BY PETER THOMPSON
Appeal Staff Writer
There were 21 other jumpers on the plane as they skimmed across the English Channel in the early morning hours of Dec. 6, 1944, remembers Ken Plummer, 91, veteran of the 507th Parachute Infantry Regiment.
"All of a sudden there's this big racket inside the plane," he says. His blue eyes fire and then steel-up as he relives the moment, that protracted second of not knowing exactly what was going on in the explosive darkness around him.
Was it life or death?
The men were singing. They were singing "Happy Birthday, Sergeant Plummer!"
Given the circumstances and the task that was at hand, it was the last thing he ever expected to hear, but it's by far his favorite memory of the war.
So, in the early morning hours of D-Day, somewhere over occupied Europe, the radio chief celebrated his 31st year on the planet by jumping out of a plane and into the brutal cauldron of the most vicious war in world history, the flak-filled crackling flashes erupting in the sky around him as he sailed to the ground, landing in a flooded French field, some 25 miles behind enemy lines.
More than 60 years later, his military brothers (this time a pair of Marines) have found another way to sing the praises of the 91-year-old Carson City resident - by finally getting him his Veterans Affairs benefits.
As volunteers for the Nevada Legacy Corps, a nonprofit organization chartered to support veterans, Marines Ken Stanfield and Les Laberee did what they call the impossible when it comes to dealing with the VA - they got quick, positive results.
It started last year when Stanfield was installing a Lifeline phone in the Plummers' house and saw a picture of the WWII vet.
"It turns out this guy was a paratrooper just like me," he says. After trading war stories, Stanfield asked what kind of VA benefits Plummer was receiving.
"None," was the answer. Nothing but his $410.19 monthly pension check from his post-war years with the railroad, and even that was going to supplement Medicare costs.
Plummer's wife of 71 years, Ethel, says they had to empty their savings to pay medical bills after Plummer suffered a stroke.
She holds up an X-ray of her husband's chest. There's a bullet lodged below the right ribcage. A Nazi birthday present he sustained while trying to engage an overwhelming force of German troops. The bullet missed his lung by 1/8 of an inch.
"They told us we outnumbered the Germans by 6 to 1," he says. "I figured there'd be six Americans around me somewhere," remembering why he charged so boldly through the swampy dark to engage a nearby German platoon.
"Well, that's what they told us anyhow," he laughs.
A bullet in his chest, flat on his face, Plummer had the presence of mind to dig a hole under his stomach to hide his radio code book and wave his friend George Melrose on to a safer hedgerow before being taken prisoner by the Germans. He was a POW for 11 months.
The only thing Plummer took home from the war was that piece of Nazi lead.
"Once these guys got home they went right back to civilian life," says Stanfield. "They didn't know or worry about what they rightfully had coming to them."
"Here's a man who never asked for anything in his life. He didn't even have to go fight."
Working for the Western Pacific Railroad (now Union Pacific), Plummer was involved in "essential industry," a designation that could've kept him safe at home in the states.
Plummer sneers at the thought. "I didn't want to be involved in the draft," he says. "I wanted to be in a volunteer outfit. I'm one of these guys - you start waving the American flag and I get excited," he says, shifting his legs on the ottoman. "I'm ready to go now!"
"It's just great to see a guy get what he deserves," says Stanfield.
The Nevada Legacy Corps is still working on getting Plummer his medals, at least two bronze stars, his POW medal and two Purple Hearts.
"We still have some homework to do but hopefully if a guy like Congressman (Jim) Gibbons, (R-Nev.,) gets involved, we can speed things up," says Stanfield.
Les Laberee hopes Plummer's story will inspire other veterans to seek out assistance.
"Some of these guys think they're too old or that because they didn't serve in active duty combat they're not eligible for service-connected benefits," he says. "It's simply not true."
For Ken and Ethel Plummer, the check is in the mail, including back payment of benefits and the promise of future medical coverage.
For Marines Stanfield and Laberee, it's part of their self-appointed duty to pay back the generation of soldiers who won the term "uncommon valor."
"This time the system worked like it's supposed to," says Stanfield.
n Contact reporter Peter Thompson at pthompson@nevadaappeal.com or 881-1215.