Flt/Lt
Guy A. Wood, Jr. (Woody) 1917 – 1987
Guy (known as “Woody”
to his friends) was born in Detroit, Michigan on January 25, 1917 and
raised in Ann Arbor, Michigan. He graduated from Ann Arbor High
School in 1936 and was attending the University of Michigan studying
engineering when World War II broke out. He said that he felt it was
just a matter of time before the US would enter the war, and he
wanted to become a fighter pilot. He first joined the Navy at the
Naval Air Station in Grosse Isle, Michigan in 1941. After his flight
instructor told him he would “never become a pilot,’ he
managed to unenlist and immediately went across the Detroit River to
Windsor, Ontario where he joined the RCAF. He earned his wings
Dunville, Ontario, Canada on December 5, 1941 and was commissioned as
a Pilot Officer (P/O). By the summer of 1942 he was in Egypt as a
fighter pilot with the 417 “City of Windsor” Squadron.
While
attached to the 417 Squadron, he said he first flew Hurricanes, but
later flew Spitfires almost exclusively. It was the Spitfire that he
talked of most often. When relating war stories, he spoke fondly of
the Spitfire’s handling and speed. He was equally impressed by
the German ME 109. He had a chance to fly captured Messerschmitt's
and Focke Wulf’s, and so could assess their capabilities first
hand. He was not too impressed with the fighters the Yanks brought
to North Africa—he preferred the Spitfire.
Most of his flying
seemed to involve routine patrols, photo recon, and fighter escort
duties. While on these patrols, they would sometimes attack enemy
convoys, troop encampments, railroad locomotives, gun emplacements,
etc. with their machine guns and 20 mm canons (“We only had a
ten second burst on the machine guns.”) At times they would
sometimes encounter enemy bombers or fighters and a dog fight would
begin if they could set up an ambush. If they were unlucky, they
would be ambushed themselves by ME 109’s coming down on top of
them out of the sun or from the clouds. He said they knew they were
in for action when they would hear “Achtung! Achtung! Spitfire!
Spitfire!” over the radio. Many British and German pilots did
not return to base after these encounters in the skies over Africa.
Guy crash-landed one of “his Majesty’s aircraft”
while attempting a landing at a desert air strip. “We had to
land quickly—less vulnerable to attack that way—and there
was no windsock up. I was unlucky and went in nose first.” Guy
summarized his days in Africa as: “chasing—and being
chased—by Rommel all over the North African desert.”
Guy was a test pilot for a time in the RCAF—he said they were testing new Rolls-Royce Merlin engines for the Spitfire. And for an interesting diversion, he was asked to be part of an RAF acrobatic team that went to India to put on air shows for foreign royalty. He recalled putting on a show for the Nizam of Hyderabad [in India] and staying in the royal palace. He was promoted to Flight Lieutenant (Flt/Lt) in 1943.
The boys from the 417th
found fun where they could in camp. My dad always liked to play cards and would
often be found at the poker table. When the Yanks came to North Africa, he said
they came into their camp and offered to show the Brits how to play a “little
game we play called poker.” The boys in the Squadron, all accomplished poker
players, were happy to play along with them and, according to Guy, made a couple
of thousand dollars off of their new friends that night. In Italy, he and some
of his friends had a champagne bath from stores found in the wine cellar of a
villa. He also spoke fondly of the music in camp and remembered bringing a grand
piano back to camp on a flat bed truck—all the while being played by one of the
camp musicians.
While on leave in
Capetown, South Africa, Guy met and married his wife, Edna A. Smith.
She was a nurse in the hospital where he went for an overnight stay.
They married in 1944 in Capetown, and she followed him to the USA
with their new son after the war. Guy and Edna lived in Ann Arbor,
Michigan with their children most of their lives.
Guy never finished his
degree when he returned from the war—providing for his new
family took precedence. Even though he had been an Eagle Scout in
high school, after the war, he was not interested in camping (“two
years in the desert was enough for me!”), and he never flew a
plane again, though he often flew on commercial airliners for his
work as a field engineer for a steel fabrication company. He
continued enjoying card games (only penny ante, though!) and
conversing with friends throughout his life.
He had a great love of
life and a great sense of humor and is missed by his family.
[Author’s Note:
Guy related many of his war stories to me, his son, over the years.
He spoke fondly of the good times he had with friends in the RCAF and
the adventures they shared. He told his stories of air combat as if
they were all part of a game—almost like playing chess with a
friend. He did not often speak of the tragic scenes he witnessed on
the ground or in the air. He tried to find humor in his war time
experiences, and once he left the RCAF never flew a plane again.]
