Compassion in a candy bar

                                      Compassion in a candy bar

              My wife Mary and I were fortunate enough to visit the Alpine Countries in Europe a few summers back. All of the story book fables of dark forests, cuckoo clocks and verdant Alpine meadows were as picturesque in real life, as they had been in Grimm’s fairy tales. The magnificent specter of the Alps was awe inspiring. But, like most journeys, it was the people, their history and their gracious hospitality that captivated us.

The vagaries of our journey had positioned us, for several days at the beginning and end of our trip, in the ancient city of Frankfort am Main. The River Main (mine) divides this city of Frankfort, in central Germany. Unlike most older cities in Europe, Frankfurt’s downtown area now glistens with the shining glass of new office towers. The European Central Bank and the German Federal bank are both headquartered here. Locals say with humor that the new name of the city is “Main Hattan.” The reason such glittering splendor now adorn the landscape is that during World War II, over eighty percent of Frankfurt had been leveled, by allied bombers, attempting to destroy the ball bearing factories that kept the Nazi war machine rolling. Little was left from the previous thousand years of its history. Now the city has risen again as a shining, urban Phoenix.

One of my favorite memories from that trip is the discovery of a little-known monument to the kindness and decency of our American Armed Forces, during the Berlin airlift of the late 1940’s. We came across the monument almost by chance. On a bus tour, from Frankfort, of nearby Heidelberg, we passed by a strange apparition. Two aging C-47’s sat alongside the autobahn in a small field. A knowledgeable tour guide explained their significance. This redoubtable aircraft, perhaps one of the more recognizable planes from W.W. II, had been manufactured in the late 1930’s. It was indeed still flying in some far-away places in the world. It was a workhorse of our armed services during the war.

Just outside Frankfort, we came across a touching vignette involving these same bombers that had rained destruction on the city. After WW II, Berlin then lay some seventy miles inside of East Germany, inside the Russian Zone. It was accessible by road and rail with the sufferance of the Soviet Union. In July of 1948, The Russians shut off access to Berlin, to all of the allied powers, hoping to starve the city into submission. For the next fifteen months, of the Berlin Airlift, elements of the U.S. 8th Air Force and its allies flew millions of tons of coal, food and supplies, using converted bombers, into Berlin’s Templehof Airport. The Russians finally relented after fifteen months, opening up access to Berlin. During those weary months, allied planes landed every twenty minutes, disgorged their supplies and took off again in all types of weather. It was a relief effort perhaps unparalleled in modern history.

In the narrow confines of the approach to Berlin’s Templehof Airport, the pilots flew over what was left of some of Berlin’s residential areas. The young children below waved to them, curious at the distraction. One enterprising pilot, Col. Chuck Halverston, started throwing chocolate bars, from the side windows of the C-47’s, to the children below. That was all it took. Thereafter, there was always a crowd of squealing children chasing after the falling candy from the arriving planes. Die Kinder (children) started calling the fliers “Der Candybombers” and “Der chocolate bombers.” One of the young girls wrote a letter to the high command of the U.S. Air force, praising the fliers for their generosity. The letter survived the war in Airforce Archives. Upon its rediscovery, decades later, officials decided to stage a reunion of sorts. Fifty years later, the now aging recipient of the “candy Bombers” met with several of the “Der Chocolate Bombers” at a happy reunion in Berlin. And now, just outside of Frankfurt, there are two C-47’s parked as a memorial to these warm-hearted “Candy Bombers.”

It is a message that perhaps we all might wish to remember. The kindness and compassion of individuals can allay even the most horrific circumstances of war and destruction. It is a message of hope that many can relate to. 

                                                       -30-

                                               (719 words)

                                        Joseph Xavier Martin