The Sorority Sister and the Pilot, 3

Bill graduated from Mount Union College of Ohio in 1938 and worked for the Ohio State Unemployment Office for the stupendous salary of $115 per month. In 1940 when an army “fly boy” came through the office inviting those eligible to apply for the United States Army Air Corps, Bill signed up. He remembers, “The salary was $225 per month plus travel and glamour! I wasn’t sure what an airplane was but the money sounded great.”

In June 1941 Bill graduated from flight school in Alabama and was immediately assigned to Hickam Field as a bomber pilot. He admits, “I was never a star in formation flying, I’ve always suspected that’s why I wasn’t chosen to be a fighter pilot. The guys I went to flight school with called me ‘Lucky Sam.’” But when I asked him why he got that name, he answered, “Sam’s my middle name. My friend, Phil Rasmussen still calls me that.” He winked. “Phil and I would ride around Honolulu in our new Chevy convertibles at 70 miles an hour. That was the kind of formation flying I understood!”

One of Bill and Phil’s routine adventures was to go down to the dock to meet the Lurline. “We’d look over the ‘crop’ of college girls that came in,” he said. “I missed the afternoon Ruth arrived, but coincidentally, I was invited to the Cal party by a fellow officer at Hickam. When I met Ruth, it was love at first sight.”
Ruth doesn’t remember their first meeting so fondly. She says, “I thought he was a typical fly boy. He was fortified by rum and Coca Cola and I didn’t think much of him. Bill asked me out on a date for the next night. I said yes, but I did it to appease him. In his condition, I assumed he would never remember me by morning.”

Ruth left that party with another army lieutenant. She can’t remember his name, just that they went to get ice cream and he took her straight back to her room with not even a handshake between them. But, unknown to Ruth, Bill was already jealous.

The next day when Bill called Ruth to confirm the date, she said, “Oh, I thought you were kidding. I have a date with the Navy.” Bill was furious. “The Navy!” He shook his head as he told the story. “I swore I would never call her again.”


PHOTO: Hangar 11 at Hickam Field, December 7, 1941

But Bill was already in love; he went to his best friend, Phil Rasmussen, for advice, and Phil came up with the idea of taking Ruth on a beach picnic. “Phil and I always had a ‘kit’ for beach parties in the trunks of our cars—complete with a barbecue grill and an army wool blanket.”

Ruth accepted and Bill picked her up in his red Chevy convertible. “The blanket didn’t impress her,” Bill recalls. “And that set the tone for our 1941 romance.”

However, day by day, Ruth’s opinion of Bill softened and when it was time for her to return to California, she told one of her sorority sisters she was going to stay in Hawaii and find a place to live because, “I think Lt. Cope might ask me to marry him.”

Bill finished the story. “Well, Ruth didn’t say yes without a qualification. She said yes, then added, ‘By the way, I love you.’”

Ruth Lindman and William Cope married at the Hickam Officers’ Club on November 27, 1941. Phil Rasmussen was their best man.
PHOTOS: Hickam Air Field, December 7, 1941 (U.S. Air Force)