"It's All Because Of Two Sticks Of Gum"

Like many great events in history, it started simply -- two sticks of gum given to some children who were living in a bombed and besieged city.

That act of kindness eventually led to a prominent place in the history books for retired Col. Gail S. Halvorsen, who at the time of the gift was a first lieutenant flying C-54s filled with the supplies needed to keep the blockaded city of West Berlin alive and functioning.

While hundreds of pilots and aircraft from various countries were eventually part of the Berlin Airlift, Colonel Halvorsen, who became known as the "Candy Bomber," is still the most recognized individual to come out of that landmark operation.

Colonel Halvorsen visited Pope Air Force Base Feb. 23 and 24 to speak with the Airlift Tanker Association. He shared his experiences with first term airman’s center and airman leadership school students. He also took time to visit children in Pope’s school age children program, where he read "Mercedes and the Chocolate Pilot," a children’s book written from the perspective of a little girl living in Berlin during the airlift.

He showed each child how to make a parachute attached to a chocolate bar, much like those he dropped from his aircraft almost 60 years ago.

Colonel Halvorsen started flying supply missions into Berlin in 1948, just two weeks after the start of the operation. The Soviet Union, under Joseph Stalin’s rule, had blockaded the city since it was located in East Germany, which had come under Soviet control after World War II. The only way to get the supplies needed to keep the city running and its inhabitants from starving was to fly them in.

While he could see the rubble of the bombed-out city from the air during their approach to Tempelhof Airport, Colonel Halvorsen and other flight crews were not allowed to leave their aircraft during the unloading process so they could depart as soon as the process was complete.

He always wanted to see the city, and finally got a chance when, after returning from a mission, he spotted a friend’s aircraft getting ready to make a trip from Rhein-Main Air Base, Germany, into Berlin.

"I had my movie camera with me and I figured I could fly in with Bill and not be tied to the aircraft," he said. "My uniform was my ticket to get back on an aircraft and I had a buddy in Berlin with a jeep."

It was during that trip that he met a group of children who would congregate around the airport’s fence line, watching the aircraft land. What impressed him the most, he said, was the way the children appreciated what they had and didn’t beg for handouts like he had seen in other countries after the war.

"They were just grateful that we were bringing in the supplies," he said. "They had been through Hitler and were going through Stalin. After a while, I realized I had talked to these kids for an hour and they hadn’t asked for anything. I found out there hadn’t been any candy in months (because of shortages caused by the war and the Russian blockade)."

Unfortunately he only had two sticks of gum with him, but he gave those to the group of children, half expecting them to fight over the rare treat. Instead, the children split the sticks as far as they could go, and those who didn’t get any of the gum were given small strips torn from the foil wrappers so they could at least smell the sweets.

The unselfishness of the children impressed the young pilot so much that he made a decision that could have gotten him court-martialed for breaking flying regulations. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get back to the fence line because of the flying schedule, so he told the children to watch for his aircraft. He told them he would wiggle his wings on approach to the airport so they could recognize him and that he would drop candy to them from the aircraft.

When he returned to his quarters at Rhein-Main, the lieutenant asked some of his fellow pilots for their rations so he could get them to the children. They warned him of the consequences of throwing anything like that from an aircraft in flight without permission, but he would not be swayed.

Attaching parachutes made from handkerchiefs and string to each chocolate bar, he kept his promise to the children on his next mission and again each time he flew for about three weeks.

That was when he found a message waiting for him upon his return to Rhein-Main from a flight into Berlin. He was to report to the colonel’s office right away.

The colonel chewed out the young lieutenant for 15 minutes until he felt like a court-martial was imminent. The colonel then produced a German newspaper from his desk with a story of Uncle Wiggly Wings, which was one of the names the children of West Berlin had given him.

"It turns out that the general had seen the article before the colonel," he said. "He called the colonel into his office asking which of his pilots had been dropping parachutes into Berlin and the colonel said none of us were. The general then told him, ‘You’d better wake up, colonel, because one of your pilots is dropping parachutes.’ I think the colonel was more upset that the general found out before he did than he was at what I did."

The German article led to worldwide publicity for the Candy Bomber, as he was being called by then. Donations of candy and handkerchiefs from manufacturers and individuals were used to make even more sweets chutes. Eventually, service clubs were making the parachutes and attaching candy for all of the aircraft to drop throughout the city.

The Berlin Airlift is today remembered as a remarkable accomplishment of man and machine in the face of adversity. Over the 15 months the airlift operated, more than 2.3 million tons of critically-needed supplies were flown into the besieged city, including 12,900 tons on April 16, 1948, highest one-day tonnage of the operation.

American aircraft also dropped more than 23 tons of candy to the children of West Berlin during Operation Little Vittles, as the Candy Bomber operation eventually was called. Colonel Halvorsen went on to win the Cheney Award in 1948 for "...an act of valor, extreme fortitude or self-sacrifice in a humanitarian interest."

One message Colonel Halvorsen had for children at the school age program was that they should do things for others because it’s the right thing to do, not because of any rewards that might come out of it.

"It’s called service before self," 85-year-old Colonel Halvorsen told the assembled children. "Look at me. I’m here at Pope today all because of two sticks of gum. I’ve had a lot of great things happen and met a lot of people, but really it’s all because of two sticks of gum."

(Aero-News salutes Ed Drohan, 43rd Airlift Wing Public Affairs)

FMI: www.af.mil