<div>
<p>
The soft drawl, the quiet humor, the twinkle in his eyes—there was no mistaking the origin of <em>Carter Williamson, Jr.</em> A product of Dallas, Texas, he began his short but purposeful life on 9 April 1918 as the only child of very proud parents, the Carter Williamsons. He was not one to talk about himself, so not very much is known of his early life. After graduating from Woodrow Wilson High School in Dallas in 1935, Carter spent one and a half years at the University of Texas at Austin before obtaining an appointment to the Military Academy from Congressman Hatton W. Sumners. From then on it was only a matter of formality before his entry as a new cadet in the Class of 1942. As one classmate recalls, who shared the rather traumatic exam and interview phase with Carter, “…his sharp mind and dry wit were impressive even in the presence of the Camp Bullis Prep School contingent who, at that tender age, were awesome with their experience and know-how.”</p>
<p>
As a cadet, Carter easily and inconspicuously fell into a role of anonymity, neither offering a target for antagonism nor trying to set an example of excellence. His sense of values seemed to shun recognition and avoid the plaudits of either his contemporaries or superiors. In his own quiet and effortless fashion, he met every standard and passed every test demanded of him, as he prepared for the career he had set out for himself.</p>
<p>
Carter seemed to enjoy a tète-a-tète game with both the Academic and Tactical Departments. He considered every requirement on his time as a challenge against his resourcefulness and, without disrespect or rancor towards any, manipulated his total resources like a master showman to maximize the return on his response. His panic button was well-tuned to recognize danger signals in both areas, identifying the thresholds at which he must take action and, ultimately, the points of no return. In retrospect, Carter's whole outlook on life in general, and on the military in particular, was generated from a basic conviction that sometime later on he would need all of his resourcefulness, stamina, and ingenuity to meet the challenges of his profession. He had no desire to compete for top marks as a cadet but, like a great runner, paced himself, waiting for the ultimate challenge during the homestretch of his military career which could well tax his every capability.</p>
<p>
Graduating in the upper 16% of the Class, Carter elected Infantry as his basic branch of the Army, but like so many of us during those war years, he chose pilot training and the Army Air Force for his military career, which regrettably, was to be short-lived. After earning his wings in December 1942, he transitioned into B-25’s and was soon on his way to the Pacific with the 75th Bombardment Squadron, 42nd Bomb Group, Thirteenth Air Force. Soon after his arrival in the combat zone, his plane was put out of action by hostile fire near Rabaul, New Britain on 18 January 1944. He demonstrated his skill as a pilot by successfully ditching the disabled aircraft. But then, as suddenly as his Air Force career had begun, it was abruptly terminated by enemy aircraft strafing his helpless ship, despite the efforts of our P-38’s to ward them off.</p>
<p>
Time has dulled our sense of loss, perhaps our anger at such a wanton act of revenge and reprisal, even our sense of inadequacy. What remains in sharp focus is this one nice guy from Dallas, this easy-going Texan who took everything in stride, whose dry sense of humor eased critical situations for many of us. The tragedy is that Carter never got that opportunity to really prove or extend himself.</p>
<p>
Carter was survived by both parents who confessed that the loss of their only child made their world pretty empty. His mother still resides in Dallas.</p>
</div>
<p>
</p>