Operation Bolero – Leg I KPQI – Presque Isle Army Air Field, Maine → CYYR – Goose Bay, Labrador

Follow the historic route to deliver wartime materiel to the United Kingdom.

You stand on the ramp at KPQI, Presque Isle Army Air Field, the eastern edge of the American war effort. Behind you lies the security of the homeland. Ahead of you lies the North Atlantic, a cold, indifferent corridor that must be conquered not by force of arms, but by discipline and endurance.

Your C-47 is loaded with the tools of victory: crates of radios, aircraft parts, canvas, fuel drums, and supplies whose value will only be understood months from now, over skies filled with flak and tracer fire. Today, your mission is simpler and far more dangerous: get the airplane and its cargo safely to CYYR, Goose Bay.

Presque Isle is orderly. Predictable. Professional. Goose Bay is none of those things. It exists because war demanded it. It is not a destination; it is a lifeline.

You taxi out knowing this is not a routine flight. This is the first step across an ocean. When the throttles come forward and the C-47 lifts from KPQI, America does not wave goodbye. It simply lets you go.

The land below hardens quickly. Civilization thins. Forest gives way to tundra. Rivers freeze into white scars across the landscape. Radio traffic fades. The sky grows larger and less forgiving. This is where a pilot’s reputation is no longer built on skill alone, but on judgment.

Hours later, CYYR – Goose Bay appears through layers of cloud and cold haze. The wind is stronger. The light is flatter. The runway looks longer and narrower than it should. Goose Bay does not welcome aircraft; it tolerates them.

Your approach is deliberate. No flourish. No heroics. Only precision. When the wheels touch down, you have done more than land an airplane:

You have moved the war eastward.

Around you are rows of other aircraft, all waiting their turn: Bombers, fighters, transports. All bound for places that have not yet become famous. All silent proof that the Atlantic will be crossed not once, but thousands of times.

The engines wind down. The metal ticks as it cools. The wind cuts through your jacket. Men move without ceremony, without drama. They already know what this means.

This was not transportation. This was commitment.

From KPQI to CYYR, you have taken the first rung on the ladder that leads to Torch, and ultimately, to Normandy.

Operation Bolero is no longer an idea. It is airborne.