American Patriot: The Life and Wars of Colonel Bud Day

In 1957 USAF Captain George "Bud" Day came TDY from Flying F-84s at Weathersfield, UK to Etain AB, France to check out in the F-100. He was assigned to the 562nd FBS where I was a first lieutenant also upgrading in the bird from F-86s. Bud was an affable guy and we casually started a friendly rivalry as to whom was amassing the most time in the Super Sabre. I, a bachelor, would see Bud from time to time in our scruffy green-painted cinder block Officer's Club. Though we almost always wore flight suits in the Club, one night I was there in khakis and quite solemnly getting hammered all by myself while seated at the bar. For what reason, I don't recall but probably had to do with a Dear John letter I had received. I was doing a good job since I had started at the top of the bar's drink list and was working my way down ordering each one in turn. Though not noisy or rambunctious, I was pretty wobbly, bleary-eyed, and becoming rather disheveled. Several of my friends had approached and tried to draw me into a conversation, concerned over my apparent withdrawal. I would not respond and grew progressively more morosely smashed. Then Bud Day came over, stood next to me and put his arm around my shoulder. Looking back, I recall he seemed rather large. In a friendly, confidential voice he began to speak some pretty serious words about what I was doing. Now we all know that TDY pukes have no business stepping out of line with we permanent party luminaries, rank not withstanding.. What nerve. But I began to listen. "I'm not here to start a beef," he said in a kindly voice, "but I must tell you what I am thinking. First off, you are getting quite drunk. I really don't care about that. But," and he emphasized the `but,' "you are wearing the uniform of the service I love and not wearing it well. That I will not tolerate. Why don't you just go back to the Q, change into civvies then you can come back and pass out on the floor for all I care." My first reaction was one of anger. Where did this guy, this TDY puke, get off telling me what I can or cannot do in my own Officer's Club. That thought died aborning. He had said exactly the right thing in exactly the right way. I straightened up, looked him in the eye, and said, "You are right," and left the Club immediately and never returned. Perhaps in some people's eyes this was a trivial event that didn't necessarily reflect either heroism or conviction on his part. To me it was monumental. Obviously, since I remember it so well after 48 years, it had a profound effect on me. You know, we are all influenced in one way or another, small or large, positive or negative, by practically everyone we meet and everything we witness. Sometimes in a tiny way it changes our life in some obscure aspect we aren't even aware of. We may even, unknowingly, become a better person. So what effect did Bud Day's action have on me? Two things; have firm convictions and have the courage to stand up for them at all times. I doubt if Bud

As a former Misty FAC I thought I knew Bud Day, but after reading American Patriot I realized I was dead wrong. Robert Coram's book profiles a man with a seemingly inexhaustible reservoir of courage and an unimpeachable sense of honor---all of which he gladly placed at the disposal of his country throughout his life. The book is carefully detailed and written in a manner that even the "great unwashed" who were not fighter pilots can understand. The descriptive scenes involving his torture as a POW are painful to read at times, yet I know that they were not exaggerated---and that's what makes them all the more disturbing. The words "honor", "integrity" and "heroes" have been trivialized in our society to the extent that few people know or care what they mean any more. In an ideal world these subjects would be addressed in school, or at least discussed at home. But we do not live in a perfect world, therefore, I suggest that American Hero be required reading in every high school and college in America. A profound and moving book.

I won't repeat the synopses you can read from other reviewers. I only comment on one thing. I understand Mr. Coram could be criticized for a "too-favorable" or even idolized view of Col Day. Apparently, Mr. Coram didn't expose enough dirt or a long enough list of Col Day's human failings or, just maybe, he exposed them all. Frankly, I don't care that Mr. Coram didn't find womanizing or other misconduct in Col Day's history; I am satisfied to read about this true, by definition, American Hero. There certainly wasn't the "source material" for such negative things as there was in "Boyd," but these are obviously two different men. In the end, I thank Mr. Coram for bringing Col Day to me in such a way. And Col Boyd before that. Don't stop, Mr. Coram.

SUGGESTION -- Be sure to set aside a block of time to devote to AMERICAN PATRIOT: THE LIFE AND WARS OF COLONEL BUD DAY. The force of Bud Day's character and the flowing clarity of Robert Coram's writing will rivet you. In the process, America's moral strength sharpened by the Great Depression and by WWII set the stage for Bud's moral triumph over his vicious North Vietnamese communist torturers for over five and a half years. Each fierce lash of the "fan belt" on Bud's bloodied backside and legs strengthened his will to defeat the murderous goons. Each minute of the rope torture and each re-breaking of his bones reinforced his understanding and practice of the military Code of Conduct for POWs. It is difficult for those not connected with the military, especially with the patriotism of WWII warriors, to understand not only how but why Bud suffered and persevered as he did for his fellow POWs and to preserve the secrets of his former "Misty" F-100 fighter unit. The sense of the matter presents itself through the clearly packaged facts and pace of the biography and Coram's craft in bringing alive each element of Bud's development as an individual and as a military "community" leader whose service spanned three major wars: World War II, Korea and Vietnam as an enlisted Marine, Army reservist, Iowa National Guard Officer and Air Force Officer. Our Founding Fathers knew the exceptional nature of that community and enshrined that understanding in Article I, Section 8 of the Constitution by declaring Congress prescribes the rules governing that society of warriors. As a rare fighter pilot lawyer, Bud knew and practiced the legal and social bonds of the warrior brotherhood. Fortunately, his primary torturer, the "Bug" -- so named because one of his eyes aped Marty Feldman's -- did not know the object of his animal fury was a lawyer whose master's thesis defined the evils of communism which laid the groundwork defending the U2 spy plane overflights as a logical extension of America's real war with the USSR. Sustaining Bud through the hideous "quiz" sessions were the memories of his childhood sweetheart and wife, Doris, and his four adopted, or in President Reagan's words of Michael, "chosen" children. In happier times, Doris and Bud constantly talked with each other about these four important decisions as well as the common daily events. They continue these close talks 60 plus years later and at various functions today can be seen holding hands under the dinner table. During Bud's imprisonment, Doris helped form a POW wives group educating the country on their plight and even went to the N. Vietnamese delegation in Paris seeking freedom or humane treatment for Bud and his fellow POWs. She and her fellow POW wives were so effective that they got President Nixon's attention and emphasis. He acted on that knowledge with Linebacker II heavy bombing raids from 18-29 December 1972 where the safest place in Hanoi was the POW prison where t

"Where do we get such men?" RAdm George Tarrant, "The Bridges of Toko-ri", James Michener "When the shooting starts, they call for the sons of bitches." Fleet Admiral Ernest J. King USN "He is one of those people for whom everything is either black or white. It is wonderful to go through life like that." Senator John S. McCain III This is a story of where we get such men, what happens when the shooting starts and of a life lived in black & white - pure and simple. This is an odyssey of a Sioux City "River Rat" who became a Red River Valley "River Rat". This is a saga of a man who could have been, and might even now be, your neighbor - a fellow American. There are some folks who are natural aviators, natural fighter pilots and natural warriors. Those of us who have been in recruiting know how difficult it is to identify such "naturals". Our psychologists, our educators, our training "experts" and our consultants all claim to have the answer and they repeatedly come up empty. The ones who come closest are the experienced Marine Drill Instructors, they know a warrior when they see one but even they find it difficult to codify it. George "Bud" Day is a natural - aviator and warrior. The Marine Corps missed it, only because Bud spend so much time in sick bays that he never had a chance to bloom. The Army National Guard never had a chance. The Air Force never seemed to get the word despite repeated superb performance in a myriad of flying and non flying tasks from the beginning to the end of his Air Force career. Using dedication to duty and perseverance he survived an endless progression of dead end assignments turning career ending bovine residue into promotion enhancing events. Surviving all sorts of narrow escapes in aviation related incidents he culminated his survival performance by initiating (and obviously surviving) a low level, high speed ejection sans open parachute. In Vietnam, Bud's service as Misty One resulted from the Air Force having a brain fart and deciding to put airborne FAC's in surplus supersonic jet aircraft with no doctrine or concept of operations. They were not able to find a light colonel with the cajones to undertake the task and dumped it onto the most junior of field grade officers - a major, with direct orders to "just do it". To the surprise of all he did it. Upon his shoot down, the Vietnamese communists thought they had captured a wimp, and a severely injured one at that, because they had just captured one prior to Bud. But Bud dug into his mid-western stubbornness and USMC field training and escaped captivity in North Vietnam only to be recaptured within sight of his beloved Marines in South Vietnam. In prison Bud led when his seniors were too beaten up to continue or too faint of heart even to try. Bud had the instinct and brains to recognize that to "return with honor" meant an endless progression of days, one day at a time, in resisting the mind numbing, stultifying, endless efforts of his capto