The Adventurer

Adventurer

The mounds of stones looked small;

They clung to the sides of the hills

Close to the mountain’s edge so tall.

They are remnants of life still,

Reminding us of older times

And people who lived there too.

Now they remind us of eons past,

Asking if the civilization will last.

(Judith Parrish Broadbent)

He looked down from the cockpit of the C-46, the large transport plane that he was flying over the foothills and edges of the Himalayas from India to China to take supplies to the troops on the other side. He looked at the colors on the mountains change to pink and purple as the sun slid slowly behind the rim of the tallest mountains in the world. On the foothills he saw the remnants of small stone dwellings left by inhabitants in ages past. They were a testament to the enduring life of the area. He was interested in the history of this area and had done a lot of reading about it when he had a little time. This was hard to find as the mission was in constant movement and the pilots were on shifts so that the flow of supplies was not interrupted.

The world was in turmoil. The conflict had exploded from the encroachment of Germany into the rest of Europe and Hitler’s drive to control the civilized world. Along side this, the Japanese were expanding their empire into Asia and taking over great swaths of China. In 1942, the United States Air Forces’ new Air Transport Command began the most difficult airlift in World War II: flying supplies over the “Hump” in the foothills of the Himalayas. Massive numbers of young men and women signed up to do their part in World War II and some of these who had training in the civilian area in flying had became pilots in the “Army Air Corps” and were chosen to fly this dangerous mission. The C-46’s were large, cumbersome planes that carried fuel, ammunition, parts and other supplies and the terrain they flew was uncharted and hazardous in itself.

Among the young pilots was a young man who had wanted very much to fly and to be a part of the war effort. He had gotten his private pilot’s license when he was a student at Vanderbilt University and nineteen. His friends were eagerly volunteering to make their contributions to the service. Bobby Reich did not meet the age requirement to fly so he took an alias, changed his birth information slightly and volunteered to fly. He had no idea that he would be sent to the exotic area of the war to fly a dangerous mission. He was young and a very imaginative man. Tall and slender, he cut a charming and handsome figure in his army officer’s uniform.

Bobby was the youngest child of Robert William Reich whose family were German immigrants who had settled in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Robert had come south as a Supervisor for the Pitney Bowers Company and had been a passenger on the first commercial flight from Nashville. No doubt this love of flying ran in the blood. Robert Reich had died earlier in Memphis and his family had moved to Nashville. Bobby had attended the Baylor School in Chattanooga and then returned to Nashville where he learned to fly private planes with friends at a small airfield while he started college at Vanderbilt. Bobby’s older sister was well educated and worked for the State Education Department. His mother, Miriam Eason Reich and his grandmother, Zora Eason, had a home on the outskirts of Nashville where they all lived and did their activities at work and university.

Bobby could not tell his mother and grandmother of his falsehood and kept the mission that he flew secret for quite some time. He brought them presents from India when he returned, little ivory carvings of elephants and a Buddha. There were other souvenirs and stories about the awesome mountains and adventures. He told them stories of the mountains with their rocky crags and deep snows where only a handful of birds dared challenge the winds and cold to soar above the heights to the other side. He described the brilliant light from sunrises and sunsets that set the mountaintops to flame. A wonderful picture of him in the cockpit of the airplane in his bomber jacket, pilot’s cap at an angle, aviator’s glasses and crocked smile revealed his happiness and satisfaction with his assignment. His twinkling blue eyes spoke of mischief. He loved telling stories to his niece with laughter in his voice. He always said they shared a crocked smile with straight teeth as he laughed his warm and including laugh. He loved a challenge and the adventure that it gave to his life.

Bobby had a special attachment to his sister’s oldest child. Had she not been so young, he would have written wonderful descriptions of the country and people he had seen. When he returned after the war, he used his skills to become a commercial airline pilot. After moving to Texas, he flew with Pioneer and Continental Airlines. Years later, when his niece was 19, he wrote to her describing the mountains in New Mexico over which he flew on trips. He told of the mountains’ colors turning to pink and purple as the sun touched them in its descent behind their snow covered crags. Looking down on these from the cockpit of a 737, he saw the remnants of another ancient civilization preserved in the stone habitations carved into the edge of the mountain’s face. The rare and stark beauty of these mountains must have reminded him of the Himalayans over which he had flown as a young man on an adventure to help save the world.