He’d been nurtured well by his mother. He was dressed in what finery they could afford for church, and his father worried that Eb would get dirty again. So he sat Eb at the kitchen table and told him to look out the kitchen window toward the cross on the top of the church. Eb sat and stared at it, yet it never seemed to move. At least, it seemed that way at the time.

But move it did. Eb eventually followed that cross. Oh, he was not to become a minister like his father. Instead, his story started as he sat in a pilot’s airfield coffee shop in Biloxi, MS. It was in the midst of World War II, and Eb explained to his copilot that they were to fly a special mission that day. It was their first run-through of a special flying style. He’d pointed out the window toward the C-47 that sat being fueled. He had kept his eyes on the cross indeed. Eb was a pilot of the Army Air Corps, and he was trained to fly that Red Cross ambulance aircraft close to the ground. It had been planned by the military that he was to ferry wounded troops in that plane.

Sparrow...

 The plane shone a bit with its two rotary engines, even in its dull camouflage paint. Though subtle, it stood out with a new, red cross boldly emblazoned on the side of its fuselage.

 Fly the plane he did, down near tree top levels. The crew flew into China and Burma, flying mission after mission. They’d go through and over the mountains. The craft would carry medical supplies and personnel in; and the wounded GI’s they flew out. Again and again, he risked life and limb by artfully winding his way

For he will give his angels charge of you to guard you in all your ways, lest you dash your foot against a stone. (Psalm 91:12)

Turn about and carry me out of the battle, for I am wounded.”

                                                                                       (1 Kings 22:34)

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