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No More
Minutes With Andy Rooney
By Jeff Carter
November 6, 2011
Sorry
to hear Andy Rooney passed away.
Barely a month past his resignation from 60 Minutes.
He
was 92.
One
of the reasons I am involved with
building the National World War Two Museum in New Orleans is because of
people
like Andy Rooney. His generation isn’t getting any younger. The museum
should
have been built in the 1960’s, when memories were fresher. But,
Rooney’s
generation came home from the war and went to work. They raised
families and
built businesses.
Few
talked about their wartime
experiences. They wanted to shield their kids from the pain. I haven’t
ever
talked with a person that was in battle that actually beats their chest
and
yells, “Look what I did”. Most of the ones that do weren’t ever under
fire-at
least according to my friends and acquaintances that were.
Today,
we have a thing called Honor
Flight. I think it’s great. They fly WW2 vets out to a memorial in
Washington
DC. My only regret is that I wish they would fly those same guys to New
Orleans
to visit the museum. Then we could get an oral history from
them-something on
tape to save for the generations to come. Something historians one
hundred
years from now could have access to.
Rooney
and I differed politically.
But, his accounts of World War Two resonate to this day and I believe
his
experiences are what caused him to be so antiwar in the later stages of
his
life. War is such a waste of resources.
But,
sometimes they do have to be
fought when left with no other practical choice. World War Two was one
of those
wars. It was truly a choice between freedom and totalitarianism. Human
decency
and dignity vs Destruction of humanity.
I
hope that someday you make a trip to
New Orleans to see the museum and learn about the war, and what can be
done to
stop future wars from being fought. Plus, I’d be happy if you sent a
check to
the museum and made a small donation. Every little bit helps, even
twenty
bucks.
Here
is a little of what Andy Rooney
witnessed and wrote after the war. It came from an article by Bethanne
Kelly
Patrick Military.com Columnist
Andrew
A. Rooney set out from his
hometown in the Albany, N.Y., area to nearby Colgate College, ready to
play
football and have a good time — until fate, in the form of World War
II,
intervened.
Rooney
was drafted and sent to basic
training at Fort Bragg, N.C. His most memorable achievement there, he
noted,
was managing to heist a chunk of ice back to the barracks on a hot
night so
that he and his cohorts could enjoy canteens full of cold water.
The
unit soon had a cold shower of
reality when they were shipped out to Europe. Because Rooney had a
smidgen of
education and a very brief amount of Army writing experience, he was
assigned
to “detached service” with the newly created Stars and Stripes
newspaper.
Housed in the vacated Times of London offices (that venerable journal
had moved
underground), the busy military newsroom covered events as diverse as
VIP
visits, unit softball games, and — oh, yes, combat. Rooney was detailed
to the
8th Air Force and spent so much time observing its preparations,
maneuvers, and
landings that he co-authored his first bestseller, “Air Gunner,” during
that
time.
It
was while Rooney was attached to
the 8th that he witnessed a death terrible in its inevitability. A call
came in
that one bomber’s ball turret gunner was trapped. Operating in the
bomber’s
belly, ball turret gunners rotated their plastic “cages” for maximum
target
capability. On this particular aircraft, the rotational gears had
jammed and
the gunner could not return to a position where he could exit into the
plane.
The
bomber was losing altitude fast
and would have to make a crash landing. Everyone –crew, observers, and
especially the ball turret gunner — knew what was going to happen. The
pilot
ordered the crew to ditch everything to keep the plane in the air for a
few
more precious minutes, but still the wheels could not be brought down.
“We all
watched in horror as it happened,” Rooney writes in “My War.” We
watched as
this man’s life ended, mashed between the concrete pavement of the
runway and
the belly of the bomber.”
And
then young Sgt. Rooney went back
to his city desk and his work. “I returned to London that night shaken
and
unable to write the most dramatic, the most gruesome, the most
heart-wrenching
story I had ever witnessed,” he recalls. “Some reporter I was.”
Thanks
Andy.
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