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The following story appears courtesy of and with thanks to Robert H Allison.

It was during this time that Pearl Harbor was attacked on December 7, 1941. At the time of the attack on Pearl Harbor, which was about two o'clock p.m. Iowa time, my brother, Carl, and I and two of our friends, were about ten miles out in the country doing a little target practice with our 22 caliber rifles. It was on our way home that we heard over the car radio of the attack on Pearl Harbor. We were highly incensed that anyone would have the guts to pick a fight with our Navy especially a scrawny little nation like Japan.
We had no doubts that our Army and Navy would mop up the floor with Japan and in no time. We were especially irritated because our brother, Melvin, was in the Navy and was stationed in Pearl Harbor aboard the cruiser, USS Raleigh, at that time. For the next two weeks we did not hear from Melvin, but then learned that he had not been injured even though the Raleigh, which was tied up at Ford Island at the time, took a 500 pound bomb on the stern that passed through the ship, through his golf clubs and exploded in mud.

That Sunday we had no idea of the devastation to the US fleet caused by the attack; nor that a major part of the Pacific fleet lay on the bottom of Pearl Harbor. Nor were we aware that about 3000 service men had been killed and many more had been wounded.
In the next few days after the declaration of war with Japan, Germany and Italy on December 8th there was a mobbing of the local recruiting stations with patriotic young men trying to volunteer. This was in addition to those who were being drafted by the selective service agency. I was not one of them. Not because I was not patriotic but because I had a recurring vision of fulfilling my teenage dream of having the Army teaching me to fly an airplane.

Working with me at the bank were two young guys about my age who had signed up to take a refresher course in some of the subjects that would help them pass the Army Air Corps entrance exam. For me it sounded like a good idea. The course was offered by the local Elks Lodge who had hired two Drake University students to teach these courses in math, history, English grammar and a few other subjects they thought were necessary for passing the test.

Here was an opportunity to improve my chances of becoming a pilot and doing it the way I said I would years earlier, that is: at the army's expense. I hadn't forgotten the desire. So I took advantage of the BPOE and, indeed, I owe them a debt of gratitude. For three months I attended these classes three nights a week.

In March the Army Air Corps was to give a test for aviation cadets. I was prepared to take it when my brother, Carl, decided to come home from Washington, D.C., where he had been working for the FBI in the finger print department. He wanted to take the test too. When he found out the Elks were starting another class, he decided he would attend the refresher course. So we both waited while he took the course.

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