The captain told his crew that the flight mission over the French city of Calais would be the most dangerous the men’s B-24 445th bomber squadron had yet faced. The target was the German V-2 rocket production facility, the the place where a radical new high-speed and highly destructive weapon that the Nazi scientists created was produced.

“Fellas,” the captain said, “You are not ordered to go on this mission. To be frank with you, well, we’re not expected to come back. It’s that dangerous. What I’m asking for is volunteers.” The crew of the bomber looked at each other. Then the captain’s co-pilot spoke up. “We’ll all go if you go, sir,” the man said. The captain grinned. He nodded. “We take off at dawn,” he said; he saluted and walked away.

The captain was born in Pennsylvania in 1908. His great-grandfather had fought in the Revolutionary War, and his grandfather had been in the American Civil War. His own dad was a veteran of both the Spanish-American War and World War 1. So, it stood to reason that he would continue the family tradition and serve his country. He’d received a degree in architecture from Princeton University, but, because of the Great Depression, he couldn’t find much work in that field. He managed to get other jobs first in New York City and then in California. It was out west that he learned to fly a plane and received his pilot’s license. He said later that he was inspired, as many were, by people like Eddie Rickenbacker and Charles Lindberg and Amelia Earhart. When World War 2 rolled around, his university degree and his experience as a private pilot gave him a head start in the Army Air Corps (what would become the US Air Force).

The captain knew his men. He had once entered the barracks of the enlisted men and found that they had stolen a beer keg from the officer’s club. Rather than throw the book at them, the captain calmly asked if he could have a glass. The men laughed and gave him a foamy mug of the stuff. As he shared the drink with the men, he casually said, “Say, fellas, the officer’s club is missing a beer keg. You men know anything about that?” The men, eyes wide, looked at each other. Rather than wait for an answer, the captain continued. “Well, I’m sure that whoever took the keg, that it won’t happen again. Thanks for the beer.” He stood up and left. And nothing like that happened again, just as the captain said. And his men loved him.

At the same time, the captain was a taskmaster. He put his crew through their paces, creating emergency scenarios for them as they trained and flew, insuring that the men knew their jobs in any situation. He also asked the men to cross-train to insure that vital jobs could be done in case one crew member was injured or incapacitated. So, he was a man who was tough but fair. The type of man you’d follow anywhere. The type of man you’d volunteer to go on what would essentially be a suicide bombing mission over the French city of Calais.

Over 2,000 aircraft were involved in the important bombing mission, the largest operation up to that time for the 8th Air Force in the war. And the captain’s plane was chosen to lead the raid. Rather than bombing from over 25,000 feet, this mission was to be low-level bombing, under 2,500 feet above the target. That’s what made it so risky and dangerous to the crew. Over 1/3 of the bombers that took off from England on that Christmas Eve, 1943, didn’t come back. But this captain and his crew made it. Their B-24 was shot up pretty badly from German anti-aircraft fire and the bullets from German fighters, but the crew managed to get the plane back home to England in one piece. For his leadership and his bravery in the successful raid, the captain was promoted to major. His skills at preparing his men for battle were also recognized, and he was ordered to become an instructor of other pilots on how to organize their crews and prepare their men for the remaining battles of the war.

After years of service to his country, the captain retired from the US Air Force Reserve with the rank of general in 1968. His son, continuing the family tradition, fought in Vietnam and, sadly, was killed there. The captain died in 1997 and was buried with full military honors, much mourned by friends and family and the public at large, too.

That’s because you know this heroic pilot as the actor, Jimmy Stewart.