Rex Burten was born on March 15, 1921 in central Kansas on a farm. Where he grew up they had no electricity or running water and he attended a one room school house until high school. While in college at the state university, Pearl Harbor was attacked by the Japanese. Rex immediately enlisted in the Army Air Corp. and at the end of that term he found himself in OTS then on to flight training.
Lt. Rex Burten, 23, was attached to the 8th Air Force, 356th fighter group, 361st squadron stationed at Martlesham Heath, an old RAF airstrip. He was assigned a new P51 Mustang to fly on bomber escort missions which was the primary duty of his squadron. Rex’s first mission had been on Thanksgiving day, 1944. On his first mission their squadron had gotten into a fierce dogfight with a large number of German fighters. Rex was credited with shooting down one German fighter. Now a couple of weeks later he found himself on another mission escorting the bombers over the Ruer Valley a strong industrialized area of Germany.
During another dogfight Rex’s squadron leader radioed him that Coop, another pilot in their squadron had been hit and was breaking off and heading for home and that he was to fly cover for him making sure that he got back to the base safely. Or in the event that Coop’s plane couldn’t make it back to the base, Rex would be able to see where his buddy landed and could provide support if required. The two fighters broke North heading home dropping to 10,000 feet in the event that they had to ditch the damaged plane.
Shortly Rex caught sight of a lone Messerschmitt coming out of the clouds and diving on their position. Rex radioed his buddy Coop to hit the deck, which meant flying at tree top level, while he climbed to engage the enemy fighter. In the first pass the German fighter fired his guns and riddled the P51’s fuselage. One round struck Rex in the left thigh. The American pilot felt excruciating pain and blood running down the inside of his flight suit. He was just able to pull a split S maneuver ending up on the German’s tail. Rex knew that he was only going to have one chance at getting this German so he laid on his 50 cal. machine guns. The German fighter plane started to smoke, caught fire and then exploded in midair.
Rex pulled up to avoid the ball of flame in front of him and found himself flying into what appeared to be a very dark storm cloud. Inside the cloud there was lightning flashing all around him as if encircling his plane. One by one his gauges went dead. He tried the radio to send out a mayday but it too was inoperable. Rex was truly flying blind. He remembered that he had been at 15,000 ft when his altimeter went dead. All he could do was dive out of this storm cloud hoping that he would clear the cloud cover before crashing.
Breaking through the clouds Rex was able to spot what appeared to be a very large airfield. Lowering his landing gear he was able to land safely. He taxied up to some very large buildings the likes of which he had never seen before. They were all covered with what appeared to be mirrors. There were no other planes around and the place appeared deserted. Rex couldn’t remember ever seeing a large airfield on any of his maps of the area, but then he wasn’t exactly sure where he was.
When he came to a stop he slid the canopy back feeling the cold December air in his face. He tossed his knapsack onto the wind and finally got himself extricated from the cockpit. Rex sat on the wing leaning against the fuselage quickly finding a pressure bandage to hopefully stop the bleeding from his leg wound. With the bandage in place and the tourniquet pulled tight he sat back to take stock of his situation. His winter flight suit and leather flight jacket would keep him warm for a while but not for long if the temperature were to start falling. He had his 45 cal. revolver still strapped to his side. In the knapsack were a couple days or rations, a first aid kit with one syringe of morphine which he would save as a last resort, extra rounds of ammunition, a compass and lastly a German/English translator.
Not sure whether from the blood loss or from shock and the excruciating pain, Rex sat there on the wing starting to feel faint. He knew that he had to stay alert because the enemy surely would have seen his plane go down but by now he couldn’t even move. Slowly he slumped over into unconsciousness.
Lt. Rex Burten, 23, was attached to the 8th Air Force, 356th fighter group, 361st squadron stationed at Martlesham Heath, an old RAF airstrip. He was assigned a new P51 Mustang to fly on bomber escort missions which was the primary duty of his squadron. Rex’s first mission had been on Thanksgiving day, 1944. On his first mission their squadron had gotten into a fierce dogfight with a large number of German fighters. Rex was credited with shooting down one German fighter. Now a couple of weeks later he found himself on another mission escorting the bombers over the Ruer Valley a strong industrialized area of Germany.
During another dogfight Rex’s squadron leader radioed him that Coop, another pilot in their squadron had been hit and was breaking off and heading for home and that he was to fly cover for him making sure that he got back to the base safely. Or in the event that Coop’s plane couldn’t make it back to the base, Rex would be able to see where his buddy landed and could provide support if required. The two fighters broke North heading home dropping to 10,000 feet in the event that they had to ditch the damaged plane.
Shortly Rex caught sight of a lone Messerschmitt coming out of the clouds and diving on their position. Rex radioed his buddy Coop to hit the deck, which meant flying at tree top level, while he climbed to engage the enemy fighter. In the first pass the German fighter fired his guns and riddled the P51’s fuselage. One round struck Rex in the left thigh. The American pilot felt excruciating pain and blood running down the inside of his flight suit. He was just able to pull a split S maneuver ending up on the German’s tail. Rex knew that he was only going to have one chance at getting this German so he laid on his 50 cal. machine guns. The German fighter plane started to smoke, caught fire and then exploded in midair.
Rex pulled up to avoid the ball of flame in front of him and found himself flying into what appeared to be a very dark storm cloud. Inside the cloud there was lightning flashing all around him as if encircling his plane. One by one his gauges went dead. He tried the radio to send out a mayday but it too was inoperable. Rex was truly flying blind. He remembered that he had been at 15,000 ft when his altimeter went dead. All he could do was dive out of this storm cloud hoping that he would clear the cloud cover before crashing.
Breaking through the clouds Rex was able to spot what appeared to be a very large airfield. Lowering his landing gear he was able to land safely. He taxied up to some very large buildings the likes of which he had never seen before. They were all covered with what appeared to be mirrors. There were no other planes around and the place appeared deserted. Rex couldn’t remember ever seeing a large airfield on any of his maps of the area, but then he wasn’t exactly sure where he was.
When he came to a stop he slid the canopy back feeling the cold December air in his face. He tossed his knapsack onto the wind and finally got himself extricated from the cockpit. Rex sat on the wing leaning against the fuselage quickly finding a pressure bandage to hopefully stop the bleeding from his leg wound. With the bandage in place and the tourniquet pulled tight he sat back to take stock of his situation. His winter flight suit and leather flight jacket would keep him warm for a while but not for long if the temperature were to start falling. He had his 45 cal. revolver still strapped to his side. In the knapsack were a couple days or rations, a first aid kit with one syringe of morphine which he would save as a last resort, extra rounds of ammunition, a compass and lastly a German/English translator.
Not sure whether from the blood loss or from shock and the excruciating pain, Rex sat there on the wing starting to feel faint. He knew that he had to stay alert because the enemy surely would have seen his plane go down but by now he couldn’t even move. Slowly he slumped over into unconsciousness.
