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through the eyes of his son by Dan Halloran
1 had
often heard my dad tell stories about his exploits in the Pacific and
I had a mental picture of what it might have looked and felt like during
that time in the Pacific Theater in WW II. So when he presented me with
the plan to return Saipan and the other islands, I jumped at the opportunity. |
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Our flight to Saipan with a plane change at Guam took 12 hours. I had traveled quite a bit during my career in Europe and never thought much about it (the war). But on this trip I kept thinking about long over water flights with the limited technology of the 1940's. Dad would tell me of celestial navigation, which involved "shootings" of stars to establish position and making adjustments to compensate for wind direction and velocity. Doing this without a break for hours on end to arrive at your assigned destination seems impossible to me. But now here we are flying first class and toasting our Pacific Journey with champagne and watching movies, a real contrast to flying combat missions on WWII. Of course the Continental, Northwest and United Pilots were always very interested in hearing about Dad's experiences. On our flight from Guam to Saipan the pilot became so engrossed with the story of those long ago days that he gave us the grand tour of Tinian and flew around the island of Saipan pointing out major landmarks. When I commented to the Captain after we landed on Saipan that a few of the passengers were upset about the delay caused by our tour he said, "Hell these people need to thank Hap for what he went through for our sake". I thought that was great! |
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| On Saipan Dad enjoys the devotion of a great group of friends. They met on his previous trips to Saipan in the late eighties and mid-nineties when Dad had gone there for commemorative WWII events. All of these are sort of ex-patriots that still love the U.S. but have made a comfortable life for themselves in the far Pacific comer of our country's influence. These folks are a mix of local Chamorrans and "mainlanders", local politicians and entrepreneurs. One of the locals that comes to mind was an always smiling Chamorran named Ben Sablan. Whenever he smiled he would reveal a full set of red teeth that was the result of his regularly chewing a red nut called the betel nut. He took us in his four-wheel drive Jeep to the B-29 hardstands and taxi strips and Isley Field runways built in 1944 by the Seabees; a unit of the military I had not been familiar with. Their contribution to the war effort was extremely important. | |
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