We have come to Falcon Field, in Mesa, 20 miles east of Phoenix, Arizona, in search of my father, Anthony Gerald Ellis.
Dad trained to be a fighter pilot for the Royal Air Force (RAF) here in 1944 under a scheme started in 1941 to help shore-up the war effort in Europe.
Many young British pilots had perished in The Battle of Britain in 1940.
Falcon Field was one of several airfields in the USA where members of the RAF—in my father’s case, a flight technician–could train in safety, get their wings and return to the war in Europe.
The story of Dad’s American odyssey had long been a part of our family mythology.
His almost permanent tan marked him out as someone who had spent many months in the notorious heat of southwestern United States.
I remember looking in awe at the colour photos in the magazine, Arizona Highways, that would arrive monthly all through the fifties.
Tony, as he was called, was “adopted”—as were all the young fliers—by a family in Phoenix for the duration of his stay.
In his case it was the Smith family whose mission was to make him feel at home at weekends and American holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas–far from his wife (my mother) and me (a two-year-old) back home in war-weary Britain.
(We would love to locate that family–but their name was Smith! They had a daughter named Polly who might be alive still and remember Tony Ellis.)
Meredith and I and our friend Katie Solon arrive at the museum at 9am and the two volunteer receptionists greet us warmly.
When they hear WHY we have come—to find evidence of my father’s time at Falcon Field–they are immediately interested.
“We need to find Dennis Lemon” they agree, “He’s your man—Dennis knows everything there is to know about Falcon Field and its past.”
A promising start, I am thinking, with a rising feeling of hope and expectancy.
For the next two hours that feeling does not evaporate in the intense heat—already 100 degrees! Rather it grows in strength, thanks to the skills of Mr. Dennis Lemon.
Dennis is a senior docent or tour guide at the air museum–and imparts his encyclopedic knowledge of the airfield and its exhibits with charm, humor and authority–and a light touch. He does not rush.
I explain our mission and he is fully engaged–and promises a visit to the archives before the morning ends.
As we start our tour in the first of the two huge hangars that house the museum, a small plane—an F4F Wildcat–taxis out, its propellers spluttering into life with deafening effect.
Dennis explains that it is owned by the pilot who regularly takes it out occasionally for a “run” .
The noise intensifies as the pilot gives us a wave and goes on his way towards the runway.
We spend the morning here in Mesa fascinated by the range of aviation history on show.
There are flying machines from the First World War so flimsy looking that the thought of taking off in one–let alone sparring with the enemy from the cockpit–gives me the shivers.
At the other end of aviation history there is the sinister presence of a Soviet MIG fighter flown here by a Hungarian pilot and gifted to the museum.
In between, airplanes large and small and middling–lovingly cared for–and in some cases prepared for take-off–by a small army of veterans and enthusiasts dedicated to maintaining and growing this remarkable museum as a living and working reminder of the story of war in the air.
Dennis takes us inside the fuselage of a World War 2 Bomber.
It is cramped, claustrophobic and unbearably HOT.
The difficult conditions experienced by bomber crews flying into a combat zones suddenly become vividly clear.
We feel humbled–and relieved to get our feet back on the ground.
Poignantly for me, Dennis points out three small aircraft similar to the ones in which my father would have done his training.
One I recognize from a war photo on a wall at home.
A second was involved in a story he used to tell his impressionable sons about his time at Falcon Field.
One morning he took off with others on a training flight going north in the direction of the Grand Canyon.
At a certain point the pilots were instructed to turn RIGHT (east)–and return to Falcon Field.
Dad’s mantra for life was Don’t rock the boat!–-but he always maintained that he ignored the order, turned LEFT and flew over the Grand Canyon!
Dennis has an amused look when I relate the story–but confirms that this is plausible.
Dad could well have done it!
HOORAY!
Consequences? He never admitted what happened AFTER he returned to the airfield….
Perhaps the Powers-that-Be let him off with a reprimand—recognising that a sense of initiative in a young pilot should be encouraged in times of war. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking.
At the end of our tour, Dennis shows us the small plane in which a newly-qualified pilot would have celebrated earning his wings.
I am moved– imagining my father’s sense of pride and achievement as he flew off with his wings on his lapel.
And I feel regret–that I hadn’t questioned him more closely about one of the great adventures of his life.
“Now for the archives,” says Dennis and leads us into a nondescript room at the back of the second hangar.
He disappears behind a line of filing cabinets and after a couple of minutes emerges with a pile of cardboard boxes filled with leather-bound notebooks.
We spend the next few minutes examining the files–turning over the pages filled with beautifully-calligraphed names dating back to 1941.
Will we find Dad’?
In the last book– on almost the last page–at the very bottom of the list: THERE HE IS!
A thrilling moment! ELLIS, Anthony G.
He got his wings on April 1st, 1945, age 29 –relatively old for a pilot.
The war in Europe ended on May 8, 1945–which is why he survived when many of the pilots who trained here had KIA after their names: Killed In Action.
Dad had spent 33 weeks at Falcon Field–and developed an enduring attachment to the United States.
I only spent two hours, but it was a joy and a privilege, thanks to Dennis Lemon and the volunteers who keep this museum alive.
The museum is special—full of these gleaming beasts of war, glowing with restored life and looked after lovingly by an army of volunteers.
It was a chastening experience too, spending time close up and personal with them–for this lucky boy born into a war, followed–thanks to the deeds of our fathers and grandfathers–by a long period of relative peace in Europe.
I would recommend a visit–even if you are not on a mission to find your Dad!
P.S. Two days later Meredith and I took off in a small fixed-wing plane–similar to Dad’s–and flew through the Grand Canyon.
Great story, Robin!
Dear Mr. Ellis–Thank you for sharing your experience w/us. I am reminded of my father’s and my uncles’ service and, like you, wish that I had asked more them more questions. Karen Merry Schaub-Wisconsin
Thank you, Robin, for this very moving tribute to your Dad. I was very moved while reading it.
Someday, I’d like to fly over the Grand Canyon!
Genie Pohl
Such a moving story. Thank you for sharing this special moment in your life and this very special place with us. I truly hope you can get in touch with the Smith family someday.
Great photos, especially that first photo of you and Dennis.
Reverend Halse seems to be mellowing these days. I really enjoyed seeing the other side of this character. I hope there is more to come.
Tina
Wow…what an amazing experience for you. Thank you for sharing such an engaging story of your family.
A quick Internet search for “Polly Smith Phoenix Arizona” turned up a Polly Smith Snyder, still residing in Phoenix, who was born in 1909. I’d say that the Internet might be a little behind in her timeline, but thought it was intriguing
She’d have been in her early 30’s in 1944, a little old to be the daughter.
Thank you for this.
What a great post, Robin, with fascinating photos. And your dad was a very handsome fellow!
Thanks Debbie–wasn’t he just!
Thank you for shearing your lovely and interesting story. HK
Thank you for sharing. You must have spent a wonderful time there exploring and finding these things about your Dad.
So pleased for you Robin. Thank you for sharing a personal experience. You must feel quite exhilarated.
Shawdian
What a rewarding journey for you.
Thank you for a trip back in time. For those of us still alive today, the changes in technology, politics, life, medicine and so much more seem unimaginable… though I thought the same of my Mother who was born at the turn of the century and my Dad in the 1800’s. I’m glad I was born (’43) in the USA when I was, childhood was simple and idyllic for many back then.
It’s nice you learned so much about your Dad from this trip. How true, that as youngsters we never asked them enough questions about their life experiences as we were so busy either playing with our own friends or looking for our own adventures in life.
You should reach out to Polly Smith Snyder who was born in 1909. Because she had the same name as the Polly Smith you are looking for, she just may know her. Also Phoenix was not so big in those days so it would have been easier to know just about everybody.
Anthony G. Ellis was a handsome man indeed. I particularly love the photo with his Errol Flynn mustache!
What a wonderful story! How blessed you were to be able to find him. He was very handsome and had a kind face….it must run in the family!!
Truly, one of my regrets, all the questions I never asked. I can remember when I found my dads name on the Manifest of the Queen Mary, returning to the US from the war in Germany. I’m so glad you found what you were looking for.
Interesting and touching memories and tour. Thank you. Ellen
This is an inspirational piece . Well done Sir for your research and thank you for sharing.
Jo x
Hi Johanne–thank you. The research bit was fun.
And you ended up with quite an attachment to America also. . .with the name of Meredith!
Spot on, Barb!
Oh Robin, thanks for the wonderfully written and felt account. Gives me a homey and genuine feeling of being friends. And, you were not so far away from my hometown, Longmont, CO—at least compared to France!
My pop was in the Marine Corps from 1941 to war’s end, a sergeant doing materiel and manpower train transportation from Great Lakes [near Chicago}, Illinois. Never saw action [he was rather old 33!!!] but he played his part like many of our valiant men- and womenfolk in that dreadful war.
Thanks as always for sharing with all your friends…assume you’re on a cookbook-signing tour?
Best wishes,
Stevie de Longmont
Thanks Stevie.
A wonderful story which resonates for me, namely : archives, and my father was a navigator in No/9 Squadron Bomber Command. He trained in Canada in 1942, and have his navigation notes and 3 station magazines, to which he contributed. He and his crew were hit by flak and came own on 1 January 1945 in Holland, returning from a bombing raid. 5 of the 7 crew members survived, but my father lost his best friend George Thompson, who was awarded a VC posthumously for bravery trying to save 2 of the crew (he saved 1), and who died of pneumonia in a Belgian hospital, suffering with 70% burns. I’m so pleased you enjoyed your visit and found your father’s name. How wonderful for you!
Very touching story, Helen–thank you.
Robin and Meredith – another resource is zabasearch.com – it brings up 12 polly smith listings in arizona — 2 in Mesa and several others in metro PHX area – phones numbers are listed.
We love the Grand Canyon — also the Oak Creek Canyon drive between Flagstaff and Sedona. Lots to see and do there when the temperatures are bearable (i.e. wintertime!!!)
Thanks for sharing a wonderful account of your dad’s experience in AZ.
We did that drive and it is beautiful.
What a wonderful journey to take and that these memories are being preserved as they should be.
A deeply moving experience. I am so glad you were able to find all this information in Phoenix and through the dedication of the museum guide.
My father survived the war as an Air Gunner with the RAF. But my uncle was not so lucky.
He was sent to train in East London in South Africa where his plane went into the sea and all the crew were killed.
Through a very knowledgeable local historian we were shown exactly where the plane hit the water and sailed out with him to throw flowers on the spot. I took photos for my mother and aunts which made them very emotional as they had had no vision of where this had happened. Later we were able to speak with the very elderly widow of the Chaplain who had held the service for the crew. It was an incredible few days.
My uncles name is on the War Memorial at El Alamein, something else which the family were not aware of.
We children who were born during the war have so much to be thankful for and like you Robin, I wish I had asked more questions as I grew up.
So happy to hear your father survived, Arlene.
Wonderful story. Thank you for sharing it. Although I have to wonder why you were wearing a long sleeved shirt in Arizona!
aAgainst those sun rays!
What a fascinating journey, Robin. How lovely it would be to find the Smith family and perhaps see some photos of your father with them. He certainly was a very handsome man – I can see where you got your looks from xx
Just wow. And, yes, thank you.
What a wonderful story. Your Dad would have been so pleased to know you did that trip. And the heat!!! I could almost feel it from Australia! I enjoyed reading it. Thank you. Joan
Sent from my iPhone
>
Robin and Meredith,this is such a moving and heartfelt rememberance of Robin’s Dad.(Thank you!) And especially(!) for reminding me of my own dear father( a World War 2 paratrooper and radio broadcaster with Edward R Murrow).(I only wish I had paid more attention when he spoke of his experiences!)How blessed we were to have such inspiration in our lives!And to be graced with the freedom we have through their sacrifices and love.
I also enjoyed reading of your visit to Arizona as I grew up in Scottsdale(a suburb of Phoenix) and for the past 52 years,married to (a now retired) airline captain Also fortunate for many visits to the Grand Canyon, beauty of it never diminishing.
A million prayers would still be to few to thank God for all we are and have been blessed with!
PS Here in Las Vegas tied with Phoenix for record highs of 118!
Dear Sir
Great diarism. Thanks for posting this.
My father had a mixed WWII experience. He was sent to a swampy Gulf coast army training camp, caught rheumatic fever, spent many weeks in a hospital, then spent the war stateside typing. The good part was that this may have saved his life, since he was not sent to fight.
Mesa looks like a better but hotter place to have been.
All the best
We love that air museum! Both of our dads were pilots in WWII, though mine never saw action. My husband loved seeing the type of plane his dad talked about, as a bomber in the Pacific. So glad you found your dad’s name! He was in the U.S. a long while… And glad you & Meredith flew over the Grand Canyon. Brilliant. Sorry about the heat, but that’s Arizona in the summer.
Isn’t that the indescribable feeling when you see “that name”!!!!. You might dabble in genealogy a bit, Robin! It’s called the genealogical happy dance.
Robin, what an inspiring story about your dad and his time in WW II. My dad was also in the war and it changed his life. He was a logger from Ryderwood Washington and his father and grandfather were also loggers. The war came along and he went into the army (Blackhawk unit taskforce Pope) and was sent to Europe and the Philippines. He met and married my mom overseas and got to go to college on the GI bill. So glad he never went back to being a NW logger it’s a rough and dangerous job!
Enjoyed reading the story. Your Dad was very handsome!
Thank you for sharing this bit of personal history.
Dear Robin, a fascinating story… We the refugees in Germany knew nothing about Mesa nor Falcon Airfield but I recall very vividly those American bombers dropping their cargo on our heads… It was horrific… Thank you for the story.
How exciting! Thanks so much for sharing your adventure with us, Robin and Meredith! It is a thrill to find out more about one’s family history. I love this. I am the family historian in my family. I love the hunt for information about those who went before, and without whom I would not be here!
(I commented before logging in so if this is a duplicate, sorry!)
How exciting! Thanks so much for sharing your adventure with us. I love reading stories like this. I am the family historian for my family because I love the hunt and picking up the threads (and stories) of those who played a part in our being here! It is wonderful that you found the record of Meredith’s dad. Nice to get that reward after traveling so far to investigate!
My Dad, DEHBI!
I was too sleepy when I wrote that! Sorry! One of the hazards of thinking that one is more awake than one is long after one should have gone to bed. Ha!
Welcome to Arizona! I live in Avondale AZ, i am so happy you found what you were looking for. Sorry about the heat but it does get better around September 🙂
What a wonderful experience, Robin. Those of us who are the children of the Greatest Generation are justifiably proud of their bravery. (My dad was US Navy.) And we should also commemorate the courage and sacrifice of the civilians of Western Europe. Thanks for sharing your beautiful story.
Robin, Thank you for this lovely story. I’m glad you were successful. My dad also fought in the war – his first action was the Normandy Invasion (what a way to start!). He never spoke about it much. I also wish I had asked more questions. I hope you find the Smith family!
What a wonderful story! I’m really happy for your discovery. How special to have filled in such integral pieces of your father’s life. Lovely!
A lovely story. The men of that era were made of special stuff. My father wanted to join the army but was called as a Bevan boy, but my heart still bursts with pride for what my daddy did in the war.
What a great experience! I’m glad you found some family nuggets. We found some navy pictures of my dad, and the ship on which he served. Fascinating to see dad from an earlier period.💕
What a wonderful posting and an amazing adventure you both had. You have inspired me to find out about my grandfather Rhubean ‘Jock’ Berwick who was also in the RAF.
What an amazing adventure for you, Meredith and your friend! Thanks for sharing it with us!
A nice story. Thanks for sharing. I will be in Arizona this fall and will check out the museum.
Found this fascinating & happy you could experience the place of such importance in his life. My family & I, as little girl, lived at Sherman, TX, where there was an Army Air Corps field. The airmen would go to Loy Lake & dance on a slab to “In the Mood”, which I remember well.
So glad you were able to find the information about your father’s time in the US. My father spent the war years at Tempe Field, Arizona (outside Phoenix), where more men were trained for the air war in Europe. The base commander even caught a genuine Nazi spy trying to steal one of the top secret Norden bombsights.
Wonderful story! So glad you visited there (despite the heat) and found memories of your father.
During the War years when my father was in the North Africa campaign, my family lived in Dallas, TX, and often entertained British airmen for lunch (not tea!) on the weekends. Wish I remembered their names, but . . . .
When are you coming to Santa Fe? And how long will you stay? Doing a book signing? If so, where?
Too many questions, but . . . .
Nancy, Santa Fe
We were there a month ago for a few days–no events though.
What a wonderful mission to find a deeply touching connection with your Dad. Very special. x
What a most heartwarming and endering story. It was a lovely read after a difficult day at work……now off to feed Biscuit and Rebus and a cup of tea.
Enjoyed the piece and all the wonderful responses. My dad went to bomber school at age 19 as he was already in a cadet pilot training program. I feel fortunate that his eyes went bad on him before he finished training. They made a flight instructor out of him. I had no idea how dangerous just the training was. It was the book Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand that made that clear. I would urge anyone who had a relative in the sky in WW2 read that book and wish you could ask your new questions.
This was so enjoyable to read. My parents both served in World War II (my mother as an Army nurse in England, my father as a combat medic in Europe). My father never talked much about the war until I was older and then, not a lot of detail. I think this was typical of those who served then. He died on 1 June and in gathering information for his obituary, I learned of the awards he received. I knew that he’d received a Purple Heart (and as he always said “Not one you really want”), but did not know of the others he’d received. He simply never mentioned them.
Thats the way they were isnt it? Humble, did their job and came home.
God love them.
Thank you
Gosh I loved this story! Thank you to your Father for serving and surviving to tell the story. All of these fine young brave men and women fought for our freedom left their families for ours. I will never forget them.
Thank you Robin.
Peggy Fender-Martens
Arvada, Colorado
Great story. Love it. Must have been a very moving trip for you. K
There is a UK website called “Through Their Eyes: Military Photo Archive” that has, for sale, CDs of digitized photo albums that belonged to veterans from WWI to the present. The site shows sample photos from each album–sometimes a few, sometimes a substantial number.
One of the albums is described as “WW2 PHOTO ALBUM WHICH BELONGED TO YOUNG RAF PILOT TRAINEE DEREK BROADBANK….ALBUM FEATURES HIS SEVICE AT UNITED STATES AIRFIELD RAF FALCONFIELD.”
This album has 11 sample photos showing groups of trainees and various activities at Falcon Field. There is no indication of how many photos are contained in the full album.
The information on the Falcon Field album is located at the following url:
http://www.throughtheireyes2.co.uk/WW2-RAF-FALCONFIELD-USA.html
My husband found this website while searching for information on his Dad, who had naval service in WWII. My own Dad was also a WWII vet who served in an airborne division. We have never ordered anything from this website and have no connection with it, but thought to bring it to your attention as the Falcon Field album might be of interest to you.
Wonderful, Cynthia–thank you. I will follow up on this.