Some Still Believe

The honor flight on 16 September, 2015 gave me reason to see that ` <SOME STILL BELIEVE>

My son Gary picked me up on schedule and we proceeded to the Sheraton Motel near the Rose State College Campus in Midwest City, OK (An excellent motel by any standard). As we approached I noticed some United States Flags being posted along the street curbs and I was mildly curious as we registered at the motel desk. Our greeting at the entrance and in the lobby was as the arrival of a long lost family member.
We went next to the Rose State/Hudiburg Chevrolet Center for Orientation, snacks, and getting acquainted. Many more flags lined the roadway and my curiosity won out. I turned to Gary and asked, “What are all the flags about; veterans day is almost a month away?” The reply shocked me; “Those flags are for you, Daddy.”
I received one blessing, honor, and surprise that is mine alone. As I sat gabbing with other veterans, soft arms slipped around my neck from behind and lips kissed behind my ear. I twisted far enough to see Kevin Benfield and just a portion of the face of my daughter Cheri Wood Benfield. I expected to see then on 19 September as they arrived to their new home in Choctaw, OK; moving from their long time home in Oregon. They had arrived on 14 September and kept it a secret from me for that special moment of honor and surprise.
Dear Friends, I have only started telling of the happenings that have bewildered, dazzled, delighted, and tore my heart in these two days. You may tire of the hearing. I shall never part from the memory. My regret is that my two brother and so many others could never receive these honors that I accept in their stead. Most never wanted a memorial and were never privileged to even see a picture.

The things I saw were much as I expected and I am grateful for having seen them. The people I met and traveled with were grand and I was happy to see that some WWII veterans were in good shape, appearing to have some mileage left in them. Our flights were smooth except for a few weather bumps in the air and the crew treated us like royalty as they served us with two excellent and very satisfying meals. Those are the everyday facts of these last two days but certainly not the headliners.
To tell “The Rest of the Story” will take many paragraphs and pages, even though I will forget to include much of it. Before we left Rose State College Campus and definitely before we boarded our plane at Will Rogers World Airport, telling what people did will doubly exhaust my available supply of superlatives.
The American Heritage Girls, uniformed, polite, and pretty, were serving cup cakes and coffee to us and just as we were hungering for something more substantial, they brought the offering from Midwest City Chick-fil-a; delicious, hot, and tasty chicken sandwiches. I noticed some of us availed ourselves of more than one. The supply was plentiful. I don’t wish to get ahead of myself but when we boarded the bus at Baltimore, it was hungry time again and another Chic-fil-a met our needs with more sandwiches and trimmings.

My son and I always pack a couple of candy bars for emergencies. They were in our luggage. A friend who always looks after voyagers had slipped a package into my luggage; just a small one with a small loose leaf notebook and pen, flashlight, two pocket packs of Kleenex, candy and cookies. My son was in a meeting getting instructions and some supplies from “Honor Flight”. There was a hat for each plus a red T-shirt for the ‘guardians’ and a blue T-shirt for the veterans, and a ‘fanny-pack’ for each veteran that was filled with more edible goodies. When we arose (in the middle of the night) the motel offered coffee and doughnuts.
Our name tags were coded with Red, White, or Blue to match the colored stars in the front window of our three buses. The bus captains checked us as we boarded, then, called the roll after we were boarded to assure that we were present. They took no chances of losing someone in a restroom or on another bus. No mother could have shown better care.
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I forgot one of the finest details; our ride to Will Rogers World Airport was no ordinary drive. Our buses were lead off by the Patriot Guard Motorcycle Brigade shortly after 0400 hours. I don’t know their number but there were plenty and the cavalcade was such as one might expect for some high dignitary. Those gentlemen knew their routine and performed it in an exact manner. The Oklahoma Highway Patrol joined to lead us on the interstate. They cause us to feel very honored and important.
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The captain showed similar care on takeoff by holding to the runway until normal take-off speed was exceeded. A smooth accent took us to cruising altitude and we were about ready for another doughnut but the airline had a different plan. The stewardesses brought a nice tray with orange juice, some mixed fruit, butter, an individual tray with a very good egg and cheese with ham omelet; then coffee or other drink. The neck rests of our seats were covered by napkins honoring our flight.
We surrendered an hour by coming to the East Time Zone and arrived close to noon at the Baltimore, Maryland, Air Terminal. Tour busses awaited us for our excursion to Washington, DC, and Arlington National Cemetery in Virginia.
At the World War Two Memorial, Gary pushed my wheel chair and the pillar for Arkansas was the first that I noticed. My best buddy had been from Arkansas and I thought of him and the little community of Bluffton. Many with his family name live around there but Jimmy just disappeared. I wonder if he was another who returned and found no home. There were many.
People were so friendly and volunteering to take photos for strangers. We took many photos but the camera card can’t be found right now. All veterans are supposed to get a DVD with pictures a professional photographer took. He was with us all of the trip.
We arrived at ideal time to view the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Many names of people I knew are on those innumerable markers in that cemetery. Sobering to realize that the bodies of many more lie in dedicated and honored cemeteries around the world; buried near the place where they fell.
I had seen films of the Changing of the Guard. To be present at that moment is altogether different. When I arose from my wheel chair and saluted, my eyes dimmed with tears. For the first time, I realized that no commissioned officer is involved; a fact I should have known. I was pleased to see that the rifles being inspected and carried with such pride was the beautiful old M1 Garand .30-06 caliber that had served us so faithfully.
We also saw the Marine Iwo Jima monument and stopped briefly there and at the Korean War Memorial. Without dismounting, we saw the Air Force and Coast Guard Memorials. Thirty new acres has been purchased to add to the Air Force grounds.
We saw the buildings of Washington, DC, including the White House. I’m happy that I don’t have to mow that lawn. We arrived back at Baltimore as darkness fell and I think we were all tired enough to be ready to go home.
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Amid flags and decorations and friendly greetings, we boarded the airplane at Baltimore for our return trip. Bus Captains always made sure that we were all in place. I was on the Red Bus and an angel named Vickie was our bus captain. Three busses, Red White and Blue. Gary Banz was with us all the way and made himself available and indispensible to every need. Gary’s wife Ann was one of the bus captains I believe. I don’t know how well it was known but Gary happens to be my district State Representative.
One great outstanding person made this trip possible for me and I can’t fully express my gratitude or the joy I gained from his company. My son Gary Wood made sure that my every need was met and spent the day pushing me in a wheel chair. My body gladly accepts that wheelchair but my mind still refuses to succumb. Gary has never failed to be by me when I needed him.
Our plane both ways was Boeing 737 Miami Air Charter(I think that is a subdivision of Delta Air Lines). We were airborne just after dark and smoothly reached cruising altitude where we were served our dinner (I still call it supper); a tray of Lasagna, salad and dressing, assorted fruit, roll and butter. Coffee was delayed a short time. Sections of that road from Baltimore reminded me of I-40; it needs repaving.
I think we were a few minutes behind schedule on approach to OKC but were greeted at the gate by airline personnel with wheelchairs for those of us who had that need. Except for the Honor Flight group and a few debarking passengers from other aircraft, all was quiet in the secure area as some took care of personal needs. Most had declared their intent to return to Midwest City; either to the motels or to their vehicles. Some I knew intended to drive to Enid. We were all tired and I was happy to be close to home. Surely most of our world was at home in bed at this midnight hour.
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I was near the lead as we exited the secure area to get back on our bus and get home. My tired body was ready to relax. Just a few more miles; a few more minutes. Is that a band playing?? That waiting room is filled with people; some waiving little flags; everyone shouting greetings, “Welcome Home”, “God Bless You”, “Thank You For Your Service”; Hands reaching out to touch, for a handshake, a little girl thrust he tiny flag into my hand. I don’t know exactly why or how but that flag found its way to my lips. Grade school age children were in that crowd at midnight. I saw their buses later; midnight and they were still an hour’s drive from home. I was having trouble with my eyes but I’m pretty sure that I saw and shook the hand of a Marine with seven stripes but I wasn’t mistaken about that Silver Star on his chest.
A bunch of old ‘has beens’ had gathered for a flight to a cemetery where the bodies of many we had known now rested. We really didn’t know what to expect. Did anyone really care? We would have a good time for one day and add it to our memories.
Our greeting had been a great surprise and each hour built on the last. Flags on the curbs for us!! Individual recognition before a crowded auditorium of people. Motor escort down the interstate highway with priority over all other traffic, airport waiting area and the plane decorated for our honor, meals on that plane better than I had ever enjoyed in previous flights, a band playing and decorations at Baltimore and one of the airport staff was even singing our old songs, if requested, and now we are coming home, elated but tired.
We exited that secure area to that which, I don’t believe, any of us expected. A packed waiting area old young and old thought it worth their time to leave their homes and wait at midnight to greet us.
I feel sure that each of us was changed by those people for they convinced me; SOME STILL BELIEVE in what we believed, fought for, suffered, and many died for.
Thank You. (by Trooper Wood).

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