My assignment to Germany was a tour I will never forget. I would be working at the European Headquarters for the Air Force, a very large building in the center of Wiesbaden.
My family would stay with my parents in Jenkins until I found a place to rent. My car had not arrived, and one of my men drove me to look at housing.
I was having a hard time finding a place for my large family. I found a threebedroom farmhouse in the little town of Bremthal, 25 miles from my base. Then I find out the school bus did not drive to that town, that my kids would be the only students that needed to be picked up.
I met my boss for the first time, asking for help with the school bus problem. He was a full colonel and spoke German fluently. He took me to the school board and talked to the German in charge of the school buses.
My boss told him that I was a very important person under his command, and that I needed a bus to pick up my kids. I was introduced to a bus driver who drove me to my new home.
He told me that he would drive into my yard and pick my kids up at 7:15 every morning when they arrived from the States and were ready to start school.
As time went by, I was doing a very good job for my boss and we were getting to know each other well. He found out that I was a highaverage bowler and put me on his bowling team where we won many awards.
I sometimes went on temporary duty (TDY) with him to our air bases in Europe that were under our command.
From day one I began hearing rumors about my boss. During World War II he was in France and later in Germany behind enemy lines as an agent, working with the Freedom Fighters. The allies would drop off supplies to him for his men, guns, explosives, radios, maps, other agents, and German marks to fight the Germans.
He was a hero with a chest full of medals, and everyone knew him. I was so proud to be working for him.
He was promoted to General and assigned stateside, and I really missed him.
In October, 1971, I was assigned to the Pentagon as non-commissioned officer in charge (NCOIC) of the Message Center, and Printing Department. A couple of months later the guard at our door came to my door and told me that a General wanted to see me.
It was my boss from Germany, now the Officer in Charge (OIC) of Pentagon personnel. I held out my hand to shake his, and he gave me a big hug.
I thought my men would pass out.
In the 18 months I was at the Pentagon we saw a lot of each other. I had many fine bosses, but he was someone very special to me.
Contributing writer Everett Vanover lives in Fairfield, Calif.