Operation Christmas Drop Part 1: Local Perspective

Kids are initially scared of Operation Christmas Drop, now they proudly expect it on a yearly basis

Operation Christmas Drop is the Air Force’s longest-running humanitarian which began in 1952. Airmen today continue the tradition delivering supplies to remote islands of the Commonwealth of the Northern Marianas Islands, Yap, Palau, Chuuk and Pohnpei. What started as a WB-50 aircrew returning to Guam on its final flight before Christmas has turned into the longest running humanitarian campaign in the history of the U.S. Air Force and the entire world.

When an Oregon long-time resident heard of ‘Operation Christmas Drop,’ he remembered as a young child on Houk (also known as Pulusuk, an outer island in Chuuk), he was always fond of two events involving the Christmas Drops: One was his brother running around scared of the plane; the other was of himself in his white overalls (“a gift from heaven”), which he proudly wore until he outgrew them.

INITIALLY, FEAR RULES

“One time,” Bius Umulap said, smiling, “we were at the lake swimming (there is a brackish body of water in the middle of his island) when the plane came. My older brother, Matt, was so scared he forgot to grab his clothes as we fled. When we got to the house, an old lady was chasing him around with a lava-lava (wrap around) to cover his nakedness.”

Matt was a rather young man, way older than Bius. The younger Umulap was probably 5 years old. He also said: “In those days, the kids—including myself—were scared of the airplane because of the noise they made.”

t wasn’t just the noise that scared them, but stories and memories of strafing, fresh in everyone’s minds from WWII some little less than a decade ago. (Low-flying aircraft would fire high-speed rounds using aircraft-mounted automatic weapons. This military tactic is called strafing.)

In 1944, the Americans conducted a massive attack on Chuuk Lagoon called “Operation Hailstone,” as part of a retaliatory objective after Pearl Harbor.

Part of the attack, “the three carrier task groups committed to Hailstone moved into position and began launching their first fighter sweep 90 minutes before daybreak on 17 February 1944. No Japanese air patrol was active at the time, as the IJN’s 22nd and 26th Air Flotillas were enjoying shore leave after weeks on high alert following the Liberator sightings. Similarly problematic for the Japanese, radar on Truk was not capable of detecting low-flying planes—a weakness probably known and exploited by Allied intelligence organizations. Because of these factors, U.S. carrier aircraft achieved total surprise” (https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Hailstone).

It probably was part of the “first fighter sweep 90 minutes before daybreak” that caught kids and adults off-guard, sending everybody scurrying back into the treelines, as U.S. warplanes were hunting down the Japanese soldiers on many outlying islands strewn outside of the Chuuk Lagoon. It was such a horrible experience. This low flying altitude—which today would, literally, vibrate the ground—would attract the young kids in great numbers to come out and count “the huge birds.” But before they could get one word out, the planes assaulted the beach. Chaos filled the air. The next minute, kids were crying and adults were swooping in, grabbing up the next child and bringing them back into the safety of treelines.

FEAR TURNED INTO JOY

So, as the Operation Christmas Drop roared overhead, the initial fear these kids had was near paralysis, evident in Bius’ brother forgetting his wrap-around. After the initial fear wore-off, the enjoyment then slowly began.

“My fondest memory, however,” Umulap also said, beaming; “was of Christmas Drop this one year, I got a short corduroy overall. I wore that thing—a white one—to midnight mass on Christmas Eve.”

He was so proud of it. That was his fondest memory, wearing those overalls everywhere.

UMULAP, COUSIN GRATEFUL

As they grew older, Umulap said, the kids of his tiny island had become fathers and grandfathers already; and by then had gotten used to the Christmas drops. The operations had become part of their lives, and were always looking forward to them.

“We’re very blessed,” he said, “that the US Air Force continues with the Christmas drops to this day. We’re very, very grateful from the bottom of our hearts!”

This year the island received four big boxes of goodies from the sky—“complete with parachutes still attached to them,” according to Umulap’s cousin, Colby Kilirho. He said the men retrieved the boxes, then the Chief distributed all the goodies to each household on the island.

Echoing how grateful Umulap was, Kilirho simply said, “A joy immeasurable for the kids, and adults alike. Killisou chapur nganir donors me heion (thank you to all the donors).”

“Ir rhon drop kena nge rapwe weri amam kihilamw me leiinú pwe epwakin ammehaik amam weri torotiwen me pwoolón chute kewe,” Kilirho also said. “Letiparh epwakin uran mehaik pwe ika e wairah minika ekan torikemam ren outon pwor kah. We don’t get them very often. You can see the children’s faces beaming with joy.”

[The crew would, no doubt, see us looking, waiting for our ‘gift from heaven’ from behind the coconut trees. It is such an exhilarating feeling when we see boxes being pushed and dropped into the sea, with chutes and all. We become very thrilled and excited, and at the same time very grateful because we don’t get these things very often, otherwise.]

Again, Kilirho said repeatedly, thank you very much from deep down in my heart—donors, crews, supporters, USAF, allies and everyone involved in one capacity or another.

For more information contact: christmasdroporganization@gmail.com