REMEMBERING BUD

 Frequently when someone enters our lives we do not realize what it means until later.

Bud Anderson entered my life in 1967, and now 57 years later he just exited.

Clarence Emil Anderson was one of the last ten U.S. aces remaining from World War II.  Born in Oakland, California, in 1922, he was enamored of aviation from childhood and knew he wanted to fly.  He became a civilian aircraft mechanic and entered the Army Air Forces the month after Pearl Harbor.

From there he never looked back.
Known as “Andy” or “Bud,” he earned an enviable reputation as a stick and rudder man.  The 357th Fighter Group formed with P-39 Airacobras, but when the group deployed to Britain in late 1943, it was only the second Merlin-powered P-51 squadron in Europe.  By then he was a captain commanding a four-plane flight.  All his fighters were named Old Crow, which he explained with a twinkle in his eyes, “I told my Baptist friends it was named for the smartest bird in the sky.”

Old Crow, of course, was a popular bourbon.  Still is.
    
In two combat tours, Bud shot down 16 German aircraft and shared another with his flight.  At war’s end he was a 23 year-old major, ranked third among the 357th’s near-record 41 aces.  

Upon return from combat, Bud married his childhood friend Eleanor Crosby whose first husband had been killed in Europe.  Bud and Eleanor had a son, Jim, and daughter, Kitty; Ellie died in 2015.

Subsequently Bud entered test flying, gaining an international reputation, mainly at Edwards Air Force Base, California.  His wartime squadron mate and fellow test pilot Chuck Yeager got most of the attention, but Bud had his own credentials.

Bud was involved in flight test from 1948 to 1962, rolling in and out of war college and squadron command.  Most notably, he flew the innovative “FICON” project, with escort fighters linked by wingtips to long-range bombers, and a reconnaissance jet carried in the belly of a B-36.

Bud’s second war was in Southeast Asia, flying a very different aircraft than the Mustang.  He flew two tours in Republic’s big, powerful F-105 Thunderchief, commanding a wing on Okinawa from 1965 to 1967, and another in Thailand in 1969-1970.

Upon retiring as a colonel in 1972, Bud returned to Edwards Air Force Base to manage McDonnell Douglas’ test facility, particularly evaluating the new F-15 Eagle.

Chuck Yeager’s 1986 best selling memoir led to Bud’s own book.  To Fly and Fight was published in 1990 via Bantam Books’ Ian Ballantine who produced Yeager’s volume.  To Fly and Fight remains in print today.

In civilian life Bud remained in aviation as a flight instructor and especially as a warbird pilot.  He flew restored Mustangs authentically painted as “Old Crow,” and was gratified with a rare P-39 Airacobra in his original colors.

Bud’s honors accumulated.  He was inducted into the National Aviation Hall of Fame and the International Air and Space Hall of Fame.

He was enormously popular in the U.S. and Europe, appearing at airshows and history events, signing thousands of books, photos and lithographs.  Such was the demand that event sponsors arranged for periodic dialysis treatments.

In 2022 Bud received an honorary promotion to brigadier general at age 100.  

Bud was the last living American triple ace.  

Bud’s son James Edward (named for two 357th pilots killed in actions) became a second-generation fighter pilot.  After graduating from the Air Force Academy he flew O-2 observation planes in South Vietnam, even logging a sortie with Dad alongside.  Subsequently Jim transitioned to F-4 Phantoms and commanded an F-5 Tiger II squadron before retiring as a lieutenant colonel.     

Jim had two more aviation careers.  He flew for Southwest Airlines until mandatory retirement, then managed Arizona State University’s aviation department.  Meanwhile, he maintains https://toflyandfight.com, one of the finest aviation websites extant, including tributes to the 357th Fighter Group.

Jim also is my webmaster at btillman.com, with generous assistance from Josh Kettinger.

So how did I know Bud Anderson?
    
In 1966 I began writing fighter aces, seeking signatures.  The response was not only gratifying but led to some cherished friendships.  Colonel C.E. Anderson replied to my initial letter by sending a couple of signed photos—which I’d not requested—and I was pleasantly surprised that a correspondence developed.

Think about that: Bud took time to write to a 40-hour teenage pilot though he commanded a wing in combat.

That’s all anyone needs to know about Bud Anderson.