The Friendship Of Two Pilots From Different Backgrounds Results In One Of The Most Remarkable Acts Of Courage During The Korean War.
Now That Should Be A Movie.
It is called Devotion
It’s a War Drama
The tone is like 42
It is basically Top Gun meets Remember the Titians.
It follows strong-willed and mentally tough son of Mississippi sharecroppers Jesse L Brown
And the rule following son of a rich northern businessman Tom Hudner
As they pursue careers in the aviation wing of the US Navy during the Cold War, which includes Jesse making history by breaking color-barriers in aviation
Problems occur when Jesse experiences racism and both he and Tom are deployed to fight in the Korean War.
Now Jesse’s desire to return to his wife and Tom’s rule following nature are tested as they provide air cover for their fellow Americans on the ground fighting off hoards of Communist Chinese.
The idea came to me when listening to an audiobook addition of A Christmas Far from Home: An Epic Tale of Courage and Survival During the Korean War by Stanley Weintraub.
My unique approach when be the odd couple friendship of Jesse and Tom juxtaposed against the geo-political atmosphere of the Cold and Korean wars.
A set piece would be a black Marine and a white Marine on the ground in Korea trying to guess which pilots are bachelors and which are married. By their way of thinking, the lower and more daring a pilot was in providing air support for them, it was more likely they were a bachelor. When the black grunt said he had seen a black face looking at him out of the cockpit of one of the bachelor planes, the white leatherneck said he didn’t know there were any black pilots. “I guess there are now,” said the black American. Little did they know that that “bachelor” was Jesse who had a wife and child waiting for him back home in Mississippi.
I think the movie would appeal to military buffs, history nerds, the families of navel and aviation personal and war and action movie fans. I think teenage boys, men (18-65) and women (30-75) would be the target audience.
Audiences would turnout for the film because it has the universal teams of friendship, championing over racial barriers, the excitement of aviation daring, courage in the face of adversity and sacrifice.
Today’s book I would like to pitch as a movie is Devotion: An Epic Story of Heroism, Friendship, and Sacrifice by Adam Makos, from Ballantine Books.
[Note: There is already movie in production directed by J.D. Dillard and staring Glen Powell as Tom and Jonathan Majors as Jesse, but the story is so remarkable that I decided to still write a post.]
Tom Hudner was born in Fall River, Massachusetts, the son of the owner of a successful grocery store chain. In a household that could afford an Irish maid, he grew up an All American boy, that included membership in the Boy Scouts and boating outings at the country club. Jesse Brown was born in Lux, Mississippi, the son of sharecroppers. He would spend most of his time working in the cotton fields. Whenever he and his brothers went swimming to cool off, they would have to make as much noise as possible to scare snakes out of the pond.
At an early age, both learned how to stand up for themselves and others. Tom stood up against playground bullies, Portuguese immigrants, who had been tossing around the glasses of a smaller boy. This was against Tom’s rule following nature. However, when the fight was scheduled to begin, the Portuguese boy stuck out his hand to declare a truce. The lesson Tom drew from this was that a man reveals his character through his actions, not his skin color. Jesse’s bullies were the white kids on a school bus who would lean out the window to spit on and yell racial epithets at him and his siblings as it drove passed. One day Jesses picked up a dried cornstalk. When the bus drove passed, he held up the stalk and whacked the faces of the white kids as they leaned out the window. All the faces disappeared with cries back into the bus. Jesse’s actions were both brave and foolhardy in the Jim Crow South, but fortunately for him the school bus driver was an understanding soul. He promised him that the spitting and epithets would stop and reserved his wrath for the children on the bus. Jesse was feeling proud of himself until his mother, who was hoping he would go to college, found out about his reaction to the racial epithets.
“When someone calls you a ‘nigger,’ then you feel sorry for him,” she said. “You have to pity him because his mind has a such sorry way of expressing itself.”
For the next few years, Jesse would stand in front of a mirror and yell insults at his reflection. He would practice remaining calm as though the words had no effect on him. He knew that he would have been be tough where he was planning to go in life.
From an early age, Jesse was determined to be a pilot. One day while he was working in the fields, the son of a rich landowner buzzed Jesse and the other field hands. Most of the hands ran for the trees or threw themselves on the ground, but not Jesse. He stood erect as the plane flew toward him. When the pilot finally pulled up, the plane was so low Jesse reached out and almost touched the wheels. Instead of being frightened, he was excited for seeing a BT-9 in person for the first time. His friends called him crazy for not running since the plane could have killed him, but he just replied that one day he would be a pilot. Again, they called him crazy. “Child throw that idea straight of your mind! If Negroes can’t ride in aeroplanes, they sure ain’t gonna be flying one.”
But he persisted, graduating as salutatorian from the segregated Eureka High School in Hattiesburg in 1944. He then followed in the footsteps of his inspiration Jesse Owens by attending Ohio State University, where he majored in architectural engineering. He paid his way through college by working various jobs, including as waiter at the Holmes Club, serving white soldiers stationed at Camp Shelby. On his last night there, the owner passed the hat around to raise for scholarship for him. The soldiers filled the hat with $700. Attending Ohio U opened the opportunity to join the Aviation Cadet Training Program offered by the Navy. He enlisted in the Naval Reserve in 1946. A year later he started Naval Flight Officer training at Glenview Naval Air Station in Glenview, Illinois. After finishing training at Ottumwa Naval Air Station in Ottumwa, Iowa, he was transferred to Pensacola Naval Air Station in Pensacola, Florida, for flight training. On 21 October 1948 he received his Naval Aviator Badge, a highly publicized event covered by the Associate Press and Life Magazine because he had just broken the “color barrier.” When asked how he was able to complete the training despite facing prejudice from some instructors and cadets, Jesse credited Lieutenant Roland Christensen. The lieutenant had volunteered to train him after other instructors had refused. As a farm boy from Nebraska, he shared a comradery with Jesse, a farm boy from Mississippi. He saw Jesse not as a black man, but as a man. The only thing he had to prove to Christensen was that he had what it took to be a pilot.
His next assignment was Quonset Point Naval Air Station in Quonset, Rhode Island. It was there that he and Tom would meet. Their commander, Lieutenant Dick Cevoli, wanted to make sure Tom was alright with Jesse being flight leader because, despite Tom holding higher rank, Jesse had more flight hours logged. He also hoped that Tom having attended the Naval Academy in Annapolis would not be a source of conflict between the two pilots due to its reputation of racism and black cadets being hazed out. Tom, remembering his encounter with the Portuguese bully, said everything was alright. However, the first meeting between the pilots was a bit awkward, especially after Jesse saw Tom’s Annapolis ring.
Tom learned to trust Jesse on their first flight. He was flying in the wingman position when Jesse took them in the wrong direction. Jesse’s only explanation before takeoff was that he was going to take quick detour. Tom followed him as they flew so low, they roared passed a lighthouse and almost touched the top of trees. Following Jesse’s lead, he could see that he was aiming for a house in a suburban neighborhood. After buzzing the house, Jesse climbed back into the sky until the formation had broken cloud cover. “Just saying hi to my girls!,” he said over the radio. Indeed, Jesse’s wife Daisy and young daughter Pam were waiting in the yard. When the tree branches rattle, Daisy point to the airplanes and said, “There goes your daddy.” After leveling out, Jesse asked Tom if there was anyone he wanted to buzz. Tom thought about buzzing his father’s golf club, but his desire to follow rules was stronger. After the flight, Jesse asked Tom if he had a wife or girlfriend. Tom replied that he was strictly business, focusing on his career. Jesse then apologized for starting off on the wrong foot. “In flight school I stuck my head out a lot of times but the other guy kept his at his side,” Jesse replied. Tom replied sympathetically, “Well, you don’t have to worry about that with me.”
Tom would be there on April 4, 1950 when Jesse and the rest of Fighting 32 completed their pilot landing certifications in the new Corsairs. To qualify, a pilot had to land six times on a carrier. When Jesse’s sixth landing came up, everyone on the ship, including dozens of black sailors, came out to watch. It was like watching Jackie Robinson play baseball, although nobody ever died trying to steal a base. To an untrained eye, Jesse appeared to be doing fine, but Tom knew he something was off. Jesse’s plane was shaking, and the wing was tilting, and by the time he corrected, it was too late to cut the throttle. By the time he did, he was flying down the deck, white puffs appearing when his tires struck the carrier surface. The cables, that were supposed to stop the plane, snapped. Instead of rolling into the crash barriers, Jesse pounded on full power, leaping over the first, then the second. The final barrier was the parked Corsairs at the end of the carrier. Jesse leaped over them too. Then a wire clipped the plane’s tire. The craft spun out of control to the right and disappeared over the carrier’s edge. Deckhands rushed to the side and looked down into the water. No plane was in sight. Then they looked up at the horizon and saw a dark blue plane skimming the waves. They let up a cheer as Jesse came back around and completed his sixth landing. One of his fellow crew members remarked, “They say there are two kinds of aviators in the navy: Those who have hit the barrier and those who will someday hit it. But I think there’s a third – Jesse Brown. He sees a barrier, he jumps it!” However, despite all the excitement, Jesse confided in a friend that he felt the Corsair would kill him someday.
On May 2, 1950, Fighting 32 was deployed aboard the carrier USS Leyte as part of the Dancing Fleet to the Mediterranean. Even though Jesse assured Daisy the only danger he would face was a sunburn, tensions were high between the United States and The Soviet Union. Things had grown tense at the end of World War II when Soviet planes buzzed or attacked American aircraft, including fighters attacking a B-29 airdropping food to POWs in Korea. During the Berlin Airlift, in which the US Air Force broke Stalin’s blockade of the western half of the German capitol through the delivery of 394,509 tons of food and other supplies, a feat that deserves its own movie, 773 incidents of soviet aggression were documented. The development of an atomic bomb by the Reds did not help the situation. A new title was being given to the standoff, Cold War. Although it was officially cold, Daisy had read about an American Privateer reconnaissance plane disappearing over the Baltic Sea. Now newspapers were reporting that northern Europeans were finding pieces of the plane, pieces riddled with bullet holes.
The Dancing Fleet played a major role in this undeclared war. While the Soviets outnumbered the Americans in troop and aircraft numbers, the US had the upper hand with carriers. The Leyte was on the front lines in the Mediterranean. The Soviets wanted a port in that sea so in case World War III broke out, they could cripple the West by denying it access to the oil deposits of the Middle East. The 6th Fleet was permanently stationed in the Mediterranean as part of the plans of NATO, formed a year before, to recruit Greece and Turkey into their fold before Soviet-backed insurgents could topple their governments, giving the Ren Menace access to ports.
However, the Soviet blitzkrieg that military analysts believed would storm over western Europe did not occur while The Leyte was stationed in the Mediterranean. Instead, when crew members began announcing that World War III had begun, it was in the Far East: Korea. On June 25, 1950, the Soviet trained and backed Korean People’s Army had rushed across the 38th Parrel into the Republic of South Korea. While the Dancing Fleet was not needed there, it was ordered to stay on Code 3: Be Ready On A Moment’s Notice. Rumors were spread that Soviet secret agents were aboard. When oil appeared in every one of the aircrafts’ engines, sabotage was suspected.
Despite these tensions, the crew enjoyed their stay in the Mediterranean. During an outing to Cannes, they met Elizabeth Taylor, who took several tours of the Leyte. She treated everyone, including Jesse, with respect. Jesse did not face prejudice on the Leyte either. Even though the captain, T. U. Sission, was the scion of a southern aristocratic family and son of a champion of segregation, he called Jesse one of his best pilots. Jesse would later tell a reporter that there had not been one instance of prejudice on the carrier. Although there was an awkward moment when a crewmate encouraged everyone to “hurry up so we can lie in the sun and get as black as…” Everyone looked as Jesse turned around from his bunk. He just smiled and told them to go ahead. “Besides, I’ve got a head start on my color!” While on shore leave Jesse bought so much perfume to send Daisy that a store in Hattiesburg offered to resale it for her. She kept them all and still had a bottle seventy years later. Jessie sent and received so much mail from Daisy that his crewmates joked he deserved his own zip code. One thing that took a while for Jesse to write Daisy was that one of the pilots had been killed during a training exercise. “If I’ve learned anything, corpsman and World War II veteran Halley Bishop, told him. “It’s that death’s gonna get us all, but we’ve got some say in how we go. You die flying a Corsair, well, that says enough.”
But the cruise came to an end in early August when the Leyte received orders to deploy to Korea. Before their deployment to the Far East, the pilots spent some time stateside. Tom returned to Fall River. During this stay, Mrs. Hudner showed Tom a letter from Harvard, looking forward to his enrollment in the fall. Tom had pre-registered to attend Harvard University in 1943. Everyone expected him to follow in his father’s footsteps, so they were all surprised when he contacted his congressman to secure an appointment to the Naval Academy. Tom handed the letter back to her, and said, “Don’t worry, Mother, they’ll stop sending them sooner or later.” When the senior Hudnar asked if he had thought about transferring out of his combat role, Tom replied he had not. The other pilots were not backing out since they believed that if they did not take a stand in Korea, the next war would be for America’s survival. “I’m proud of you, son,” Senior replied.
Jesse spent his time in Hattiesburg, where he had moved Daisy and Pam. He took friends and family, including the same farm hands who said he would never fly, for a ride in a Cesena. Two boys he took flying would later become military pilots, one rising to the rank of colonel. He also took time to explain to Daisy that he had mapped out survivors’ benefits, Social Security, and a private insurance for her in case he did not return. If he did not come back, he wanted her to have enough to go to college, even if only part time, so she could get a degree and not have to work in someone else’s kitchen. “That way you’d be able to take care of yourself if you can’t find another man in five years!” When he left to rejoin his squadron, one friend broke down crying, saying he felt like he had lost his best friend. Daisy told him not to fret. “Jessie flies with some fine fellows, the best our country has.”
Indeed, they were. On their last night in America, they were at a hotel bar in California. While “Whites Only” signs were virtually nonexistent in the Golden State, discrimination by stores and restaurants was common. One of their officers, Dick “Dad” Flower, was a World War II pilot who had been raised in Texas by a father who taught him that, “the color of a man’s skin makes no more difference than the color of his eyes.” When the waiter failed to take Jesse’s order, Dad called him back to the table. The waiter leaned down and whispered in his ear that they “did not serve negros.” Dad replied that the waiter was going to serve Jesse or he wasn’t going to serve any of them. Jesse stood up to leave, saying there was no need for trouble. Again, the waiter said he would happily serve the rest of the airmen. Dad stood up so fast his chair almost fell over. “We’re outta here! Let’s go, boys. Up, up, up!” He then addressed the rest of patrons. “Tomorrow, that young man is going to fight the Reds. And these people won’t even serve him a drink!” As Dad, Jesse, Tom and the rest of the airmen left, someone muttered that they regretted wearing the United States uniform, because it kept them from going back there and beating up the waiter.
The pilots arrived in Japan in early October. During their stop they would meet the helicopter pilots who would be sent to rescue them in the event of a crash. One, First Lieutenant Charlie Ward, was from Troy, Alabama. A jovial feller, he and Jesse were able to exchange quips in a vernacular that the other pilots could not understand. He told the other pilots that if they crashed, they better do so at sea level. If they crashed in the mountains, he was not coming for them, to which the pilots laughed. Before taking off, he told Jessie, “Take it easy, Mississippi.” Jesse replied, “Be safe, Alabama.”
At this point in the conflict, The North Korean army was falling back beyond the 38th parrel. The pilots of Fighting 32 went after their supply trains and trucks. One difficult task was taking out an artillery piece that the communists would roll out a cave, fire and then roll back into the protection of the mountain. Jesse took the piece out. After each mission, the pilots would attend debriefings where footage captured by cameras attached to the planes would be reviewed.
Life continued as normal on the Leyte. Jesse spent his spare time writing Daisy and drawing up plans for their dream house. During one supper, he noticed that the African-American stewards, whom he always greeted, were tense and tightlipped. He remembered how the stewards at Pensacola had viewed him as an upstart trying to break into a white man’s club. They had pulled away servers before he was done ladling out food. He wondered what he had done now. Instead of being mad at him, the stewards had been restraining their excitement. It was Jesse’s birthday and they surprised him with both a cake and a Rolex watch. The petty officer said, “Thank you for lifting us up. Now, on this ship, when a black man passes you in the hallway, you never know, he might just be a cook – or he might be a flyer.”
Many believed that the war would be over by Christmas. During shore leave in Japan, Jesse looked at jewelry he was considering buying for Daisy, having heard rumors that the Leyte would soon be making a beeline for home. But the leave was broken up by Shore Patrol officer, ordering all the servicemen back to their ship. Something big had happened in Korea: The Chinese had entered the war.
Despite many believing this was the opening battle of World War III, the pilots were still bound by the rules of limited engagement. During missions to destroy bridges across the Yalu, the border between North Korea and the People’s Republic of China, the pilots could not violate Chinese airspace even though the North Korean People’s Army had moved their anti-aircraft guns to the west side of the river. Jesse’s fellow pilots noticed that he had grown more cautious, as though he wanted to get the job done perfectly so he could return home. Indeed, it took considerable skill and courage for him and Corsair and Skyraider pilots to dive through anti-aircraft fire, shockwaves and tracers to take out their targets. They also had to be careful not to hit the schools that the communists used as human shields. Many pilots looked back to make sure they had not hit any children and could see young faces looking up at them. They also had to worry about Soviet MiGs, which would only engage them near the border so in case one was shot down, there would be less chance of the Russian pilots being captured.
A portrayal of the Corsairs diving after bridges and zipping through and around the mountains of North Korea would make some exciting movie scenes, on par with anything the superhero and sci-fi genres have to offer. Their skill and bravery deserve to be shown on the big screen, not because they were killing the enemy, but because they were saving their fellow Americans. As the Chinese surrounded the Marines at the Chosin Reservoir, the Corsairs made an aerial umbrella, covering the leathernecks’ withdraw, particularly to the base at Hagaru-ri. The base was besieged by at least a thousand Chinese, who would attack in the dark in human waves. Every morning, the first thing the pilots wanted to know was, “Did our boys survive the night?”
Fighting 32 was dropping a new weapon: napalm. This incendiary mixture of a gelling agent and gasoline turned a nasty war into a much uglier affair. It was reported that helicopter pilots around the Chosin were dressing in Marine uniforms so in case of capture they would not be mistaken as pilots by vengeful Reds. The effects of napalm were especially troubling to Jesse, who could not get the image of a burning Chinese soldier out of his head. When he confessed this to Cevoli, he was told to focus on the men he was saving.
That was on Jesse’s mind when a Life Magazine photographer came aboard to capture some images. Jesse always told the press that he was nothing special, just another pilot. In the photographs, it is obvious that he could not relax, his tense eyes looking off into the distance as he thought about the trapped Americans who need help.
The pilots’ missions were not about killing the enemy, but about saving their fellow Americans on the ground, some of whom they knew. Some of the Marines had been stationed on the Leyte, where they played baseball on the deck. Jesse had shared a bottle with them in Cannes and Tom had given them a tour of a Corsair. The pilots had seen the leathernecks inventoried their rifles and other equipment on the deck before deployment. Then they had watched as the grunts took letters, pin up magazines, and other memorabilia they did not want sent home to momma in case of their death and threw them into the wake of the carrier. The Marines on the ground played a game of guessing which pilots were married and which were bachelors. The more daring the pilot was, skirting treetops or pulling up at the last second, the more likely he was not married. However, the leathernecks were not always 100% accurate, as one bachelor they reported seeing smiling and waving at them had a black face underneath a white helmet.
“[As] the Corsair blurred past[, a] black Marine wheeled in place and watched the plane race down the road.
“The black Marine turned to one of his white buddies, who was still grinning and shaking his head in wonder.
“’You saw him too?’ the black Marine asked.
“’See who?’
“’That Negro pilot!’
“’Really?’ the white Marine replied. ‘I didn’t know we had Negro pilots.’
“’I guess we do now.’ The black Marine smiled.”
The pilots would get to experience the conditions faced by the grunts when a stormed forced them to land at Wonsan. Unable to reach the Leyte due to a blizzard, the pilots shared supper with the Marines. When one pilot mentioned how good the food was, a leatherneck replied that the kitchen was trying to use up all its supplies so they would not fall into the hands of the enemy in the event the position was overrun. When the weather let up, the pilots promised they would be back to help fight the Reds.
Fighting 32 had lost two pilots so far. One, Roland Batson, had belly landed in a North Korean corn field. Even though the pilots had seen Batson waving at them, they could not coordinate a rescue attempt or tell him it was too late in the day for a helicopter. Some days later search planes saw flashes from a signal mirror and a helicopter was called in. However, by the time the chopper arrived, the flashing had stopped. Baston was never found. Some of the pilots grumbled about his loss as well as the fact that Cevoli had not recommended anyone for medals. During a briefing, Tom, who was not one for medals, reviewed the procedure regarding downed pilots
Pilot has been seen: Fly low over pilot, rocking wings.
Proceed in direction indicted: Drop wheels and fly in direction in which pilot should move.
Use the right hand orbit to indicate that a rescue will be attempted…a left hand orbit to indicate that no rescue attempt is possible
When a pilot asked if another pilot could land and pick up a downed pilot, the skipper, whose brother had gone missing while flying during World War II, said that if they saw one…
“Even if he’s waving up from a field of clover – you leave him there! It’s bad enough to lose one pilot. We can’t lose two. And if any of you try to land and pick someone up, I’ll court-martial your ass.” Tom had heard the skipper’s warning and so had Jesse: A downed pilot was to be left where he was.
On December 4th, Tom and Jesse would fly together as part of Iroquois Flight 13. Before taking off, the crew came out to show their support. The World War II Era V for Victory sign reappeared as the crew raised their fingers for the pilots to see. Later, the pilots were flying around Hagaru-ri. They could see long lines of vehicles and troops streaming down the mountain roads into the base. The beleaguered Marines had been relieved by a task force of leatherbacks, soldiers and British Commandos. (see why Give Me Tomorrow by Patrick K. O’Donnell, which is about one company, George, that took part in the relief operation, should be a Band of Brothers-like miniseries). The long green lines in the snowy terrain represented hope.
After waving to the tired face and mostly teenage faces of the Marines, who smiled and waved back, the pilots took off to see if any enemy was lurking nearby. If they saw footprints, they would fly low to see if they led to the enemy. As the Corsairs flew through a valley, White Jackets, the nickname given to the communist Chinese due to their uniforms, lurked in hiding. They watched as shadows passed over, then rose and fired up into the sky before disappearing back into the snow.
As the pilots climbed higher, one, William Koenig, radioed Jesse that he was bleeding fuel. Tom saw a white vapor trailing from Jesse’s belly and confirmed he had a streamer. After checking his gauged, Jesse announced to his crewmates he was leaking oil. When asked if he could make it south, Jesse replied, “Nope, my engine’s seizing up. I’m going down.”
He was going down seventeen miles northwest of Hagaru-ri, deep in enemy territory. Tom continued to maintain contact with Jesse, walking them through an emergency landing, which included dumping the napalm and salvo rockets as well as the plane’s tank belly and fuel to avoid a fiery crash. When Jesse saw a field, Tom alerted him to trees and boulders. Nearby was a smooth slope that was better. As Jesse dropped toward the snowy surface, Tom, astonished at how calm he was remaining, stayed on the radio, counting down the feet. “120! 110! …100!” He did this so Jesse’s attention would remain on his landing spot. “Hold it steady – fifty feet – here you go!” The twelve-thousand-pound craft dropped the final twenty-five feet to earth and then skidded to a stop as parts were ripped away.
Tom circled the crash site, trying to get Jesse on the intercom. He watched the canopy, hoping to see Jesse’s hands pulling it back. Finally, the canopy opened and Jesse wave to the other pilots. However, he did not leave the wreck. “He’s got to be hurt,” one of the other pilots suggested. Cevoli announced he was going to a higher height to get a better transmission over which he could call for a rescue helicopter. Before he left, he ordered the pilots, that once Jesse got clear of the wreckage, they were to destroy the plane. The rule was to never leave an intact plane with American technology in enemy territory.
By the time Cevoli announced the news that a helicopter was about twenty minutes way, smoke had begun floating from the Corsair’s nose. The pilots hollered over the radio for Jesse to get out, but there was no reply. Tom found himself praying that Jesse would not burn to death. The smoke created another danger by alerting the Chinese to a down aircraft. They were probably heading toward Jesse that very moment. Tom decided there was one last option.
“The Tom Hudner who’s reported to Fighting 32 in December 1949 would have kept orbiting. From above, he’d have watched Jesse burn and told himself that there was nothing he could do. A downed pilot was to be left alone – the skipper had said so. It was his rule and he’d court-martial any man who broke it. It was probably the navy’s rule too, written in some manual. But this was not 1949…‘I’m goin in,’ Tom radioed….[He] dipped his left wing and swooped down toward the pasture. It was time to break the rules.”
Tom carried out his carrier-style landing fifty yards away. Jesse probably heard the plane coming in for a crash landing and felt the impact of the landing. “Of all the guys, it would be Tom,” Koenig said was he watched from above. Jesse may even had known that it was going to be Tom, lipping from an injury sustained in the landing, and with a pistol in his hand, who would appear at his side on the wind-swept mountain side. “I am pinned,” he told him. Tom assured him not to worry, there was a helicopter on the way. Tom looked to see what was pinning Jesse and found that when the fuselage buckled, Jesse’s knees were crushed against the part of the instrument panel that ran between his legs. He also saw that Jesse had discarded his helmet and gloves when he tried to get free, depriving him of communication with his fellow pilots. While Tom tugged, Jesse pushed upward, but the metal held him down.
Realizing that Jesse was immovable, Tom decided the only thing to do was fight time. He used his hands to shovel snow into the engine to smooth the small fire that burned from residual oil. Seeing that Jesse’s hands were frozen, he took off his own scarf, tore it in half and wrapped the fabric around his comrade’s hands. Without an ax, there was nothing else that he could do, so he went back to his cockpit to communicate the need to Cevoli.
After the helicopter turned back to get an ax as well as fire extinguisher, word was sent out to see if any planes in the area anything had they could drop off. Fighting 32 kept circling clockwise. When one pilot spotted Chinese heading toward the crash site, a call was sent out for all available aircraft to engage the enemy in the vicinity. Tom set with Jesse as they watched planes from a Marine squadron called the Devil Cats fly through the valley, sporadic fire illuminating their engagements with the enemy. But time was slipping away fast.
With their fuel running low, the Fighting 32 had to turn back for the Leyte. As they circled the crash site, each pilot wagged his wings, signifying “Good Luck, Goodbye.” Jesse raised his feeble hands to wave. The last pilot kept wagging his wings as long as he could. “They’re still waving,” Tom said. He then looked over to Jesse, whose chin was on his chest. His eyes were closed and his chest barely rose and fell.
With the planes leaving due to the approaching darkness, Tom debated whether he should shoot Jesse and himself to keep from falling into the hands of vengeful Chinese soldiers. Then Jesse’s voice broke the stillness. He looked up at Tom and with a shallow breath said, “Just tell Daisy how much I love her.” Tom begged him to hang in there while the helicopter arrived. As soon as the copter landed, Tom rushed to greet the pilot. It was the Alabamian, Charlie Ward, immediately recognized that it was Jesse Brown. Tom grabbed the ax and ran back to the wreckage. When he arrived, Jesse looked unconscious, his breath no longer puffing. With all the strength he could, he swung the ax against the side of the plane, trying to leverage the instrument panel off Jesse’s legs. But despite his best efforts, the ax barely made a dent in the metal. “Hey, Mississippian, you hang in there, okay,” Ward said to Jesse. Jesse who did not respond. Tom swung the ax again and again, but still no result. Pacing the snow in circles, he declared that they would need a blow torch. Ward then spoke up. “I don’t want to admit it, but I think he’s gone.” Without any night flying instruments, the Alabamian would have to fly the helicopter out before darkness fell. He gave Tom the choice to stay or go, but reminded him that if he stayed, he would freeze to death. If Jesse had been mumbling or breathing, Tom would have stayed. He reluctantly boarded the helicopter, but as long as he could, he looked out the window at his friend until the wreckage was out of sight.
Three days later, Tom was back on the Leyte, He was told that Captain Sisson wanted to see him. Tom expected to receive a dressing down. Instead, the captain praised the rescue attempt, saying there had been “no finer act of unselfish heroism in military history.” After briefing Tom that a recon mission had proven Jesse was dead – his body had been stripped of his jacket and gear – Captain Sisson asked him if he thought a recovery mission was possible. Tom believed it would only result in more men being killed. “I know Jesse wouldn’t want that,” he added. A funeral flight was arranged, one airplane dropping napalm on the wreckage and Jesse’s remains while another pilot recited the Lord’s Prayer. Captain Sisson announced Jesse’s death to the whole crew, adding that “the country needed Jesse Brown.” It was hard for Tom to face the rest of the squadron, knowing he had not brought Jesse back. However, they all applauded him, saying his action was one of the greatest they had ever seen. Even World War II veterans like Cevoli said they had ever seen anything finer. The crew of the Leyte took up a collection to create a scholarship for Jesse’s daughter Pam, something uncommon, but that was how the men felt about him. Even Captain Sisson donated forty dollars, which is about four hundred in today’s currency. In all, $2,700 ($24,000) was raised.
When his deployment ended, Tom returned to Fall River. In March of 1951, he received a call from the White House naval liaison informing him that he had been approved for the Medal of Honor, the first one of the Korean War. The thought had never crossed Tom’s mind and he wondered what Daisy would think about him receiving a medal while Jesse had died. But the reward ceremony was cathartic for Daisy. Meeting the president and seeing all the cameramen and news reporters helped her come to grasp with what an impact her husband had on the world. Then Tom took her to the side, he explained the calming presence Jesse had on him as he tried to free him. He relayed Jesse’s final words to her. This was a surprise to Daisy, who had read in the papers that Jesse had been killed in the crash. Now she knew he was not alone when he passed, but in the company of friends.
Tom continued to fly, at one point buzzing his father’s golf club. In 1966 he met his wife and started a family. In 1973 he delivered a speech at the Boston Navy Yard for the dedication of a frigate – the USS Jesse L. Brown. Daisy was in the audience. Even after sixty years, the promise to come back for Jesse, one of nearly eight thousand United States military personnel missing in action from the Korean War, still hung heavy on him. In 2013, despite warnings from the State Department about his safety, and with his Medal of Honor around his neck, Tom stepped off a plane in North Korea. Impressed with Tom’s dedication to finding his friend, the Supreme Leader, Kim Jong Un, granted approval for the search to resume for America’s MIAs, starting with Jesse Brown.
The story recorded in Devotion showcases the best about humanity. Jesse and Tom were the finest America had to offer. Jesse’s determination to become a pilot is shining example of the determination that comes from following one’s dreams. Tom’s actions on December 4, 1951 are an example of the power of friendship. Hopefully, the film adaptation tells the story with the polish and finesse that it deserves. My prayers are with the production. May its success at the box office pave the way for more major films about the Korean War so that the veterans and fallen of “The Forgotten War” remain unforgotten.
Because it is a testimony to the power of friendship, I believe that Devotion by Adam Makos should be a movie honoring our Korean War veterans.
