Tuskegee Airmen look back on life in a segregated military

By Travis Reed  Associated Press

ORLANDO, Fla. (AP) — Even though they were treated like second-class citizens as black pilots in a segregated military during World War II, the Tuskegee Airmen proved their mettle in the skies.

The airmen never lost a plane under escort to enemy fighters, developing such a reputation that some German pilots stopped pursuing American planes they knew would be escorted by the scrappy airmen.

Sixty years later, few are still alive. About 80 airmen are gathering in Orlando this week for the group's 34th annual convention, which unites the decorated soldiers with each other and younger black military pilots for a week of story-swapping and revelry.

The Tuskegee Airmen were the first group of black fighter pilots allowed into the U.S. Army Air Corps. Even after they were admitted, though, many commanders still didn't believe they had the intelligence or dexterity to become pilots.

"Failure was not an option. If the experiment had failed, it would have proven their point," said 85-year-old 1st Lt. Wilson Eagleson, one of the airmen.

The airmen were chosen — some without even knowing it — because they scored well on military tests, and most had already taken at least a few years of college. They were given poor equipment and the most dangerous bomber protection assignments by prejudiced overseas commanders. And yet they built a proud, storied squadron that ran circles around other crews above Europe in shiny gray planes with red tails.

Now their faces are lined with age, their voices weaker. But the airmen remain humble and proud of their decorated past — Eagleson has two Purple Hearts — and the brotherhood they share.

No one knows exactly how many Tuskegee Airmen are left, but military officials estimate about 200 of the 1,000 or so men who won their wings at the Alabama air base are still alive, along with countless aircraft maintenance men and other ground crew.

Some of the pilots turned out to be career servicemen despite continued discrimination, while others went into business or got law degrees after the war ended.

"They don't see themselves as heroes. They simply did what needed to be done," said retired Col. Len Nevels, who heads the committee that organized the convention. "Because these guys are so modest about what they did, a lot of people don't even acknowledge it."

Convention attendance has dropped steadily each year as more airmen succumb to age or illness. However, the pilots are doing what they can to preserve the group's legacy, such as offering scholarships and writing books to document their lives.

The airmen talk to kids in schools and offer airplane rides to get them interested in flying. They also meet with young, wide-eyed black pilots who fly the military's planes today — a proud sight for any old soldier.

If asked, the airmen will talk about the racism and bigotry they faced in the military, and how no one thought they were worth anything before they proved they could fly a plane or pack a parachute.

Mostly, though, the accidental celebrities count blessings for what they have achieved.

Eagleson was one of the officers who closed the Tuskegee base after President Truman outlawed segregation in the U.S. military in 1948.

"By that time, most of the pilots in the service knew what we could do and what we had done," Eagleson said. "That was tremendous."