“Hello, hello, welcome to the Peoples’ House,” he said, smiling broadly as he came around the big mahogany desk. Turning to Joel, he said, “Colonel Knight, kindly introduce me to your wife.”
Flustered at being in the president’s presence and being acknowledged by name, Joel introduced them. Joel’s injured left arm was still in a cast, and supported with an Olive Drab sling. Truman moved down the line to Staff Sergeant Phillip Lloyd and his wife Dianne, ending with Sergeant Rex Argon, and his fiancée, Miss Imogene Alexander.
Having completed the introductions, Truman moved aside, and General Henry “Hap” Arnold, Chief of Staff, U.S. Army Air Forces, stepped forward. Joel had been so focused on seeing the President, he hadn’t even noticed the white haired general. The three men snapped to attention.
The smiling general said, “Attention to Orders: we are gathered here today to award some of our nation’s highest honors to three brave men. Colonel Knight, step forward.”
Joel moved one step forward, his eyes locked on a seam in the wallpaper across from him. A photographer’s flash barely registered.
“Colonel Joel Thomas Knight, it is my privilege to award you the Silver Star for Gallantry in Action Against an Enemy of the United States. The citation follows: On or about 1700 hours on the afternoon of 6 September 1945, Colonel Knight and the crew of his P-61fighter aircraft engaged in single aerial combat with a deeply penetrating enemy bomber over the state of Tennessee. During the course of said combat, Colonel Knight’s aircraft was fired upon repeatedly by the hostile invader and was damaged. Despite the damage, Colonel Knight distinguished himself by exemplary airmanship and courage in pursuing the attack and shooting down the enemy in disregard of the risk to his own life. Colonel Knight’s aircraft was the only U.S. aircraft in close enough vicinity to engage the enemy, whose target was a highly secret U.S. Government facility, the loss of which would have had extremely deleterious effects on the nation’s defense. After forcing the enemy aircraft to crash land, Colonel Knight landed his own aircraft nearby, and engaged its pilot using his handgun. Colonel Knight was wounded in the exchange of gunfire. Despite his wounds, Colonel Knight boldly persevered with his own attack, wounding the enemy, and taking him prisoner. Colonel Knight’s expert airmanship and bravery on the ground prevented a disastrous event from occurring, and resulted in the capture of a high ranking enemy officer. It must be further noted that with the downing of this aircraft, Colonel Knight became only the third ace among the pilots defending America’s Eastern seaboard. This fact by its self would have merited this award, so it is doubly deserved. In addition, I award you the Purple Heart in the name of the President of the United States for wounds suffered while serving in the Army of the United States in armed conflict with an enemy of this nation. It is also my pleasure to award to Colonel Knight and his crew the newly authorized Coastal Defense Medal.” The purple, yellow, green and white ribbon seemed garish to Joel.
General Arnold turned to Susan, “Mrs. Knight, would you assist me, please?” Susan wiped the tears streaming down her face, and took the star-shaped Silver Star with its red, white and blue ribbon, and helped General Arnold pin it to Joel’s chest. The heart-shaped Purple Heart medal with the image of George Washington hanging from a purple ribbon was pinned just below it. Lastly, the Coastal Defense Medal, a gold disc with the image of a Revolutionary War Minuteman was hung beside the Purple Heart. The photographers’ flashes went off several times.
“I’m very proud of you, Colonel. Good job, you made us all look good.” Joel saluted and stepped back into line, his head whirling.
While Joel remained at attention, General Arnold awarded Staff Sergeant Phillip Lloyd and Sergeant Rex Argon each a Distinguished Flying Cross and a Coastal Defense Medal. Their citations weren’t as flowery as Joel’s but nonetheless acknowledged their significant contributions to the event.
I sure couldn’t have done it without them, Joel thought with gratitude. Each man was photographed separately, with his wife/ fiancée, and then the three men were photographed together.
President Truman shook their hands for more photographs. He congratulated them warmly, and invited everyone to join him in the Rose Garden where they would meet the press and answer questions.
In the Rose Garden
To Joel’s dismay, the Rose Garden was full of reporters and photographers, and they all wanted to talk to him.
An eager young reporter thrust a microphone at him: “Colonel Knight, how does it feel to have earned a Silver Star, the nation’s third highest medal?”
“You never ‘earn’ a medal, young man, it is awarded to you. A medal awarded for valor isn’t like the prize in a box of Cracker Jack; no sane man ever seeks it. To answer your intended question, I am humbled that I have been deemed eligible for this high honor.” The man looked shocked at the rebuke.
Another reporter asked, “Colonel Knight, now that the war in Europe is over, will you be going to the Pacific?”
Joel smiled, “That’s up to the Army. Once this arm is healed, I’ll go where I’m ordered.”
An older man, with a radio network logo on his microphone asked, “Sir, are you aware that your German opponent, General von Schroeder, passed away at the hospital in Knoxville?”
“Yes, I was told that he had died. I regret he didn’t survive; there was much we would have liked to have learned from him.”
“Isn’t it true that you and he had a long-time grudge against each other?”
“No; I did not hold a grudge against General von Schroeder; it appears that he held a rather strong one against me, however.”
“Colonel, I understand that you shot him down once before, in the ’30s; is that true?”
Joel chuckled, “No, no, I certainly didn’t shoot him down; we engaged in a series of mock dogfights, which I won. He took that outcome rather badly, I’m afraid.”
The man swiveled and turned to Susan, all but pouncing on her, “Mrs. Knight – Dr. Knight, I am told that as a psychologist working for the government, you had determined that von Schroeder was insane and would attack America, and—”
Joel stepped in forcefully, “I’m sorry, my wife has no comment.” The look on his face intimidated the man, and he stepped away. The look on Susan’s face would have curdled milk; her relationship with the government was Top Secret.
A glance around the Rose Garden revealed that both his crewmen were also facing the gauntlet of reporters.
A grizzled reporter stepped up to Joel, “Neil Ferguson, New York Times, sir. We have heard reports that the Russians are quite upset at being left out of the peace accords that ended the war in Europe, and that they are building up forces and may invade Germany from the east. Can you speak to that?”
Joel shrugged, “The Russians made their own peace deal, and weren’t involved in the war the last year or so, so I don’t think they can squawk too much. As to the possibility of an invasion, I simply have no idea. You’re asking the wrong fellow.”
The grilling went on and on, with only an occasional question that had anything to do with shooting down the Gotha.
Most of these questions are just inane, Joel thought, and it was beginning to irritate him. His arm was aching, and he really needed to rest. He looked around for the Press Aide.
Susan beat him to it. She came across the lawn, with the man in tow.
“OK, folks, that’s all for today, thanks for coming,” the man announced, waving his arms in a herding motion.
“Thanks,” Joel told him as the reporters and camera men retreated, “I could sure use a break. That was more tiring than I expected. Some of those guys are just plain rude, you know? A few others are stupid, from their questions.”
“I know only too well, Colonel,” the man said as he escorted them all back into the White House.
EPILOGUE
17 January 1946
Joel and Susan’s Home, Millville, New Jersey
1730 Hours
Epilogue and Beginning
S
usan heard Joel on the porch before he bounded into the house and announced, “Hey Susan, I have two pieces of news, and they’re both great!”
“What?” Susan responded, looking up from the typewriter where she was writing her mother a letter, “Tell me, don’t make me guess!”
“OK! First,” he held up his left arm, “look, I got my cast off. Boy, does it feel good. Look how skinny my arm is!” He pulled up his sleeve to show her.
She clucked and agreed with him, rubbing her hand on his arm, looking at the hollow depression that was all that remained of his wound.
That makes me hurt to look at it, she thought. “Now, what’s the other news?”
He grabbed her shoulders excitedly and looked deep into her eyes, “We’ve got orders, beautiful lady; we’re going to sunny California! I’m going to be wing commander for a brand new night fighter unit at March Field.”
“Where’s that?” she asked, a feeling of dread rising up; all my friends here––
“It’s near a pretty little town called Riverside, northeast of LA. Say, isn’t this great?”
“Oh, it sounds nice,” Susan said without a great deal of conviction. “But what about my work with ––.” She never used the name “OSS” in their house.
His enthusiasm hadn’t abated, “That’s the sweet part, darling! I have it on the very best authority that you’ll continue your work on the West coast. In fact, they want you to start looking at the top players in the Soviet Union!”
“Oh,” she said, “what was it Churchill said about the Russians? That they’re a ‘Riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma?’ They’re such a fascinating people—.”
She saw him sober up; “We’d better hope we don’t have to fight them, ‘cause they’re incredibly tough.”
He brightened again as he told her, “Say, here’s the best part – I’ve forty-five days leave coming, and they’ll give us two weeks to get to California. Since I’m a Colonel, they’ll not only ship our household goods, they’ll ship a car, too. So—I’m thinking, why don’t we let them ship the Packard, and take the train to Wisconsin to see your folks, then to Colorado to see mine? What’d ya think, kiddo?”
“Oh, Joel, that sounds just wonderful! When will we leave? Oh, I just have a mountain of things to do first. I’ve never been out West, you know.”
“I promise, you’ll love it. California is about the prettiest place I’ve been, except Hawaii, and it’s almost always warm, and the sun shines a lot, and the beaches are so much better than here.” He rambled on, but Susan didn’t care. The dread she’d felt at first had given way to growing excitement; this would be their first assignment together. What awaited them in California?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jeff Kildow was born in Iowa and grew up in Colorado Springs, Colorado. He is an Air Force veteran and graduated from Northrop University where he received his engineering diploma from aviation and flying wing pioneer John K. Northrop. He received his MBA from the University of Northern Colorado. He was employed by Martin Marietta/Lockheed Martin for more than thirty years as a Systems Engineer.
A thirty-three-year resident of Littleton, Colorado, he is a lifelong vintage car and aircraft enthusiast. He has an extensive library of books on WWII aircraft, and owns a 1937 Chevrolet.
He has been married to his wife Janell for forty-four years.
Table of Contents
America Under Attack
DEDICATION
Contents
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
TO THE READER
1936
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
1941
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
1942
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
1943
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
1944
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
1945
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
EPILOGUE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR