"Maxine"

"He fought for our country, he's a part of our freedom."
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When they called, they said, "Show up, flags unfurled and we'll do the rest."
That's what we were told at our pre-ride meeting. The town of Wetumka, Ok just wanted us to show. And we did, I counted 60 bikes and at least that many cages.

This man, this young Okie. A co-pilot in a C-47 cargo plane had just made a drop. Much needed, desired, and appreciated supplies to our ground troops in Somewhere, New Guinea. I can see the pilot, banking a bit to give that wing wave to those happy guys scrambling toward the drop. It was a moment that they had to know was possible/probable in those days during WWII. I'm sure those rounds came up from everywhere and SSGT. Glenn Webb helped land that plane.....in history...and into our hearts.

He, as I said, was a Staff Sergeant, had his pilots license for about four months. I stood and listened to a reading of the hand written letter that his mom received from President Roosevelt. SSgt. Webb had turned 20 about 9 months before. Not bad, for a man so young.

The story is that locals went in, the next day and recovered the flight crew and buried them. When they returned, one was missing. Only after several decades had passed did the technology advance to where this man could be found and brought back to his beloved Oklahoma home.

When they asked us just to show up and help welcome him home, we did that. As we rode in, even though we were not in a procession really, just some guys riding into town, they still stopped. We were motioned through the stop signs and made the turns, en masse. No one made any attempt to break our ranks, as has happened on occasion.

This little Oklahoma town, half an hour from the interstate, was wrapping us up. When the procession DID begin, with Patriot Guard, Rolling Thunder and others mixed together, from Oklahoma, Kansas, Arkansas, Missouri, Texas and even Louisiana, well, this is the kicker. That little town, had apparently dismissed school and had obviously bought every little flag available. They were standing by the main road, rows of people from the tiny pre-k crowd up to the high school age with parents and other adults surrounding them, all waving these little American flags, many with hands over hearts. The whole town must have showed up, to show respect for a man who had died before most of them were born.

It was a beautiful sight to behold. Along with the rather large military showing, there was a native American honor guard, always a pleasure to stand with.
This was my ninth mission. They are all the same, but all very different. I couldn't allow myself to miss the homecoming of a man from the greatest generation that had been on the MIA/KIA list for 68 years. And I'm so glad I didn't miss the outpouring of appreciation and respect from the whole town.

As I've stated in the past, I take more from these than I give. And by the way, that C-47 was called "Maxine".