In an advance celebration of this year’s Veterans Day, the Palm Theatre is screening Memphis Belle on November 9 at 4 p.m., with admission free for veterans.
The 1990 film directed by Michael Caton-Jones is fiction, but its inspiration was Hollywood director William Wyler’s 1944 documentary about another Memphis Belle, The Memphis Belle: A Story of a Flying Fortress. It starred an air crew about to complete its 25th, and last, combat mission over Europe.
The fictional Memphis Belle features moments of sheer terror. One by one, the audience meets each crewman, from the stolid pilot (Matthew Modine), to the gunners, to their commander (David Strathairn) back at the airfield, pacing the control tower, waiting tensely for his squadron to come home. It’s the Belle’s last mission.
The commander is dealing with the cluelessness of an Army public relations officer (John Lithgow), eager to make a name for himself. The film includes stunning sequences: a line of planes, with heat rising from the tarmac, each waiting its turn to take off, and a terrifying near-collision in the air. But it also communicates incredible tension among those waiting on the ground.
I will be introducing the film and talking about the documentary and the experiences of local World War II veterans on November 2. One such World War II aviator, Bob Dwight (1924-2017), retired to San Luis Obispo and is described in my book Central Coast Aviators in World War II.
Dwight, a young B-17 co-pilot, was returning to his seat when a flak burst hit his plane. The artillery round’s detonation threw him into the cabin’s ceiling and then he fell into the compartment below the pilots. He lost consciousness and fell out of the nose. The bomber had been flying at 20,000 feet; he came to and pulled his parachute’s ripcord at about 7,000 feet. He only found out later that after his plane went down he and the navigator were the only survivors of the 11-man crew.
In great pain—hitting the cabin ceiling had broken his shoulder—Dwight started walking west, toward Holland. His escape lasted only about 24 hours. He was found by a German officer who called out, not unpleasantly, “Hello! We have been looking for you!”
I also plan to share a brief, touching passage from my book about the most famous member of the documentary’s Memphis Belle. Its pilot, James Varinis, was on leave in London when a Scottish Terrier puppy in a pet shop window interrupted his life. She became Stuka, named after a German dive bomber, and a lively friend to Varinas and his crew. She later became a Yank, accompanying Varinas home to Connecticut and to War Bond drives on the chicken-and-peas circuit.
General admission for the screening of Memphis Belle on November 9 is $9, but admission is free for veterans.