Gilberta Guth's just-released book, The Fighter Pilot's Wife , describes her life as she followed her husband, a dashing young Air Force jet fighter pilot, around the world during WW II, the Korean "Police Action" and the Vietnam War.

Excerpt from The Fighter Pilot's Wife

Following the memorial service there was a reception at the Officers' Club. People went up to Pat, unable to speak, wordlessly expressing their grief by taking her in their arms, crying and allowing her to cry with them. Joe and I were sitting down when Pat came over and sat down beside us.

"Joe," she said. "I want you to do something for me." "Sure, Pat... anything," he answered.

"I want you to drive me out to where Pete's plane crashed."

Joe looked stricken. "Oh, no, Pat. You don't want to do that."

She replied, "Look, Joe, I'm a nurse. I know what death is like. I want to see the place where Pete died."

She would not relent in her request, in spite of Joe's strong efforts to dissuade her. Joe went over to where Colonel Bower was standing, and the two men spoke quietly for a moment. Returning to where Pat and I were sitting, Joe took her by the arm to lead her out to our car, and I followed. The three of us got in, with Joe and Pat in the front seat and myself in back.

We drove the short distance to the end of the runway. The sun had just gone down, and in the twilight we saw a small blackened crater where Pete's aircraft had impacted. The wreckage had been cleared away. Pat got out of the car and Joe jumped out after her. I followed them to the edge of the crater, and the three of us stood there in the twilight, looking at the wound in the earth. "My heart is broken right... down... the middle," Pat faltered.

Joe put his arm around her shoulders, and told her, "The heart doesn't break, Pat. It takes a heavy hit, but it doesn't break."

Pat started to weep, and we stood there with her, both of us holding her, trying to find the words that might offer her some degree of solace. But there were no words. Just the twilight, and the sound of Pat softly sobbing.

As the darkness began to deepen, Joe said, "Come on, Pat. Let's go back." We returned to the Club, where Pete's flying comrades, their wives, and other friends continued to go to Pat, murmuring softly to her through their tears, holding her.

Over the next few days Pat's house was filled with packers, movers, and those of us who wanted to be with her to help in any way possible. Her belongings were moved out, we said our tearful goodbyes, and then she and her baby girl were gone.

Offering an inside look at military family life spanning WWII through the Korean and Vietnam Wars, this memoir not only chronicles the heroism of those in combat but that of the wives and families at home as they live under the constant shadow of potential loss. Married at the age of 22 to a dashing young jet pilot, young bride Gilberta Guth embarked on what was for many years a global journey, following her husband all over the world as he pursued his career. From their honeymoon in Las Vegas to an Ichibon sayonara and a St. Gobain au revoir to his final assignment in civilian life, she stood by his side and raised their four children. In the process she learned to cope with the tragic death of young pilots and how the other wives and family members comforted the widows and helped them pack up their children and leave the familial embrace of the military. Reproductions of letters, photos, and newspaper clippings further enrich this moving account of the challenges faced by a military family in both wartime and peacetime.

About the Author

Gilberta Guth married an Air Force fighter pilot in 1953 and traveled around the world with him to his different military postings. She lives in Novato, California.