Our Grandpa Ted

Perhaps most families can point to one particular event that has occurred in their family history that is really significant. It could be 9/11. It could be the birth of multiples, or an accident. It could be some wonderful award or achievement. For our family, this family-altering experience happened to our Grandpa Ted. And on this 65th anniversary of the occasion, our family says “Thanks.” The details of the event have provided the materials for unending talks, school projects, creative writing pieces, skits and journal entries. It occurred on May 29th, 1943 in St. Quay/Portrieux, France. Ted was 24 years old.

It was his very first bombing mission, and before he had even dropped his bombs, his B-17 Flying Fortress plane had been hit by enemy anti-aircraft fire. With only one functioning engine, he had hoped to limp his way across the English Channel and back to London, but it quickly became evident that they would have to bail out. As pilot, he was the last to leave "Lady Godiva" just minutes before she crashed into the bay off the north coast of enemy-occupied France. Eight members of the crew were captured and became POWs. Ted’s parachute blew into a tree and before he could untangle himself from branches and shroud lines he was surrounded by a group of teenagers who made it clear that they would help him. One took his flight boots. One took his parachute. Two boys led him into a ravine where he was to hide until they returned for him that night.

A week later, his bride of only a few months received a telegram that he was “missing in action.” For her, that was the beginning of a long three months of hoping and praying. There was no way for her to know that these boys had put him into the hands of the French Resistance. The problem was how to get him out of France. Up until this time, the French would put a rescued flier into a boat and, under cover of darkness, race him half way across the English Channel to meet an Allied Forces boat for transfer to safety. But by May 29th the days had become too long. There was not enough darkness, and their strategy had been discovered. While Ted posed as a French art student or as a tuberculosis patient languishing in a sanitarium, a new escape route was being hatched.

The escape itself involved an arduous hike (by foot) across the Pyrenees Mountains into Barcelona, Spain. The eleven day trip was made without food or water, with the exception of one meal they ate when they passed through Andora.

The very tree where Ted's parachute landed is still standing in a field near St. Quay. A few years ago we stood under that tree on May 29th with Ted and one of the young boys who came to his rescue. We stood in the ravine with Ted and heard him tell how he had felt and what his thoughts had been as he waited alone, hearing the German motorcycles moving back and forth across the area looking for him . He made a promise that day that if he were allowed to return home safely he would spend the rest of his life serving the Lord. He did that. Thank you, Ted, for your wonderful life and example.