After World War II, a new struggle gripped Europe when Soviet forces blockaded West Berlin, leaving millions without food, fuel, and vital supplies. This is the remarkable story of Gail Halverson, a young US Army Air Corps pilot who became a hero during the legendary Berlin Airlift. Assigned as a cargo pilot, Halverson flew countless missions, delivering much-needed humanitarian aid to a city on the brink. His actions, alongside his fellow servicemen, showed the world America’s unwavering dedication to freedom and hope, literally keeping the light on for West Berliners.

Growing up on a Utah farm, Gail Halverson understood hard work. But nothing prepared him for what he saw in Berlin. Landing his plane filled with flour, he met the eyes of desperate Berliners, realizing this mission was deeply personal. This story follows Halverson’s journey, revealing the powerful human connections he made, especially with the children gathered near the airfield. It’s a testament to how kindness and courage, even in the smallest gestures, can shine through the bleakest circumstances, building hope and strengthening the ties between people longing for freedom.

📖 Read the Episode Transcript
00:00:10 Speaker 1: This is Lee Habib, and this is Our American Stories, the show where America is the star and the American people. And by the way, to check out Our American Stories podcast, subscribe on the iHeartRadio app or wherever you get your podcasts. Up next, the story of Gail Halverson, a young pilot in the US Army Air Corps who was assigned as a cargo pilot at the Berlin Airlift, in which US forces flew much needed supplies into a war torn Soviet blockaded Berlin following World War II. Gail grew up on a farm in Utah and joined the Army Air Corps in June of nineteen forty two.

00:00:53 Speaker 2: Here’s Colonel Halverson.

00:00:55 Speaker 1: With the story, beginning with the three reasons why he and his fellow servicemen saw the Berlin Airlift as necessary.

00:01:07 Speaker 3: I stayed in the Air Force, the Army Air Corps at the time, after the war, and that we wanted to keep flying. And we were briefed in our pilot meetings all the time, every month, about the world’s situation after the war, and we knew from these briefings the new enemy was Stalin and Communism. He’d just taken Czechoslovakia, had the popular democratic leader assassinated, taking Hungary. We knew he was headed west. The second factor was we knew that most of the two million, two point five million people in Berlin, in West Berlin, were women and children. Very few men. And the stars man take fresh milk or food from babies, from and from women and children. That’s a mitigating factor on how we felt about what we’re doing. The third one was when I landed on my first trip into Berlin of twenty thousand pounds of flour and opened that, have that back door. A crew chief went back, open the door. In came these Germans, six of them downloaded, about six in the semi trip. I wondered how these supermen are going to look. And they had mixed uniforms, part uniform Parsivanian, put doctors or Weimart privates all together for one purpose. They needed freedom, they needed flour. We had both. And when I got out of cockpit and walked back, and the lead man came right up, put his hand in mine and gripped it and looked me in the eye, and his eyes were moist and looked down at that flour like rangels from heaven. And we were on the same page. So there are three factors. So I got to go to Berlin and see them on the ground. I had a friend in Berlin who says, “You get here. I got a jeep for in the driver. You take you over and you see everything.” And so one day I came back and it was about the seventeenth of July. Came back and landed at Rhine Mind about noon. It was a beautiful day, sunshine. I was supposed to go to bed, fly that night. Had the movie camera in my hand, and Bill Christian, a buddy from Mobile, Alabama, was in the in an airplane in the next hardstand, Lord of dry Potatoes, ready to go to Berlin, just getting ready to start the engines. That, holy cow, what an opportunity! Beautiful day, Bill’s going. I’ll just jump on the airplane with him. I’m not going to bed. I got a jeep waiting for him in Berlin. I get off the fly line. I’ll go over the sea and get these great movies. And so, “Well, John Pickering, my copalt, go to bed, John. You and Elkins get to bed. I’m going to Berlin.” He said, “You’re crazy,” and I said, “I know, but I’m going to Berlin. If this thing stops tomorrow, they’re going to send us all home. They’re not going to let everybody go sside seeing to Berlin. And I want to see Berlin. I want to see Hitler’s bunker. I want to see the richestar got close. I loved history, and here I was right in the middle of it.” I said, “I want it. It’s going to be, or I’m going to Berlin. I’ll see if before I go back. All he need is the uniform. Airplanes come back five, no reservations required.” So, uh, I jumped on the airplane, went back. We called in, and Jeep was waiting. But, uh, before I went around town, I wanted to get on the end of the runway and take pictures of the airplanes coming over the buildings before we had it come between the buildings. And that’s—that’s, uh, that’s how dumb I was. I thought it was going to be over that quick caught. I was there to get movies if I ever had any kids, to show them the approach. And so I went around there and started shooting movies. The airplanes coming over barbar fence in front of me, bombed out buildings, a couple hundred yards over, and then suddenly, here were the kids. See the color of their eyes? They’re right up against me, looking at this uniform was bombing them three years before, maybe killed their dad in law, who knows. And I didn’t know how they get. I’d looked down. All of a sudden there’s thirty kids, about roughly thirty, standing right on the other side of the barbar from me, looking at me. And they were friendly. And I thought, why would they be friendly? You know, here’s that uniform right here. And it was the first time they seen a uniform up course. The military rushing the first witch is terror and occupation guys. Later then I found out later why they were so friendly because their aunts and uncles or Arbortray cut off with the border. Not cut off because you’ve walked across the border then, but they could walk across the border. Their aunts and uncles and whoever, the close family type, come over to West Berlin to use the library to see what’s going on in the world. They’d lost their freedom. They lost freedom of the press, the freedom expression, freedom of travel, freedom of religion, freedom of electing who they wanted to be their ruler. They’d lost that, so they were over there, and they were telling their aunts and uncles then, “I can’t travel, I can’t do this, can’t do that.” And they knew, they knew then, what con is like. They had missionaries, and the conists, not for this program, but negative missionaries, said, “Hey, this is not very cool, buddy.” You know how you knew these guys, though: they were friendly.

00:07:03 Speaker 1: And you’re listening to Colonel Gail Halverson tell the story of why the Berlin Airlift was necessary.

00:07:10 Speaker 2: The people of Germany knew who we were. We were on

00:07:13 Speaker 1: their side and on the side of freedom. When we come back, more of this remarkable story not told enough in America’s classrooms, the story of the Cold War, the story of the Berlin Airlift. Here on Our American Stories, Lie Hibib, here, the host of Our American Stories.

00:07:35 Speaker 2: Every day on this show, we’re bringing

00:07:37 Speaker 1: inspiring stories from across this great country, stories from our big cities and small towns. But we truly can’t do the show without you. Our stories are free to listen to, but they’re not free to make. If you love what you hear, go to OurAmericanStories.com and click the donate button. Give a little, give a lot. Go to OurAmericanStories.com and give, and we continue with Our American Stories and the story of Colonel Halveson, and in the end, the story of the Berlin Airlift and why it was so necessary and in the end so remarkable and emblematic of the people, the country that made it happen.

00:08:27 Speaker 3: American style freedom was their dream, and Hitler’s passed in Stalin’s future was their nightmare. They knew, those kids eight to fourteen, they will giving me a lesson about freedom. “Look,” he said, “it’s pretty good here in July. You know, the weather’s not too bad, gas some storms. But you wait.” They had school English; they spoke. Someone spoke pretty good English. School. I couldn’t speak any German. They said, “Come the winner.” “In the fall, you can’t get in here. It’s going to be bad.” “Kids, give me a lecture,” said, “but when that happens, don’t worry about us. We don’t have to have enough to eat. Just don’t give up on us. Someday we’ll have enough to eat. But if you lose your freedom, we’ll never get it back.” American style freedom of their dream. And they knew about the other systems. They didn’t want him to. Those kids were incredible. I just said, “holy count,” and I got so interested in listening to him. I looked at them. While Summer acts I’ve been there over an hour, and I said, “Boy, she might not be waiting. I got to get out of here.” So I started to run, so I said, “See you later, kids,” and got about five steps, and then the kids—I stopped and I said, “Boy, these incredible kids!” I said, “Well, they got a postgraduate degree in international relations. They know what’s important. They got their head screwed on. They really know what’s important.” And it started to walking, and that little voice just kept came back again. I don’t know how it overcame to get to the jeep. “You’re late!” But it did. It don’t treat me. And then I knew in a flash why. And it was because during the war and after the war, walked down the street in the foreign country where the kids had some chocolate, not much, but had some, and those kids would chase yet, going down the street, interception and surround you, begging for chocolate and gum. And of course, the military, since the Continental Army was Washington, going through a town to give kids stuff from the ration—they had a little piece of chocolate or heart dick or something. They’d give it the kids. That’s nothing new. And then I said, “Though they haven’t had any chocolate for months, they haven’t had gum.” They halady knew what gum was anyway, but no chocolate for months. And not one of those kids would lower themselves to be a beggar or something to go striving it as chocolate when they had flour to be free, when they wouldn’t ask for more than freedom, lower themselves to beg for something more. It blew my mind. When somebody gives you a million dollars, you don’t ask for four bucks more. Yeah, you wouldn’t ask for that. Well, they didn’t ask for that cream on the top, because there was so thankful for what freedom meant to them. When I realized that, I just said, “Holy cow, can’t believe it!” Not one child put out their hand, not one. By voice inflection indicated which you got some chocolate or something—not one. So I reached my pocket and just had two sticks a gum. Said, “Holy cow, two sticks are gum! You’re going to have fight! You’re going to have blade noses! Get out of here!” And I said, “Well, I never seen it these kids again. I’ll be flying twenty four hours out of sleep. I’ll be sleeping on the Autoplot’s fine, coming to go in the copil probably, but I can’t come to the fence anymore. I’ll never see these kids again. How could I possibly get in something?” And so, everybody, “Well,” I said, “Well, give it to them; it’s all you got.” Broke it in a half, four pieces, through the bar bar. The kids that were translating, I gave them half a stick. They did most of it, and, boy, they looked like they got a one hundred dollar bill. And, boy, they had got a hold of that. And then here came the rest of kids. There no fight. They just wanted a piece of the wrapper. And the kids with half a stick youm tore off the outer wrapper and the tinfoil and handed it to the kids that didn’t get any anything at all. And the kid that got a piece of paper put it up their nose and smelled it and smelled it a piece of paper. I stood there. It flattened them. Believe what I’ve seen! Holy cow! For thirty cents, I could buy them thirty sticks a gum and they could have the wrapper and everything. But how do I deliver it? I can’t come out here. Could I get some German to deliver it? Who knows what kids would get it, or if he’d even deliver it. By that time, an aeroplane flew over my head and landed right and run away behind me. And I got the idea: “I’m coming in tomorrow. I can deliver it to these kids. I can put it in that open place and I’ll get enough for everybody.” And, boy, and then the red light came on. “So you got to have permission for that. You can’t drop stuff out airplanes unless you get the clearance.” And then I rationalized, and that’s how you get in trouble. That’s the first step getting off the path. And so I thought, “Well, starving two million people, not according to oil anyway, what’s a few sticks a gum?” And so I found myself almost horrified, saying, “Kids, you’d come back tomorrow. Stand in this open place. When I come into land. I’ll drop enough out of the airplane two is before I land if you’ll share it.” “Oh, you’re vold, y’all. Vold will share it.” They said, “You bet,” and bouncing up and down, and I started leaving. They called me back. I said, “What’s the matter? You got to know what airplane you’re in. Every five minutes there’s an aeroplane coming by here.” “Well, I didn’t know what airplane because the airplanes from the Alaska had red noses and red tails. They crashed in the snow they could find them, and the airplanes from Hawaii had coconut palms and stuff on. Everybody had a different singing. And I flew whatever airplane was loaded. I don’t know what airplane, though, for I’m just sure it was a four engine. There are a lot of two engines, see forty. It was still fun, so four angel.” They said, “No, no, off, we’re going to know.” Then I told them, “Wiggle the wings when I come over the beacon of first, uh, before we go ees Berlin to come around the land, all wiggle the wings.” “Boy,” said, “let’s, let’s get out of here. Let’s start this thing.” So I went all over town and got the movies I’ve seen in every documentary every major producer has put out has got my film in it. I took around the city and off of the airlift as it went on, and I took those pictures, went back to several hours where to start flying. That night, I went to Basic change, open twenty four hours a day, bottle I could on a weekly ration, and I didn’t have enough. So I went to my crew and I said, “I got to have your ration.” They gave me theirs. I had a big double handful of chocolate chocolate bars, Hershey Bars, Babe Ruth Bounce, and Doublemint gum, and broke out in three piece, put three parachutes on it, and anksious parachutes and, and, uh, m. Next day flew that night, of course, and the next day after noon, the weather it was good. Looked down there and those kids were right in the open place between the bomb doub buildings and the barbar fences. They hadn’t told anybody else in this small group. And we go the wings and they went crazy. Still see their arms as they came over the bomb up billing. Right behind the pola seats, a flair chute where emergency flares pushed out in case you did have emergency in flight, and it’s easy for the COUCHI stamp between the posse just access that. So as he came over, the head just told push it out, and he pushed it out and unloaded twenty thousand pounds of flour. The Germans did, and worried that somebody had seen the airplane. These parachutes get me in trouble and wind up to take off, and, uh, or they pulled the parachutes over barbeer where they couldn’t get him in the under the field. But he turned tacks it out. There’s three Anses waving through it, all airplanes. Their mouths were going up and down, and we waved, and I said, “Wish they wouldn’t do that, waving all airplanes!” I love. That’s how it started.

00:17:13 Speaker 1: And you’re listening to Colonel Gail Halverson tell the story of how the Berlin Airlift came to be. Two million people trapped without any means of really supporting themselves. We’d bombed many parts of Germany to bits and leave it to American GIs to come up with the idea.

00:17:33 Speaker 2: One, as he said, “a light bulb went off in my head.”

00:17:36 Speaker 1: But then he realized, quote, “You can’t drop stuff off out of airplanes without permission.”

00:17:42 Speaker 2: And then he

00:17:42 Speaker 1: added, “Then I rationalized, and that’s when you get in trouble.”

00:17:46 Speaker 3: More.

00:17:47 Speaker 1: This remarkable story, the story of the Berlin Airlift, the story of American compassion and ingenuity. Here on Our American Stories, and we continue with Our American Stories and the story of Colonel Halveson, and in the end, the story of the Berlin Airlift and why it was so necessary and in the end so remarkable and emblematic of the people, the country that made it happen.

00:18:24 Speaker 3: After the first drop. Let’s say it was about three weeks later when I got called in and chewed out because I didn’t have permission, Colonel Horn, and it was about that long ago. And then they said, “It’s okay, but you got to report down to Frankfort, to the press center at Frankfort.” They want to know all about it, this news release that came out. So it was then I knew that, boy, something read somebody rethought this was a crazy idea. So I went in and all the news, all the news agencies, of course recovering the Berlin herlot. So they were all there in this big press center in Frankfort, and I was pretty humble. The first lieutenant guy and had a chauffeur and a driver and took me into Frankfort in a hurry, and, and all these guys waiting for me for, “Wow, what if I call, what happened?” Then I knew, and, uh, then I was crazy. Everybody was talking about it. When the word got out. We came back from Berlin to the beds, and there’d be boxes of chocolate bars, uh, gum. The guys given the ration and we figured that overall we must have dropped about two hundred and fifty thousand parachutes during the During the course of the flockade, we were able to drop. My buddies dropped after I left. They kept dropping and dropped until the end of September nineteen forty nine, so it went on that long. What happened is that the American Confectioneers Association that represents all the candy makers in America got a hold of me when I was in New York in September nineteen forty eight to pick up an airplane. General Tenner had me stay for a week in New York and appear on the early television program “We the People” and the number of radio talk shows and to inform people about what the airlift was like and in my operation, and the representing the American Confectioneers Association said, “How much of this stuff can you use?” And I gave him some ridiculous number, and later they sent six thousand pounds of chocolates by boat and by rail from through Bremerhaven down to Rhyane Mine. I came back to Berlin one day, and, and, uh, an officer met me there with a cheap and said, “Uh, come with me.” An