Rex is a tiny old man with thinning white hair, thick rimed glasses. He is probably the least imposing man that could work as a security guard at my school. I've heard that he's kind of old and kind of incompetent. I've also heard that he flew in World War II. Being the nosy person that I am, especially when it's as cool as being a World War II pilot, I went and asked him about it.
He got a little smile on his face and a little gleam in his eye. He then got somber. He told me that he didn't talk about it much. When he got together with some of the old timers they would talk but mostly about some of the times that they got drunk, things of the sort. Ol' Rex would go to his home town and look for the new names added to the WWII wall there to see which friends had passed away. For not wanting to talk about it Rex continued "One day we went to the firing range and I saw a guy shooting clay pigeons. I went over there and asked what he was doing. He told me that he was practicing to be a gunner on a plane. He asked if I wanted a shot and I said ya. I shot a few and then the next day we were lining up and they pulled me out. They told me I did pretty good. I was shipped off to England." Rex flew missions over Germany. He recounted a time when he went to musuem and started telling his daughters about the old 17's he used to fly in. People started to gather around to listen. When Rex saw the 50 calibre that he used to fire he broke down in tears. "That was the best gun ever made. It didn't give me no problems."
I told Rex that as an American I thanked him for doing what did. This little old man took a different form. He was no longer this little old veteran that honored my school by being there.
Later, I said good bye to Ol' Rex as he slowly walked out the door to go home for the day. As slow as he moved he seemed to have a little extra spring in his step.
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