January 16, 2011
DoD Civilian/Military Service Review Board
1535 Command Dr., EE Wing, 3rd Floor
Andrews AFB, MD 20762-7002
Dear DoD Civilian/Military Service Review Board Members:
I am writing to request a determination by the DoD Civilian/Military Service Review Board for my father’s eligibility to be awarded the USAF Silver Star posthumously.
It has recently come to my attention that Colonels Bruce Olmstead and John McKone were awarded the Silver Star in October 2004 and it is unfortunate that my father was not considered for the same recognition at that time since all three men were shot down by the Soviets in 1960, held at Lubyanka Prison during the same time period, and awarded the POW Medal subsequent to their return home to the United States after their imprisonment.
On May 1, 2000, my father was posthumously awarded by the USAF and the CIA the POW Medal, the Distinguished Flying Cross, the National Service Medal, and the CIA Director’s Medal. My father’s service records were updated at that time to show that his time spent in the U-2 program between approximately 1956 and 1962 should count as military service.
I have attached the redacted files on my earlier AFBCMR [Air Force Board of Correction of Military Records] determination for issuance of his POW Medal and update of his military service records as supporting documentation for this request.
In conclusion, the awarding of the Silver Star to Colonels Bruce Olmstead and John McKone in and of itself should be enough evidence and set the necessary precedence for my father’s eligibility to also be awarded the Silver Star. I look forward to hearing from you soon with a favorable determination. If you should have any questions or need additional information, please do not hesitate to call.
Thank you for your assistance.
Truthfully, I thought, after the POW Medal and the others Dad received in 2000, we were done. I never imagined any additional honors from the government. I knew this was a much bigger deal.
For months, paperwork shuttled back and forth between me, various military officials, and Congressman Cantor’s office. In recommending the honor up the chain of command, Lieutenant Colonel Cheryl Beineke, Deputy Director of the Secretary of the Air Force Personnel Council, concluded: “Due to the clandestine and sensitive nature of the overflight operations that Powers was engaged in, global political tensions of the day, and other ongoing negotiations, no medals were presented when Powers was released and returned to the United States.”9
After being forced to repeatedly make the case for Dad to receive the POW Medal, I expected resistance from the Air Force. So I was rendered virtually speechless on December 15, 2011, when I went to my mailbox and tore open the latest letter from the Air Force.
December 8, 2011
Under the authority of Section 1552, Title 10, United States Code and Air Force Instruction 36-2603, and having assured compliance with the provisions of the above regulation, the decision of the Air Force Board for Correction of Military Records is announced, and it is directed that:
The pertinent military records of the Department of the Air Force relating to FRANCIS G. POWERS (DECEASED)… be corrected to show that he be awarded the Silver Star for gallantry in action during the period 1 May 1960 to 10 February 1962.
Not only was the honor nearly a half a century in the making, but it would not have been possible if I had not vigorously argued a decade earlier for Washington to consider my father’s time with the CIA as part of his military service. This bureaucratic achievement was the foundation on which the Silver Star was bestowed.
It was the best Christmas present of my life.
Many young people suffer the loss of a parent. The tragedy hits us all differently, and, one way or another, we all try to cope. My search to find meaning in my father’s life also served a deeper purpose. It was my way of dealing with the unfinished business Francis Gary Powers left behind on the first day of August in 1977.
Assembling the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle became a kind of therapy. I wasn’t just seeking redemption for my father. I was also seeking a measure of peace for myself.
My sister, Dee, observed my journey from a unique perspective.
Especially after she moved out at age eighteen to pursue a career in the military, Dee felt distanced from me. “For a long time, I think our mother made sure we weren’t friends,” she said. “I can’t really explain why. But fortunately we became closer through the years and eventually got to where we have a good relationship.”
She understood what a triumphant moment the Silver Star was for me. “I think Gary wandered without a voice for a while,” she said. “But he found that voice in making sure our dad was remembered the way he should have been. It made me very happy to watch him find that inner peace.”
My private battle to recast our father’s place in the history books culminated inside the Pentagon’s ornate Hall of Heroes, where a small group of relatives and friends gathered alongside various high-ranking officials of the military and intelligence establishment.
“Never seen so much brass in my life,” said Bob Kallos, who made the trip from Philadelphia with his twelve-year-old daughter. “It was pretty intimidating and humbling.”
Chris Conrad watched closely as I moved through the crowd, greeting the invited guests, before the program began. “I remember being so proud of Gary, not just for this incredible accomplishment, which would not have happened without him pushing for it, …but also to see this guy who had once been kind of awkward and unsure of himself mature into this very polished guy who’s confident and quite a good public speaker,” recalled Conrad, who flew in from California. “Several of his closest friends were there. We all have busy schedules, but we wanted to be there for Gary. We all understood what a profoundly wonderful moment this was for him.”
Former U-2 pilot Carl Overstreet wished his old friend Frank could be there to see the big fuss.
As part of my effort to learn about my dad, I had gotten to know Carl and his wife, Elizabeth. “Carl thought very highly of [Frank] and he was able to tell Gary about his dad,” Elizabeth said. “Carl always said he was a good guy, a good pilot, and a hero.”
Seated in the front row, Jen fretted about nine-year-old Trey, who was about to play an important role in the ceremony. “I was worried that he would have stage fright and would be intimidated by all the cameras,” she said.
After speaking for a few minutes about Francis Gary Powers’s service to his country, General Norman Schwartz, the Air Force chief of staff, presented the box containing the medal to the grandchildren the pilot never got to know: Dee’s grown daughter, Lindsey, and Francis Gary Powers III, who impressed everyone with his poise and manners.
“I was just so proud,” Jan Powers Melvin said. “So many emotions pouring over me in that special room, which most people never get to see. I just wish Francis could have been there.”
All those years after my father returned home amid such ambivalence, the citation acknowledged that he was “interrogated, harassed, and endured unmentionable hardships on a continuous basis by numerous top Soviet Secret Police interrogation teams,” while “resisting all Soviet efforts through cajolery, trickery and threats of death,” and exhibiting “indomitable spirit, exceptional loyalty, and continuous heroic actions.”11