ARGarrison
Member
He was born at home in a farm house of rural Indiana, along the tow (mule) path of the old Wabash and Erie canal. His Father was a World War I vet turned tenant farmer. He grew up a farm boy, oldest of six. This was back when horses were as common as tractors for farm work. Where thrashing machines were few and neighbor helped neighbor. He went eleven years to the same township school until his father bought his own farm in 1940. He was up rooted his senior year of high school and moved to the south side of the mighty Wabash river. He graduated high school in 1941 and set out to be farmer. World War II changed his plans.
During the year of 1942 he longed to join up. He wanted to be a Naval Aviator. He'd told his dad he would hold off enlisting until the crops were in that year. The winter of 42 was bad and it wasn't until February of 43 until all the crops were in. By then he had received his draft notice and was selected to join the army. He couldn't get it changed and reluctantly went to Fort Benjamin Harrison. One day while in formation at Fort Harrison they handed out assignments, he was selected to go to the Army Air Force. He had a chance to be a pilot, but years of driving tractors and a genetic hearing problem left him ineligible for any job where he had to use a radio. That meant no flight school.
He's first choice for training was aircraft mechanic, so they sent him to armament school. While there he was trained to strip and reassemble a .50 cal machinegun blind folded. Into his seventies he still said he could probably do that. One of the odd armament he worked on was the T9 37mm cannon that shot through the prop hub of the Bell P-39.
The war in Europe was raging and the US were flying daylight bombing raids taking heavy loses. Men were needed to crew the bombers and he soon found himself in Gunnery School. They started with shotguns, shooting trap trying to teach lead. They moved up to mock aircraft gun turrets shooting at large targets mounted to a Jeep guided by a track. They would take to the air and shot at target gliders pulled by other aircraft. He was placed with a crew on a B-24 Liberator and sent to make them a team. This is where he ran into problems. He became airsick. He could handle the short flights, but the long training flights took their toll. He more than once had to hose the plane out after getting back. He tried motion sickness pills, but it left him to droggy. That would have been a liability to his crew. He lost his flight status from being to air sick to fly.
He went back to working the flight line as an armorer. He went to yet a another school, Flexible turret and found himself sent to Edwards AFB and working the flight line there. Lead crews of the 20th AF headed to the Pacific were his primary customers. They were there for extra training before heading towards Japan. As he was about to follow them overseas he came in with enough points not to have to go. He found himself at Dover AFB, an aircraft armorer at an air base that had only transport planes. He was a man with out a job. He at times found himself watching over German POWs in the motor pool and even working the switch board of all things.
He was honorably discharged in 1946 and turned home to farm once again. He used his GI Bill only to take classes he thought useful to farming. He later married and had children. He lived a simple live he didn't seek out fame or fortune nor did he find it. He wanted to farm and farm he did. From where he lived he had farmed at one time or another all the land, less one field, for as far as the eye could see. Even after "retiring" he still hobby farmed with a six row planter. He custom baled into his late seventies. He had a bad heart, genetic, that done him in, but it was years of hard work that let his last year be one of the roughest. His back was bad. Years of riding old tractors over broken ground and wrestling livestock had taken it's toll.
In his life he had been called many things Son, Brother, Friend, Nephew, Airman, Sergeant, Staff Sergeant, Uncle, Husband, I simply called him Dad.
Ray E. Garrison
May 17, 1923 - October 7, 2006
During the year of 1942 he longed to join up. He wanted to be a Naval Aviator. He'd told his dad he would hold off enlisting until the crops were in that year. The winter of 42 was bad and it wasn't until February of 43 until all the crops were in. By then he had received his draft notice and was selected to join the army. He couldn't get it changed and reluctantly went to Fort Benjamin Harrison. One day while in formation at Fort Harrison they handed out assignments, he was selected to go to the Army Air Force. He had a chance to be a pilot, but years of driving tractors and a genetic hearing problem left him ineligible for any job where he had to use a radio. That meant no flight school.
He's first choice for training was aircraft mechanic, so they sent him to armament school. While there he was trained to strip and reassemble a .50 cal machinegun blind folded. Into his seventies he still said he could probably do that. One of the odd armament he worked on was the T9 37mm cannon that shot through the prop hub of the Bell P-39.
The war in Europe was raging and the US were flying daylight bombing raids taking heavy loses. Men were needed to crew the bombers and he soon found himself in Gunnery School. They started with shotguns, shooting trap trying to teach lead. They moved up to mock aircraft gun turrets shooting at large targets mounted to a Jeep guided by a track. They would take to the air and shot at target gliders pulled by other aircraft. He was placed with a crew on a B-24 Liberator and sent to make them a team. This is where he ran into problems. He became airsick. He could handle the short flights, but the long training flights took their toll. He more than once had to hose the plane out after getting back. He tried motion sickness pills, but it left him to droggy. That would have been a liability to his crew. He lost his flight status from being to air sick to fly.
He went back to working the flight line as an armorer. He went to yet a another school, Flexible turret and found himself sent to Edwards AFB and working the flight line there. Lead crews of the 20th AF headed to the Pacific were his primary customers. They were there for extra training before heading towards Japan. As he was about to follow them overseas he came in with enough points not to have to go. He found himself at Dover AFB, an aircraft armorer at an air base that had only transport planes. He was a man with out a job. He at times found himself watching over German POWs in the motor pool and even working the switch board of all things.
He was honorably discharged in 1946 and turned home to farm once again. He used his GI Bill only to take classes he thought useful to farming. He later married and had children. He lived a simple live he didn't seek out fame or fortune nor did he find it. He wanted to farm and farm he did. From where he lived he had farmed at one time or another all the land, less one field, for as far as the eye could see. Even after "retiring" he still hobby farmed with a six row planter. He custom baled into his late seventies. He had a bad heart, genetic, that done him in, but it was years of hard work that let his last year be one of the roughest. His back was bad. Years of riding old tractors over broken ground and wrestling livestock had taken it's toll.
In his life he had been called many things Son, Brother, Friend, Nephew, Airman, Sergeant, Staff Sergeant, Uncle, Husband, I simply called him Dad.
Ray E. Garrison
May 17, 1923 - October 7, 2006
