The White Falcon - 02.04.1993, Blaðsíða 1

The dedication of Meek’s Field on March 24,1948, saw the largest military review ever at KeflavOc staged by the Army and Navy construction
troops with Army and Air Force defense forces. (Official U.S. Air Force file photo)
Keflavik, stepping stone of the Atlantic
By Frldthor Kr. Eydal
Deputy Public Affairs Officer,
Iceland Defense Force
OVI
fP°'
con
It is a cool, drizzly morning. A gray
overcast sky merges with dark lava where it
eets the lead colored ocean on the distant
rizon. The older soldier, wearing stripes
bn his sleeves, leads the younger, who has
gold bars on his shoulders and silver wings on
his chest, around one of the big aircraft on the
glistening tarmac. As they make their rounds,
he listens patiently to the new aviator’s con-
cerns about the many squeaks and strange
noises of his shiny new war birds. He occa-
sionally knocks on metal or kicks tires and
offers comfort before sending the pilot and
aircraft off again on their long journey to war.
The place is Keflavik, Iceland. The year is
1943. The young aviator, after only a few
months of flight training, is one of thousands
to take these heavy bombers straight from the
assembly line, across the Atlantic Ocean, to
England and the battlefields of Europe along
the treacherous Northern Air Route via Lab-
rador, Greenland and Iceland.
The older man is typical of the many ground
crew and maintenance men stationed at these
remote airfields. Their work is relentless
despite difficult and harsh conditions. Dur-
ing the long Arctic winter nights, they work
outside in freezing wind, rain or snow. In
contrast, in the summer, their work is done in
continuous daylight.
The “flightline” crew listens attentively to
squawks” of the inexperienced aircrews
who are still somewhat unfamiliar with their
equipment and who reflect the natural anxi-
ety of men approaching combat for the first
time. Their’s is the task to investigate these
concerns and to help the unblooded warriors
in every way possible to install complete
confidence in their aircraft and a steady reli-
ance in themselves.
Perhaps, a year later, the young aviator is
back. He has matured into a seasoned pilot,
flying his battered, war-weary bird like an
angel. Together, they underwent their “bap-
tism of fire.” The rows of little bomb sym-
bols on the war-tom fuselage bear witness to
the many ordeals and close calls they had
while making endless bombing runs through
flak and fighter infested skies over Europe.
There are no strange noises anymore. They
are half way home and it will take a lot more
than “squeeks” to stop them this time.
Not everybody will make it back, how-
ever. Some never made it here in the first
place, lost forever to the unforgiving cold and
inhospitable, mountainous terrain and gla-
ciers or the dark icy water of the North
Atlantic.
To the unversed fledgling of the massive
A Northrop F-89C "Scorpion" stands poised, readyfor action, with pilot and radar observer,
circa 1956. The plane was assigned to the 57th Fighter Intercept Squadron, the predecessor
to today’s 57th Fighter Squadron, Air Forces Iceland. (Official U.S. Air Force file photo)
The White Falcon historical insert