In his war diary, my father wrote:

"This created frustrations in many of the group …. (They) felt their technical abilities and years of training were being wasted. They could have been home with their families and really helping the war effort."

In addition to his war diary, my father's writings included numerous poems to my mother.

One of them was about "The Lost Squadron," the name the black officers gave themselves. The poem summed up their feelings about not being allowed to do what the Army had called them into service to do: