June 22, 2009
COL. KENNETH L. REUSSER USMC (Ret.)
A MARINE’S EXPERIENCE
At the age of 89 Colonel Kenneth L. Reusser, USMC (Ret) died Saturday, June 20, 2009.
A native from the Oregon coastal farming community of Cloverdale, Ken Reusser learned tofly in Uncle Sam’s Civilian Pilot Training program (CPT). Because the governmentrecognized pilots would most likely soon be needed, in August, 1941 the USNavy accepted him at Naval Air Station (NAS) Sand Point, Seattle, Washington, as aSeaman Recruit, flight student.
Navy training was arduous, but having both private and commercial pilot’s licenses easedsome of the load and placed him, with others, in an accelerated class. In April of 1942he graduated from Navy flight school at NAS Opelaka, Florida as a Naval Aviator,and because graduates were allowed a choice, Ken elected to enter the US Marine Corps as aPilot, Second Lieutenant.
Transferred to VMF 122 shortly before deploying to Guadalcanal, along with his squadronmates he worked hard to perfect the varied skills it takes to be a successful fighterpilot.
After the debacle of Pearl Harbor and our failed defense of the Philippines, Guadalcanal waswhere the United States launched its first offensive response in the Pacific during WWII, and VMF 122 was about to be thrown into the middle of it.
On 2nd Lieutenant Reusser’s first flight into enemy infested skies he downed a JapaneseMitsubishi Betty bomber, but his Grumman F-4-F Wildcat was damaged by thebomber’s gunner. Ditching at sea, the bird sank immediately with Ken still inside, dazedand bleeding. At thirty or forty feet down he finally worked himself free from what hadbeen holding him fast in the cockpit, then struggled valiantly toward the brighter lightabove.
At long last, coughing and sputtering, he reached the surface and some very refreshing air.After a few deep breaths Ken surveyed his situation and realized the rubber dinghy, as apart of his parachute pack, had gone down with the plane. This meant a leaky Mae Westhad become his only means of staying afloat.
After several hours in shark-filled waters he was rescued by island natives and taken ashore.Since that day Reusser claimed other than being the wrong blood type the sharksdesired, his Christian beliefs taught from the pulpit of the Baptist Church where hisfather preached had to be the only reason circling sharks failed to strike.
There the village women bandaged a facial injury caused when he struck the gun-sight as hisWildcat hit the water. They kept the gauze bandage moist with warm sea-water for thenext fourteen days, and the entire village of islanders cared for Ken very well. Hiding himwell every time Japanese troops were patrolling the island, none of the natives informedthe enemy a rescued American flier was concealed in their community.
Reported as MIA (missing in action) and presumed dead, the natives were finally able tocontact one of the famed Australian Coast Watchers who advised our Navy whereReusser was awaiting rescue.
Aboard the Consolidated PBY-5-A Catalina sent to bring him back, his two-weeks-oldbandage was cut free by a corpsman who was totally shocked to find an eyeball restingon the rescued pilot’s cheek, staring back at him from this rather unorthodox location.Returned to its socket in the sick bay of the seaplane tender USS Kittyhawk. Everafter Reusser claimed this to be his best eye.
Within a few short weeks 2nd Lieutenant Reusser returned to the air and continued flyingaround and over Guadalcanal for nearly two more months. As soon as the tide of battlechanged in favor of US forces, Reusser was ordered back to the States for furthercorrective surgery.
Captain Reusser’s next combat tour was over Okinawa in an F4U-1D Corsair with VMF312. They provided close-air support for our troops and flew interception missionsagainst Kamikazes sent from Japan to the hit island facilities and ships of the USfleet.
It was here he earned his first Navy Cross by sharing in the destruction of a Kawasaki KI-45 “Nick” spy plane the hard way. Climbing far above a Corsair’s normal operating limits,Reusser got off a very few “Hail Mary” shots before his guns froze from the highaltitude temperatures. Yet a few of Reusser’s .50cal rounds hit the Nick, and it begantrailing a wisp of white smoke. Turning and dropping his nose, the Kawasaki startedfor his base in Japan, and this gave Reusser an opportunity to overtake him.
With now useless guns, the only weapon left to Reusser was the Corsair itself, so he beganchewing on the Nick’s tail with his propeller. Seemingly out of control, the Nickdropped his nose, and began heading down. But then, surprisingly the pilot regainedcontrol and leveled off.
Meanwhile Reusser’s wingman, Lieutenant Robert Klingman, had caught up with this closeformation. He tried to fire, but his guns were also frozen. Ken then placed his wingtipnext to the Nick’s canopy to prevent more maneuvering and suggested Klingmanmight take a turn at the unorthodox method of downing a foe, however his firstattempt only slightly increased the damage Reusser had already caused.
During the time both Reusser and Klingman were flying next to the Nick, its gunner in therear of the greenhouse canopy was swinging his gun at first one and then the otherCorsair while pounding on the breech and pulling on the charging handle. At the close range just oneround from his weapon might even the odds, but it was not to be as his gun was frozenand inoperative as well.
Reusser now kept his wing over the Nick’s, nearly putting the tip into the enemy cockpit.This way any move by the Nick pilot was guaranteed to fail, even if Reusser wentdown with him. The Japanese pilot just stared at Ken’s wingtip as Klingman lined up totry once more.
The Nick pilot suddenly snapped to attention and slowed down to make the Corsairovershoot, but this only caused Klingman’s prop to climb up the fuselage into thegunner’s station, ripping the gun from the plane and killing the gunner. Finally, with controlcables severed the Nick fell off into a graveyard spiral, breaking up in mid-air.
Both beat-up Corsairs made it back to Okinawa and landed straight in “on the fumes,”totally out of fuel. “Not enough gas left to fill a Zippo lighter” was a comment made by someone asthey pulled the planes from the runway with a tractor.
For actions and valor “above and beyond” both Reusser and Klingman were awarded theNavy Cross.
Between wars came various assignments which helped the now “Major” Reusser improve asa pilot, officer, and gentleman. He could not know it at the time, but this schooling wasalso preparing him for the next fracas, a clash-of-arms President Truman declared was nothingmore than a “Police Action.” Strangely, in the so-called “Land of The MorningCalm,” in Korea our troops being shot at always seemed to think of it as a full-fledged WAR, withno “morning calm” about it.
Major Reusser arrived with Marine aviation’s first response team, again flying F4U-4-BCorsairs, only this time as operations officer of VMF 214, the “Black Sheep” of WW IIMajor Greg Boyington fame. They were aboard the first “JEEP” aircraft carrier to arrive inKorean waters, CVE-118, the USS Sicily. The ship was skippered by another WW II”go-get-‘em” type hero; Medal of Honor recipient, Captain Jimmy Thach.
Marine Corsairs from the Sicily began launching against this new foe, and this was the startof what would become a very productive combat tour with Reusser logging 113 combatmissions before being relieved.
Three days later, Aug 5, 1950, about a month before the Inchon landing, for a busymorning’s work Major Reusser earned a medal for valor, the first Marine aviator to beso honored in the Korean War.
The event began when Reusser was flying down a street at zero altitude and below powerlines, being shot at with everything the enemy could fire. He looked through thewindows of a large building. Aided by the light from arc-welding flashes, on his secondpass to confirm his first impression he identified this as one very valuable target, atank assembly and repair facility.
Returning to the ship Reusser discussed what he had seen with Captain Thach and whilebusy discussing what should be done a different Corsair was fueled and armed.
He then led his flight back to the tank depot where the VMF-214 pilots completelydestroyed the large complex, many tanks, “soft” vehicles, artillery pieces, andnumerous anti-aircraft batteries.
On their way back to the Sicily the flight also destroyed a Standard Oil tank farm after whichone pilot reported, over the radio Reusser jokingly seemed very concerned aboutwhat this might do to the Standard Oil stock in his portfolio.
From the corner of his eye Reusser noticed something not quite right in the port of Inchon.Leaving his flight beyond effective anti-aircraft range, he flew into very heavy flak atwater-skimming altitude. While the shells hit or whizzed on past his Corsair he realized hewas looking at a North Korean-built dock-like shelter constructed to hide fair-sized shipsfrom prying eyes.
Bombs and rockets expended, and with only 20mm light cannons available, he tore into aship tied to the pier. Unknown to Reusser it was a tanker filled with gasoline, and when thevessel violently erupted it inverted the Corsair, nearly knocking Ken out of the sky.Fighting the plane back upright, when he landed aboard the Sicily his terribly shot-upand thoroughly-bent plane was pushed over the side as “too damaged to economically repair.”
For this extreme example of dedication to the military needs of war, care of flight members,and disregard for his own safety, Navy Captain Jimmy Thach recommendedMajor Kenneth L. Reusser as a man who deserved the Nation’s highest award, The Medal ofHonor.
Once in the hands of the awards council they downgraded Thach’s recommendation, but didextend to Major Reusser the Navy Cross, the second highest award available to our sea-going military. Of course this did place Major Reusser in a very elite “two Navy Cross”brotherhood.
While flying his many missions over Korea, during seven months he acquired hundreds morecombat hours and was shot down three times; into the drink twice from enemy action,and once was forced to bail out into North Korean controlled territory.
In the latter incident, hit hard, the plane was a goner, so Reusser dove over the side, far fromany friendly forces. His parachute operated as the manufacturer promised (and the pilotand parachute rigger hoped), lowering him at a safe speed. However, he landed in a ricepaddy and completely disappeared from sight in the ooze. After getting free of hisharness and reaching the dikes, he had to race away from the bad guys who were after him, wildlyfiring rifles, Chinese Tommy-Guns, and anything else available.
A rescue helicopter had been alerted, and as his squadron mates kept North Korean headsdown with their Corsair’s 20mm guns the chopper swooped in and dropped a line.Ken was not yet truly safe though because upon reaching the cockpit the whirly-birdpilot threatened to throw him back to the NKPA because of the rice-paddy “night-soil” fertilizerstench.
Even before leaving the States, and certainly by the time it arrived on station, the Sicily hadbeen operating with what sailors call a “fouled bottom.” Barnacles galore and sea-grasses growing many feet long had robbed the ship of a fair turn of speed, so VMF 214flew off to operate from one of the hastily built airfields on Korean soil and the Sicilyturned east towards the States..
Before the ship reached its first stop in Japan, fighting around the Chosin Reservoir heatedup as the Chinese “Peoples Army” descended from the snow covered hills and hit our Marinesand soldiers hard.
The Sicily rushed back from near Japan, and once it reached Korean waters VMF 214dropped out of the clouds and landed back aboard for an intense session of take-off, flyto the reservoir, drop bombs and Napalm, fire rockets and guns, then land back aboard.
Over and over, as fast as the planes could be serviced and launched, VMF 214 gave theground-pounding Marines as much cover as possible. Even on snowy days when theweather was so bad they couldn’t see the ship’s bow from the stern, the pilots and menof VMF 214 and the Sicily did everything anyone could to help the Marines marching out tothe sea.
During this period the Navy finally acquired enough exposure suits so they could give theMarines a few. These suits allowed a man in the water enough protection so hopefully acrash survivor might last long enough to be rescued. Normally four minutes in the drink wasconsidered the longest a man could survive the intense cold of the wintry seas, but whendressed in a “Poopy-Suit” lasting for more than an hour was not unusual.
It was almost impossible to get into these custom-fit outfits, and getting out was no picniceither. One thing about wearing such gear is it keeps water from coming in,consequently not much gets out either; hence the nickname, “Poopy-Suit.” Reusser’sfitting-out one evening seemed to take forever with the cut-and-gluing, but whendone he was able get some shut-eye before the following morning’s flight.
Flying low over the Chinese front line Reusser unloaded his ordinance, and as he did theCorsair was hit by light anti-aircraft fire. His elbow stung, but more importantly smoketrailing behind indicated he was in another enemy-crippled bird.
Reusser resisted his wingman’s call to “Bail Out!” because parachuting into a group of menarmed with guns so soon after dropping Napalm in their midst might just jeopardizeone’s plans for a long life.
Skimming a mountain-top Ken turned towards the sea, trading altitude for distance.Providentially, before his engine seized, out over the slate-grey-icy waters helocated a destroyer circling the area for just such rescue needs.
The Corsair splashed and went under fast, but Reusser got out before following it down. Ittook longer than planned for the ship to pick him up, but this experience certainly made a”Poopy-Suit” believer out of him. The suit ended up with a hole in the elbow, and so didKen’s arm; however, the water’s deep icy chill stopped his bleeding.
When he returned to the States Lt. Col. Reusser was assigned to a squadron flying DouglasAD Devastators, and he commanded them on a Mediterranean tour. Soon afterreturning he was transferred to helicopters where, as with all else aeronautical, hemastered the whirlybird.
Appointed Chief of Staff of MEB-4 (Marine Expeditionary Battalion) he earned a Legion ofMerit during deployment to quell an uprising in the Dominican Republic.
Early in the Vietnam War Colonel Reusser was commander of the Marine Air Group,MAG-16. On his final combat flight, as was usual for him, he was “leading from the front” in aHUEY, overseeing another mission into harm’s way.
Flying into a “hot” zone, Reusser was acting as the coordinator of a recovery mission toretrieve a CH-46 brought down a day before. The HUEY he was aboard stumbled intoa perfectly executed ambush prepared by the North Vietnamese, one previously undiscoveredby gun-ship scouts and Marines on the ground.
Heavy fire hit them and instantly killed the ‘copter pilot. Reusser was hit in the leg with alarge caliber round, and the chopper’s controls were shattered. This meant there was but onedirection to go — down.
Slamming into a Vietnamese rice-paddy the chopper was explosively engulfed in flames. Thefuel-fed fire swirled into the cockpit from behind, but Reusser found his safety belt’squick release refused to function. Because the Huey was broken and crushed, men inthe rear compartment were also trapped and screaming. Knowing if another sunset was tobe seen he had to rescue himself, Colonel Reusser began leaning back into the fire,attempting to burn through his unyielding harness.
More and more aggressive, the fire soon caused the Styrofoam lining in his helmet to meltand ignite. This burned his scalp to the bone, burned off his left ear, and ate down hisneck and shoulder, yet he still wasn’t free. Over and over he lunged against the burningharness, until with a final heave the straps parted, allowing him to escape from thecockpit inferno and flop into cooling rice-paddy waters.
Though his flight suit was still smoldering, instead of helping himself Reusser began pullingand tugging on the men caught in back, all the time being shot at and again was hit by the NorthVietnamese from their hidden positions.
From across the paddy a Corpsman with the ground Marines saw what was happening, ranthrough the hail of gunfire, and knocked Col. Reusser down. After rolling him about in thepaddy water to extinguish the remaining fire, he picked Reusser up and carried him, whilestill under fire, to another helicopter, a CH-46, which evacuated the Colonel to thenearest medical unit.
With little scalp remaining, other very extensive burns, and bullet wounds, this man was incritical condition. Not expected to live, that night Colonel Reusser overheard someevacuation-orderlies discussing how soon “that Colonel in there” would take his lastbreath. It was then this hard-to-kill Marine decided he absolutely would not give thesemedics the satisfaction of dying on their predicted schedule.
Skin grafts over 35% of his body along with other reconstructive surgery was performed,and after more than a year of care at Bethesda Naval Hospital he was at lastreleased, ready to return to work. Because of his injuries the Marine Corps decided itwas time to turn Colonel Kenneth L. Reusser out to pasture, so after twenty-eight years inuniform he was retired with a permanent 90% disability due to combat sustained injuries.
During his service to our country this gentleman earned; two Navy Cross, four Purple Heart,two Legion of Merit with Combat “V,” and fifty-two other medals and ribbons. Also,he was shot down five times in three wars by enemy action, suffering grievous woundsin several of these gut-wrenching episodes. At eighty nine years of age, until June 20,2009, it is believed he was the most decorated three-war (WW II, Korea, & Vietnam)former Marine Corps pilot living in Oregon.
Aviation being his life, after retirement the US Marine Colonel Reusser worked for privateaviation companies.
He worked with the famed Kelley Johnson in the equally famous “Skunk Works” atLockheed Aircraft. Aspects of the U-2, SR-71, and Cheyenne Helicopter projectbenefited from Ken’s knowledge of both aircraft and people.
At Piasecki he worked on a “heavy-lift” project which mandated he become a proficientBlimp pilot. To Reusser however, even handling the big awkward gas-bag was justanother day of flying.
As Chief Pilot for this innovative experimental project Reusser was on the cutting edge of anaeronautical revolution. All flights of the unit were uneventful until the twenty-fifthascension. Due to a mechanical failure the heavy-lifter crashed, killing one person.Discouraged because of the death, Piasecki retired and cancelled the project.However, the concept is in use elsewhere in the world today.
Eventually retiring to Beaverton, Oregon, Ken and his Wife Trudy were enjoying a quietexistence until a complete change in their lives occurred. They were badly scammed byan investor, bookkeeper, a very large bank, and the Washington County court system.The latter occurred when a circuit court judge, in open session, flatly denied thisgentleman his requested constitutional right to a trial by jury when fighting this oversizedand over-zealous bank, which has now failed.
Ken and his wife continued battling for their financial lives until an even more immediateproblem dropped into their laps.
Ken suffered a severe stroke on his right side, but during recovery he was allowed todehydrate to the point of death, but fought back, once again blessing us with his presence.
After five months of hospital and care facilities he returned home to intensively pursue thejob of regaining a more normal life, whatever “normal” might happen to be in this instance.
He did extremely well with his speech, and regained rather limited use of his right arm, andbetter use of his right leg.
To this point in the story you may have wondered what more might befall this gentleman whoreally deserved better. Ken found the answer to this in February of 2007 when he wasdiagnosed and informed he had a very aggressive prostate cancer. He fought this toremission after an earlier bout of the same malady, but after about a year it returned with avengeance, causing the doctors to suggest he had only a few months to live. Still,Kenfought his cancer with all means at his disposal and it worked for quite a while.
As the material for this short biography was being collected the author was reminded byCol. Reusser to be sure to include the subject’s certainty his many brushes with death have beenwarded off by a generous God to whom all credit is due.
Unfortunately for those of us left behind, as of June 20, 2009, he has left this earth to be withthe Lord no doubt to receive his “well done, good and faithful servant” reward.
Colonel Kenneth L. Reusser
January 27, 1920
June 20, 2009
R.I.P.
