The Patriot Post® · 'Young Washington' and Red Erwin: The Rest of the Story
“There is a certain enthusiasm in liberty, that makes human nature rise above itself, in acts of bravery and heroism.” —Alexander Hamilton (1775)
This week, I planned a follow-up on “A Republic, if You Can Keep It,” my tribute to American Liberty’s 250th anniversary. The focus was on George Washington’s extraordinary Farewell Address and its timeless advice for us today. But a call from our son changed my topic course.
I reserve Profiles of Valor for Friday, but this story forges a connection between two heroic men, George Washington and a Medal of Honor recipient, and properly telling this story requires more than a Friday post.
Last Sunday, my wife suggested a movie, “Young Washington,” a theater production about which our team had written a review and recorded a podcast. Though I considered it to be a niche film, it was very good by any standard. (You can watch the trailer here.)
For the record, I had not been in a movie theater for a decade, the last time being the opening screening of “Hacksaw Ridge” — the very accurate depiction of the life and valorous actions of Army Medal of Honor recipient CPL Desmond Doss.
Desmond’s Medal of Honor citation is the only one that includes the word “far” — as in “far above and beyond the call of duty.” He was labeled a “conscientious objector,” but as he once told me, “I prefer to think of myself as a conscientious cooperator.” And that is how I remember this heroic man.
In the years since “Hacksaw Ridge,” I have patiently waited for those rare big-screen productions that are worth seeing to hit the streaming platforms. I mean, I make great popcorn, the seating in our family room is more comfortable than a theater, and we even have surround sound! But I am grateful that we saw “Young Washington” now rather than later, as it was an honest and inspiring depiction of Washington’s early years and worth more than the ticket price.
So, as legendary commentator Paul Harvey would say in his profiles of extraordinary Americans years ago, here is “the rest of the story.”
Our son, a former Marine Infantry Officer who has a deep understanding of service above self, called to tell me about a podcast from one of our favorite Patriots, Mike Rowe. Mike is the “Paul Harvey” of the current era, a storyteller who focuses on the extraordinary lives of ordinary people.
Mike had just posted a podcast interview with Jon Erwin, the director of “Young Washington,” who is currently working on his sequel film, “1776.”
The interview was about more than Jon’s latest historical film on Washington, which shocked Hollywood with its top-three opening-week rating. Jon talked about his inspiration: his grandfather, Henry “Red” Erwin. That was a name I had not heard, but a story I had, and Jon needs to adapt it for the big screen.
So, who was Staff Sergeant Henry “Red” Erwin? As Jon explained to Mike, a heroic split-second decision by his grandfather saved an entire air crew.
Red was a native of the small coal-mining town of Adamsville, Alabama, near Birmingham. The grandson of a Confederate veteran of the War Between the States, he grew up impoverished materially but rich in character. His father, a coal miner, died when Red was 10, leaving his mother and six younger siblings with no support. Several of his siblings were taken in by relatives, and Red supported his mom and remaining siblings by stocking shelves in the coal company store for a dollar a day, and he was also able to bring home groceries from the company store. Red recalled, “I came from a poor family, had no high school education, no college, and no money.” But what he did have was a strong sense of faith instilled by his mother.
In 1938, at age 17, he left home to join FDR’s Civilian Conservation Corps, where his faith, character, and leadership shined. After two years in the CCC, he was given charge of 220 men and paid $30 per month, $21 of which he sent home to his mom and family. In 1941, at the onset of World War II, he returned home and took a job with Fairfield Steel Works, earning almost a dollar an hour (a significant sum at the time) handling molten steel. That job may have prepared him for the 22 seconds of terror he would endure five years later. He earned enough money fabricating steel to buy a small house for his mom and siblings. His son Hank recalled, “One of the greatest moments of his life was presenting the key to his mother.”
In July 1942, Red joined the Army Reserve, and his brothers also enlisted. Eight months later, he was called to active duty as an Army Air Forces aviation cadet, a reflection of his entrance exam scores. He initially trained as a pilot and mastered takeoffs but struggled with landings. It was determined that he was better suited to be a flight technician, and he trained at several bases as a flight radio operator and radio mechanic. He later said, “More than anything, I wanted to be a fighter pilot,” but he understood that was not the path God put him on.
Red was assigned to the 52d Bombardment Squadron, 29th Bombardment Group, Twentieth Air Force, in Dalhart, Texas. He initially trained in the B-17 Flying Fortress but volunteered to serve in the new and much larger long-range B-29 Superfortress, a technological marvel in its time. He was then deployed to the Pacific Theater, where from February to April of 1945, the 29th flew unescorted bombing missions targeting military and industrial production centers in the Japanese mainland, for which then-SSgt Erwin had received two Air Medals. Of those missions, Japanese Emperor Hirohito’s wife wrote, “Unfortunately, the B-29 is a splendid plane.”
It was Red’s actions during his 11th combat mission on 12 April 1945, aboard the B-29 “City of Los Angeles,” that would forever alter his life — and the lives of those on the mission with him.
His plane was the pathfinder in a formation of 167 B-29s from Guam, Saipan, and Tinian, assigned for low-level attacks on a weapons plant. One of Erwin’s jobs was to drop white phosphorus bombs for the other aircraft to align on, creating a massive formation.
On the mission that fateful day, 23-year-old Erwin pulled the pin and released one of the 20-pound phosphorus bombs into a chute in the belly of the B-29, but it ignited prematurely, and when the plane hit an air pocket, the 1,300-degree device emerged back from the chute at Erwin’s feet, engulfing him in flames.
As his grandson Jon proudly recounted in the Rowe interview, “Instead of trying to save himself, he actually grabbed the bomb like a football, marched it all the way to the front of the plane, threw it out of the front of the plane.”
As noted in his Medal of Honor citation:
Upon entering the assembly area, aircraft fire and enemy fighter opposition was encountered. Among the phosphorus bombs launched by S/Sgt. Erwin, one proved faulty, exploding in the launching chute, and shot back into the interior of the aircraft, striking him in the face. The burning phosphorus obliterated his nose and completely blinded him. Smoke filled the plane, obscuring the vision of the pilot. S/Sgt. Erwin realized that the aircraft and crew would be lost if the burning bomb remained in the plane. Without regard for his own safety, he picked it up and feeling his way, instinctively, crawled around the gun turret and headed for the copilot’s window. He found the navigator’s table obstructing his passage. Grasping the burning bomb between his forearm and body, he unleashed the spring lock and raised the table. Struggling through the narrow passage he stumbled forward into the smoke-filled pilot’s compartment. Groping with his burning hands, he located the window and threw the bomb out. Completely aflame, he fell back upon the floor. The smoke cleared, the pilot, at 300 feet, pulled the plane out of its dive.
His citation concludes, “S/Sgt. Erwin’s gallantry and heroism above and beyond the call of duty saved the lives of his comrades.”
Red suffered horrific third-degree burns to most of the right side of his body, and he later noted, “I called on the Lord to help me, and He has never let me down.” Ironically, as the flight medic, and despite going in and out of consciousness, he instructed others how to keep him alive.
In that moment, grandson Jon says, despite the standing order from Pacific Air Force commanding Major General Curtis LeMay that no air-worthy plane was to ever turn around before completing its mission, “A Colonel on that B-29 who witnessed Red’s actions declared: ‘I don’t care if they court martial. We turn this plane around right now. We’re going to try to save this man’s life because I’ve never seen anything like this.’”
And that they did, landing at Iwo Jima, which still had pockets of Japanese on the island who fired on the Los Angeles as she landed.
It was Col. Eugene Strouse, the B-29 squadron commander on the Los Angeles, who wrote Red’s Medal of Honor recommendation that same night. He called LeMay on Guam before daybreak, and LeMay was so moved by Red’s heroic actions that, even though it was President Harry Truman’s first day in office after FDR’s death, he elevated the request directly to the Pentagon, where Army Chief of Staff General George C. Marshall sent it immediately to the White House for Truman’s signature.
Red’s Medal of Honor was approved in six hours — the fastest approval in history.
Certain that Erwin’s death was imminent, LeMay declared, “I want to put a Medal of Honor around this kid’s neck” before he dies, but there was only one Medal in the theater, a display medal at Pearl Harbor in the office of Major General Robert Richardson, commander of the U.S. Army, Pacific. Jon says: “So, they strip down a B29. Its ultra-long flight from Guam is a secret mission. They land. The general’s not there, so they break into his office. They can’t find the key, so they smash the display case and steal it.”
Presenting Erwin with his Medal days later, Lemay declared, “Your effort to save the lives of your fellow Airmen is the most extraordinary kind of heroism I know.” Erwin recalled: “He stayed with me for 24 hours. I couldn’t see him, but I knew he was there, and that was a great comfort.”
Jon says, “Granddad endured 47 surgeries and came back 87 pounds, clinging to life.” He says Red survived those disfiguring wounds for one reason — his wife Betty: “My grandmother, when she [first saw him], kissed him. … The whole right side of his face, she finds the only unburned portion of his cheek, kisses him, and says, ‘Welcome home. I love you.’ That gave him the will to live.”
Indeed, as Jon notes, some wives visiting that burn center could not endure the thought of living out their lives with such severely disabled and disfigured husbands, and they left their wedding rings on the bedstands.
After 30 months of surgeries and recovery, Red Erwin was discharged from the Army after having served five years, two months, and 12 days. Eventually, he regained the use of one arm and recovered some of his eyesight. He and Betty had five kids, and he spent the rest of his career, 37 years, working for the Veterans Administration, serving other Vets in Birmingham.
By one assessment, amid the struggles of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder suffered by many combat Veterans, Red — despite dealing with, in his words, “moments of black despair” — was lifted by his faith, and instead of PTSD, he experienced Post-Traumatic Growth. PTG is where an individual has a positive emotional response to trauma and develops a deeper appreciation for life.
Jon Erwin recalls: “He said to me as I held his Medal of Honor when I was seven years old, not knowing at the time what this would mean later on, he said over my shoulder, ‘freedom isn’t free,’ and you know he bore the marks of that statement. … My grandfather had lived his whole life sacrificing himself for the people he loved. And so when there was a bomb on the floor, what do you do? You pick it up, and you try to save the people around you. … These heroic moments, they’re actually forged over a long period of time, and you can kind of trace them, whether it’s George Washington or my grandfather.”
In 1997, the Air Force created the Henry Erwin Outstanding Enlisted Aircrew Member of the Year Award, one of only two such awards named for enlisted men.
Red Erwin died on 16 January 2002 at age 80 and is buried in Birmingham, Alabama. Jon Erwin coauthored a book on his grandfather, Beyond Valor: A World War II Story of Extraordinary Heroism, Sacrificial Love, and a Race against Time.
From George Washington to Henry “Red” Erwin and countless heroic Patriots since, their actions exemplify the essence of the American Spirit.
S/Sgt Red Erwin: An ordinary man faced with extraordinary circumstances, he summoned the greatest measure of courage to place his life in imminent peril to save others. Your example of valor — a humble American Patriot defending Liberty for all above and beyond the call of duty — is eternal. Live your life worthy of his sacrifice.
“Greater love has no one than this, to lay down one’s life for his friends.” (John 15:13)
(Read more Profiles of Valor here.)
Semper Vigilans Fortis Paratus et Fidelis
Pro Deo et Libertate — 1776
Follow Mark Alexander on X/Twitter.
Join us in daily prayer for our Patriots in uniform — Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, Marines, and Coast Guardsmen — standing in harm’s way in defense of American Liberty, and for our nation’s Veterans, First Responders, and their families. Please lift up your Patriot team and our mission to support and defend our Republic’s Founding Principle of Liberty, in order to ignite the fires of freedom in the hearts and minds of our countrymen.
Please consider a designated gift to support the National Medal of Honor Sustaining Fund’s character education initiatives through Patriot Foundation Trust’s online donor page, or by check payable to “NMoH Sustaining Fund” and mail it to:
Generosity Trust
National MOH Sustaining Fund
345 Frazier Avenue, Unit 205
Chattanooga TN 37405
Thank you for supporting The Patriot Post, our nation’s premier journal of American Liberty.