As a child, I remember seeing a worn, leather album stuck way in the back of an old bureau chest that had a picture of a lion sitting on top of the world with the slogan "KING of the HEAVIES" on the cover and a patch of an angry Donald Duck waving one fist and holding a bomb in the other tucked inside it. I loved to sneak a peek at the aerial pictures of my dad's bombing runs and of the B-24s and their crews. He also had pictures of a few pretty girls in it and when asked who they are he would say that after meeting my mother, his memory of those other girls was "fuzzy" and that he couldn't remember their names. "Good answer," quipped my mother. Sometimes my dad would see me going through it and give me a brief history lesson. "This is where your grandparents used to live (Canton, Guang Dong Province, China)," he said. All around it were craters where the bombs hit, but, not near their house because my dad told everyone in his squadron not to bomb in this sector because his family lived there and that they are all US citizens.

He and his crew mates were determined to do their part to help end this terrible war. They were thrown into the thick of things and despite their different backgrounds they became as close to each other as if they had grown up in the same family. Their lives were connected by a common goal. Defeat the enemy and win this damn war.

It wasn't easy to get my father to talk about his part in the war. Like many of his generation, he just didn't talk about it much. He didn't talk about the camaraderie and loyalty that bound them together. He didn't talk about the hard work, perseverance and courage that it took to complete the bombing runs. He didn't talk about the danger that they all faced everyday of this war. What he didn't say, he demonstrated by showing unfailing loyalty to his family and friends. He demonstrated his hard work ethic every day and instilled it in all of his kids. He took nothing for granted and always gave back more than he received. It was drilled into us to always leave things in better shape than you found them. Own up to your responsibilities and accept them with pride. Do your part to help make things better; the world would be better for it. And with hard work and perseverance, nowhere on earth do you have the ability and the freedom to follow your dreams than here in America.

So, when my dad asked if my family could accompany them to one of his bomb group reunions in 2007, I gladly accepted. What a wonderful opportunity it was to get other perspectives and listen to other veterans recount little snippets of their experiences. I remembered my father's album and wondered if it was still intact. What a great piece of history that would be! (Provided that he still had it). This time I would view it with a greater appreciation and understanding of the intricacies that would bring our great nation into this world war. Not only did he still have it, he was able to add to it thanks to my cousin, Col. Joseph Chan (retired). Joe was able to request copies of documents from dad's career in the Air Force Base that were archived at Maxwell Air Base in Montgomery, Alabama. Joe was attending the War College at that time.

What a treasure trove of historical facts and notes he had amassed. These artifacts evoked memories in my father as if they had happened just yesterday. What had the greatest impact on me were many of my father's handwritten and typed personal mission logs. My father's narratives revealed a flair for writing that I was not often exposed to while growing up. His notes were so vivid that I could easily imagine being right there along side him. With my father's permission, I have transcribed his handwritten mission logs and would like to share them as well as his hand typed ones with you. (Please note: What my father wrote was from his perspective through the small window of the navigator. It may, and in some cases, be very different from that of other parts/windows and perspectives of his fellow crew members in the B-24.)

Mission Logs of

310th Bomb Wing

V Bomber Command

Fifth Air Force, United States Army

4 March, 1945

Ground support job around Nawa Dam area, 9 miles from Manila.

Primary target: Jap artillery positions on both banks of the river.

They had just landed on Mindoro in the Philippines. The men had pitched their tents. He was assigned "Officer of the Day" and was doing night checks to secure the encampment. He pulled open the flap of one of the tents, stuck his head in and asked if everything was all right. He knew they (the men) could see his officer's cap and bars on his shoulders and black arm band that the designated "Officer of the Day" wore. Dad could see the men immediately reach behind them for their guns because they thought he might have been a Japanese straggler impersonating an American officer. They soon recognized that he was a "friendly." You see, my father was the only Asian in a group of 10,000 men so it was understandable that not everyone knew of this Chinese American officer. What an eye opener!