Desmond Xavier Sengele, Jr. was born in Victoria, Texas in 1921.
In his early childhood, Des was a mischievous boy. He’d ride his bicycle fifteen miles to go fishing and/or hunting, never telling his parents. They rarely disciplined him.
One day, as a teenager, he rode his bike down a steep street standing on the bike seat. People who saw him were scared he’d fall and hurt himself. They told his parents, “Get him to stop.“ But his parents came with a camera. They told Des, “Do it again. We want to snap your photo.”
Desmond dropped out of high school. He managed to get enough money to open a filling station and operated it for a year. He was very mechanically minded and could build or fix almost anything. He loved motorcycles and boats, and built them from anywhere he found “scraps.”
He sold that business, and graduated in 1940, at age 19.
Meanwhile, he learned to play the drums, guitar and the xylophone. He loved Glenn Miller music, and really liked Bob Wills, Chet Atkins, and Hank Williams. Des was also a great jitterbug dancer.
Desmond Sengele enlisted in the U. S. Army Air Corps in February 1941. He was stationed at Eagle Field in Dos Palos, a small town in central California. There he learned much needed discipline from non-commissioned officers, and conformed to rules and regulations. Gradually, he learned to fly numerous types of airplanes including Bell P-39 Air-cobra’s and P-63’s.
With all his training and experience in flying, he became a Fighter Pilot Instructor (FPI.)
He trained hundreds of new pilots starting them in small planes, then taught them various combat maneuvers such as how to strafe and dive-bomb, and also how to fly high enough to protect the large bombers from enemy aircraft. Different maneuvers were dangerous and required more hours in the air. Des worked very hard in training his squadrons.
Serious problems arose from time to time. Numerous planes had engine cut outs, but Des was able to start them. He got into those planes and corrected the faults and stalls. He fixed many planes and gave details to the mechanics so they could fix those defective problems.
The worst of all his Air Force experiences was that he also witnessed the death of several of his trainees due to some planes being faulty.
He loved serving in the Air Force. He became First Lieutenant Desmond X. Sengele, Jr. and was within six weeks of being promoted to the rank of Captain.
On May 28, 1944, while training other pilots, his plane engine stalled. He couldn’t restart it. The gliding plane lost all altitude and crashed into a row of treetops.
Due to the severe impact, Des became unconscious. Some minutes later when he came to, he realized he was alive and felt his face had been badly scratched by all the tree branches and heavy brush. He also smelled gasoline fumes. He knew he had to get away from the burning plane in case it would blow up.
Despite all his body pains, he struggled to pull himself out on the wing and painstakingly allowed himself to fall to the ground and crawl away as far as he could manage.
Two pilots flew above the crash site, trying to determine their commander’s plight.
Des managed to wave his white scarf to show them he was alive.
They dipped their plane wings to show they saw him. They reported his crash site, but were so new in their training, that they did not take proper bearings of his location.
As Des lay on the ground, suffering not only from his facial injuries, he also felt sure his right leg was broken and surmised he also had a spinal injury. He felt cold. He wondered when he would be rescued.
Time passed. He looked at his wristwatch many times, hoping he would be found before dark. Approximately six hours later, Jack Mullins, a forest ranger who saw the smoke from the crash, found Des. Jack aided in trying to make Des as comfortable as possible by putting his own jacket over Des’ arms and back. Jack’s presence comforted Des while they chatted.
Other rescuers arrived about an hour later. They explained they had to use machetes to cut a path through the bushy terrain. Working together, they managed to get Des into an area where he was lifted into an ambulance.
He was flown to Brook General Hospital in San Antonio and stayed there a little over a year as he recovered from his spinal-cord injuries. He lost the use of both legs at age 22.
Whenever family members went to the VA Hospital, they always found the nurses and doctors were highly respectful and kind to Des.
After his accident and gradual recovery, Des went back to Victoria and lived a relatively normal life, except not being able to ever walk again. If his legs didn’t work his mind did.
No one ever heard him complain about being in a wheelchair. He just kept rolling on doing the best he could.
He never stopped living a determined full life. As a hobby, he drew house plans for friends. He also supervised the construction of small, modest homes. He was a great builder, and he made sure everything was done right the first time,
In 1966, he built his dream home so his family could live in a nice, 5000 square-foot, single story custom-built home.
No one ever heard him complain about being in a wheelchair. He just kept rolling on doing the best he could despite his inability to walk. He always did things for his family and many friends. He worked very intensely, especially, to provide for his family.
Des retrofitted a tractor so he and his family could cultivate the rows of cotton on their farm.
In his spare time he built boats.
Des and Ruth Ann stayed married for fifty-five years and she always stayed close with him. They had seven children.
Near the end of his life, as he lay in a hospital bed, surrounded by his loving family, each child spoke to him of what a wonderful father he is, and how much he provided for them. Ruth Ann told Des how happy and proud she is to be married to such a wonderful man.
Each child held his hand, as they comforted their father.
One sibling said, “Dad, you are so strong.”
Des squeezed her hand and whispered, ”They don’t make’em any stronger.”
He died an hour later.