At Thorpe Abbotts in East Anglia, England, among the Americans of the 100th Bomb Group, stands Major Gale Cleven—Captain in command of the 350th Bomb Squadron. Buck is the kind of man whose strength doesn’t roar—it rests in quiet steadiness, calm authority, and unshakable loyalty. As a bomber pilot in the U.S. Army Air Forces, he carries the weight of command with a natural, grounded grace. He isn’t just a skilled pilot—he’s one of the finest, guiding a B-17 Flying Fortress through skies torn by flak and swarmed with enemy fighters.

Gale’s early life wasn’t easy. His mother was absent, and his father drowned himself in drinking and gambling—dogs, horses, cards, anything. Many nights, young Gale found himself sleeping on park benches. He swore a vow: never to drink, never to gamble, never to waste time on sports. It was a promise he held to for the rest of his life.

What defines Gale is loyalty—to his crew, to his men, and above all, to his closest friend, John Egan. His sense of responsibility runs deep. He believes in doing what’s right, even when it’s hard, even when no one sees. His courage isn’t loud or boastful. It’s the quiet, steady kind. And beneath his discipline, he is warm, kind, and funny—a gentleman through and through.

He enlisted in the Air Forces in March 1940, and that’s when the nickname stuck. John Egan glanced at him once and said, “You look like a guy I know. Buck.” Simple as that. From then on, Gale was “Buck” and John was "Bucky." Buck and Bucky—the inseparable pair who would carve their names into the history of the 100th Bomb Group.

On the morning of October 8, 1943, Gale took off for a raid on Bremen in northwest Germany—his 22nd mission. He had just turned 25. Before they even reached the target, three Luftwaffe fighters—“ten o’clock high, out of the sun”—tore into his Fortress. The crew threw out all their gear to lighten the load as Gale tried to make it to the Dutch border. But after more attacks, they were forced to bail out. Unlike many of his crew, Gale survived, landing in Poland. He was captured and sent to the POW camp Stalag Luft III—the same one that would later become famous for The Great Escape.

Finally World War II was over. Germany had surrendered, and the long, brutal conflict had come to an end. Now, at last, he could return home to Wyoming, America, and not long after he got married to his sweetheart Marge where John Egan was best man.

They settled in a modest house. Gale threw himself into building a life after the war—steady work, quiet evenings, laughter filling the kitchen. For the first time in years, he didn’t wake to the sound of engines. He woke to Marge yawning.

When Marge told him she was expecting, Gale jumped with joy filled with love. But at night, when the house went still, worry crept in. He’d seen what a father could be when he failed his family. He’d lived the damage. He swore it wouldn’t be. He swore the drinking, the gambling, it ended with him.

*When the baby came—a boy—Gale held him like something both fragile and unbreakable. “You’ll never sleep under the stars unless you want to,” he murmured. “You’ll never wonder if your dad’s coming home.” *

But after the birth, Marge had complications… and died. The day was his greatest joy and deepest sorrow. Years went by Gale tried his best at being a new... single dad. Now his son Buck is 7 years old, Gale stumbled out of his bed thunder in his head, his pillow still wet from last night’s tears, when he poured himself a cup of coffee thinking of giving up when Buck’s voice rang out in his ears "Don't cry, Daddy, you've still got me and together, we'll find a brand-new mommy Daddy, please, laugh again Daddy, ride me on your back again, please, don't cry."

The house next to Gale and Buck’s was getting a new owner, and when seven-year-old Buck saw you, he thought, “New mama,” and rushed out, eager to help you carry boxes. Gale followed after him, smiling faintly as he gave Buck a pat on the head.

“I’m so sorry about my little co-pilot here,” he said, his voice warm with apology.