This blog hints at the story of one soldier, a pilot: Lt. Colonel Robert E. Barney. This edition salutes him; it also commemorates all people who have worn uniforms in our country's service.
When I was a kid, Memorial Day was called Decoration Day. It started as an event in the South to honor Union soldiers who had died in the Civil War. After World War II the name was changed; Memorial Day now pays tribute to all American men women who have died in any war or military action. It seems to me however that we should also recognize thousands . . . nay, millions of those who served and were fortunate enough to return from the scourge of wars. That would certainly include those currently being deployed.
That concept is what I had planned to feature in a May blog, closer to May 28—the date for this year's Memorial Day. But last week an unexpected email changed my mind: Patty gave me the sad news that her dad, my friend Bob Barney had died. He is one of the millions we will be thanking for their service.
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Bob and I met nearly six years ago at a book fair in Escondido, California. We each had a book to sell. His, titled Bulletproof--- I bought immediately--- and soon found myself engrossed in a saga which had all the makings of a cliff hanging motion picture.
In fewer than 240 pages--- almost read in one sitting--- we relive Bob's life from his teenage years in Parma, Missouri to his brief career as a semi-pro baseball player--- a shoulder injury cut that short-- to his 20 month stint in the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), time spent as a guide at the New York World's Fair in 1939, and eventually his enlistment in the army. As he tells it, “ . . . with nary a buck in my pocket, I passed the post office. A U. S. Armed Forces recruiting sign in the window caught my eye. . . . The first door read U. S. Army; if the Navy or Marine Corp. had occupied the first office, one of them would have been my selection.” The recruiter told him that signing up at that moment would assure an assignment in Hawaii. Bob asked as to the requirements necessary. The officer placed a paper before him and muttered, “Sign here.”
Bob Barney got the assignment to Hawaii. He was there December 7, 1941. His story from that date to his retirement from professional life in 1984 chronicles the military life—from basic training, flight school, combat missions as pilot of a B-17 Flying Fortress, being shot down over enemy territory; his time as a POW, escape, and being harbored by a compassionate German farm family until he was repatriated by making contact with the Third Army. (General Patton)
Following the tremendous highs and lows of his Army time, we further vicariously experience Bob's life post war. Much flying for many supervisors. Flights to, as they say “the four corners” transporting people and products, typhoon chasing, flying a B-29 through the fallout of an H-bomb dropped on Eniwetok. Civilian jobs included: Account Executive for a firm of the New York Stock Exchange and Marketing rep for Brunswick Corporation. Pocket billiards. He called it “A perfect fit.”
Bob loved magic . . . as I do. Unfortunately we had but few lunch sessions in noisy restaurants (hearing aids are something else we had in common) where we shared tricks and stories about people we knew in the pursuit. They were delicious times.
Finally, if you read Bulletproof--I hope you will-- something else will impress you. The book is dedicated to Donna, his wife of almost 65 years. Their love for each other shows, in Bob's writing and it was evident the only time Bernita and I got to meet her.
I so fortunate to have had Bob Barney for a friend.
