On January 3rd, 1943, just a few weeks prior to his 24th birthday, Alan Eugene Magee slipped into unconsciousness; his final words a prayer:

 

Lord, I do not wish to die today. I am too young. I know nothing yet of this life. Please save me.

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He was somewhere over France, stumbling blindly through the smoke and flames of a disintegrating B17 bomber when darkness found him. Pierced by shrapnel he toppled forward, surrendering his bullet-ridden body to incineration, lack of oxygen, and the pull of gravity.

 

The last thing he was aware of was a sudden rush of cold air, the presence of death welcoming him. He was falling. His limp body had passed through a hole in the fuselage and he was plummeting towards earth from approximately 20,000 feet up in the air.

 

Because his parachute had been torn into rags back inside the airplane, his descending mass was now reaching estimated speeds of 120 miles per hour. In less than 2 minutes, he crashed through a glass sky light of St. Nazaire’s railroad station and his body came to rest among several steel support beams near the ceiling.

 

Doctors who examined him later found that he had suffered from severe burns, a punctured lung and kidney, deep lacerations to his nose and to one eye, several broken teeth, a near complete amputation of his right arm and multiple broken bones in his right leg and ankle.

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There wasn’t much left of him but, incredible as this may sound, he was still alive.

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That is a true story. It is a true story of survival. It is a story of surviving when, after all of the details are considered, the results should have been anything but what they were. If the events had transpired in exactly the same manner, ten thousand times over, to ten thousand different people, all ten thousand stories would have ended in death. Yet, for this one man, Allen Magee, the story was not over. This was not his ending. He lived another 60 years.

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To God almighty, this man must have been special. Yet, other than being awarded a purple heart, there is barely any mention of him anywhere in history. He died at age 84 from stroke and kidney failure. He was cremated and his remains were buried in Pioneer Memorial Park north of San Angelo, Texas. There were no services.

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If his grave marker is any indication of how he wanted to be remembered, then it was for his Christian faith and for his military service. It is marked by a small engraved cross and reads:

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ALAN E MAGEE

T SGT   US ARMY

JAN 13  1919     DEC 20  2003

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It is indistinguishable from almost any other grave in the cemetery.

 

Despite his miraculous tale of survival, Alan Magee came to believe he was no more special than you or I. He found his significance and relief from survivor guilt in the context of his faith and his service.

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Questions to consider:

Why do you believe Alan Magee wanted to be remembered in the context of the organizations he belonged to rather than as a hero?

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What power did Alan Magee have to save himself?

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What power did Alan Magee have to save the rest of his crew?