In service to his country In service to his country (May 27, 2005)

Disabled Pleasanton veteran hopes to spend final years close to home
Carol Bogart

Fifty. That's how many bombing missions Richard Irby flew over Italy during World War II. He joined the Air Force in 1943 after first being drafted by the Army in '41.

In the Air Force, he'd trained as a pilot but was reassigned as a bombardier when they were in short supply. Seated in the belly of the plane as bombs were dropping, the bombardiers were especially vulnerable to enemy fire.

The reassignment proved to be a blessing in disguise. All but one of the men he'd trained with were on board a plane headed for Berlin on a bombing run. It was shot down. To a man, they died.

Irby escaped his runs unscathed and, when his fiftieth had been flown, he qualified for a furlough. The married 27-year-old headed home to surprise his wife, Jeanette, and his brand new son - born just three months earlier.

During the war, Jeanette waited for Richard on their small Pleasanton farm, originally homesteaded by her grandfather in the 1800s. Located on Stanley Boulevard, the farm produced walnuts, milk, eggs and chickens.

Richard's parents, Tom and Leitha Irby, eventually lived in Pleasanton, too, after relocating from Oklahoma.

The so-far-lucky serviceman's surprise visit home evolved into a terrible twist of fate. Arriving in the U.S. aboard a "war-weary" B17, Richard was knocked out cold when it crashed on takeoff in Miami. On board were also "a few Navy boys," Jeanette recalled, hitching a ride to San Antonio where the plane was scheduled to be junked or reconditioned.

One of the "boys" was looking out a window watching the engine burn on one wing, Richard later told Jeanette. When the plane crashed, she said, he was decapitated. Irby, news reports said at the time, spent extra time in the hospital as a result of the severe shock he'd suffered.

According to the reports, two men died - Richard remembers seven - three broke their backs, and First Lt. Irby endured second degree burns over much of his legs, one of which was broken.

Jeanette, now 86, said her husband, who couldn't walk, still bears scars on his elbows from crawling up an embankment to escape the burning plane. Irby might have burned alive - but for the pilot and radioman who went back in the plane to pull him out and save him.

He spent three months in the hospital recovering from his injuries - 144 inches of skin taken from his hips and buttocks were grafted where he'd been burned. Irby was amazed the day military personnel gave him back his satchel, salvaged from the burned out plane Inside were assorted scorched papers, including his Honorable Discharge from the Army, received after he enlisted in the Air Force.

Irby finished out the war stateside as a radar instructor at Langley Field in Virginia, where the Irbys had their second child, a daughter.

Once the war was over, the family came back to Pleasanton, lived on the farm, and Richard delivered the dairy and poultry products.

For more than 60 years, Richard and Jeanette managed on their own, even though, as the years progressed, Richard's damaged legs got weaker. Then, on Father's Day, 2004, Richard, 88, had "a little spell," as his wife recalled. After that, he couldn't get up from his wheelchair on his own, and Jeanette didn't have the strength to help him.

So, for the past year, Irby has called the Veteran's Administration nursing home in Livermore "home." Every afternoon at 1 p.m., Jeanette sets out on Stanley Boulevard for the short, freeway-free trip to go and see him. "He's been a charming, charming man all my life. I'm spoiled," she said, smiling fondly.

Despite his declining health, Richard doesn't get depressed. Jeanette credits her husband's disposition, the many volunteers who provide daily activities, and nursing home's quiet, comforting surroundings.

"They need that," Jeanette said of the veterans who, like Richard, now feel at home in Livermore.

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