IP finds link to past at Columbus AFB Published May 21, 2015 By 2nd Lt. Lauren Woods 14th Flying Training Wing Public Affairs COLUMBUS AIR FORCE BASE, Miss. -- In the hustle of day-to-day life, it is sometimes easy to forget the depth of history surrounding us every day as both Airmen and citizens. Memorial Day is a chance to remember this history and the sacrifice of those who paved the way for our future. Here in Columbus, Mississippi, often considered the birthplace of the Memorial Day tradition, there is special value to taking time to reflect and honor the past. However for one family at Columbus Air Force Base, the past is more than just history; it's part of their heritage. Capt. Daniel Bloom, a KC-135 pilot, arrived at Columbus AFB in July 2012 to take up an assignment as a T-6 instructor, only to discover his new assignment was the same place where his great-uncle had trained and flown. He'd known his great-uncle, Charles L. Wiley, was a pilot, Bloom explained, but after his aunt sent him letters Wiley had written during pilot training, he saw 'Columbus Army Air Field' on the letterhead and realized it was the same place he was now stationed. "[Wiley] was talking about how he was at Columbus, doing pilot training," Bloom said. "It was cool to read the letters and read about what he thought of pilot training in the 1940s." The letters, carefully compiled by family, portray a young man excited to take to the skies. "Flying is really great," Wiley wrote to his sister, Ruth, "and I'm going to try and keep up with it somehow after the war." This was 1943, one year after Columbus Army Flying School began its first training class, and two years before the end of World War II. Pilot training in 1943 bore much similarity to the training performed today, but back then instead of T-6s and T-38s in the sky, the air above Columbus Army Flying School was dotted with AT-10s, AT-9s, and AT-8s. Wiley flew on these trainers before graduating to his final airframe of B-24 bombers. According to Carol Gifford, Wiley's niece and Bloom's mother, Wiley had a perfect record of flying B-24 bombing missions. Gifford estimates he flew 50 sorties or more while stationed in India. Even in the midst of the war, his attitude remained positive. "I've been in a good mood lately, as I've been flying a lot," he wrote in a letter dated Jan. 15, 1945. This perfect record would continue up until his very last mission. "It was a mission he didn't have to fly. He had completed all his required missions with his squadron and was packing up to go home when he volunteered to fly one last mission," Gifford said. "He wasn't with his regular crew. His plane was hit by anti-aircraft fire that took out one of the engines. He went down in the dense jungle of Burma." According to Gifford, days of searching yielded no trace of either aircraft or crew. All aboard were declared MIA, and a year later announced dead. It wasn't until Gifford began digging that the truth was revealed. Wiley, along with his crew, had been captured and handed over to the Japanese, where they were tortured and killed. Their remains, according to newly-declassified documents uncovered by Gifford, were thought to be cremated. History, however, lives on. Four months after arriving in Columbus, Bloom's son was born, and was named after his great-uncle: Benjamin Charles Bloom. In a strange coincidence, the date on the letter Wiley wrote, Nov. 28, is the same date Bloom's son was born. That letter now hangs on the wall in Benjamin's room, along with a photograph of Wiley and his crew. "I'll tell my son about it when he gets old enough to understand," Bloom said. "I knew I wanted to name my son after [Wiley], because he was a pilot and I was a pilot, and we're the only two who flew in the military in my family." When asked if he wanted his son to continue the tradition, Bloom laughed. "I want him to do whatever he wants," he said. "He's only two, after all. But if he chose to fly for the military? That would be cool."
