“The barrage was so intense that the daylight disappeared and it was as if someone had cut out the sun.”

These are the words of Robert Reichard taken from the introduction of his book, titled, “One Soldier’s Story.” He describes one of 24 missions he experienced as a B24 bombardier just before he dropped bombs over German occupied Italy during WWII.

High in the sky

Growing up as the youngest of three sons born to George and Blanche Reichard, who had moved the family from their farm in Lehighton, Robert was born in a house in Lansford on Aug. 15, 1924 when the laws of the town were enforced by a mayor, a constable and a policeman or two.

He enjoyed hunting with his father, especially groundhogs that often became dinner table meals during the Great Depression of the 1930s.

An interest to sprout his wings came at an early stage of his life.

“I flew solo in a plane when I was just 17,” he said “and I enlisted in the Army airborne a year later rather than wait to be drafted.”

Once training was completed, Reichard was on a ship to Italy through enemy waters during the war in Europe. He was the “hot shellman,” responsible for defending the ship against German submarine attacks. Two ships in his convoy were sunk. Once safely ashore, he became a bombardier and a navigator for 24 B-24 aircraft missions dropping bombs on six countries: Italy, Poland, Germany, Austria, Yugoslavia, and Czechoslovakia, all before he reached 25 years of age. His brush with death was both often and frightening.

“We flew in formations of four squadrons of seven planes,” he said. “When we saw the black smoke that meant planes were going down. I had two close escapes from death. Once the automatic bomb doors would not open and I had to grab an oxygen tank and without a parachute, I had to hang outside the plane in full flight to manually open the doors.

“Another time we took on machine-gun fire and a piece of shrapnel nearly hit me in my head that probably would have killed me. We had to make an emergency landing on a remote island that was set up with what they called a crash airstrip. Our engines were on fire and we had lost our brakes so we repositioned parachutes to both sides of the pale to slow us down and bring us to a stop on the runway.”

During his flight missions, he and his crew were not allowed to carry side arm weapons just in case they had to evacuate the aircraft. They were told that if they parachuted across enemy lines, they would be less likely to be shot if they were unarmed and just kept as prisoners of war.

To serve again

When the war ended, Reichard came home to a civilian life and with virtually no resume to land a career job so he worked 12-hour hard labor shifts for low wages.

“Then I became a police officer and I dealt with gun and domestic violence.”

In 1950, he re-enlisted in the Army and was on his way to fight in the Korean War where he had to tolerate weather temperatures well below zero.

One day, he had come upon dead Chinese soldiers and when out of respect for the dead, he shot wild dogs to death to stop the animals from feeding on the bodies.

Reichard’s vast experience brought him to another prestigious position.

“I was selected as one of the ‘Chosen Few’ and assigned to the 1st Marine Division at Hamhung, North Korea in 1950.”

He then was chosen to be a security guard for General MacArthur during the general’s visit to Korea in 1951. He became a counterintelligence officer and the only American military police officer to fly over North Korea’s capitol on a photo recon mission.

Duties and decorations expanded Reichard’s storied service to his country.

In 1957, he was a paratrooper who made jumps in Germany.

Back in the states during the Cold War, he was in charge of security at the underground of the Pentagon.

Among his honorable moments were being named an honorary first sergeant of the Allied Tactical Air Force, awarded the Legion of Merit for noncommissioned officers and awarded the Air and Army medals with Oak Leaf Clusters in tribute to his impeccable service records.

The quiet life

Living a full century of life, Reichard has witnessed the technological progress that has evolved into modern living. As a child, he saw the basic method of transportation evolved from horse to automobile. He recently passed a physical exam that extended his driver’s license for another three years.

“I drive to the grocery store on Mondays and run a few errands on Wednesday. I am grateful after I come home that no one hit me,” he said with a laugh. “At my age, if I get into an accident, even if I’m in the right, they will say I was wrong.”

After his wife passed away 10 years ago, he sold his collection of firearms and began collecting LED flashlights of all shapes and sizes.

He lives a solitary quiet life in Andreas and follows a rigid daily schedule, feeding his cats at certain time in the morning and completing all his tasks by early afternoon.

By 1 p.m., he calls it a day and if someone wants to see or speak with him, the next morning is open to his social calendar.

His keys to living a long life are simple.

“I used to smoke three packs of cigarettes a day when I was in the Army, but I quit and I don’t go to the American Legion or VFW to drink. Other than that, I can’t tell you why I’m still here.”

Robert Reichard is “still here” as one of only a few veterans of the 16 million American soldiers who served in World War II.

As he celebrates his 100th birthday and shares his contributions made to help preserve freedom for the people of Red, White, and Blue, his life of service and the gift of his legacy is, in his own words, just “One Soldier’s Story” of the many that veterans have to tell.

Editor’s Note: Reichard’s book can be read online at “One Soldier’s Story.”