Mr. Write's Page

It’s a small world.

Bill and David Councill, brothers from Pennsylvania, were of my dad’s generation. They were young men when World War II began, and like my dad, they volunteered for military service. All three joined the Army Air Corps.

The Councills and the Smiths first crossed paths in 1943 in Clovis, New Mexico. Dad was sent to Clovis for flight training, and he was assigned to the same unit as David Councill.

Mom and I were there, too. During the time we lived in Clovis, I was less than a year old.

Years later, Dad told me that he remembered David, but had not met him or ever talked to him. Within a month or so, the two of them were reassigned to other bases, and that was that.

The early war years were hectic for military men. They were transferred constantly; it was the norm to get a new duty assignment every few months. It was during that time that Dad met David’s brother Bill.

Dad and Bill seemed to meet up all the time. Over the next decade plus, they were assigned to the same air base twice, and they bumped into each other periodically while traveling.

Dad said their relationship was cordial and professional. He described it as a business friendship. Life in the military, Dad said, consisted of a web of such relationships — hundreds of them, some brief, some lasting for decades.

David, sadly, did not survive the war. He died in a plane crash in the Atlas Mountains in North Africa. David’s widow returned to Clovis to raise their daughter among family.

Bill Councill and my Dad did come home. Both remained in the Air Force. Both had long and successful careers as pilots.

They remained professional friends over the years. Dad said they encountered each other occasionally at meetings and conferences, and several times, they arrived at the same airbase to refuel. Each time, they would catch up on the news, shake hands, and go their separate ways.

Sometime in the late 1950s, Bill passed away. I don’t remember the cause. Cancer, a stroke, a heart attack. He was only in his 40s.

In 1964, I graduated from college and entered the Air Force myself. When my active duty orders arrived, I couldn’t believe it. My first duty assignment was Cannon Air Force Base, Clovis, New Mexico. Dad was delighted.

Now, up until that time, I hadn’t heard of the Councill brothers. Dad never had reason to mention them. They were business acquaintances, part of Dad’s professional life, unrelated to the world where his family resided.

But then I reported for duty in Clovis.

And after a while, coincidentally, I met David Councill’s daughter Deanna.

And time passed, and eventually, we got married.

It’s a small world.

Me in Clovis, summer of 1943.

Rocky and Deanna, wedding day, December 1967.