Ace Maker

 One of my longest and most persistent Walter Mitty daydreams is to become a pilot. Not just an ordinary single engine Cessna pilot, although that would be awesome, but a full blown military Top Gun aviator tearing up the sky in high performance jet aircraft...Yeah😏 well, that didn't happen...but,  I spent countless hours reading about and watching documentaries about aviation over the years and I am still fascinated by the mystique and drama of military aviation. When the movie Top Gun came out, I guess it was in 1986, I was one of the first in line to watch it and more recently I caught the newest version of Top Gun Maverick. Great movies both of them. That's about as close as I ever came to fulfilling that dream. Seemed there was just never enough resources, never enough time, never enough 'Just do it' attitude. I'm too old now and have come to accept the reality that I will never fulfill that dream, not even piloting a single engine Cessna. But, my fascination with the adventure of flying still resides deep inside and ever so often it gets rekindled back to life.

Here in Bowling Green, Kentucky, we have a wonderful aviation park; Aviation Heritage Park (AHP) ( link below) where several vintage military aircraft are on display. Along with a new museum that is still under construction, it serves as a great family oriented lesson in history. Each of the aircraft and the pilots who flew them have a connection to the community. A few years ago I spent some time photographing some of the airplanes, not just snapshot tourist photographing, but capturing these symbols of heroic action in a way that magnifies their style, performance, history, and nostalgic value.

I do have other posts and YouTube videos outlining the detailed techniques of how these photos were made and processed, so I won't go into detail here, but you can check them out with a simple site search or by clicking on the links below. Instead I'd like to talk about how I created the Ace Maker Poster and in general about the lighting and how it enhanced the subjects.

Ace Maker is one of my favorite photo's from AHP. I especially like the simplicity of the composition which gives it a rather dramatic impact. Technically the aircraft is the T-33 trainer version of the original F-80 Shoot Star jet fighter manufactured by Lockheed. The F-80 was the first operational jet fighter for the American Air Forces and was placed into operation just before the end of WWII. By the time the squadrons were trained and operational, the war had ended, so they never saw combat during that war period, however it did see extensive use during the Korean War. The T-33 version became the standard jet trainer for the military in 1948 and earned the nickname Ace Maker as the first generation of jet pilots earned their place in history flying this amazing aircraft. 

Creating this photo was a bit of challenge as I had to shoot it in layers using remotely fired speed lights, capturing one side then the other, then capturing the front. The wing lights were covered with a red gel and attached to the back of the wings and banged straight down onto the tarmac which reflected the light upwards to illuminate the underside of the wings. That's where the red glow comes from. The aircraft on display sits on its landing gear and there is a display information plaque placed in front of the airplane. The original combined image displayed above on the right, shows how the final lighting configuration setup was completed. To create the Ace Maker poster, I had to remove all the reflected light on the tarmac along with the plaque and landing gear. Doing so gives the airplane a heads up, head-on, highspeed coming at you look.

The Ace Maker  jet fighter is a classic design with classic historical references. Photographing it was a fun challenge as I wanted to create an image with power and style, one that stood apart from the ordinary and takes the viewer back to an earlier historical time when aviators still flew by the seat of their pants.

Aviation Heritage Park

Capturing a Classic Fighter

Shaping Light

A Walk In The Woods: Discovering Visual Moments of the Heart

 There are days when events seem to press heavily upon me. No one is immune from such things. It's just a part of life I suppose and as we grow older the accumulated effects of enduring what at times seems like a never ending stream of pressing moments take a toll on your life. 

As a reult, sometimes I just feel like getting out and taking a walk in the woods. Not nearly often enough do I seek refuge there, but when I do, I rediscover the soothing effects places like woodlands possess. Woodlands, they have become one of my favorite locations to get away and to carry a camera for within them a photographer can discover a myriad of visual moments of the heart. 

It matters not what time of day, kind of day, or time of year, a woodlands will speak far beyond the visual to anyone who enters its realm. 

When light filters through the canopy and sets the leaf edges ablaze with color, or when a morning mist finds its way through the random corridors of trees, who among us can resist taking a moment to just absorb what nature offers. 

As a photographer, I sometimes forget to take those moments of silence to just look. Instead I often get caught up with setting up the shot, working out the exposure values, and checking the results when I should just stop and visually capture what is there. Sort of defeats the purpose of being there when I spend more time looking through the camera instead of observing through the heart. 

There are times I do just that, usually when I don't take my camera along, so I can better focus on the real reason I am there. There have been times I've missed a few camera shots, but they are not lost, really. They are stored in my heart...just for me to enjoy as a memory.

Although I enjoy walking through the woods anytime of year, my favorite is probably fall, especially here in Kentucky. It is during this season the woods come alive with color, and when you catch it all, the light, the color, the mist, the breeze, the reflections, aromas, the feeling, well, it makes being a photographer much easier.

Even a simple nature walk can work wonders, but I really enjoy a longer outing. Sometimes it requires a bit of effort, but I do enjoy making a backpacking trip from time to time during the fall season when the air is cooler, the bothersome bugs are gone, and the colors simply fill your soul. 

Once you've reached your destination and get settled in, it becomes time to just enjoy the moment. A campfire, a one pot meal, then time to expand out on the ground cover of leaves and stretch your back.

Take a moment to gaze upward through the canopy of trees, then just close your eyes and allow the sounds of the woodlands infiltrate deep inside. No finer symphony exists than the movement of the leaves as the breeze searches through their realm high above. On a blue sky day, the contrast of colors produces a no finer work of art. Why don't I do this more often, I ask myself when such moments are allowed to exist for my world. Being retired now, well, there are no more excuses.

Winter of course can be a challenge but it offers a unique opportunity as the light and shadows run deep and long and what is obscured by foliage most of the year suddenly become visible. 

When snow is on the ground the texture and atmosphere of the woodlands transforms into a wonderland. Crisp and clean, fresh and clear, a snow covered woodlands is a delight to explore.

When the snow melts the woods become filled with a damp aroma that clings to everything in sight. At once refreshing and enchanting, and again subtle and bold at the same time. When the woods becomes saturated everything becomes darker in texture and more quiet in atmosphere. The sound of footsteps are muffled, yet the chatter of birds becomes cleaner and magnified. The woods simply takes on a different aura, one that will renew your mind and fill your lungs with fresh air.

It's not always the big scenes that become most important. Often, the smaller more subtle images take center stage. It's the small details that define the woodlands more precisely. 

A single flower, and single brown leaf still clinging to a limb, a clump of snow nestled into a cleft of a branch, the odd green leaf budding from a winters branch, a butterfly sitting lightly on a bloom or a tree stump lying on its side. These are the items that define the depth of a woodlands...and they are easily overlooked.

Woodland edges can also provide a treasure of photo ops. It is there you find a great many plants and wildlife you may not otherwise see. 

The light is often brighter and sharper here but that offers other photo opportunities where plants can be back lit and wildlife feed on the shoots and feel safe having the refuge of the woods nearby. You may also find fencerows or old sheds and barns near the edges of woodlands. All of these make for rustic scenes that enhance the moment.

A walk in the woods to discover a visual moment of the heart can often refill the emptiness that so often infiltrates into our lives. Those emptying events we have little control over, but we can make time to take a walk in the woods.

Take your camera along for the ride and search for those simple compositions that define the woods you are in. But most of all, find time to simply be still and listen to allow the woods to fill your heart with its healing properties.

 

A Memorial Day Tribute: Okinawa Story - One from 'The Greatest Generation'

 April 1st 1945 U.S. Army, Navy, and Marine forces invaded the Japanese Island of Okinawa.  The ensuing struggle became the bloodiest and most difficult battle of the Pacific war.  My dad was there. A few years ago, my brother gave me a call and asked if I would write something about my dad's war time experiences.  A good friend of his, who was the editor of the local newspaper, wanted to print the story as a surprise to my dad and in honor of all those from The Greatest Generation. The following is from that article.

The well known journalist Tom Brokaw once coined the phrase ‘The Greatest Generation’ referring to the young men and women of this country who were thrown into a world conflict in the 1940’s known as The Second World War.  For those who have been counted as such, few would ever acknowledge claim to that title.  For them, well…they simply were doing what they had to do.

One of the great privileges of my life is to have known someone from that generation. A few months prior to the start of the year 2000, I sat down with my dad, Kenneth L. Bridgman of Okmulgee, Oklahoma, with a microphone and tape recorder and for several hours recorded his memories and experiences of his military service during World War II.  Even though I grew up hearing stories about those years and times, my dad rarely ever spoke of the events that challenged his young adult life.  As he began to revisit those memories, they seemed as fresh and clear as if from more recent times and yet his words resonated with a nostalgic clarity born from having personally experienced the horrors of war and the satisfaction of having done ones duty during those traumatic and dangerous years.

Reflecting on what my dad experienced during the war years generates mixed emotions as many of America’s young men and women today are once again in harms way engaged in overseas fighting.  There is a kindred spirit of sorts that connects their generation with those from the Second World War.  It is a spirit worth sharing.

He was barely 19 years old when he shipped off to the South Pacific as a corporal in the U.S. Army attached to the 321^st Engineer Combat Battalion as part of the 96^th Infantry Division (The Deadeye Division).  He scored well at the gunnery range receiving at the time the second highest score ever recorded in the battalion, second only to the sergeant in charge of the outfit.  As a result he was given special training in defensive preparations and was assigned the responsibility of being in charge of all the unit’s machine gun operations.  That responsibility included not only maintaining the 30 caliber light machine guns but the heavier water cooled 50 caliber guns as well, plus making sure they were transported, operational, manned, and supplied.  He often found himself manning those emplacements as well.

His unit was actively involved in General Douglas MacArthur’s ‘Return to the Philippines’ as they landed on the shores of Leyte in 1944 to support the combat units reclaiming territory the Japanese had taken earlier in the war.  The 321^st Engineers were more than a support unit. They were actively engaged in combat rolls and many times went in ahead of the infantry to prepare the way.  

Sometimes they took out seawalls that blocked exits off a landing beach, other times repaired or built bridges, often under fire.  Their charge one day might be to support an offensive, or assemble Bailey Bridges across a ravine or river, or to remove or mark a mine field, and to even take out concrete bunkers.  Whatever their call, my dad’s unit was often upfront in the thick of deadly fire.

As tough as the Leyte campaign was, Okinawa proved to be the largest and most difficult battle of the Pacific theater.  The 96^th Infantry along with the U.S. Army 7^th and U.S. Marines 1^st and 6^th divisions invaded Okinawa on April 1, 1945.  Being one of the home islands of Japan, it was defended with fanatical tenacity by one of Japans toughest and best lead military units…the Japanese 32^nd Army.  

The Japanese all through the Pacific proved themselves as tough fighters, and Okinawa proved just how tough, disciplined, and well trained they were.  Their underground fortifications positioned along a series of ridges and escarpments traversing a narrow pinch on the southern end of the island were specifically designed to inflict heavy casualties. What was encountered along this Shuri Line was the largest concentration of Japanese firepower that confronted the American forces anywhere in the Pacific theater.

The 96^th was a major contributor to the breaching of that line and name places such as Kakazu, Tombstone, Nisharu, and Hacksaw Ridges…Conical Hill and Charlie Hill…are forever engrained into the history and exploits of the battalion.  The 321^st Combat Engineers were there through it all.

Although during our recording session, my dad spoke of many experiences, there was one experience he spoke about in a more subdued manner.  His unit had stopped moving forward and setup for the evening.  As was his duty, he setup several machine gun emplacements around the perimeter as a defensive measure and assigned himself on point…the area most likely to encounter any kind of an attack during the night.  As it turned out, his commanding officer indicated that my dad needed to head back to the landing beach area and help unload supplies which was an all night, physically challenging thing in its own right.  Although he argued the point about needing to stay, the officer told him to head out and get someone else to take his post on the point.  That evening the Japanese attacked their position and the point location took heavy fire and the man he appointed to take his place was severely wounded and later died.  Many years after the fact, as he recalled the incident, I could still see in his eyes just how moved he was by what had happened.

One of the most revealing things I learned during our recording session was just how often the Good Lord protected my dad.  Indeed, my grandmother often told me when I was younger how she and my grandfather would every morning and every evening kneel next to their bed and pray for the safety of their son…their only child.  Those prayers were most certainly answered more than once.

There was one incident where it appeared his unit was going to stop moving for an extended time, so he gathered a bunch of timbers and old tin roofing material and built a make shift bunker of sorts…one that would protect him from just about anything except a direct hit.  Shortly before sundown, the sergeant came by and told all of them to gather their gear for they were moving out pronto.  During the night an intense artillery duel ensued with shells flying from both sides over their position. 

By morning, things had calmed down, and he needed to return to his make shift bunker to get some supplies he had left behind as they had moved out so quickly the day before.  When he found his bunker…it had taken a direct hit by a Japanese artillery round destroying everything in and around it.  Had his unit not moved out, he would have been in that bunker…and I would not be writing this article now.

His unit was manned by a bunch of tough characters many of them coming from construction and heavy equipment operations before the war.  During the blur of combat difficult moments and snap decisions are often made, sometimes with tragic results…sometimes with uncanny insight.  In all of the carnage…during all of the stress of combat…my dad’s humanity saved the life of a Japanese soldier.  His unit had captured a scared and confused young Japanese private not much older than he was.  Things had been rather chaotic and some of the guys in his unit wanted to shoot the guy and be done with it for they didn’t have time to deal with him.  My dad stepped in and argued against doing so, saying that the guy was no longer a threat to anyone…couldn’t they see that he was scared to death.  They just needed to hang onto him for a while until they could find an officer to take him back for interrogation.  Before too long an officer did drive by in a Jeep and he flagged him down…and turned over the Japanese soldier to him...saving the life of not just a foe…but another human being.

Notice the camera?
 It's an old Argus C3

With the anniversary of the Okinawa campaign on the horizon and in light of the recent earthquake and tsunami disaster in Japan, it somehow seems fitting to reflect on just how much the world has changed since those tumultuous times.  Those who were once a bitter enemy are now a trusted friend and our hearts and prayers go out to the Japanese people and nation.

The legacy of the greatest generation and my dad is less about the political environment of the world in the 1940’s, and more about the character of a nation as experienced through the lives of those who lived it.  They were ordinary men, thrown into an extraordinary situation…and changed the world for the better.  We are all part of that legacy and are forever indebted to that generation…Although my dad would never say it…I will say it for him…I am proud that he can be counted as one from ‘The Greatest Generation’.

(My dad passed away several years ago as he approached the age of 92. He remained in relatively good health for most of his life, always active and athletic up until the last few years, he always lived his life with courage and honor caring for my mother until her death a few years before his. The stories of his WWII exploits were first told to me by my grandmother as a very young boy growing up in Oklahoma. I've always treasured those stories and after we made the recordings, copies of them along with this same article were sent to the Oklahoma Historical Society Oral History Department and archived along with other war stories from that same generation. About a year and a half before my dad passed away, my brother unexpectedly passed away from complications sustained from exposure to Agent Orange received during his stint in Vietnam. My grandfather, having served during WWI as part of an artillery unit, sustained damaging injuries to his lungs from poison gas which gave him great distress as he grew older. I spent four years performing search and rescue operations off the Oregon Coast while serving in the United States Coast Guard during the tail end of the Vietnam War Era. It was an experience I would not trade for anything.)

Keith Bridgman