Same wings, same passion - different centuries

  • Published
  • By 2nd Lt. Alexios Gavrilos
  • 71st Flying Training Wing Public Affairs
VANCE AIR FORCE BASE, Okla. --  "My grandfather was a pilot in World War II. He's going to pin on my wings when I graduate pilot training in December," said 2nd Lt. Travis Barry, a T-1A Jayhawk student pilot with Class 14-03 here.

Barry's grandfather, Leon "Lee" Higgins, born in 1923, was a freshman at the University of Maine when World War II broke out. He left college to enlist in the Army Air Force. He wanted to be a fighter pilot.

Like his grandfather, Barry also attended the University of Maine where a buddy of his was commissioned to fly for the Navy. "I pestered him for information until I figured out how to get into Officer Candidate School." Barry went to Pensacola for OCS in the summer of 2007, but was medically discharged when a bout with pneumonia was mistaken for asthma.

Higgins, after successfully navigating a three-month crash-course in physics and math, which was equivalent to a year of college study, enrolled in and completed open-cockpit flight training in Tucson, Ariz., followed by closed-cockpit training in Ontario, Calif. He was 19 years old when he finished pilot training.

Despite a discharge, Barry was not about to throw in the towel. He applied and was accepted to Marine OCS in 2009 and went through their basic course at Quantico, Va. Then his prospects of going to Marine flight school fell through because of a clerical error. "Walking away from a commission in the Marines was one of the hardest things I ever did."

Higgin's first assignment was to remain as a flight instructor, which, while a testament to his skills, was not the assignment he wanted. He joined Air Transport Command in an attempt to log enough hours to be sent to fighter training, and wound up flying C-46s for the rest of the war, transporting congressmen, generals, gold, high value prisoners, and even foreign royalty around the Middle East. His most frequent stops were Cairo, Baghdad and Iran.

Barry earned his private pilot's license on his own time and dollar in October 2010, joined the Maine National Guard, and was accepted to Air Force Pilot Training.

"It was a long, discouraging journey just to get into pilot training, but I couldn't even think of quitting," Barry said. "My grandfather never gave up, and neither could I."

Even though he never did get into fighters, Higgins continued to serve in the Air Force Reserves until his retirement in 1967 at the rank of major.

Barry, currently flying with the 3rd Flying Training Squadron, is the spitting image of his grandfather, and has wanted to fly his entire life.

"I grew up near an airport and my grandfather was always telling me stories. I was surrounded by the idea of aviation," he said. "Every time an aircraft flies over - be it a little prop-job, fighter or huge transport - I always look up. Always."

"Every day I aspire to be like my grandfather - he's such an amazing person. Flying missions in World War II at 19 years old -- can you imagine? They didn't have any of the tech we do now - like navigation, or reliable engines, and none of the training. They had nothing but raw courage and a sense of duty," Barry said.

He always keeps his grandfather's photo with him - then a 19-year old Leon Higgins, fresh out of open-cockpit flight school, wearing a leather helmet and goggles and aviator jacket, grinning from ear to ear. The picture is worn around the edges and faded because Barry has carried it in his chest pocket every time he has flown since Initial Flight Screening in Pueblo, Colo.

Barry is scheduled to graduate with Class 14-03 in December. He will fly KC-135 refueling aircraft for the Maine Air National Guard.

Grandfather Higgins, now past his flying days but still sharp as ever, is planning to attend Barry's graduation ceremony so he can pin wings on his grandson. And not just any wings, but the wings he earned back in 1943. His wings. And his legacy.

There is one specific memory with his grandfather that has pushed him towards becoming a pilot. "He took me up in a Cessna 180 back when I was four or five. I got to sit on his lap."

"There's no way I could ever possibly fill his shoes. But if I live to be one-tenth the man he is, I can be proud of that," said Barry.