James Haun - Spitfire Wingman from Tennessee: My Love Affair with Flight

Stormwatch Press

Colonel James R. Haun, USAF

1911 - 2001

Cover painting by William Hallmark

www.williamhallmarkart.com

Stormwatch Press

2504 Sherman Court

Nashville, TN 37214-1316 (615) 491-4631

www.spitfirewingman.com

Copyright 2006 James Haun Jr.

U.S. Copyright Office Registration #

TX6-498-143:

12/29/06.

ISBN-13: 978-0-9790002-4-9

by permission of The Nashville Tennessean - Gerald Holly photo, 1975

Originally self-published in 1994 as:

WHO SAYS THERE ARE NO

OLD BOLD PILOTS?!

Have you ever met a star in lifes Movie?

by eldest son, Jim Jr.

STATURE: 1: natural height (as of a person) in an upright position.
2: quality or status gained by growth, development, or achievement.

So says Webster. How about,
3: an innate gift of noble character?

In any case, in both life and use, this word is tricky. Mighty Goliath had stature #1, but the lad who laid him low with a well-chosen gully stone embodied statures 2 and 3.

My Dad, whose air adventures you are about to join, had only a high school diploma. He never claimed to be a hero. Despite his barrel chest and intimidating biceps, he wasnt a full inch over six feet. He played a seemingly minor role through the midst of big doings on the global stage. Once, while discussing people who might significantly impact the world, he said, Im not that big. Except with a playful grin, he never sounded his own trumpet. Even in the short preface that follows he modestly denies any notable effect on his chosen field of aviation.

Yet without exaggeration I can say that I was blessed to have as Daddy a man of true and truly unusual stature. Nor am I alone in what sounds here like a sons prejudice. Many who knew him sensed an unassumed greatness in his jaunty stride and ready wit. My Mom always said, I hitched my wagon to a star. When Dad wasnt there to hear them, Ive heard old friends and fellow officers unconsciously honor him as Big Jim. Typically, one of them addressed him recently in writing as The best pilot I ever knew.

I would go so far as to say that most people live their entire lives never having personally known another human possessing a thimble-full of this elusive quality. Generals, congressmen, prime ministers, presidents and kings sometimes lack it. Often mere actors portraying historical characters capture more of this indefinable impressiveness than those we assume they model. Certainly Washington, Lincoln, Churchill, JFK, and Reagan had it but exactly what it is can be hard to pin down. At least we can say such men stand out from the crowd for soul qualities beyond simple intelligence or cleverness. I believe it springs from an unassailable integrity, welded to self-control, that tends to make these individuals the same alone as in public. Short on guile, their word is their bond. Old-fashioned as it sounds, these are people who, despite superficial flaws, act in reference to a steady moral gyroscope. On a deep level, they know better than to mock words like truth or justice.

It can be scary to live close to one of these, often war-tested, males who can pin you to the wall with a look. You might not always like them but you cant not respect them. (In my Dads case, mix one part each Errol Flynn, John Wayne, and Yul Brynner.). Gifted with tremendous will, he had a determination that could ignore pain. I never heard him whimper. Nor did the Colonel ever abandon that steely sense of right and wrong regarding essentials. Once, when I was twenty and failed to show up for my part-time job flipping hamburgers, when Dad heard about it, his rebuke included the amazing demand that the next time I couldnt be there I was to call him so he could take my place! On the other hand, in those days he also told me flat out that if I was ever guilty of a capital crime he would pull the switch himself. I never doubted either commitment!

But neither was he moralistic some snooty paragon of virtue. His boundaries were wide enough to allow a disarmingly free style. For example, rather than set up my rebel nature for a future hankering toward alcohol as forbidden fruit, he always invited me, at age nine or so, to take a sip of his VO and water held behind his back as if no one would see. (If that was reverse psychology, it worked; that vice never attracted me!) Although this Command Pilot preferred to be thought of as the strong silent type, that often gruff exterior was more a military uniform worn over the deeper man the gentle and good-humored character you are about to meet in his writing. Likewise, whatever the momentary role, in social relations he displayed a genius for the common touch. Instinctively knowing that our inhabiting a body while giving potential for tragedy also yields comic scenarios, his sense of humor gravitated toward less polite absurdities of our physical makeup. He understood first hand, for instance, that our digestive tracts produce a flammable gas. (Unfortunately or not, his book shows admirable restraint in this area.)

His day-to-day speech, too, was uniquely colorful. Some favorite phrases, like a cloud of dust and a blaze of glory appear in his story. But citing others: Men tended to be either characters or jokers, while women were frails. While certain substances were odious enough to gag a maggot, Oh very well more often signified stoic acceptance of harsh fate. A beautiful day for flying was always, Severe clear. He addressed preachers as Doc. If he saw some joker driving recklessly, hed invariably say, Go, fool hells not half full! Or if he noticed a person who was, lets say, esthetically challenged, hed be sure to say, Look at the head on that! (Not that he was ever overtly cruel to anyone; this was the same man who hated to see a wounded quail suffer needlessly. Without apparent emotion, hed simply pop off their heads.) And a sizzling steak was sure to be proffered with, Grab it and growl.

So apart from essentials, his ethics were common-sense practical. As you will learn throughout his tale, he wasnt above playing the system as it presented itself as when he utilized a C-133 on a legitimate mission to move his little Henry-J auto from California to his next duty station in Minnesota. Or recall his wartime runabout, the stripped-down Thunderbolt dashing between London and Brussels. Or during the Berlin Airlift, his admiration for his sidekick Sid Parks creative requisitioning of military supplies. But he never played politics in the sense of pandering to others, whether above or below his rank not even in navigating the ego-infested waters around the Presidential air fleet at Washington National. In fact, aside from his being three-quarters bona fide maverick, I have no doubt he didnt make General largely because when Duty to Country conflicted with potentially disastrous decisions by superior officers, he simply couldnt in good conscience keep his mouth shut. In a letter written in 1997 to his model, General Robert M. Lee, whom he complements there as the most admired and respected of all Generals I had ever known, the Colonel says, I realize I said some rather unkind things about some people in my book. I wont apologize for one word. I merely reported what I SAW AND HEARD.