A Good Friend Lost in the Good War

My story, like most young American men in December of 1941, takes a drastic change as Pearl Harbor was by the Japanese. I was nineteen at the time and fully of patriotism. I decided to enlist in the Air Force the very next day. I was sent to Alabama for training and this is was my real story begins.
Training camp was one of the hardest experiences of my life. We had to carry around all of our gear wherever we went and we were made to listen to our commanding officers at all times. We had to wake up every day at the crack of dawn and get out and get ready in ten minutes. My bunk mate Jim and I were always the last ones out of the cabins and always made the entire unit do fifty push-ups every morning. Our unit got so mad at us that ended up soaking wet the next morning. We were never late again after that. Throughout training camp Jim and I stayed close and ended up becoming best friends. I was training to become a Tail Bomber and Jim was becoming an Aerial Gunner. The training was tough and I wanted to quit at every turn but Jim was always there to keep my spirits up.
Training camp was finally over and Jim and I were assigned to be on the same plane. We were so excited that we were on the same plane and we could not wait for our first mission. The next day we were going to go up in the sky and go on a patrol with our unit. The next morning was an entirely different morning. First of all Jim and I were the first ones dressed and outside for inspection. We were trained and ready for this to happen. Inspection was finished and we were led to our planes. As we walked up the ramp Jim told me to "take care buddy" and he sat down in his seat and I went to the tail and closed the door.
The mission was a rush. We were told to bomb an area over the Pacific and it happened without a hitch. We arrived back at our base and we celebrated with a couple of Cokes and sat down to play some poker with some people from our cabin. Our commanding officer came into our cabin and told us the bad news that a plane had been shot down on the mission after ours. We were all shocked. It was the first time that we had experienced this type of loss.
We continued to go out on routine bombing missions for the next month. We had never been shot at yet, but our unit had lost six planes over the month. I had become progressively nervous and I was worrying about dieing in a scrap of metal without my family around. The next morning when I woke up I could not handle myself getting into a tiny tail of a bomber today. Everyone on each plane was required to know how to operate each others job, so Jim asked me if I wanted to switch with him for this mission. I agreed and we got ready to go out on another mission. We stepped on the plane together as we always did and Jim said to me "take care buddy" and he stepped into the tail and closed the door.
The mission started as any other mission would, but there was this feeling that I had in the pit of my stomach. It was like something bad was going to happen. We flew over our target and Jim started to bomb them, only this time a plane was following us and started to shoot at us. I was scared stiff less. Our pilot Matt started to take evasive action, but before we realized it we were hit and started go down. I looked around to see where we had been hit and the was smoke coming out of the tail door. The had hit the tail where Jim was. At this point we hit the ground and I blacked out.
I awoke in a hospital bed two days later in a room with the people from my plane in beds of their own. At this point I remembered what happened and I used all of my strength to sit up and look around for Jim. He was no where in the room. I stopped and asked a nurse about where Jim was. She just looked down and said "he did not make it." I could not believe it. Everyone else had survived except for Jim. I could not stop thinking that it should have been me. The one day that I switch jobs with him he dies.
After that I could not eat or sleep, all I could think about was Jim and how he should not have died. I decided that I had to be the one to tell his family about his death. I asked for some paper and a pen and I wrote to his family about our time together and to ask for their forgiveness for having him sit in my seat.
I was sent home with a Purple Heart a couple of weeks later and had not heard from Jim's family yet. I decided that I had to continue my life. I received my GI Bill and decided to go to college.
Two months later a get a letter in the mail from Jim's mother. She had taken so much time because it was hard to cope with the loss of her eldest son, but she forgave me and she wanted to meet the person who her son had sent many letters about. I agreed and we set a time and place to meet for the upcoming week. I told her all about the time we spent together and what his last words were to me, but I could not help thinking that maybe I was standing here for a reason, that I was meant to do something and Jim had given his life for me to be able to accomplish my goal.

I have yet to find what I was supposed to do, but every year on the same day I meet Jim's mother and we talk about that day. She had become like a second mom to me and I think that I took a little of the pain away from her thinking about Jim. Before I leave I always say to her the words that Jim always said to me. Take care buddy.