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OSAN AIR BASE, South Korea - Like a lot of boys growing up in the
'60s and '70s, Chris Balcom liked to watch TV. He could often be
found on the couch, eyes sewn to the screen. While watching, Chris
was attentive, fixated even, to what transpired in front of him. A
parade of faces graced the edges of the screen, emerging for a
moment before departing. He was watching TV like other children, but
Chris wasn't watching passively, or for joy or entertainment. There
was nothing frivolous about his gaze. As he watched, his heart
wrenched. Noting each departing face on the screen, his hope would
fade. Renew again with another face. Then fade. Chris was watching
the repatriation of American prisoners of war and missing in action,
looking for his father.
On May 15, 1966, at 9:50 a.m., Capt.
Ralph Balcom's plane was seen ascending into the clouds about 10
miles southwest of Dong Hoi, Vietnam. Afterward, Ralph lost voice
contact with his flight, and didn't return to base by the time his
F-105 Thud's fuel should have run out. When a search and recovery
party found no trace of Ralph or his plane, he was declared missing.
Serving in Vietnam as a pilot for the 421st Tactical Fighter
Squadron, Ralph, promoted to colonel while missing, left behind his
wife, Marian, their 7-year-old daughter, Tracy, and 4-year-old son,
Chris.
More than 47 years have passed. Marian remarried,
Tracy is 54, and Chris, 51, has three children of his own, but the
Balcoms still await the return of their hero. Suffering with the
burden of this sacrifice for four decades, a recent gesture has
shown the Balcoms they're not alone, and will always be part of the
military family.
It was coincidence that Ralph's old unit,
now the 421st Fighter Squadron, stationed at Hill Air Force Base,
Utah, and Marine Corps Cpl. Jake Balcom, Chris's son, stationed in
Hawaii, would be deployed to Korea at the same time. When Lt. Col.
David Shoemaker, 421st FS commander, heard the grandson of a fallen
Black Widow (the squadron's moniker) was going to be in the area, he
worked fast to get a chance for Jake to get a tour of the squadron's
deployed station at Osan Air Base. Jake spent March 25-26, 2014, at
Osan AB with his grandfather's unit.
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Marine Corps Cpl. Jake Balcom talks to
Capt. Jay Doerfler, 421st Fighter Squadron chief of training, while
touring the 421st FS March 26, 2014, at Osan Air Base, Republic of
Korea. Balcom's grandfather, Col. Ralph Balcom (bottom right
corner), served with the 421st during Vietnam in 1965-1966, before
being declared missing in action. (USA Patriotism! inserted Ralph
Balcom's image to the U.S. Air Force photo by Staff Sgt. Jake
Barreiro)
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"It was a no-brainer to try to get Jake out here," said
Shoemaker. "It means everything to us. This is important.
Our heritage, our legacy and taking care of families, that's
what our unit and the military is about."
As
commander of a decorated fighter squadron, Shoemaker stays
in contact with multiple families of fallen 421st Airmen
from the Vietnam era, but first got a hold of Chris and Tracy
about a year ago. Since then, the two stay in contact
regularly through phone calls and email. For the Balcoms,
this came as a welcome relief, showing them people remember
Ralph's sacrifice.
"We thought we were the only ones
who remembered him," said Chris. "To find out that Lt. Col.
Shoemaker and the 421st remember and honor him made my whole
family happy. We are so grateful that they respect the
sacrifice of their fallen brother. It's a truly noble thing
they're doing by honoring his legacy."
Deployed with
his squadron since January, Shoemaker learned about Jake
being in Korea from Chris, and quickly got ahold of Jake's
leadership to arrange a visit.
Jake, a 21-year-old
field artillery cannoneer, said he knew nothing about the
arrangement until, after completing a six-hour convoy, he
was called into his first sergeant's office, only knowing
"the first sergeant wants to see you right now."
Like
any seasoned Marine, Jake said he assumed an ASAP summons to
the first sergeant meant trouble, but was shocked to hear he
would be going to see his grandfather's old squadron.
"Words can't describe how excited I was to hear that,"
he said. "My grandfather's life, and what he did, has been a
huge part of our lives. I'm incredibly honored that the
421st reached out and wanted to meet me."
It's an
honor not lost on Jake's family either.
"Since the
end of the war, we've had no contact with anyone who knew my
father," said Chris, a property and insurance claims
representative in Madera Ranchos, Calif. "We carried his
memory and honored him within our family. We had no idea it
was reciprocated by the squadron until now. It's like a gift
to us, and we find it comforting to know that we were not
alone in this after all. It's my father's last squadron so
it will always be a special place for us. That the legacy of
my father lives in the squadron today is amazing."
For the visit, Jake was given a comprehensive tour of the
421st's operations and shown several aircraft including the
U2, A-10 and F-16. While the airplanes were amazing, and
something he'll never forget, Jake said the real highlight
of his stay was the people of the 421st, who treated him
like family.
"I'm impressed," said Jake. "All of
them, from the commander, to the pilots, to the enlisted,
when they saw me, they stopped whatever they were doing and
showed a genuine interest in me and my family."
Initially, Jake was unsure of what to expect, and felt
nervous about spending time with strangers whose only
connection to him was his grandfather's Vietnam service, but
after his trip, Jake said he feels like a member of the
Black Widow family.
"What amazed me was I didn't
think people out there cared like I did, like my family
did," said Jake. "The fact that other people do and are
genuinely interested in my family's history is amazing. It
means everything to us."
Having the chance to honor
the service of a fallen brother is important to Shoemaker
and the 421st because of the unit's tradition and legacy.
Their squadron greeting, used on the radio and in formal
settings, is "Sawadee," a traditional Thai greeting and
farewell, that stems from the squadron's old station at
Korat Royal Thai Air Force Base, Thailand, during the
Vietnam War and can be seen on the left arm or pen pocket of
their flight suits. When Shoemaker talks to the families of
the Vietnam era who have missing or fallen loved ones like
the Balcoms, he wants the families to know they have support
and family in the 421st.
"There's a list that comes
out with the names of POW/MIAs who'll be returned home, and
every time this list is released there are families waiting
nervously to see the name of their loved one," said
Shoemaker. "Every time that doesn't happen it's absolutely
heartbreaking. We do our best to make sure we take care of
these families any way we can, to help them see the day when
their loved ones are returned with full military honors. "
Chris, who was too young to have any clear memories of
his father, was close with his uncles growing up. Bruce, his
father's older brother, has been deceased for nearly 15
years, but he hopes for the sake of his mother and his
father's younger brother, Keith, who was also an Air Force
pilot, that his father will soon be buried in American soil.
"I very much hope Keith and my mother get to see my
father return home," said Chris. "We would like to have his
remains buried in Arlington."
The list of returning
POW/MIAs was previously compiled and released by the Joint
POW/MIA Account Command, a Department of Defense joint task
force established in 1973. However, on March 31, Defense
Secretary Chuck Hagel announced changes to the process of
identifying and recovering the remains of missing U.S.
service members. Changes include combining the two offices
in order to improve the search, identification and recovery
process, as well as providing families with a single point
of contact for information about these activities.
Chris and the rest of the Balcoms have endured 47 years of
disappointment and heartbreak, waiting anxiously for the day
they hear of Ralph's return. For them, changes like those
announced March 31 bring what Chris calls "measured
hopefulness" of what will never be a true happy ending, but
needed resolution nonetheless.
"The worst part
(growing up) was the uncertainty," said Chris. "Was he alive
or dead? If he was alive, what hell on earth was he
enduring? Would we ever see him again? Nobody can really
understand what this is like unless they've lived it. It's a
wound that will never heal."
Too young to remember
his father before he left for war, Chris remembers watching
the repatriation of American POWs on TV, anxiously waiting
to see his father's face.
"One of the worst days of
my life was Feb. 12, 1973, Operation Homecoming," said
Chris. "When the Hanoi POWs came home, watching each man
walk down the stairs off the plane, straining to see his
face, hoping against hope that my father would be next, but
it never came to be. For seven years we lived with not
knowing if he was alive or dead. He was lost on May 15,
1966, but to us, he died Feb. 12, 1973."
Ralph's
legacy has left an inexorable imprint on the Balcoms, even
shaping career choices. Chris, a life-long aviation
enthusiast, said he might have considered a career in the
military had he not lost his father.
"Sometimes I
think back and wonder how my mom managed to cope with the
loss and uncertainty of her husband's fate while raising two
children on her own, and trying to keep as normal a life as
possible," said Chris. "I would have liked to have chosen a
military career, but doing so would have crushed her."
The influence of Ralph's sacrifice extends to his unseen
grandchildren as well. Jake, who wears a POW/MIA bracelet
with his grandfather's name on it, said he learned early in
life about Ralph's service.
"My dad used to have two
flight suits in his closet, a big one and small one," said
Jake. "I used to go in there and put the small one on. The
small one was given to my dad from my grandfather. I was 4
years old and that's when I began to understand the history
of what he did in Vietnam and what it meant."
Chris
remembers the flight suits too, and that his father left for
war the day after his third birthday.
"My father made
me an exact duplicate of his flight suit, made to fit a
3-year-old," said Chris. "It's blue with all the zippers, a
421st squadron patch, an F-105 patch, even first lieutenant
bars on the shoulders. I wore it a few times, and it's a
keepsake that will stay with me forever. It's a permanent
reminder of him and what he loved to do. It's a tangible
link to him when everything else we have of him is
intangible."
That link provides a reminder of Ralph's
service and sacrifice, not just platitudes to the Balcoms,
but words they're intimately acquainted with.
Jake,
insisting he's no hero and would never claim anything like
"carrying on the legacy" of a hero like Ralph, does feel
strongly obligated to serve others, sees nobility in
sacrifice, and said he knows his grandfather would be happy
he joined the Marines.
Chris, who regards his own
son's service with pride but trepidation, said it's
important for people to remember that POW/MIAs, like Army
Sgt. Bowe Bergdahl, currently prisoner of the Afghan
Taliban, aren't just statistics.
"When we hear of a
casualty lost in the war on terrorism such as in Iraq or
Afghanistan, it comes through the media as just another
number," said Chris. "But we know, for each one there is a
family that is suffering. It's not just the soldier who is
affected. Those families will never be the same. Because of
our loss, we can empathize with them in a way others can't.
I want people to know that the MIAs are not forgotten. We
still remember. "
At the end of his visit, the 421st
remembered Ralph by taking Jake to their common dining spot
off base, Sawadee's Thai Food. At the dinner, Shoemaker
toasted to Ralph, something he does regularly with the unit
in remembrance of their fallen brother.
"Ralph Balcom
is the kind of man I want all my guys to be like, the kind
of man I want to be like," said Shoemaker during the toast.
"This hits so close to home with us because we know that
could have been any of us up there. But this is a family,
and if you don't take care of your family, then what is the
rest of it for?"
"Sawadee," he said as he raised his
glass. "Sawadee," the room replied in unison.
As a
young boy, Chris continued watching the repatriation of
American POW/MIAs every chance he got. With each passing
face, identified as only someone other than his father,
other families, other wives, other daughters, sons and
grandchildren rejoiced, but Chris' hopes waned. One day,
crestfallen, Chris gave up watching. The heart could only
endure so much grief and suffering.
"There really is
no way of describing to someone how this makes you feel,"
said Chris. "There is no finality. The uncertainty is a
constant source of pain. When I was young, I hoped he was
alive and would come home. As I got older, I realized this
was not going to happen. I live every day not knowing what
really happened to my father."
Yet, over the years,
Chris and his family have found their strength renewed in
other ways. While they continue to suffer disappointment,
they see hope in the legacy of a man they loved and the
sacrifice he made. Even small gestures, like the kindness,
respect and appreciation shown by the 421st FS, reminds them
that people in the world care, and that, while they may have
to suffer, they will not have to suffer alone.
By U.S. Air Force Staff Sgt. Jake Barreiro
Provided
through DVIDS
Copyright 2014
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