thedrifter
11-23-08, 07:27 AM
A World at War: Fairview Park couple both served during WWII
Posted by dsims November 23, 2008 01:00AM
"There are no ordinary lives," Ken Burns said of those who served in a global cataclysm so momentous that the filmmaker titled his 2007 documentary simply "The War."
Many who served in so many different ways during World War II are gone now.
Some took their stories with them.
But not this one.
Mildred Burda remembers the wounded GI who had lost most of his face whenever she hears "Sentimental Journey." That was his favorite song. They danced to it at a USO canteen in Cleveland. She never forgot him. He was so young.
Jack Burda remembers the B-25 bomber that was hit by enemy fire during a night mission and tried limping to a rescue at Okinawa. Before the plane got there, four American fighters mistakenly finished the job the Japanese had started. Six parachutes dropped from the stricken bomber. Only two fliers survived.
These aren't the stories usually found in popular books or movies about the war. But they're the memories that have stayed with the Burdas, of Fairview Park, for 60-plus years.
Both went from high school straight into a world of uncertainty.
Mildred Burda, now 84, attended Garfield High School and business school, then worked in the office of a local clothing manufacturer.
Jack Burda, 84, a 1942 Holy Name High School grad whose father was a World War I Army veteran, enlisted in the Marines. He became an electrician with the VMB-612 Squadron that flew PBJ-1 Mitchell B-25 bombers stripped of most of their guns and fitted with radar, rockets and an extra-large fuel tank for long patrols to attack Japanese shipping.
Before he left Cleveland, they met each other through a mutual friend, corresponded throughout the war and can still chuckle about the Christmas cookies she once sent him that got so stale in transit that even the strongest GI coffee couldn't soften them enough to eat.
His squadron followed the Allied advance across the Pacific, from Saipan to Iwo Jima and Okinawa. Life became a daily routine of keeping the planes flying, watching nightly movies and laughing at the Japanese propaganda radio broadcasts of Tokyo Rose.
Bombers came back from missions shot full of holes or running on fumes, engines chugging in what Burda described as their distinctive "Maytag washing machine" sound.
He had his own close call on Saipan when Japanese snipers who had escaped the invasion forces stitched the bomber squadron's tents with machine-gun fire, sending one bullet about a foot over Burda's bunk.
But he recalled an even tenser moment when the same fighter squadron that had mistakenly shot down the VMB-612 plane was billeted right next to the bomber unit on Okinawa.
"Word spreads fast. I never saw so many officers carrying guns, rifles . . . they were going to shoot the hell out of that other squadron for killing their buddies," Burda said. "They moved them [the fighter squadron] out of there about two hours later."
Back in Cleveland, Mildred adjusted to life on the homefront, including rationing and air-raid drills. She volunteered to help at a USO canteen at St. John Cathedral, sometimes dancing with visiting servicemen and the wounded from Crile Hospital.
But she said war's impact didn't hit her hard until she danced with the man with no face.
"Until then, you really only saw men in training or home on leave, and they were all right, and it was nice to see them all in uniform," she said. she said that after that "Sentimental Journey" dance, she realized "the uniform means something more than looking nice."
Her future husband finished the war among the first occupation forces in Japan, where he saw their former enemies eating from GI garbage cans but determined to recover. That spirit was evidenced by women's transition from the shapeless black dresses of war -- that, as Burda quipped, "came in two sizes, big and too big" -- to bright, stylish clothing that reminded him of home.
Jack and Mildred married in 1947, sweated out his reactivation for the Korean War and raised two sons and two daughters while he worked for Cleveland Electric Illuminating Co. for 40 years. Aviation continued to play a role in his life as he learned how to fly and got a private pilot's license.
Today, the couple look back on the war years as a not-so-sentimental journey but one that they and millions of other Americans had to take.
And they never doubted how that journey would end.
"I just never thought we would lose the war," Mildred said.
Her husband nodded, recalling the common confidence that things would work out for Americans in the end.
"We were going to make sure they worked out," he said. "We may not see the end of it, but we'll do our best to get us there."
Suggested subjects for "A World at War" can be made by contacting reporter Brian Albrecht at The Plain Dealer, 1801 Superior Ave., Cleveland, OH 44114; balbrecht@plaind.com or 216-999-4853
Ellie
Posted by dsims November 23, 2008 01:00AM
"There are no ordinary lives," Ken Burns said of those who served in a global cataclysm so momentous that the filmmaker titled his 2007 documentary simply "The War."
Many who served in so many different ways during World War II are gone now.
Some took their stories with them.
But not this one.
Mildred Burda remembers the wounded GI who had lost most of his face whenever she hears "Sentimental Journey." That was his favorite song. They danced to it at a USO canteen in Cleveland. She never forgot him. He was so young.
Jack Burda remembers the B-25 bomber that was hit by enemy fire during a night mission and tried limping to a rescue at Okinawa. Before the plane got there, four American fighters mistakenly finished the job the Japanese had started. Six parachutes dropped from the stricken bomber. Only two fliers survived.
These aren't the stories usually found in popular books or movies about the war. But they're the memories that have stayed with the Burdas, of Fairview Park, for 60-plus years.
Both went from high school straight into a world of uncertainty.
Mildred Burda, now 84, attended Garfield High School and business school, then worked in the office of a local clothing manufacturer.
Jack Burda, 84, a 1942 Holy Name High School grad whose father was a World War I Army veteran, enlisted in the Marines. He became an electrician with the VMB-612 Squadron that flew PBJ-1 Mitchell B-25 bombers stripped of most of their guns and fitted with radar, rockets and an extra-large fuel tank for long patrols to attack Japanese shipping.
Before he left Cleveland, they met each other through a mutual friend, corresponded throughout the war and can still chuckle about the Christmas cookies she once sent him that got so stale in transit that even the strongest GI coffee couldn't soften them enough to eat.
His squadron followed the Allied advance across the Pacific, from Saipan to Iwo Jima and Okinawa. Life became a daily routine of keeping the planes flying, watching nightly movies and laughing at the Japanese propaganda radio broadcasts of Tokyo Rose.
Bombers came back from missions shot full of holes or running on fumes, engines chugging in what Burda described as their distinctive "Maytag washing machine" sound.
He had his own close call on Saipan when Japanese snipers who had escaped the invasion forces stitched the bomber squadron's tents with machine-gun fire, sending one bullet about a foot over Burda's bunk.
But he recalled an even tenser moment when the same fighter squadron that had mistakenly shot down the VMB-612 plane was billeted right next to the bomber unit on Okinawa.
"Word spreads fast. I never saw so many officers carrying guns, rifles . . . they were going to shoot the hell out of that other squadron for killing their buddies," Burda said. "They moved them [the fighter squadron] out of there about two hours later."
Back in Cleveland, Mildred adjusted to life on the homefront, including rationing and air-raid drills. She volunteered to help at a USO canteen at St. John Cathedral, sometimes dancing with visiting servicemen and the wounded from Crile Hospital.
But she said war's impact didn't hit her hard until she danced with the man with no face.
"Until then, you really only saw men in training or home on leave, and they were all right, and it was nice to see them all in uniform," she said. she said that after that "Sentimental Journey" dance, she realized "the uniform means something more than looking nice."
Her future husband finished the war among the first occupation forces in Japan, where he saw their former enemies eating from GI garbage cans but determined to recover. That spirit was evidenced by women's transition from the shapeless black dresses of war -- that, as Burda quipped, "came in two sizes, big and too big" -- to bright, stylish clothing that reminded him of home.
Jack and Mildred married in 1947, sweated out his reactivation for the Korean War and raised two sons and two daughters while he worked for Cleveland Electric Illuminating Co. for 40 years. Aviation continued to play a role in his life as he learned how to fly and got a private pilot's license.
Today, the couple look back on the war years as a not-so-sentimental journey but one that they and millions of other Americans had to take.
And they never doubted how that journey would end.
"I just never thought we would lose the war," Mildred said.
Her husband nodded, recalling the common confidence that things would work out for Americans in the end.
"We were going to make sure they worked out," he said. "We may not see the end of it, but we'll do our best to get us there."
Suggested subjects for "A World at War" can be made by contacting reporter Brian Albrecht at The Plain Dealer, 1801 Superior Ave., Cleveland, OH 44114; balbrecht@plaind.com or 216-999-4853
Ellie