Kathy Waters/Highlands Today
Ted Biever's B-17 plane was shot down somewhere over Germany in 1942. He was a prisoner of war for 21 months.
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Published: November 11, 2007
SEBRING — Oct. 14, 1942, is a day Ted Biever Sr. remembers vividly.
On that fateful day, Biever, a retired Air Force master sergeant, who served as a gunner on World War II aircraft, was shot down while conducting a mission over Germany.
"To tell you the truth there was so much going on when we were shot down that I had no idea it was happening until we hit the ground," said Biever
"I slept all night inside of a haystack," said Biever. "The following day I got up, and I was in the middle of Germany. I didn't speak the language, didn't have a compass and didn't have a map, so all I could do was hope to run into someone friendly on the ground."
So, Biever, then 21, approached a group of farmers he thought looked friendly.
"I was hoping they'd be friendly but they weren't," said Biever. "They took me into a village and threw me in this one-man jail until some German soldiers came and picked me up."
Over the next 21 months, Biever was held captive by Nazi forces.
"I was transported to Frankfort, where I was interrogated and placed with the rest of my crew, who were also found," said Biever.
"After they tried to interrogate us again, we were thrown into a streetcar and put on display for the town to see," said Biever. "They used us for propaganda. They wanted to show power."
Things only got worse for Biever.
"Eventually we were loaded on train boxcars, which were filled to the brim with troops,"said Biever. "I had no idea what was going to happen next. I wasn't nervous, I was scared. We were crammed in there like animals."
"We ended up picking up more guys, and they transported us to a camp located about 20 minutes outside of Vienna, Austria," said Biever. "From then on, we were held. The guards told us that the war was over."
Into The Woods
Over the next 21 months Biever sat in a POW camp. He received hot water for breakfast, nothing for lunch, and a bowl of insect-infested barley soup for dinner.
"The worst thing was the food. We didn't have it. After a while I started eating anything I could get my hands on," said Biever.
Eventually, as the German forces started dwindling around the camp because of U.S. forces, guards forced the prisoners to march through the woods.
"We were put on this forced march," said Biever, who said the walk, lasted for 30 days. "I don't remember how many miles we walked, but it was rainy and I had dysentery."
"Eventually they abandoned us in this wooded area," said Biever, who said he wasn't sure how long he was left in the woods. "I thought I was dying, but one day I started hearing something in the woods."
"It was like something you'd see in a movie. I saw this guy's helmet pop up, and he started walking closer, and I recognized him," said Biever. "It was my cousin from Chicago."
Eventually Biever was taken to an American camp, where he was treated. After spending a few weeks at the camp he was allowed to go on leave, and headed home to Chicago. After his arrival, he received a Purple Heart because of the injuries he sustained when his aircraft was shot down.
"The war was wrapping up and I had enough points because of my prisoner of war status that I was discharged," said Biever. "Basically, I was given some papers and was placed on a diet because my stomach had shrunk to the size of my fist."
Biever, now 87, said he was just happy to be in America following his discharge.
"I wasn't married so I went back to work (as a manufacturer)," said Biever. "The biggest adjustment I had to make was to clean up my foul language because I spent 21 months trapped with a bunch of guys."
Over the next few years, Biever settled down, but his POW memories still spark up when he hears war stories.
"When we started sending forces into Vietnam and I started hearing stories about the prisoners there, I knew what they were going through," said Biever. "But I think they were treated a lot worse than us. Those troops were really mistreated."
Vietnam Story
When retired Army Staff Sgt. Jack Turbeville made his return to the United States after serving a tour of duty in Vietnam, he expected to find supporters cheering his arrival.
Instead the helicopter gunner was greeted by a disturbing question from a protestor at a San Francisco airport.
"When I was at the gate there was this hippie that had a balloon that he was going to throw at me and he asked me, 'how many babies did you kill?'" said Turbeville, of Sebring.
"We didn't get a parade, they called us baby killers," said Turbeville. "When you come back from (Vietnam) and there are people calling you a murderer, it haunts you."
"We didn't know what was happening at home," said Turbeville. "We only had one radio station, and it was an armed forces station that broadcast information that the government wanted us to hear. It was a total shock when we got back."
"I didn't like civilians at all when I got back," said Turbeville. "It took me about five years to adjust after I was discharged."
Turberville was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) a few years ago after suffering flashbacks caused by the stress of the war.
"In Vietman, 80 percent of the guys were under fire," said Turbeville. "It affects you for the rest of your life. A certain smell or noise can cause a flashback."
"I was having nightmares and I couldn't sleep when I got back," said Turbeville. "But they didn't know what PTSD was back in those days, so I dealt with it. But when I got a little bit older, I started thinking about things that I had done, and it started to bother me and make me sick."
"I have to see a psychologist every month. Without seeing one, I don't think I could make it through life," said Turbeville.
Asking Turbeville how many people he killed, if any, would not be a fair question. He admits to shooting at "everything" he was told to while he was a gunner.
"I was helping build schools (in Vietnam) too, I was working at health clinics for children and working with orphanages," said Tubeville. "But at the time you never heard a word about that type of thing going on there from the media. All you heard about were the bad things that were going on."
The story was the same for Turbeville's friend, retired Navy Petty Officer Kenny Snook, who served as a machinist on USS Midway, off the coast of Vietnam from 1969 though 1973. He also returned to
California following his first tour of duty and was greeted by protestors.
"Instead of dropping confetti, people were dropping balloons with red paint and holding up signs that said 'baby killer," said Snook, of Sebring. "As soon as I saw that, I was ready to go back."
"Everybody has painful stories," said Turbeville, who can list the names of troops he was with and friends who were killed. "My best friend Johnny was killed. I was the best man at his wedding. That was probably one of the worst days of my life, burying that boy."
An Oasis Of Understanding
As painful as some of the memories are that Turbeville, Snook and retired Air Force Staff Sgt. Ken Eiland share, they believe that the only reason they can sit around and enjoy their time at the American Legion Post 64, in Sebring, is because of the men and women who have served or are serving the United States around the world.
"Spending time with these guys is therapy for me," said Turbeville. "It's a bond we have and share. We respect each other."
"I met some of the greatest guys I've ever met in my life when I was in Vietnam," said Turbeville. "You're talking about 19-year-old kids who had never met each other before (joining the military), but would do anything for each other."
"When you get into the military, you learn leadership skills, communication, teamwork and discipline," said Turbeville.
Eiland, a lifelong resident of Highlands County, said that he was a part of six different tours in Vietnam during his time in the Air Force from 1960 through 1970, as a radar repair man working on B-52s.
"I joined because I wanted to get a good education, and I wanted to travel the world," said Eiland. "If you think it's boring in Sebring now, you should've seen it back then."
Eiland said his schedule was hectic, as he was working on jets that carried thousands of pounds in bombs.
"It was hot as hell," said Eiland. "I was working 12 hours a day, seven days a week. As soon as I was off of work, I'd go to bed, wake up and be back at work."
"I would serve a year tour, and then come back to the states for six months and have to go back for another year," said Eiland. "I did a lot of growing up."
Retired Army Command Sgt. Maj. Cesar Pinzon's experience was a little bit different than the Legion trio.
Pinzon, of Avon Park, was attending school at DeVry University, in Chicago, when he was drafted in 1966. He was given the job of a classified document courier.
"I went all over the Pacific carrying classified documents and information," said Pinzon. "I only came under fire once, and it was in Korea, when our battalion received an alert that the president was coming."
Pinzon spent most of his time hand-carrying or transporting documents by air, but his job was not cozy.
"When I flew, I was escorted by two Air Force jets, because the government did not want the information I was carrying getting into the hands of anybody," said Pinzon. "It was not too nice to think about."
"I never looked at the documents I was transporting. I'd just have people sign off for the information and release it," said Pinzon. "I didn't really want to know. It was top secret stuff for commanders."
After Pinzon returned to civilian life, he became a police officer for the Chicago Police Department. He ended up joining the Army reserves and took classes so that he could train other soldiers. He currently serves as a military and law enforcement consultant for the Army.
Iraq Story
Combat veteran Nick Vasquez, 24, who served in the Marines until last year, spent eight months serving in Iraq before his priorities started to change.
The Marine worked on a response team as a machine gunner and provided security for Marines who were working on disarming improvised explosive devices (IED's).
"I had a family at home that I wanted to spend time with," said Vasquez, of Sebring, who has a wife and a 3-year-old girl named Katelyn. "There was constantly something going on with IEDs and mortars. It was a tough experience."
"I saw a lot there. It still bothers me when I hear about deaths and bad news," said Vasquez. "Everyone who served over there knows someone who has died."
Vasquez said he joined the Marines because of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks.
"I felt like I needed to do something for my country, and I thought I could make it my future," said Vasquez. "But then I started a family, and my priorities switched to them."
"I missed a lot of time I could have spent seeing my daughter grow up," said Vasquez, who said that although it was difficult, he wouldn't take his Marine experience back. "If I didn't start a family, I'd still be there now."
Vasquez is currently enrolled at South Florida Community College, where he is studying computer science. He is also employed at Heartland Workforce. His tuition is being paid by the government for his time in the Marines.
"It's a little bit strange being considered a veteran at my age," said Vasquez.
Korea And The Sea Museum
Howard Fleetwood is the first person to admit that his experiences in the Navy probably don't compare to other people's stories.
And he has no problem with that, because telling other people's stories is now part of his job.
But that doesn't keep Fleetwood from taking pride in his veteran status. Fleetwood, who served in Korea, was a member of the famous Seabees construction battalion.
"As a Seabee, I was more or less attached to the Marines," said Fleetwood about his four years in Korea. "Our job was to get their supplies to shore, and to the battlefront."
"I was excited when I was there," said Fleetwood. "I really wouldn't say I was nervous. I was really young, so I didn't know what was going on."
Fleetwood said he joined the Navy because his dad was also a Navy officer, and that he had "no choice" as to what branch he could join.
Fleetwood ended up enjoying his time in the Navy so much that he decided to make a career out of it, retiring after 21 years in different locations across the world.
Because of his service time, Fleetwood became president of The Military Sea Services Museum, Inc., located at 1402 Roseland Ave., in Sebring, which consists of Marine, Navy and U.S. Coast Guard artifacts, all of which are associated with service at sea.
Some of the artifacts Fleetwood keeps on display came from his time in Korea, which he takes great pride in.
The museum currently has 96 members, who are spread across the country and donate. It is open to the public from noon until 4p.m., Monday through Friday.
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