Frank Elliott Walker

West Point, 1951

Be Thou At Peace

Posted by Jose Andres "Andy" Chacon on November 14, 2004:

Frank Elliott Walker, Jr. Born August 19, 1928 - Died January 21, 1953 His first airplane ride was from the old Waycross Army Airfield, with a boyhood friend at the controls. On his last flight, an air defense mission over Canada in an F-51 Mustang, he was the pilot, and he was alone. The dream that very likely began on that hot summer day in south Georgia had been fulfilled. Frank Elliott Walker, Jr. was born 19 August 1928, in Waycross, Georgia, second of three children of Frank Sr. and Berti Lee Walker. It was in Elliston's Drug Store in Waycross that mischievous Frank Walker and a fellow conspirator hatched the plot to scare the daylights out of a postman friend. They dropped a small rat snake into the mail drop-box in front of the store. When the reptile crawled up the mailman's arm, he was predictably startled and kicked over his bike with the mail bag attached. Frank and his friend did the gentlemanly thing; they helped gather the scattered mail. Frank's Aunt Myrtle was aware of her nephew's impishness. She recalls that he "always had a little twinkle in his eyes, as though he was amused." That twinkle shows in Frank's Howitzer photograph. Frank's sister Lily Gibson of Jacksonville, Florida remembers that her younger brother "saw good in everything and everyone." She adds, "He was very adventurous, almost to the point of being quite daring. He wanted to do everything. He always wanted to go to Canada, and I find it ironic that he died there." Frank's early life was more than school and mischief. He was an Eagle Scout; he fished, hunted, and camped with his brother, father and friends; and he loved automobiles and motorcycles. Frank was determined to attend West Point. Major General Clyde Spence, a schoolmate at Alabama's Marion Military Institute, said of Frank, "Spending two additional years in college prepping for the Academy is certainly an indicator of his strong desire to be a professional officer. Spence described Frank as a "tall, handsome young man with blond hair, a ready smile, and winsome ways. He was soft spoken and quiet mannered, yet determined in whatever he did." At Marion, Frank concentrated on academy prep courses and was a staff sergeant and B-squad football player. The Howitzer says Frank had an "easygoing manner," but he also had "a multitude of friends, and determination to succeed." His roommate, Charlie Witmer, recalls "there was a great deal of 'Southern education' Frank felt he needed to impart to his yearling roommates," both from the North. When Charlie's mother was with her son and Frank for dinner at the Thayer, Mrs Witmer asked Frank to define grits. "Grits is grits," was Frank's definitive reply. French was the only subject with which Frank had mild academic trouble. The frustrated linguist asked, "How could the French speak like that? It isn't natural." While training at Moultrie and Reese Air Force Bases, Frank made several trips home to hunt and fish with his father and brother. On one such trip he took West Point and flying school classmate George Shibata, an ex-paratrooper of Japanese descent with him. Having grown up in the segregated South, Frank must have had an inkling of what the reaction to George would be in some quarters. Nonetheless, he was put off by the difficulty he had in finding dates for his friend. Frank accepted people for what they were and tolerated no unfairness. George Shibata visited the Walker family several times after Frank's death. From advanced flying school Frank wrote to Bob Volk, for whom he had served as best man, "You can see I got through Basic OK. As a matter of fact, I got pretty hot toward the end. I used to fly over Waycross every day and put on an air show for the folks around there." Frank Walker was perfectly at ease with the ladies, and he made them feel at ease, too. Bob Volk said, "He laughed at every-thing, including himself." This made everyone, male and female, comfortable in Frank's company. "Regardless of all the belles, gals, ladies, or whatever that he squired around from Texas to Vermont or Georgia to New York, his one and only was a certain miss from South Georgia named Faye. None of them could ever measure up to her." From flying school, Frank wrote, "My brother Hamp is First Captain at the Citadel this year; I'm sure proud of him." Two months before his death, Frank spoke of air defense duties with the 37th Fighter Interceptor Squadron in Burlington, Vermont: "We stand by on a five minute alert every minute of every hour of every day of every week of every month of every year." In Witmer's words, "Frank had several passions, he was true to himself, true to his friends, true 'to the South' and true to the Duty, Honor, Country of West Point. jac; 18316, wc 850

admin