Preface to "Broken Wings"

PREFACE:

There is...
A time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
Ecclesiastes 3:1,8 (NIV)


It had been a long war, but successful. The United States and her allies had fought long and hard, both on the battlefield and at home, where more war matériel had been produced than at any time in history. Men and machines were tired. Most men came home. Most machines did not. These great monuments to our victory were expendable.

Perhaps this was how it should have been. Our machines of war were built not only to deliver serious damage to their respective targets, but also to protect and bring home their crews. Our tanks, ships and planes were built to take huge amounts of punishment and continue to operate, often at the expense of firepower. While there is a great deal of logic to this during wartime (it is cheaper to build a plane than to train another pilot,) much of the design reflected our concern for the lives of our soldiers, sailors and airmen.

Not all of our enemies felt this way. Japan built fighting aircraft to the lightest standard possible in order to maximize their flying and fighting ability. The Zero was a formidable foe, maneuverable and quick, yet it offered almost no protection for its pilot. Our philosophies on life and winning were far different. Our insistence on the protection of our precious crews, and our vast capabilities to produce led to the development of the most amazing war machine ever assembled.

While we are not attempting to explore the philosophy of war, it helps to understand that these deep seated beliefs had profound impact on how the war was fought and won, and on the aftermath—disarmament. Just as Russia had relied on her vast resources and nearly limitless supply of people, we relied on our industrial might. As Germany had followed the leadings of one man, we followed the will of our people. As Japan attempted to enslave all of the Pacific nations, we attempted to free the world from tyrants. These feelings didn't end with the war. Our winning only ensured that ours would be the philosophy that prevailed. Our philosophy, and that of our allies.

Our war machine was vast, covering much of the globe. Toward the end of the war, the Pacific was controlled by our warships and many islands were temporary home to huge armies and vast quantities of war matériel. The situation was common to Italy and North Africa and the Mediterranean. Yet nowhere was our presence more obvious than in England. England was, and continues to be, almost a mother country to us. Most of us trace at least part of our heritage there, and our government has its roots in British law and tradition. We even speak the same language, well almost. Clearly England was our first foothold in the European side of this war.

England was the first nation to successfully resist the initial onslaught of Hitler's armies. Newly-elected Prime Minister Winston Churchill had worked tirelessly to prepare the English people for the conflict, both psychologically and militarily. Resolve was high, if not morale. The war in the air took a terrible toll on British life. Destruction was everywhere. Defeat was a solid possibility, regardless of the staunch rejection of the thought by Churchill and others. Many credit the English Channel as the greatest aid to England's capability to keep Hitler's Germany at bay with such a small air force and limited industrial capability.

December 7, 1941: everything changed. The American industrial power switched from supplying limited war matériel to our friends and began working full speed to arm ourselves and our allies. The next few years saw massive increases in technology and industrial ability. Not only were new and better weapons developed, but also developed in numbers so vast it would be hard to imagine today. When the fighting ceased, with our victory secure, we began a return to normalcy. It began with an almost immediate disarmament.

While hindsight may point to better disarmament strategies, we will make no attempt to go there. What was done was done. Just as the United States had gone headlong into military production, it went headlong into peacetime. Men were sent home, nearly all having served their country with honor and dedication. Those homecomings are still fresh in the minds of a declining number of those brave men and women and the families to whom they returned. Those who never returned left a burning hole in the collective heart of the nation. No amount of honoring can do justice to the sacrifice they gave.

The massive war machine that, in part, made our victory possible didn't just slowly decline, it dropped dramatically in size in mere months. Today, it is most often represented by static displays on courthouse lawns and the occasional gatherings at airports around the nation. Thankfully, it commands more importance now than in those early years. We now recognize the value of these monuments to victory. The public owes a debt to those men who spend their lives and fortunes restoring the tanks and planes of the conflict. World War II re-enactments far outstrip any descriptions written in books. These first person experiences educate generations to the reality of the conflict, just as the words of an aged veteran who speaks before a class of wide-eyed children. These are honorable pursuits.

This book attempts to honor and remember those forgotten machines that also served honorably and well, only to be left behind--their duty done. We will focus solely on the aircraft left in England after the conflict. While this covers but a small part of allied war machine, it is not an insignificant amount. My father, TSGT Myron E. Kelly, and his crew, destroyed 3200 of the finest aircraft ever to put air beneath their wings before leaving Base Air Depot #1, Burtonwood, England.

In order to understand the destruction of these aircraft, we need to understand why they were there and why, suddenly, they were not important to us at the end of the war. Considering the time that has transpired since the end of the war, many--perhaps most--people may have trouble understanding what led up to this. This book aspires to present an overview of events leading up to the war, the massive buildup of aircraft, our presence in England, and ultimately VE-Day and VJ-Day and the end of the war. Only with that understanding can we understand why so much war material came to be destroyed.

The book also remembers and honors Burtonwood, my father, those who served with him and all those who served to protect our way of life. Some of the book is taken from Dad's papers, written in his own hand. I hope these writings convey some of the feelings of the times and give the reader a better understanding of the life in the military. Obviously these letters are the product of one man; yet, in a way, they tell the story of a generation. As much as anything, it is their story.