augusta, the lump in my throat was immediate. I had no time to decide what to do. There this young soldier stood, with a clean-cut all-American image, and every mother’s son.

When my wife came to our table and sat down, she smiled and said "I’m going to pay for that soldier’s breakfast." She had some money in her hand, I gave her some more, and off she went.

I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could see him smile while shaking his head. My wife told me later that he said, "You don’t have to do that." My wife talked him into taking the money,

then came back to our table and sat down. Minutes later, as the young soldier was leaving the restaurant, he looked back at her and mouthed, "Thank you."

We both sat there, not saying a word. My wife had tears in her eyes and she could tell I was choked up. I could picture either one of our two sons in that uniform, hundreds or thousands of miles from home and far away from his family and friends. The young soldier had told my wife he was from Newport News, VA.

Later that morning we moved on to our scheduled event, our oldest son’s graduation from the dental school at the Medical College of Georgia. As usual, the anticipation builds for something like this and, as a proud parent, you find yourself looking back. We had watched him grow from a new second grader who, on his first day, had looked in the back of his math book and discovered a whole new scary world of uncharted territory. That resulted in two weeks of nervous stomachs for everyone, child and parents!

At the graduation ceremony, as our son moved closer to the front of the line, I was thinking, this is part of our family history, and I thought of the nights that he would study for an exam until four in the morning, sleep for an hour, and then study some more, before going to class.

There was our son, Dr. Simpson, right before our eyes!

In a period of three hours we saw a young soldier, far from home, who appreciated a random act of kindness from two strangers, and a young dentist, who has always made us proud, starting the next phase of his life. One event was scheduled, the other was a bonus. I will always cherish both.

This is the story of Ethel Guffey and her incredible journey. A journey that started on her family’s dairy farm in Shawnee, Oklahoma and ended with her involvement in the largest air, land and sea battle in history. It became a significant turning point in World War II. D-Day.

In September of 1935, at age 19, she entered Saint Anthony’s School of Nursing in Oklahoma City.

Ethel Guffey entered the U.S. Air Force at Will Rogers Field in Oklahoma City in March of 1942.

The next month she was indirectly involved with a piece of history. While working a 12 hour nursing shift, she learned that the officer that she was taking care of, Colonel Hume Peabody, was to have flown on a raid in which legendary  flier Jimmy Doolittle led 16 Army B-25  bombers through Japanese defenses on April 18, 1942. The strike on Tokyo, and other cities, was a huge boost for american morale.

On Christmas Eve, 1942, she arrived at the train station in Louisville, Kentucky. From there, she and eight other nurses rode in a truck to Bowman Field to report for duty.

She graduated from The School of Air Evacuation on February 18, 1943. There she had learned to march and lead a parade of military personnel on the base. She was the first nurse to ever lead other nurses in a parade.

On July 27, 1943 she, along with the 806^th Air Evacuation Squadron, arrived at Liverpool, England. From there they rode by train to Welford Park, England. They later became attached to the 9^th Air Force.

In the fall of 1943, while assigned to “detached service” duty, she was assigned to the 390^th Bomb Group which was eight miles from The English Channel. While there, she helped flight surgeons take care of the wounded to get them ready for the thirty mile trip to the nearest hospital.

They had been wounded while on bombing missions over Germany. Lt.Ethel Guffey remembers one serviceman in particular. The back of his head had been blown off during a mission. However, he was still able to talk. He said “I’ll never get to see my baby.” Those were the last words he spoke before he died.

On June 6, 1944, in Grove England, Lt.Guffey was leading a short order marching drill. It was during that drill that she and the other nurses in her unit saw planes returning from the Normandy Invasion.

A few days later Guffey, and The 806^th Air Evacuation Squadron, landed on a hospital landing strip to evacuate the wounded that had been brought to the strip. Large balloons were positioned high above the landing strip to keep German fighters from strafing the area. The wounded were then flown across The English Channel. Before being evacuated the wounded had been cared for by nurses that were stationed at field hospitals.

Lt. Guffey felt that the more she talked to her patients the more they would talk. And talking seemed to help them cope with their situation. These wounded had a part in making history. Lt. Ethel Guffey, of the 806^th Air Evacuation Squadron helped them make the transition from being wounded to being a part of history. The evacuation of those wounded at Normandy went on for about a month.

On one of many flights across The English Channel, that Lt. Guffey experienced, the cloud cover was so thick that the pilot had to search for a while to find an opening so the plane could land. A German prisoner was aboard on that particular flight. Later, it was discovered that the plane was completely out of gas.

In October of 1944, while doing trans-Atlantic evacuation, she and another nurse went to a deli on 36^th street in New York City. She was not aware that you had to have food coupons in order to make a purchase. When Lt. Guffey failed to produce a coupon the woman behind the counter scolded her. She said “There’s a war going on you know.” Another customer gave them enough coupons to make their purchase.

It was one of those cases where the person that’s feels the need to straighten everyone else out is the one that can’t grasp the whole picture. The fact that both the nurses were in their military uniforms should have made her realize that maybe they weren’t regular customers and maybe, just maybe, they were involved in that war.

In World War II there were no tv network news anchors, back home, with their own agenda. There were no tv network news anchors that felt like they had to mold the news, to their liking, before presenting their own slanted version to the American public.

Radio reporters like Edward R. Murrow and Lowell Thomas, and newspaper reporters like Ernie Pyle simply did what they were supposed to do, they reported the facts!

They didn’t continually say things that would divide the country and then follow it up with a self serving poll that would show how the country was so divided. They reported the facts!

Lt. Ethel Guffey, the farm girl from Shawnee Oklahoma, was made a Captain before returning home from the war.

On July 23,1945 in Paris, France, she married Captain Richard Simpson of The United States Army Air Corps. She had met him earlier in the war at Bowman Field, Kentucky. She returned home on December 18, 1945.

On Saturday, May 29^th, 2004 The World War II Veterans Memorial was dedicated, in Washington, D.C., to the veterans of “The Greatest Generation.” They were thanked for their service that “helped save the world.”

Today Ethel Simpson lives in Texas. She enjoys taking walks, watching sunsets and visiting with her friends. Last December she celebrated her 93^rd  birthday.

Sixty-five years ago she sealed her place in history. She was part of “The Greatest Generation” that “helped save the world.”

Her family is very proud of her and loves her very much……… Thanks Mom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Most of us have, through the years, heard that an Army radar plotter, on the Hawaiian island of Oahu, tried to warn military officials of possible danger on Sunday morning December 7, 1941.

I, for one, never knew the name of this Army Private who wanted to stay at his mobile radar "listening post" at Kahuka Point, even after his overnight shift had ended. His name was George E. "Sonny" Elliott. This would be his date with history. The beginning of what President Franklin Roosevelt would label "A day of infamy."

The other Private who was working with Elliott was Joseph L. Lockard who was officially the "operator" of the radar unit, Elliott was the "plotter."

Their shift had been dull and uneventful. It would have been interesting to them to watch the scheduled arrival of twelve B-17s which were coming from the west coast of the United States. The planes would have caused a large blip on the scope. They decided to hang around the radar unit a little longer. They felt it would be a good opportunity for Elliott to operate the set for a while. Elliott was new to this line of work.

At 7:02 am, "something out of the ordinary" appeared on the screen. Lockard plopped down into his regular position. He had never seen such a large blip. At first, he suspected faulty equipment and attempted to make adjustments. He then realized there was not one, but two large blips.

At this point, Elliott rushed back to his "aircraft warning plotting board" and within a minute determined the blips to be at three degrees east or north and 137 miles north of Opana.

Elliott called the Information Center at Fort Shafter. At the time Lockard was just not sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. By now, it was seven minutes after the first blip appeared.

Elliott was only able to reach a male telephone operator. He told him what he had seen. Elliott was told nobody was available. The operator called back a few moments later, with Lieutenant Kermit A. Tyler on the line. Tyler told Lockard the blips were either the B-17s from the U.S. mainland, or Navy planes on patrol,  and said to forget about it. 

Lockard and Elliott continued to plot what they saw as a "fine problem." Then they left with their overlay map to show their superiors and to eat breakfast.

At this point, the Japanese warplanes were about 30 miles from Oahu.
When the warplanes were over Ohau’s Kahuku Point, Japanese Commander Fuchida fired his flare pistol into the sky. This was the order to attack! The 183 planes of the first wave broke formation. Dive bombers up to the 12,000 foot mark, horizontal bombers leveled off at 3,500 feet and torpedo bombers dropped to sea level and into mountain passes to avoid detection as they headed for military targets in Honolulu.

The two waves of attacks resulted in a loss, to our military, of 2,008 Navy men and 109 Marines.

Elliott died in Port Charlotte, Florida, on December 20, 2003, of complications from a stroke. He was 85.