(Photo by Brooke Hatfield, Morgan County Citizen) Former Henderson resident Annie Lesnikowski shows off the bracelet that she had made from the pilot’s wings she earned while in the U.S. Army during World War II. RELATED STORIES Flier a proud Barret grad

By BROOKE HATFIELD, Morgan County (Ga.) Citizen
April 2, 2006

MADISON, Ga. -- During World War II, scores of young men lied about their ages in order to join the war effort. Annie Berry Lesnikowski just stood on her tip-toes.

Lesnikowski was 5 feet, 4 inches tall, just one inch shy of the U.S. Army's minimum height requirement. But that didn't stop Lesnikowski from joining the Women's Airforce Service Pilots, or WASP, a group of exceptional women who flew non-combat missions across the United States during World War II.

At 21, the former Henderson resident graduated from Murray State College in Kentucky with a degree in journalism and a desire to contribute to the war effort. The year was 1943.

At the same time, several pilots were lobbying for a squadron of female pilots who would perform more benign missions like ferrying aircraft and transporting military personnel. The rationale is that these women in the sky would free up male pilots to fly combat missions in the European and Pacific theaters.

"I wanted to do military service and I just sort of liked the idea of flying," Lesnikowski said. "When wars come up, people serve."

The WASP, formed in 1942 under General Henry "Hap" Arnold, was intended to give wings to Rosie the Riveter. According to some estimates, more than 25,000 women applied to WASP and just under 2,000 were accepted. Lesnikowski was one of the lucky few.

She underwent intensive instruction for six months in Sweetwater, Texas, before Arnold himself pinned her wings on. Years later, Lesnikowski had those same wings welded to a silver bracelet that she still wears.

But despite the fact that members of WASP received extensive training before they were set loose on the open sky -- women would pilot everything from a PT-19 trainer to the B-29 bomber -- their male counterparts weren't always accommodating.

"There was objection to it," Lesnikowski said. "You know men. 'Women can't fly. They're too much this and not enough that.'"

But WASPs could fly, and by the time they were disbanded in December 1945 they had piloted every aircraft the U.S. Army had to offer.

This didn't always carry much weight with male pilots, however. Lesnikowski remembers a particularly turbulent landing, which was due in no small part to a taxiing C-47's attempts to depart from the tarmac.

Lesnikowski's passenger, a JAG officer, was visibly nervous as she maneuvered her aircraft through a failed attempt at a landing. Lesnikowski was able to land during her second attempt, and her panicked passenger quickly grabbed his things and exited the cockpit once the plane hit solid ground.

"If he's ever had to fly somewhere again, he probably said 'Please don't let a woman fly me,'" Lesnikowski said with a laugh.

Members of WASP were treated like military officers -- they wore uniforms, they ate at the officers' mess -- but due to the failure of a June 1944 bill to pass the U.S. House of Representatives, they had no rank and were recognized as civil service employees.

"It was irrational and frustrating, but there wasn't much we could do about it," she said. "Mostly the men treated us well."

More than 30 years later, in 1977, President Jimmy Carter granted hundreds of surviving WASPs military status, which meant they were privy to benefits.

"We thought 'Well, it's damn well time,'" Lesnikowski said. "My friend said 'If we get VD we can go to a VA hospital.'"

When WASP disbanded in 1945, Lesnikowski worked at The Gleaner & Journal in Henderson for a few years before she ultimately married and moved to Martha's Vineyard, Mass.

She never flew again.

"It's like she flew as part of her wartime obligation," her daughter Molly said.

When her husband Bronislaw died 11 years ago, she began spending her winters in Rutledge, Ga., with Molly's family.

"I'm obsolete now," Lesnikowski said as she sat on the patio of the Caboose, sipping a Sprite and waving at the children who forsook the indoors for Rutledge's park during a recent school break.

But for an 85-year-old, obsolete pilot, Lesnikowski's recollection is sharp. She remembers plane model numbers, air force bases, flying maneuvers. She also remembers the role she and the hundreds of other WASPs played during what she calls the last good war.

"We contributed with the war effort, and I'm glad we did," Lesnikowski said. "We broke the glass ceiling in aviation for women."

Every two years, the remaining WASPs remember too. The 300 or so women meet up every two years, and this September they'll convene in Portland, Ore. During a WASP convention several years ago, a female military aviator addressed the group, praising their tenacity to take to the skies.

"If you had not been there, we would not be here," the young pilot told the group.

"That's what I'm proud of," Lesnikowski said.

Copyright © 2006, Morgan County Citizen

Reprinted with permission