A Warm Welcome
Retired Air Force Lt. Col. John Yauk, now living in Manitou Springs, Colo., always gets the presidential treatment from Katie, his wife of 62 years.

Shortly after graduating from flight school at Lubbock, Texas, in November 1942, I was transferred to the Ferrying Division of the Air Transport Command. I was assigned to the 7th Ferrying Group, 25th Ferrying Squadron, at Great Falls, Mont., which recently had been formed.

My group consisted of several service pilots—rated civilian pilots who were inducted straight into the Army Air Force without graduating from a formal military flying school. They were given a commission and wore flying wings with an “S” in the center. They all were great guys and helped many green flying graduates—myself included—transition to first pilots in four-engine aircrafts, such as the B-17.

Most of the service pilots were older men. Compared to the recent crop of military flying graduates, they were more mature and, for the most part, were an easygoing bunch with great senses of humor.

Also, by funny coincidence, a lot of the service pilots at Great Falls had the same last names as more famous men. Capt. Robert Crawford, USAF, who penned the U.S. Air Force’s anthem, “Off We Go Into the Wild Blue Yonder,” was one of the genuine celebrities at Great Falls, but a number of pilots shared names with well-known generals (but they were not related, of course). We had a Captain Clark, a Captain Patton, and a Captain Eisenhower, just to name a few. Needless to say, they experienced many amusing incidents as a result of their famous last names, but one of the best stories came from Eisenhower.

It happened while he was delivering a B-17 to another base. A few miles from his destination, he asked the tower for landing instructions. They gave him the necessary information and then asked, “Please confirm the name of the highest-ranking officer aboard.”

The captain answered, simply, “Eisenhower.”

The remainder of the flight went well, and after landing, the “follow-me” jeep—a vehicle used to meet and guide planes to their respective, appropriate parking spaces—led his plane to a special area. Two rows of military personnel lined up in front of the plane’s exit door, and a small band began playing. Several staff cars were parked nearby, and there was a whole group of high-ranking officers standing at attention.

First Eisenhower’s crew chief exited, then his copilot. As the captain stepped from the plane, the assembled men all but scratched their heads in confusion. Finally, one of the officers cleared his throat and asked, “Hey, where’s Eisenhower?”

The captain smiled and gave a little wave. “That’s me,” he replied, “I’m Captain Eisenhower.”

A grumble of disappointment spread through the crowd, and almost immediately, the entire group vanished, cars and all. The captain was left without a ride and had to walk to the operations office carrying his own bags.