It was 1957. After flying F-86's for 3 1/2 years at Chicago's O'Hare Field, I was
sent to Okinawa, leaving my wife and infant daughter in Sault Ste. Marie, MI. The
drill was for me to get `checked out' in my new unit, the 16th FIS, find a private
rental and then apply for Pat and Ellen to join me. The wait for base housing was
about a year so off-base housing was the way to go, and even that took about four
months.
Regulations provided that if I had a child less than 6 months old, 1 could return stateside and accompany my dependents back overseas. I fit the bill but travel was on a "Morale Leave" basis, almost the lowest priority.
After two days waiting at Kadena, I made it up to Haneda Air Base near Tokyo. While waiting at Haneda I bought a TWA ticket for the flight from San Francisco to Chicago. It was a good thing I did because the railroads were on strike and the airlines and buses were jammed.
Finally, after four days of waiting and watching, I was on my way to Travis AFB, California. And my TWA flight was waiting to take me to O'Hare. However, there was absolutely nothing up to the "Soo", and I was stuck at my sisters’ house in Itasca, not far from O'Hare.
I decided to call my old squadron CO in the 62nd, Major Ken Daniels. Since it was a Friday evening I found him at the O'Club during Beer Call! Listening to all my old fighter pilot pals in the background, I explained my predicament. Not even waiting for me to ask, Ken told me to be at the flight line "tomorrow morning at 0730!", and he hung up!!
You better believe I was there. Sure enough, there were several crew chiefs preparing a T-33 and my friend Oscar Dardeaux was waiting with a big grin and a handshake.
My nickname then was "Any" so it was obvious for Oscar (I called him Oscaroo Dardoo) to just bluntly say - "OK Any Burns, here's a helmet and chute. Put `em on, climb in and let's go!"
It's roughly 500 miles to Sault Ste. Marie and the weather at Kinchloe AFB was fierce bad - low ceiling, bad visibility, and snowing. But we made it in and I quickly headed to Ops to call Pat. Mumma, my mother-in-law, answered and was amazed that I was there. She told me that Pat was at Mass, but as soon as she came home, she'd send her out to the base.
I helped Oscar get ready for the return flight. Before long Pat showed up. I should tell you that I hadn't notified her of my plans to come home and she thought I was still on Okinawa. Wow! She had a great reunion with Oscaroo, who got plenty of hugs and kisses before climbing into the T-Bird and heading back to O'Hare.
Now there's something else I didn't tell you. It was Christmas Eve 1957, and my good friend Oscar had given up that day with Fran and HIS children to help get me home to MY family for Christmas.
I never saw Oscar again. The last he was seen, his F-105 was on fire heading NW over Hanoi, about the same time that Jane Fonda was hugging and posing with the North Vietnamese gunners. About ten years later, Vietnam released the remains of several U.S. servicemen killed in action. `Oscaroo' went from MIA to KIA, and was one step closer to his home in Baton Rouge.
No portion of this article may be used or reprinted without permission
from the President of the F-86 Sabre Pilots Association or the editor of Sabre Jet
Classics magazine.
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