WASP
shares her World War II experiences
by Chrissy Cuttita
325th
Fighter Wing Public Affairs
3/30/2006 - TYNDALL
AIR FORCE BASE, Fla. (AFPN) -- She
helped set the standard for future female
Airmen, contributed to the Air Force becoming a
separate service, and she and her friends put
themselves in harm's way far from home to serve
the Army in an experimental flying program at
their own expense, all in the name of
patriotism.
“At that time, everyone
was doing something and I felt obligated to help
with the war,” said Deanie Parrish,
Women Airforce Service Pilots veteran. “For
me, I felt flying was my way to contribute.”
A native of Avon Park, Fla., Ms. Parrish
quickly became famous in her small town for
being the only female pilot during her teenage
years, she said. Her town was even more
surprised when she joined the Army at 21, the
required age to apply for the service.
“I wanted to show all those good-looking
male cadet instructors that girls could fly just
as good as the boys,” Ms. Parrish said.
“Besides, the only other things to do for fun in
Avon Park was go to the movies.”
Her
only challenge was saving enough money from her
earnings as a bank employee to pay for her
pilot’s license and the travel fare to Avenger
Field, Texas.
In l942, when there was a
severe shortage of male pilots, Jacqueline
Cochran, America’s foremost female pilot,
convinced General Hap H. Arnold, Chief of the
Army Air Forces, that she could bring together a
corps of seasoned women pilots and train them
the “Army Way” so they could replace the male
pilots being sent overseas, according to WASP
records online.
When they heard the
call, 25,000 young women from all over America
responded, but the requirements for acceptance
of females were tougher than of men. Only 1,830
of the women volunteers were eventually
accepted. In 1945 the U.S. Army transformed
Avenger Field, into the only military flying
school for women.
“Our training program
was the same as the one male cadets were going
through all over the country: ground school,
flight school, cross-country flying, night
flying, instrument flying, daily calisthenics,
flying link trainers, and constantly marching --
the Army way,” Ms. Parrish said. “At the end of
each phase of flight training, we were given
Army check rides by Army Air Force officers.
Those who didn’t pass washed out, packed their
bags, and paid their way back home.”
During training, Ms. Parrish for the
first time met other women who loved flying like
her. Even with her experience as a volunteer for
the Civil Air Patrol, she didn’t run into any
other female pilots in Florida.
“Back
home, girls grew up expecting to be wives,
mothers and maybe a nurse or a teacher, but they
were not expected to have a professional career
and flying was far out there,” said Ms. Parrish,
who still bonds with other WASP through her
volunteer efforts to preserve their history.
“I wanted to do something no one had
done, pave the way and forever change the way of
aviation. Someone had to do it, we had to start
somewhere,” she said.
After earning her
WASP wings, Ms. Parrish was assigned as an
engineering test pilot at Greenville, Miss.
After the red-lined planes were fixed, she and
other WASP test pilots flew them to see if they
were air worthy for the cadets to fly.
“WASP lived in the officers’ quarters
and took their orders from (Army) Air Force
commanders,” Ms. Parrish said. “WASP flew every
type of aircraft the Air Force owned --trainers,
fighters, bombers -- and they flew them in all
kinds of weather and under all kinds of adverse
conditions. They ferried personnel and hauled
cargo; they delivered aircraft to points of
embarkation; and they test-flew new planes, old
planes, rebuilt planes and some planes that male
pilots refused to fly. And they delivered many
old war-weary airplanes to the junkyards and
scrap heaps of America.”
Her most
memorable assignment was at Tyndall for two
reasons. First, as a tow-target pilot, she had
the ability to master her flying skill in a
twin-engine aircraft most pilots felt was too
dangerous to fly, the B-26 Martin Marauder, and
it became her favorite plane to fly. It had
short wings and appeared to have no support,
hence the reason the aircraft was nicknamed
“Widow Maker,” “The Flying Coffin,” and others.
“I towed targets for ground-to-air
anti-aircraft gunnery practice, and targets for
air-to-air gunnery practice -- always for
gunnery trainees firing live ammunition,” Ms.
Parrish said.
“Needless to say, these
were ‘green gunners’ which means they were
learning and some couldn’t shoot as straight as
others. The plane had the worst training record
but was the best in combat,” she said.
The second reason Tyndall was so
memorable for her became a life-long treasure.
It was a routine training mission that would
result in her base commander walking her down
the chapel aisle.
“During a
target-towing mission, 1st Lt. Bill Parrish
instructed his gunners to aim close so he could
meet the ‘cute girl pilot’ towing the target,”
she said. “They came so close, they put a few
holes in my tail. When I landed, I started to
give Bill a piece of my mind, but instead, I
fell in love and we were married for 47
years.”
In less than two years, WASP flew
more than 60 million miles for their country
before they were disbanded in 1944, according to
a WASP Web site. They flew every kind of
non-combat mission the Air Force had and 39 of
them made the ultimate sacrifice.
“At
hundreds of air bases all over America, the WASP
hung up their Army parachutes for the last time,
packed their bags and paid their way back home,”
said Ms. Parrish, who never even held rank.
“There were no GI benefits, no fringe benefits,
and no dress parades -- just the satisfaction of
knowing they had done their duty and they had
completed their mission.”
That same
motivation and determination is still in the
WASP. By meeting one of them, the feeling can
get contagious, said Nancy, Ms. Parrish’s
daughter, who stopped working to help her mother
build a WASP museum and plan a memorial for
their World War II service in the area where
they trained.
“They make you believe you
can do anything,” said Nancy Parrish, who has
attended WASP conferences and conducted
interviews with her mother. “That message and
the lives they led inspire me.”
“Looking
back, I see it was risky,” Ms. Parrish said. “It
was absolutely dangerous. But at the time, you
just assumed everyone takes risks and you had
faith.”
While she and other WASP were
training they couldn’t even write home about
their experiences because the program was an
experiment and revealing any information on it
could jeopardize it.
Ms. Parrish’s
parents understood the need to be patriotic and
provided support, just like many others from the
“greatest generation.”
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