"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)