http://web.archive.org/web/19990504202023/http://www.msnbc.com/news/165386.asp

POWs saved by pilot's heroics

Captured by N. Koreans, prisoners faced almost certain death

By Bob Dotson
NBC NEWS CORRESPONDENT

REDDING, Calif. — Sgt. Paul Miller and Capt. Bill Shadish, an Army surgeon, were captured by North Korean soldiers, taken to a clearing, bound and forced to squat. They faced almost certain death. But a determined fighter pilot kept the executioners from carrying out their task.

MILLER brought home only one thing from the Korean War: a photograph of his daughter, Becky, whom he almost never met. In the fall of 1950, the North Koreans were on the run. Miller, an Army staff sergeant, and his U.S. Second Division, had chased them to the Chinese border. He figured he would be home to see his new baby by Christmas. But, as is often the case in war, things suddenly changed.

“She was born on the day I was captured,” says Miller, fingering a yellowing snapshot of his daughter.

On Dec. 1, Miller awoke to a nightmare of death and blood. The Communist Chinese had entered the war and, with 100,000 troops, hit the Americans like a tidal wave. “It was unbelievable, screaming hordes of them,” Miller recalls, looking up from the photograph.

Miller worked with a front-line medical team. He and Shadish were cut off from the other troops and captured.

“The North Korean soldiers took us out in the middle of the clearing,” recalls Shadish. “And our hands were tied,” said Miller. “The soldiers forced us to squat on the ground.” A rifle barrel brushed past his neck. A North Korean voice said in English, “We cannot take prisoners.”

“I remember saying to myself, ‘Well, it’s just going to be like somebody hit you with a hammer in the back of the head.’” says Shadish. “I had pretty much accepted the fact that I was going to die.”

But, Capt. Chuck Burgans, a Marine fighter pilot flying overhead, saw what was about to happen. “I knew these guys were in trouble,” said Burgans. His Corsair roared low, 50 feet off the ground. “I think they were afraid we were going to lop their heads off with our propeller,” Burgans chuckles now. “We’d come in that low.”

The North Koreans scattered, then scrambled back and — again — pointed their rifles at Shadish and Miller. Burgans’ Corsair circled around. “See the numbers on that plane’s wing?” shouted Shadish at his captors. “That pilot’s my best friend and if you kill us, he’ll drop napalm and burn this hill and all your men!”

Burgans roared over again and again.

“It will be dark soon,” the North Korean officer told Shadish. “The plane will go and we will kill you then.”

Shadish whispered to Miller. “I don’t know about you, but if we’re going to die, I’m going to die running.”

The sun dropped below the ridge. Shadish looked down the hillside, plotting what would be, no doubt, his last run.

“There — climbing up — were hundreds of Chinese troops. They had orders to take as many American prisoners as possible and would not let the North Koreans kill us. That pilot had saved our lives.”

Shadish did not know the man who saved them, but like the plane, their history circled back around. The two met — by chance — 30 years later and started sharing an old war story. The same war story.

“Chills went up my back,” says Shadish.

Burgans was stunned, too. “‘Were you there?’”

“‘I was in Koonari,’” says Shadish, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I was dumbfounded” recalls Burgans. “What is the chance of two people meeting? Two million to one?”

More amazing than that, the two had lived for 20 years in Redding, Calif., and never met. “The good Lord put Chuck Burgans over our heads to save our lives,” Shadish said. “Then put him at my door to let me know about it.”

Burgans was awarded the Distinguished Flying cross for what he did. He had given Becky Miller back a father, a town its doctor and made three men best friends before they ever met.