The Writer's Voice
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Tophet
by
Harold E. Pruett
I am a retired Chief Master Sergeant United States Air Force... the following is a true story of an
incident which occurred during my early training days.
It was dark.
I was alone.
I was in the isolation ward. Why is this happening to me? I wondered. My thoughts turned back to
Sunday morning when I had first felt nauseous. My buddy Jake, has awakened me and asked if I
was going to lunch. I advised him that I didn't feel well. Later, I stumbled out of bed and made an
attempt to shower and shave.
Jake presently returned from lunch. He and I had attended gunnery school together. Now, in early
1944, we each were assigned to a six-man crew of a B-26 medium bomber. We were entering
transition training at Barksdale Field, Shreveport, Louisiana as radio-operator gunners.
I always steered clear of the card games which were a normal occurrence in our barracks each
Sunday afternoon. Today was no exception. Jake sat in as usual. I endeavoured
to read the paper but had difficulty focusing my eyes and my mind.
Jake soon noticed that I was becoming worse. He suddenly bolted upright and stated that I was
breaking out in red splotches. I was very frightened, and rendered no argument when he suggested
that he accompany me to the dispensary.
Upon arrival, it was quickly determined that I had contracted German measles. I was placed in the
isolation ward and the shades were drawn.
It was dark.
I was alone.
On Monday, I felt better when I was visited by my crew members. I felt especially
honoured that all the officers {my pilot, co-pilot and navigator} had taken time from their busy training schedule to
come by the hospital to chat with me. They all wished me a speedy recovery and a swift return to
duty. I felt a keen sense of disappointment that I was not able to immediately continue training
with the crew.
The following afternoon, Jake arrived with a copy of the local paper and a drawn look. He asked
if I had heard the news.
"What news?" I inquired.
He silently handed me the paper pointing to the following headline:
12 BARKSDALE FLYERS KILLED
TWO BOMBERS CRASH AND BURN
AFTER MID-AIR COLLISION
There were no survivors. My entire crew was gone.
It was dark.
I was alone.
the end
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