A Thanksgiving Promise: From 1943 & World War II

A Story of Thanksgiving  & Hope

Completely surrounded by 15 of the best fighter planes Japan has to offer, bullets and cannon rounds smother the B-24 Bomber called the “ Daisy Mae.” Bloody wounded and dying men are everywhere on board. There is no place to hide. Even if there were, the eleven men on board today, will fight to the death if need be, to save each other and to save their ship. They are desperately trying to pay life forward for their buddies.

Flying and fighting at 17, 000 feet, and at 300 miles per hour, the B-24 Bomber, is struggling to fly with jagged edge metal pushing against the wind, leaking fuel,  and the fire power of the enemy. Illuminating tracer rounds are starting fires throughout the doomed ship.

From his ball-turret gunnery position, located beneath the 10 man crew and the largest bomber in the world at the time,  Sergeant Fran Perkins, lay wounded after shooting down two Japanese Zeroes and taking two more Zeros, out of the fight. He is totally blind, Fran’s front gun sight from his machine guns, was driven into his forehead by the second  exploding warplane directly in front of Fran’s deadly aim. He lay bleeding from massive wounds and is completely blind.

The remaining Japanese fighter planes begin to turn around and head back to their base on Wake Island.  Perhaps it is because they lost too many aircraft to the fierce fighters aboard the Daisy Mae or perhaps they are straying too far from their airbase on Wake Island. If they run out of fuel, they will have to crash land in the shark infested waters of the Pacific Ocean. If the severely damaged Daisy Mae, falls apart or her engines dies out, she and all aboard will receive a similar fate.

The valiant ship and crew are still 1200 miles from home, their base on Midway Island, with very few instruments that are operational and nothing but miles and miles of ocean and a severe storm they must fly through as well. This is the worst tropical storm in ten years. The wounded and dying ship will have to give everything she’s got to weather the storm and land safely.

The Navigator…

Aboard the Daisy Mae, men are wounded and some are dying. Fran Perkins struggles to move  his wounded body and crippled gun turret back into the belly of the ship. He knows his tour of duty is over, since he is blind. Perkins feels he is only dead weight on the ship and is now worthless in saving his crew from the deadly high speed battle raging at 17,000 feet of above the sea.

Lt. Benjamin I. Weiss, the Navigator on board, studies his maps on the Navigator’s table set up in the cabin directly behind Pilot Joe Gall, and his trusty Co-pilot, John Van Horn.

Picture yourself looking over Ben’s shoulder as he studies his maps. Today, if you could study a world map, you will see exactly what Navigator Weiss is looking at on July 24, 1943. You and Ben are looking at the clear blue Pacific Ocean with no land masses between Wake Island, the site of the battle and Midway Island, the airfield where they must land. There are over four hours of open sea, and now possibly five or six because of the damaged aircraft engines. The only ships at sea they may encounter along the way if they ditch the massive bomber in the ocean, are two enemy submarines that are tracking Daisy Mae by radar. The Japanese submarines will not take survivors. They will take no prisoners.

Convinced to stay on his new course adjustment, Weiss leaves his table and runs to the rear of the ship. There, Flight Engineer Arvid B. Ambur, after saving the hydraulics, is now administering first aid to the wounded and dying aboard the struggling ship. Weiss can do nothing more as a Navigator but just maybe he can help as a healer.

“Fran, Do you have a girl back home?…

Fran Perkins lays between wounded Myron Jensen, the Bombardier, and Joe “Pop” Evans, the wounded Aerial Photographer. Since Perkins is the only man conscious, Weiss asks the blind airman;

“Sergeant, Do you have a girl back home?”

Nineteen-year old Perkins, nods, “Yes, her name is Elaine.” He hesitates and looks downcast. “I’m blind now, Elaine won’t want me anymore.”

Lt. Weiss thinks for a moment, and then responds as a much older and wiser man, although Ben Weiss was only a few years older than Fran.

Smiling, yet assuming the role of a superior officer, Ben orders boldly, “Sergeant Perkins, ten years from now, after this War is over, I want to have Thanksgiving Dinner at your home and I want Elaine to cook for us.”

“Yes Sir, “Fran responds loudly, as he is trained to respond when communicating with a superior officer.

Then the Navigator kneels down, his voice softens as he says, “we will make it back safely, I swear to you we will.”

After a long pause, Perkins asks softly, “Sir, can you navigate by the stars?” Perkins is thinking of his life long dream of piloting his own plane from Midway Island at night and navigating by the stars. He is also fully aware that now he will never achieve that dream.

Ben Weiss responds, “ I need to get back to the cabin and keep Daisy Mae on course for Midway. We will talk later, I promise.”

Ben stares at his blind and helpless,comrade who is bleeding and lying on the floor. Ben states boldly, “Never underestimate the power of hope.”

Ten Years Later…

It is Thanksgiving Day, November 26, 1953, ten years after Fran’s last mission on his beloved, Daisy Mae. After a few miracles, most of the crew made it back to Midway, and a brilliant Australian eye surgeon working in Hawaii, was able to restore one of Fran’s eyes. Both eyes  move together, however blindness in Fran’s left eye remains. Fran is very grateful this Thanksgiving, as he is able to accomplish his goals without a one eye handicap.

Fran’s wife is preparing Thanksgiving dinner. The holiday aroma of Turkey, stuffing and baked pies fills the small apartment in Evergreen Park, Illinois near the tough South-side of Chicago.

There is a knock on the door. My Dad, Francis J. Perkins, former gunner on the  B-24, Daisy Mae, springs like a Jack-In-The-Box, from his dining room chair. The door opens and standing there is a man, a few years older than my Dad, with the biggest smile I have ever seen in my life.

“Come in and meet my family,” Fran beams.

“Ben, this is my wife, Elaine, my Lady Elaine. This is my daughter Linda and my son Wayne. Family, this is your Uncle Ben.”

Navigator Weiss smiles as he replies, “I have waited ten years, to meet you, again and I am especially happy to meet Elaine. I had a strong feeling we would all meet someday.”

Ben opens his bottle of Mogen David wine and begins a Thanksgiving tradition in the Perkins home lasting long after our new visitor was gone and even after three more baby girls are  born to Fran and Elaine Perkins, years later.

Fran Perkins Home
Fran’s home in Lake In the Hills. He built this home by himself, standing with his 3 baby girls who came later and son, Wayne in uniform.


Wayne and Linda meet Santa Claus the day after meeting War Hero, Benjamin I. Weiss and their ride in his Daisy Mae…
Fran married the girl he left behind. Lady Elaine. They spent the rest of their lives together, in gratitude…

The Thanksgiving dinner is wonderful and the conversation is lively, but conspicuously absent of talk about the War. This is a silent tribute to the friends and family they lost during World War II.  Fran and Ben are living their lives because of those friends. Their friends sacrificed and payed life forward to the two young men enjoying a grateful Thanksgiving that only they can fully understand and appreciate. Somewhere,  the rest of the silent crew must be smiling.

After dinner, Ben has a surprise for the Perkins family. Weiss commands, “Saddle up everyone, we have a mission to complete. We must complete our mission.”

Within, two minutes, we find ourselves loading into Ben’s rental car. He takes us to an airport in Chicago as he has a surprise for the Fran’s family. During World War II, the airport was called CIT or Chicago International Airport. Today, Chicago International Airport, has had a recent name change. It is now named after the most significant battle of the Pacific Front during World War II. It  carries the famous name of the battle that restored hope in every living American in the summer of 1942. It was the same name as the airfield that the Daisy Mae took off from and crash landed during her famous battle at 17,000 feet above Wake Island.

The airport Ben, Fran and the family are traveling to is now called “Midway.”

At Midway, Ben unloads the car and quickly and efficiently loads the family onto a small single engine airplane. Fran in the front passenger seat, Linda and Wayne in the rear seat. As Ben was lifting up Fran’s six year old son, little Wayne asks the World War II hero, “Uncle Ben, do you have a name for your airplane?”

“Yes, I do as he winks at my Dad. I call her the Daisy Mae.”

The Last Flight of the Daisy Mae…

The autumn sun is setting as Ben’s Daisy Mae is taking off from Midway. Soon, they are flying over Wrigley Field, Comiskey Park, Soldier Field, and all of the venues that the Perkins family will enjoy over their lifetimes because of the heroics of the two young men  sitting in the front seats and the brave sacrifices of the other nine crew members on one hellish day in the summer of 1943.

Fran and Ben fly as two brothers, flying, talking, laughing  and just having fun. This time there is no rank or decorum separating them. In place of bullets and bombs, there are heroes and hope.

Ben turns the plane around and heads out to the darkest regions of Chicago’s Lake Michigan. Soon Ben turns over controls to Fran and is teaching him how to fly for the very first time. Fran cannot believe it. With his young family as witness, Fran Perkins obeys every command Ben gives him and enjoys every moment he is sharing with his family.

“Fran, I remember the last time we were on the bomber together. You asked me if I ever navigated by the stars. Do you want to learn how?

Fran Perkins can barely speak. An emotional lump fills his throat. Fran nods “yes” and Ben points to the star filled November skies.

Fran Perkins is now learning how to fly and navigate by the best damned navigator in the whole damned Army Air Corps. Ben Weiss delivers on a dream and a promise he made ten years earlier in a desperate battle, when the odds were neither Ben nor Fran would survive.

Ben instructs Fran to look out the window into the star filled black skies over Lake Michigan, and says, “Fran the secret to navigating at night involves mastering two tools.”

“What are the tools I need to master. I’m ready,” Fran replies determined.

Fran is feeling the same excitement he felt many years ago , when he was just nineteen climbing aboard his very first B-24 bomber with his buddies.

Ben points to the windshield and then to his right and says, “first you need to find the North Star which is located near that frying pan formation over there and then you need to master the most important tool of all.”

“OK, what tool is that, Ben?”

Ben smiles, “You need hope. Never underestimate the power of hope.”

Happy Thanksgiving…


Excerpted from the Last Flight of the Daisy Mae: A Story of Heroism and Hope at 17,000 Feet, by Wayne F. Perkins author/publisher. You can order the book from Amazon.com and fine bookstores everywhere. You can also ask your librarian to order the true story of heroism and hope,  for your public or school library. It is available through Baker and Taylor Library  Wholesalers, and Createspace for libraries. Copyright ©2016 Wayne F. Perkins, Whispers of Heroes.



3 Heroes on the DMZ

3 Heroes on the DMZ

Three men I am so proud to have served with in the Army include Billy Lewis, Song CK and Jung Muyung.

Upon arriving at our home base at Camp Hovey, Korea on Christmas Eve, in 1966, these three men along with Tony Rangel provided me a family many thousands of miles from home. I never had a brother growing and these three along with so many others became my brothers in the “Land of the Morning Calm,” Korea.

From Left to Right…

Two, KATUSAs, (Korean Augmentation to the United States Army)  Sung and Jung, are seated next to Billy Lewis, showing them how to embrace their duty in a foreign land.

Billy Lewis…

Shown on the left was one of the first guys I ever met in the Army. We were stationed at Fort Campbell, Kentucky, located on the Tennessee/Kentucky border. Growing up in a small, rural area of Tennessee, he was my personal Davy Crockett, the King of the Wild Frontier. (For those of you who read my narrative non-fiction book, “The Last Flight of the Daisy Mae, ” I used Billy Lewis as my Dad’s rifle instructor during World War II, but he became my rifle “coach,” when I was at Fort Campbell in Basic Training. He was a trainee just like myself, however on the very first day on the rifle range, he would fire his M14, like no-one the instructors, had ever seen before. No one ever experienced a shot grouping so tightly packed together no matter the target distance.

When I raised my M14 rifle to shoot for the very first time, I was wild and was afraid of the kick. I was flinching badly on every shot. When the instructors stopped the firing to reload, they sent Billy Lewis, to give me some help.

He reacted as the true Country Gentleman he truly was, and with a little advice, coaching, and using Tennessee wind-age and Kentucky elevation, I was soon shooting like a pro.

After Basic Training at Fort Campbell, he, Tony Rangel and I were all sent to Fort Dix, New Jersey, for Light Vehicle Training School. We were only there for 5 weeks, because we were needed badly in South Korea, as six men on patrol were ambushed on our side of the South Korean border and 50,000 South Korean (ROK) troops were sent to help our American forces in Vietnam.

Billy and the KATUSAs in the picture are sharing stories and culture as they are helpful in translating for us and are sworn to put up with our outrageous behaviors.

Song, CK…

Before arriving at Camp Hovey, I spent a few days, waiting for a unit to start up. I,  along with the three men shown in the picture, would be the first soldiers in  the Weapons Platoon, (3rd Platoon) of B company 3rd Battalion 32nd Infantry, Regiment of the 7th Division.

After the bugle for reveille, “Aejukga,” the National Anthem of Korea and then the Star Spangled Banner, would play. We would hold our salutes through both. Aejukga is a beautiful song and immediately gave me a sense of purpose in being in such a unique foreign land.

When I arrived in my hooch, a Quonset Hut that could hold 40 soldiers, immediately Song and Chung came over to help me unpack my duffel bag and help me arrange things in my wall locker and foot locker.

Korea in 1966
Camp Hovey during the cold winter in Korea

I never met a native of any country before and now I was meeting Song and Jung for the first time, just like Billy Lewis shown in the picture at the beginning of this story.

Telling Private Song in English that I love the sound of his Korean National Anthem, “Aegukga,” he was beaming his approval to that statement and asked, “Perkiso, do you want to learn how to sing it?”

What an honor, I thought, “Yes I would.”

In teaching me the song, he was very patient with my pronunciation of the words, laughing at times, and then he sang it with such a beautiful voice, it almost brought me to tears. Even though I was nineteen years old, I was so appreciative of my new friends and was willing to give my life for Billy and my new buddies shown here.

Song, whose name fit, because he was always happy and singing, appreciated our compliments, always had a smile on his face. He struggled to learn English but he taught me all of the words to the Korean National Anthem, which I still remember today. After teaching me the Anthem he began to sing a song called “Arirang.”

Arirang, in English sounds like “ah-di-dahng.”  You can hear it played in every shop and restaurant. It is a story about a man leaving his home to go to work and hiking up through a pass in the mountains called “Arirang.”

The strange thing about it is  Arirang means different things to different people. To Privates Song and Jung, (pronounced Chung) it meant “friendship between Americans and Koreans.” It means whatever the listener wants it to mean. Walking down the street in Seoul or in the village, a stranger may be humming the song, from the other direction another Korean may hear it and start singing it. The country of South Korea was a Broadway Musical. Arirang is the featured theme song of the country. Played as a marching tune, “Arirang”  was the official marching song of my 7th Division. It was designated the official marching song after the cease fire agreement in 1953. Even though the 7th Division is stateside now, they still play “Arirang” as a march to salute their Korean comrades.

Here is Arirang followed by the South Korean National Anthem, “Aeguka” played a Flash Mob of University students. Listen and enjoy the YouTube video.

Jung, Muyung…

AKA  “Jerry Lewis,” because of his smile and sense of humor. Jung was the first KATUSA, I met after arriving at our new “hooch, ” Quonset Hut barracks at Camp Hovey.

Shown on the far right is Private Jung Muyung. Jung, and Song sat with me my first night in Korea, showing were to put my clothes and gear to make sure I was ready for inspections that happened  all of the time.

Friendships begin in Korea
Privates Billy Lewis, Song C.K, and Jung Myung swap stories and build friendships.

Jerry and I Get in a Fight?…

One Sunday, we were off duty in our hooch, and I began telling Jung about American hand-to-hand combat. When the 7th Division practiced hand to hand, we either used the bogus stuff we learned in Basic Training, or we had to use our rifles with bayonets attached because we were know as the “Bayonet Division.”

All of our KATUSA’s, there were three assigned to each platoon, went to another area down the road and practiced taekwondo.

I challenged Jung, to a match, and within a few seconds I got him locked up. We were in a standing position, and all of a sudden, Jung gave me a head butt, and I started falling backwards. Jung began yelling, “Perkiso, Perkiso,” as I was seeing stars and falling backwards. Even as I was dazed and falling backwards, I tried to signal him that it was okay and not to worry about me.

He hovered over my limp body until I came to. We were just goofing off and Jung felt badly and so did I. The head wound didn’t hurt as much as knowing my new friend, reacted just as he was trained to do in combat by his KATUSA leader, SGT Han.

All of us went up to the DMZ together on Labor Day, September 4, 1967. That was the last time I got to talk with Song and Jung, but when I listen to the Korean student flash mob, I think I still am communicating with my good friends…

Wayne F. Perkins US54805848

3rd Platoon, (Weapons Platoon) 3rd Battalion, 32nd Infantry Regiment, 7th Infantry Division, Korea, 1966-67…









“Bombs Bursting in Air”…

“Bombs Bursting in Air”

My First Night on the DMZ…

A loud explosion, then another, then another, and then another. Shaking from the explosions, sand and dust fill my small four foot tall, four foot wide, sandbagged position. Coming out of a deep sleep, lying face down on a gravel covered wool Army blanket, I tried to stand up. I forgot I crawled in headfirst to a tiny shelter a half and hour earlier. There was no room to stand up.

Reaching for my M14 rifle propped up against sandbags, I was grabbing at air. Disoriented, because this was my first night on the dangerous Korean DMZ, (demilitarized zone)  I needed help, fast.

Stevens, from the 2nd Infantry Division (Indianhead Division) grabbed me by the arm and said, “don’t worry, those are friendly guns They are  155mm Howitzer shells coming from mobile artillery guns from the South side of the Imjin River. They are registering points along the DMZ.”

Before I could ask Stevens, “Why”, another brilliant flash from an artillery blast  hit about a football field away just northeast of our jeep. The light was a blinding bright white light, against the overcast dark September sky. The explosions were just down at the bottom of my light jeep hill, and bursting about ten feet off the ground. The bursts were following a road that connects our 7th Division defensive positions with the South Korean defensive positions starting about two hundred meters to my right and extending East 150 miles toward the sea.

Time Travel…

“I can prove it to you,” Stevens shouted into my now ringing ears.  The artillery shells are going about 100 feet above our hill, right over our heads and exploding along the South Korean DMZ South fenceline. When the next volley hits, you will see the explosion because light travels faster than sound. Then you will hear the explosions, and finally you will hear the sound of the artillery rounds traveling overhead and sounding like a freight train. It is all bass ackwards.”

Now my eyes and ears were able to make sense of his words, and I saw the explosion flashes followed by the exploding sounds and finally the cha, cha, cha, cha, sounds of the warheads going over our heads. Time travels in reverse.

Everything was scrambled, not what I was expecting on my very first night on the Korean DMZ. It was truly amazing.

The artillery was doing more than practicing. This was the very first night for our company guarding the DMZ. This would be the perfect time for infiltrators bent on destruction or the entire North Korean Army to invade to get us, the rookie soldiers from our 7th Division, rather than the always ready, 2nd Infantry Division.  After a while I began to look at the explosions as a security blanket so I could relax.

With 2nd Division artillery filling the valley with explosions between our positions and the fenceline, the North Koreans might decide on attacking another night.

It was Labor Day, September 4, 1967. It was about ten PM. Darkness prevailed after the explosions ended.

“You will die the death of dogs…”

Stevens and I made a small talk, before he announced he was going to take a short nap in my vacated four by four, sandbagged sleep chamber. Putting up with me tonight, Stevens earned some nap time.

A flute playing an eerie song, began over the North Korean propaganda speakers, facing our direction. After taking off his steel pot, (helmet) Stevens said, “that is the Korean Death Song. They play that to spook out our South Korean friends who are guarding in the foxholes below. It bothers some of those guys real bad.  I am going to take a nap .Are you going to be okay out here by yourself?”

I’ll be fine  Maybe after that song they will play my favorite by the “Who.” “I Can See for Miles and Miles.”

“Maybe they will,” Stevens laughed.

Stevens dove into my 4X4 sandbagged shelter, and began snoring quickly. This was fine by me by me because I got to listen to the the Communist North Korean Late show with death songs dirges, military marches, and all kinds of noises in three part harmony.

Then I heard some comic book style verbal threats in English broadcast over their propaganda speakers.

“The Democratic People’s Republic of Korea is mobilized and ready for war.” Tonight you will die the death of dogs.”

A long period of silence ensued. Breathing deeply now is helping me relax, I walked around my position a bit, and I could spot a South Korean Village about two miles behind me. During the day the sky was hazy, but since it is now about 11PM at night, I can see glowing lights from traffic in the town, possibly busses or taxis. It was strange to not see the metal but only the light shining through the windows of moving busses.

As I do an about face and look North again,  all I can see is complete darkness. There are no lights from stores, or busses, or homes. Just complete, utter darkness.

I told myself I would remember this always. The darkness I was staring into not only was hiding the people of North Korea but also the faces of the fourth largest standing army in the world. It was said later that over 750,000 North Korean troops along with huge divisions of artillery and tanks, were bunched up and ready for invade South Korea.

Tonight, however, there were only the comic book sounding threats, with only a promise that more would come soon.

For tonight, I had only a few more hours to daylight.

I think I will stay up to see the morning Sun peacefully rise over the Land of the Morning Calm…South Korea.  Stevens can nap all he wants. For long months he worked on this hill guarding Freedom’s Frontier. He has earned his rest. He leaves tomorrow for home.

This is my first night of many along my new home and my infrared searchlight, becoming the eyes in the dark for our men stationed along the fence line below, on the South Korean DMZ. I hope I enjoy it.

I wonder if I will remember this place and these feelings many years from now.

I can only hope….

My position on the hill facing North Korea
My position on the hill facing North Korea
Looking across American position and North East on the DMZ
Looking across American positions  and North East on the DMZ

Wayne F. Perkins US54805848

Company B, 3rd Battalion, 32nd Infantry Regiment,  7th Infantry Division.

Korean DMZ