In Memoriam

Airman 1st Class Thomas Richard Annis

The following story details the death of Thomas Annis and his crew mates aboard their ill-fated KC-135 on May 19, 1966 at Kadena Air Base, Okinawa during the Viet Nam War. Most of the story and details were contributed by eye-witness Rodney Luna of California, who was an Air Force Fireman who answered the accident call and was first on the scene of the crash site. The story is written by Mr. Luna and very little editing was done from the copy that he sent to me. Warning - This story is graphic in nature. It is a story of a crash and rescue attempt of a downed Air Force jet and may contain images and language that may offend. Please do not continue if this type of story upsets you. Mr. Luna has been very sensitive in his approach to the tragedy of the events of May 19, 1966, but it is an unsettling story and one that is being told with the deepest respect and admiration for the crew of the KC-135 and the heroism of the crash/rescue crews that attempted to save the airmen aboard the doomed aircraft.

Note: The photographs of the crash site are from the Memorial page made by the children of SSgt Glen Wallace

Updated September 30, 2009

Thomas Richard Annis was born June 2, 1942 at Hesperia, MI, the son of Phillip Ezra and Illa May (Handy) Annis. He was the 5th of eight children. He attended public schools in Michigan, graduated, and joined the US Air Force (date unknown).

Tom was sent overseas during the early years of the Viet Nam War and was stationed at Kadena AFB on Okinowa. As the story below relates, the tragic events leading to the destruction of the plane and the death of it's heroic crew members reads like a bad dream. But it is just one more story concerning the sacrifice, the brotherhood, and the unforgettable horror of war.

Many thanks to Rodney Luna, The Virtual Wall, The Wall, family members of the crew and all the people who will not forget the courage of those who who perished.

"On that day, I understood the measure of a man. It wasn't how far you would go for yourself… It was how far you would go for another."

Hard Rain

The monsoons had been hitting the island for over a month. It was hot and damp everywhere you went. There was no escaping the sticky weather no matter what you did. We had suspended bombing support missions and regular flights. Aircraft were still trying to take off between heavy rain squalls. Everything was pretty much in stand-down mode until the rains passed and we knew that wouldn't be for several more weeks. We had just completed several months of missions and fortunately had only lost a few aircraft. The bombers (B-52's) were coming out of the Philippines and we were supplying support aircraft, fighters and in-flight-refuelers (KC-135, flying gas-tanks).

The fighters escorted the tankers out over the East China Sea and waited for the B-52's to hit their targets. Afterwards, the KC-135's would meet the bombers on their return home and refuel them so they could make the run back to the Philippines.

I was assigned to Crash-3 (a huge fire rig that weighed over 33 tons and looked like a rolling block house) as the foam turret operator. I sat next to the crew-chief / driver (Sgt. Preston) and operated the overhead foam gun. We had 2 civilian firemen, Okinawans, from the local village, Kinjo and Tara. The 4 of us made up the total crew. There was only one other P2 in the station and all the other rigs were much smaller and older fire trucks.

The alarm started screaming and shattered the calm of the station. Doors flew open and men were running for their rigs. We were rolling out of the stall even before we were fully suited. Within seconds the radio keyed in and the dispatcher (located on top of the station house) was directing us to the East End of the field. He didn't have to tell us where the crash was; we could see the smoke starting to rise through the rain. Sgt. Preston said, "Shit, it's the ammo dump." One of the Okinawans in the back started to chant in fear, "NO CAN DO, NO CAN DO." I looked at the crew chief and asked what he was saying. He answered, "He knows there are nuclear warheads in the dump and he doesn't want to go in there." At that point I realized I was riding into hell with lights and sirens.

I could see the smoke just off the left end of the runway, so, I grabbed the radio and called the tower for clearance onto the runway. We had a good 1½ miles of runway to cover to reach the ammo dump. It was just beyond the perimeter fence. I could tell by the smoke that whatever it was, it was big! Before the tower could answer, Preston was on the runway and I could feel the big twin 360 hp engines kick in and we shot forward down the runway, leading the other trucks.

The ammo dump was in the center of a small ring of dirt hills, all the way around (just in case this ever happened). There were only two ways in. One way was through a small opening in the hills, over a small bridge that traversed a normally small creek, that was now a raging river 30 feet across, and then past the guard station. The only other way in was around back, but that was a trip of over 5 miles through the jungle and hills.

As we approached the perimeter gate, at the end of the runway, I could see that it had a chain and lock on the gate. I looked at Preston! All he said was, "F--- THE LOCK." We hit the gate with the full 33 tons and it exploded open. Preston slid the rig up onto the perimeter highway. He never slowed down.

The tower radio keyed in and told us that it was one of our KC-135's that had crashed on take-off into the ammo dump and she was fully loaded with fuel and a crew of 10 on board. As we rounded the bend and came to the bridge we came face to face with my worst imagination of hell. The flames from the fuel were so intense they covered everything. EVERYTHING!! I couldn't even see the bridge. A literal wall of thundering bright red fire. The heat penetrated the windshield and it was pouring rain at the same time. All of my fire schooling had not prepared me for this, and I had already seen several fires. Immediately, I discharged the 1000-gallon foam roof turret onto the road in front of us. I didn't know what the hell to aim at but I knew the bridge was somewhere in front of us and I had to clear the bridge to get us across into the ammo dump! The road was narrow and we were large and very wide. With mud on both sides of the road I was aware that no other trucks could get around us. It was up to us to put down a foam pattern on the bridge just to get across. Over the radio I heard another truck say that he was going to go around the back way and try to come through the back gate. I knew that would take too long and in these conditions I recognized the burning bridge was our only chance. Little by little I could see the bridge appear from under a blanket of foam that I was spraying.

"Crash 2," the other P-2, had worked her way up behind us and started to fire a foam stream over our heads with her roof turret. But she was blinded by the fire and was just trying to get more foam down. Finally, I could see the outline of the bridge in the middle of the two walls of raging flames. It was enough for us to cross! Oddly, several clumps of debris, covered in foam, lay on the bridge and had to be shoved off just to get across. I told Preston that I would go out and shove the debris off the bridge so he could take the truck across. He took over the turret and kept the flames off my back while I went out onto the bridge by myself. The first two mangled pieces of metal I came to were not easy to push off, but I managed. I reached down and grabbed what looked like a good handle on the third clump of foam and tugged…… An arm slid out from under the foam!

I realized it was a crew member, still strapped in his seat. His name tag said "Waters." The seat had sheared off at the base, with him still strapped in, during the crash. I knew he was too broken up to release him from the seat without help. So, I rolled him back and put his head, as best I could, in my arm. I opened his mouth to clear his breathing passage and when I did the crimson blood rolled from his mouth, across his cheek, and down my silver sleeve. He was dying. He was in his last moments of life and I couldn't do anything. I started to holler for a medic, but they were afraid to approach the bridge and the fire. Another fireman, "Minks," came running past me with a foam hose. Several cars, which were parked outside the gate on the other side of the bridge, were on fire and their gas tanks were covered in flames. As two medics started to approach, Minks screamed, "GET THE HELL OFF THE BRIDGE! THESE THINGS ARE GONNA BLOW!." The medics turned and ran! I was still in the middle of the bridge with Waters! "I CAN'T," I SCREAMED! "I'VE GOT INJURED! I NEED HELP!" Minks was already running back across when he realized what I was doing. Without hesitation, he turned around and ran back towards the cars and did everything he could to knock the fire down and keep the cars from exploding.

Finally, two corpsmen came up and we released the webbing from the seat. Carefully, we raised him onto a stretcher. He was broken, he was gone and I was sick. I had never had anyone die while I held them. I wasn't even 21 years old yet.

Minks had knocked down the fire! Firemen started to cross the bridge on foot dragging fire hoses. As they carried him away I saw a wallet lying on the bridge. At first I thought a corpsman had dropped it. When I opened it, I saw a photo of Waters and his family. I put it in my fire-coat to turn in later.

As I looked up, I realized that most of the fire was now under control. Other firemen had drug hoses off their trucks and were struggling with them. They crossed the bridge and fought the fire without the trucks. I also realized that I had been looking for an airplane or something that resembled a plane. It was then that I realized that there was none! No fuselage, no wings, only four burnt out engines, two main gears, a half mile of destruction and the tail-boom. It looked like someone had taken it and twisted it between two large hands. I was looking for a plane and there was none to see, just devastation and bodies. I looked down at my arm and the rain was washing away Waters life from my sleeve. Only at the seam, where the cotton undercoat poked through the silver covering, could I still see the deep red stain. It would stay with me for a long time.

As we began to recover bodies, word came to us of the caused of the accident. Headquarters had decided to surprise the North Vietnamese with a bombing raid during the monsoon season. That was normally not done at that time of year because of bad weather. The Cong knew that, and would move supplies down from the north. We had an open weather window. The B-52 would fly out of the Philippines and a flight of KC-135 refuelers would fly down from Yakoda Air Base, Japan, and refuel them over the East China Sea after they came off the targets. We were out of the picture because of bad weather. The rain would just not let up. But Yakoda had a problem. Three of their KC-135's had generator problems and were down. So, they sent us a message asking for generator parts and 6 aircraft mechanics to install them. Taking off was the pilot's decision. Three aircraft ahead of him aborted because of the murderous rain. He knew the parts were needed so he made the fatal decision to lift off. Halfway down the runway the word hit the tower, from Yakoda, "Cancel the flight." They had cannibalized one of their own KC-135's and got the other three up and flying. But it was too late for the pilot to abort. He had passed the halfway point and had no choice but to force full-throttle and pull back on the stick. Unfortunately, he was unaware that he was hydroplaning on the water on top of the runway and actually losing control and power. The engines must have been screaming, trying to lift-off and overcome the heavy volume of water that was being sucked in through the intakes. Lift-off was at the very end of the runway. But just as he got off, 3 of the 4 engines flamed out. Only his #4 extreme starboard engine was trying to pull him up, causing him to veer left, right toward the ammo dump.

The KC was only airborne long enough to jump the perimeter fence. She came down on top of a Volkswagen, driven by a mechanic on the perimeter road. The right main gear crushed the car instantly. She was headed nose-up, belly first, for the small dirt hills that surrounded the ammo dump. She slammed in and tore in half, causing her nose to pitch nose-down and straight down the gully, into the concrete bridge. All of her fuel cargo and crew were coming apart. The pilot must have seen the bridge coming. We found his body packed tight up under the bridge. When the aircraft hit the bridge, she peeled open and disintegrated. We never found the cockpit, only instruments and burnt wiring.

I remember standing next to the bridge, looking into the water. I saw a main gear burning 5 feet under water. (Magnesium generates its own oxygen when it burns and can burn under water.) And there I stood, with a fire hose in my arms, feeling foolish. "Just let it burn," I thought. Minks started to call for help. He spotted a body in the water, on the other side of the bridge, under a piece of sheet metal. Fisher, another fireman, and I tied a hand-line to Minks and he went in to recover the body. The airman's body was shirtless and a large piece of sheet metal lay across his right side, under his arm. His head and torso were visible under the metal. Minks made his way out through the debris and tried to pull the metal off the body. It just wouldn't come off him. Finally, out of frustration, Minks put his knee on the airman, and while holding him down, pulled up on the metal with both hands. The body tore in half and intestines came floating out. The sheet metal was hot when it landed on the body and the water had cooled it and sealed it into the wound. Minks looked down; he was waist deep in body parts. He started screaming - "LOOK WHAT I DID!!!… LOOK WHAT I DID!!!" Fisher and I were screaming back, "IT"S OK! IT"S OK!!" Fisher went in, and together we pulled Minks out of the hell he was in. Later we went back and retrieved the body in two parts. Minks was delirious and had to be taken away. We didn't see him again for two months. We thought they sent him home, but no, he was sent back to active duty. He was never the same, and at night, in the station bunkhouse, you could hear him talking and crying in his sleep.
We found the guard who had been guarding the ammo dump, four hours later, in the one-man guard shack. He had been standing guard at the main gate when the KC hit, and pitched nose down. One of the engines tore off and hit the fence parallel, so it was sliding right at him, tearing out the chain link fence as it slid towards him. His only way out was to exit towards the oncoming engine. It must have looked like a flaming freight train coming right at him. He fainted from fright, slid down and fell forward, under the counter. The engine came to rest only a few feet in front of the guard shack. Only when we opened the door did we see him under the counter. He never returned to active duty. Fear and terror broke his mind.

Hours passed and we kept finding twisted mangled bodies Most had their clothing torn off or burnt off in the crash. I remember stopping and looking around, the ground was black from the charring fire. Oddly the white foam looked like soft snow on a charred earth, it was surreal. It was a killing field. Finally, relief came. The off shift was called back on duty to relieve us. Someone said, "Go home fireman." I guess the look on my face said it all. I had been there all day from the beginning and there was no need to ask me what shift I was on, my adrenaline was long gone and I was working on sheer exhaustion. A fireman would yell for help and I would go to help him. I made my way back across the bridge towards my truck. Preston had moved our crash truck back to let smaller rescue and ambulances get in closer. I started to walk past a military ambulance. Unlike civilian ambulances military ambulances are just a big box, no windows, and two big doors in the back. As I started past, I could see feet sticking out of the six racks in the back. I stopped… I knew then if I walked past, I would look in, and remember. I didn't want to remember. I turned and walked around another truck so I couldn't see in.

I reached into my pocket and there I found the wallet. I went to the chief and handed him the wallet and said, "The guy on the bridge." He looked at me and he understood.

For days afterwards it was quiet in the station. A few days later several of us who were firemen were in the Airmen's club. Someone came up and asked if we were involved in "that accident?" I said, "Yea!" They had overheard us talking amongst ourselves. I had mentioned the wallet to the others. This asshole wanted to know if I kept the money. It was all I could do to keep from slugging him. The others guys told him to get the hell out!
Most people never have the opportunity to find their breaking point. They do it by playing "Survivor," or having someone take them into the desert or jungle to see if they can survive, and they revel in the fact that they made it out

On that day, I understood the measure of a man. It wasn't how far you would go for yourself…

It was how far you would go for another.

I didn't break and run, and Minks sacrificed himself to protect Waters and me on the bridge. We did it because it was the right thing to do! Damn the outcome!


Epilog I: 1997

Several years later, I visited the Vietnam Memorial in DC and it saddened me to see all the names. I cried, I often wonder how their family found out. Were they ever given the circumstances? Should I try to find them?
Later Robert McNamara would write a book, which he states that maybe he was wrong in telling Kennedy that if we sent in enough troops we could win the war. Robert, your mistake killed a lot of us.

Epilog II: Aug 2002

I would take another 4 years after I visited the wall to finally get some answers. I had been searching the web (and found) The Virtual Wall I knew that only men killed in Vietnam were listed on the wall, but I still looked as I had done so many times before. This time I only entered the date May 19, 1966, and to my surprise 11 names all came back. It said that they were all killed in South Vietnam but I knew it was Okinawa. All were airmen killed in a plane crash. I was dumfounded, I had found the entire crew of the ill fated KC-135. Feverishly I read all the posted messages and tried to send e-mails to locate and next of kin. Some families may want to bring some closure to this tragic accident, some may not want to know.

I'm still searching………………………

I'd do it all again.
Sgt. Rodney Luna
AF19857749
USAF 1965-1969

The Crew

The Readers Write

Dated 5/22/2004

Benny was my great uncle. Unfortunately, I did not have the opportunity to get to know Benny, but I have grown up hearing about what a wonderful person he was. My mother loved him very much. I know his wife Hazel finally found some sense of ease when his name was finally added to the wall. His kids Reggie and Pamela are also wonderful people who would do anything for anybody. I can remember going to Hazel's house when I was a child and seeing Benny's picture and the flag she was given at his funeral along with all of his medals and I did not fully understand what he and all the other men and women had sacrificed until I got older. I am very thankful to all of you and I am so deeply sorry for what you went through. I'm sure that Hazel and her kids would be glad to know that there was such a caring person trying to help Benny. When I see her I will be sure to let her know.

May God Bless You,
Cris Nabors

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Dated 12/9/2004

Dear Annis Family,
I am overwhelmed with gratitude. I cannot thank you enough for sharing Thomas R. Annis' story.

By putting together your website, particularly by including Rodney Luna's story, you have enabled me to help a very special veteran. He was a military policeman who helped with the crash site clean up. He told me the story of the crash because he still struggles with memories of that terrible crash. He asked for help from VA, but he had no idea how to connect this event which so shaped his life to any names or faces, dates or times that could be verified as required by VA. He was lost and alone. You have provided a very important, life saving service to this veteran.

Thank you again and again.

Tracy Davis, D.S.O.
The American Legion

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Dated 4/18/2008

I was stationed at Kadena, Okinawa and was on the flight line when KC-135 57-1444 crashed during take off. I have been trying to locate a tribute made to Thomas Richard Annis, but can not locate anything on it. I was told that on google there was a story about the crash but come up empty on that also. I knew Tom ( that's what we called him ) and talked with him several times on the flight line and also at the barracks. He was a nice guy and I thought a lot of him. I knew about half of the guys on 444 that day and have had a difficult time after all these years of trying to look up information or even try to contact anyone concerning the crash. I'm a Vietnam Vet and 100% disabled.
I hope that this does not upset anyone of the family by my inquiring about the tribute that I was told about. I am so sorry for your loss.

Sincerely, Jan Wilfong

Dated 2/17/2009

It's been many years since that fatal accident and believe it or not this is the first time I saw your site. A wonderful tribute.
I was stationed at Kadena in 1965 thru 1966 and knew Thomas personally. I was also a member of the search party.
Thank you for putting up such a wonderful site and please accept my condolences for the family's loss. Thomas was a good man who loved his family dearly. And I know that to be true, first hand.

God bless you all.

Sincerely,
A1C Rich DeCruz
KAFB 4252 FMS (SAC) Pneudralics Shop 1965-1967
(Young Tigers)

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Dated 9/30/2009

Today, I was looking for something on the internet and saw information about your site. I was shocked! I have been searching for an article on this for years. You see, I was there with other airmen in the launch truck at the end of the runway where the KC-135 took off. We did not get to the crash first after the crash. The fire-truck got there first. However, we did see the crash first. We saw the aircraft when it initially revved up its engines, start down the runway, and disappear for a second as it went over the hump in the runway. At this point, everything was normal. All the aircraft taking off disappear for a second or so from our vantage point because of the hump. All of us on the launch crew always held our breaths waiting for the aircraft to reappear. When an aircraft reappeared, we always had a sigh of relief. However, this time when the aircraft reappeared, the wings were not level and it had started its decent. We did not see the aircraft hit the ground, but we saw and heard the explosion. We were in shock.
I have had nightmares for years since then. I could not come to grips with the fact that I could do nothing but stand there and watch.
Until I came upon your site, I had always felt shame. I felt that the aircraft crash had been "swept under the rug" and that no-one would ever know about this tragedy. Reading your site, I began reliving the event. The memories are just as vivid now as they were then.
I am so very glad that I found this site. It is a healing for me as well as for you. I am so happy that they are on the Wall even if there location of death is wrong.

Sincerely,
Ellie R. Cagle, Jr.
4252 A & E Maintenance Squadron

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Annis Family Association

annisfamily@hotmail.com

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Other Tributes to the Crew of KC-134 #444

SSgt Glen Everett Wallace - By the children of Glen

Links

Annis Family in the US and Canada Directory

Annis Family Honor Roll - 1946-2009

American Battle Monument Home Page