Black Airmen Savor Bittersweet Memories

In the old photograph, the handsome soldier is smiling, posing next to a fighter plane with “Kitten” painted on the side in honor of his wife. There is no wartime swagger in his smile, although Charles McGee had every right to brag.

But bragging could get a black man in trouble in 1944, even if that black man was a World War II fighter pilot as good as, or better than, the white men who gave him orders.

Even now, as one of only a few pilots--white or black--who flew combat missions in three wars, McGee does not brag.

“I’m pretty thankful just to be here,” the 75-year-old veteran said over lunch recently. “You could say that one of the things we were fighting for was equality. Equality of opportunity. We knew we had the same skills, or better.”

McGee, of Kansas City, and 24 other black former combat pilots met in Fredericksburg, some for the first time since they left the military. They’re all survivors of a war overseas and another at home.

“We had a very unique set of hurdles to surmount,” said William R. Melton of Los Angeles. “Our main protection was a hell of a sense of humor.”

Forced to admit blacks in 1941, the Army Air Corps didn’t know what to do with them.

They were sent to a crude training field near Tuskegee Institute in rural Alabama--brushed off as the “Tuskegee experiment” by Pentagon commanders--where they drilled and drilled for years while white commanders passed them over for combat duty.

“The Army thought then that blacks weren’t smart enough to fly airplanes. They thought we would all fail,” said Harry Sheppard of Arlington, Va. “They didn’t know what they were creating.”

Better educated than many of their white counterparts and far better trained, the Tuskegee Airmen--as the 900 came to be called--turned out to be among the best the Army produced.

Led by a stern black lieutenant general whose West Point classmates had refused to speak to him for four years, the first Tuskegee Airmen finally got a chance to fight in June, 1943.

Over the next two years, black pilots shot down nearly 600 enemy airplanes.

In 200 missions escorting the big, vulnerable bombers, the all-black 332nd Fighter Group didn’t lose a single bomber. It is a record unequaled by any fighter group in any war anywhere, said Melton, who is writing a book about the pilots.

Of the 450 black pilots who fought overseas, 66 were killed and 33 taken prisoner. One of the POWs, Alex Jefferson, said his German captors were shocked to find a black face under his aviator’s mask.

For all their success, though, the black pilots faced constant reminders that the Army, and many in their country, believed they were inferior.

When Jefferson returned to Detroit after 18 1/2 missions and nine months in German camps, he got no hero’s welcome.

“I couldn’t find a job. With a master’s degree in organic chemistry, I became an elementary school science teacher. We knew what we had done, and sure the resentment was there. But we were just so goddamn busy trying to make things meet, we were too busy to be very vocal.”

In 1972, several original pilots formed an association that sponsors such projects as reunions and a traveling museum. Since then, books and a Broadway play have told the Tuskegee Airmen story. Both Home Box Office and George Lucas are planning movies.

The airmen’s gathering was like any meeting of old warriors. They teased each other, took pictures and renewed friendships.

“We’ve got a million stories,” McGee said with a grin. “It’s amazing how much you remember. It’s like hitting a recall button when you see these faces.”

It was the first time many of the pilots had seen one another in decades--and for some it probably will be the last. One of the pilots who planned to attend died in June, and a few others declined the invitation because of poor health.

“We were the only blacks, so we were always together. We went through everything together, all the way through,” McGee said. “And here we are still.”