No civilized person would happily embrace the choices imposed by war.
No person of conscience would call war’s pain a thing of glory.
Yet there grows in such darkness a great bond among those who stand ready to make every sacrifice to a just cause.
I am pleased to have served our grand cause of liberty for my country and for the people of France and Clinchamps-sur-Orne, who long and bravely bore their heavy burden, and who welcome me so warmly today.
Our bond endures.
William E. Bullard, Jr.
Lieutenant Colonel, United State Air Force, Ret. and former member of the 382nd Fighter Squadron, 363rd Fighter Group
18 juillet 1994
by DAVID WHITE
On Saturday, April 28, 2012, the San Marcos sky was abuzz with the sound of biplane engines destined for the San Marcos Airport. The event was the Commemorative Air Force Centex Wing Biplane Fly-in, which featured a collection of Stearman planes and other military aircraft for public viewing. Fourteen World War II pilots were the guests of honor at the event and the veteran aviators flew in one by one in the Stearmans; 12 of the 14 at the stick of their respective planes.
One of the 14 veterans honored that day was Lt. Col. Bill Bullard, a former commander over the flight training units at Gary Air Force Base where he taught fighting tactics to young pilots in the 50s after WWII until he retired in 1969.
When first asked to comment on the highlights of his flying career, Bullard responded humbly, “there wasn’t anything spectacular about my career.” But the history books say otherwise. “Aces Against Germany: The American Aces Speak” by Eric Hammel gives an account of an aerial dogfight, as told by Air Force pilot Dick Asbury, with German pilots over Falaise France on July 18, 1944:
“I broke to the left with my wingman, Carleton Palmer. At the same moment, Bill Bullard broke to the right with Ed Pawlak. Instantly, the battle became a melee; every friend and foe had enemy fighters on its tail. I started a tight circle to the left that soon went from level to half vertical. The 109 pilot on my tail was very good; he stayed with me through several circles, perhaps as many as four. As I went around, every time I crossed another 109 in range in front of me, I fired. I saw definite strikes on two of them, but I was unable to see the results because I had to keep circling. The guy on my tail was still there, trying to get into position to fire at me. I had to shake him. Finally, I decided to pull the circle as tight as I could; I was willing to spin out if I had to....
“More 109s had joined the fight by then. We later ascertained that we were engaged with fighters from Jagd-geschweder 3 and Jagdgeschweder 52. On the way back up, I encountered several more Me-109s. When I saw that a P-51 was mixing it up with them, I began chasing two of them, but I was unable to score again. The other P-51 pilot, Bob McGee, shot two of them down. One crashed and the pilot of the other bailed out at low altitude...
“When Bob and I reported to the group intelligence officer for our debriefing, I was relieved to see that all our pilots were back on the ground except Bill Bullard, who we later learned had crash landed and been taken prisoner.”
Bullard’s daughter Linda says, “My dad would not admit to being shot down. He would say that he was shot UP and managed to bring his Mustang down in a crash landing.”
Bullard recounts the events of that day, now 68 years later, “I completed my 50 missions and I was headed home.” But he didn’t get to leave before he responded to one last call.
A British offensive called Operation Goodwood was in progress and the Germans were retaliating with “a large flight of 109s (fighter planes),” Bullard says in his memoirs. Bullard – in full dress uniform, instead of his pilot suit – and seven other pilots launched into action, not knowing how many fighters they were going to encounter. “We were to get into the air as soon as possible and attack the 109s on the ground... The way I remember the fight was that we were still climbing at 7,000 feet when McGee said ‘109s.’ At almost that instant, a 109 passed by me in a left bank.”
“It was a brisk fight,” said Bullard. He motioned with his hands the logistics of the dogfight that ended with a German fighter on his tail. He maneuvered, blind to the exact location of the Me-109 behind him. “There’s no rearview mirror in those things. You just do everything but fly level.”
Bullard was hit and he was coming down fast. “I was seconds away from landing in Allied territory, where I knew I would be picked up safely,” but he instead made a crash landing in Clinchamps-sur-Orne and was seized by the Germans.
“Most of the fighter pilots ended up in prison camps,” said Bullard. When he got to Stalagluft 1 in Barth on the northern edge of Germany, he remembers hearing shouts from the prison yard, “Hey Bill, we knew you were coming!”
“They really didn’t treat us bad,” he says. Bullard said the POW pilots were treated much better than other prisoners of war and credited that to Luftwaffe Commander-in-Chief Hermann Göring, a flying ace that had greater esteem for pilots than others.
Bullard’s daughter Linda noted how emaciated he became in the prison camp because they hardly fed him, but Bullard replied, “They (his captors) didn’t have much either.”
Bullard was in the camp for nine months. There was word that the war would be ending soon, and there was also word that if Hitler had his druthers he’d execute all the POWs rather than setting them free. His German captors were uneasy about the news as well. They might be stuck between obeying Hitler’s orders or being persecuted for war crimes if and when they lost the war. So Bullard made the long and well-planned escape that he documents in his memoirs, and continued on his long journey home.
Bullard’s wife Birdie added that while he was off fighting and taking chances, she, like many other military wives and girlfriends, were at home doing the hard part. “Waiting!”
Bill and Birdie married soon after his return.
A pair of Aces
July 18 is a holiday celebrated every year in the city of Clinchamps-sur-Orne, and 50 years after Bullard’s crash landing, the townspeople invited Bullard and his family back as their guests of honor and received a certificate of appreciation for Bullard’s heroic efforts – “Their own personal liberator,” said daughter Linda.
The Bullard family – Bill, his wife Birdie, daughter Linda and son Gene were given the royal treatment and Bill was made an honorary French citizen.
On that same trip, Linda – who has spent many years abroad in Europe, inspired by her father’s travels – set up a special reunion. After doing some research, she was able to find the German fighter pilot that shot her father down.
Hans Rüffler was a German fighting ace, five times seriously injured in air battles, but “put back together” to continue fighting, according to Linda. He remembered the dogfight with her father and the shrapnel that blew through his cockpit and took a piece of his jaw with it. He was hesitant to meet but later said he wanted to.
Linda scheduled the meeting in Rüffler’s hometown of Bonn, Germany at the train station. When Rüffler asked how he would recognize them, she said, “My father will be the only one wearing a cowboy hat with a P-51 on it.”
The Bullards were worried that it would be an awkward moment when they met, but Linda, who interpreted in German, said when the two former nemeses met, “It was a golden moment. Their stories they’ve been telling all these years were being verified by the only other person that was there.” And she explained how, “They do that thing pilots do. The way they talk with their hands” (to illustrate the movement of the plane). The Bullards visited the Rüfflers in their home and corresponded a few times before Hans’ death several years ago.
And now
After retiring from the Air Force, Bullard moved to Kerrville in 1970 where he and his wife built a home for them and their two children. He enjoys gardening and grafting pecan trees – a method he’s willing to teach and share with anyone who wants to learn.
