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120527 - Dauz - Urschler ... more Dauz_Burger
120520 - McRaney


Date: May 27, 2012
From: Reg Urschler
Letter I wrote several years ago to the Dauzvardis children who had asked about their father whom they had lost when they were very young. You will note it was written around the time of a previous Memorial Day.... there remain yet a few of the “old”  breed who remember “Dauz”, especially on this Memorial Day.


Heather, Jon & Chris: 
I write this knowing full well your brother no longer is with us, now residing with your Father in a better place. I write this to them as well as to you in the hopes somehow they know we are remembering them today. 
I do not remember the specific day on which I met Fabian Gitminius Dauzvadis, but the friend and comrade I knew as “Dauz” lives clearly in my memory. 
What specifically was it that  made him “memorable”? Was it his very dry sense of humor. Or his balding pate. Or the “Walrus” type mustache which resided immediately beneath his nose…. which he stroked proudly from time-to-time.  Was it the twinkle in his eye…or the quiet, disarming manner which lured the unsuspecting into his “special” world, much like a spider waiting for the prey to enter. Perhaps it was the way he held…and puffed on his Camel cigarette….or the way he held his drink…taking the occasional sip as he peered mysteriously and mischievously over the rim at the next potential “victim”. Whatever it was, he “captured” all who came within his web, becoming an unforgettable and unique… human being….and friend. 
Many stories are told about this amusing and fascinating fellow…and I believe all are true, as I spent many years in his company either being “subjected” (happily) to his antics…or playing a part in his many humorous and sometimes “unusual” activities. And I know there are those who remain with us today who have their own stories about “Dauz”…or who quickly would confirm…or add to the others…and I would invite them to share those stories with you and your bother on this Memorial Day…as Max Moore has…in ”the Fabian G. Dauzvardis phone call” story. 
There were four members of this….what I would call…”different” group of men. Fabian G. Dauzvardis, Don Mather, “Redman” Winters and the undersigned. And while we didn’t do “everything”, we did our very best in trying….with what “we” would describe as “hilarious” and most times
 unpredictable results….perhaps what some other observers might describe as “weird”(?). One underlying truth prevails….we had fun and perhaps outdid the Three Musketeers by adding a fourth to our “Band of Gypsies”.. 
During his stay in Topeka and our association there, he lived in several different places and a few stories come to mind.
The first is related to his place of abode located south of Forbes where he rented a farm and all the associated “amenities”….chicken coop, silo, barn and etc. Of course he took advantage of the “setting” and began raising chickens. During that particular period his crew was required to deploy to Turkey. On the appointed day of deployment, Fabian appeared
 at the RB-47 with his deployment bags along with a standard-sized gym bag, only this gym bag did not contain the accouterments one normally would associate with physical exercise. NO….the head of a very live chicken protruded from the only space available after having zipped up the zipper. Also included were an empty wine bottle, candle, matches and a red and white checkered napkin to cover his work table in the ECM compartment whereon… it is reported… he lit the candle inserted in the in the wine bottle which he sat upon the red and white covering on his work table and enjoyed his lunch en-route to Incirlik, Turkey….the chicken arriving alive with no existing reports available on the chicken’s final disposition. 
During his tour in Turkey our young(?) hero acquired a motor bike of some questionable performance. It appeared in need of some major maintenance as it emitted great plumes of black smoke whenever and wherever our friend drove it. Coincidentally, Dauz’s physical appearance and mannerisms…previously described….provided him with the perfect “cover” should he ever “go-down” in any foreign country save those in the Orient, as he could pass for any European country’s resident…that is until he spoke his native tongue of English….unless of course landing in his parents country of origin…Lithuania. He spoke often of his father who was the Lithuanian Counsel in exile in Chicago, Lithuania controlled “then” by the Soviet Union as one of their “satellite” countries.. Dauz also spoke of one of his jobs in civilian life prior to entering the military, that being working for a company in Chicago who prepared in-flight meals for an airline. 
But I digress. We were in Turkey when I got sidetracked…easy to do when recalling a beloved and “unpredictable” friend. 
At any rate, one evening as our group of crew members had consumed a “few” Martini’s and/or other associated beverages…he liked Scotch as I recall…”someone” suggested Fabian and his “partner-in-mischief”….ride through the Officer’s Club on his motorcycle during the evening meal. Now in 1961, “Officer’s Club” in Turkey was NOT what you might know as an “Officer’s Club”. All things being relative, it was an “Officer’s Club”,
 as only officers could attend. The food was “interesting”…the salads were “cucumbers and tomatoes”…always…as the waiters response to the diner’s question…”any lettuce today?” was…”no lettuce on airplane today”. We had a bar, the dining area and a dance floor adjacent thereto. There was a front door…under an awning….and a back door….both entry and exit consisting of “double” doors. And so the decision was made and the planning and coordination process began as we sat next to our barbecue aside our assigned quarters at Annex 4.

    If you print the "story" about Dauz, you may wish to include this very descriptive photo of Dauz, Nurse
 "Hepp" and the undersigned. Adana Air Base,
  Incirlik,Turkey, 1961. I believe it "explains" it all

 Scouts were dispatched to surveil the “Target” and to prepare for the “assault”. Four long 2x8 planks were “acquired”, two each lain side-by-side leading into the back door and out the front. Agents returned to the “strike team” reporting all was prepared in the target area with comrades prepared to fling open both sets of doors at the briefed TOT. The “ground crew” prepared the strike team with words of encouragement and agents were placed inside the target to observe and report the results of the “mission”. Your father donned his red Fez….his passenger donned a monkey mask and launched for the “O Club”. On arrival at
 the rear entrance, the pre-positioned agents flung open the doors…your father drove the motorcycle up the planks into the Club, astonishing the patrons there-in who sat having their dinner, observing what appeared to be either a mad Turk….or some Mediterranean “looking” individual wearing a red Fez, driving a very loud motorcycle belching much black smoke, with what appeared to be a gorilla sitting behind him. Before anyone could respond, the shock and surprise being so great, the mysterious motorcycle….with more mysterious occupants…wizzed through the dining room and out the front doors thrown open at the last second by more comrades monitoring and supporting the operation!
 Turk, Gorilla and vehicle all returned to the departure point at Annex 4 awaiting
 the BDA (bomb damage assessment)report, shortly provided by the agents prepositioned in the “target”. The report…”complete surprise”….an unmitigated and unparalleled success….so much so as to encourage the “attackers” to execute a second run through the target. Once again secret agents surreptitiously were dispatched to evaluate the conditions, quickly returning to advise an “abort”, as the Air Police had been called and were on scene taking a report and searching for the perpetrators/penetrators.
 The Winter of 1960 while your father lived at
 the farm proved to be bitter, with an amount of snow which denied our fine-feathered friends (birds) access to any food, noted by the local Aviary Society, who through the local Topeka media enlisted the aid of local aviators to distribute excess, old and stale bread donated by a local bakery. Said bread supplies were delivered by the baking company to the local airport serving Topeka, one Phillip Billard, where local aviators were encouraged to fly, load up what supplies they could and then distribute by air, said supplies.    
 The undersigned, a member in good standing (at the time) of the Forbes Aero Club,  proficient in a former USAF trainer assigned to the Aero Club, one each Beech T-34, contacted his “Bombardier”, the “Redman” Winters, briefed him by telephone on the “mission, rendezvoused at the Aero Club, mounted up and proceeded to the local airport, Phillip Billard.
 On arrival it was noted all sorts of “baked” materials were available for distribution to the hungry bird population….sliced bread, whole loafs and other products. The choice of products by our very kind and thoughtful aircrew was “whole loafs”, especially since they were stale and hard, making them more directionally controllable by the “bombardier” in the rear seat when over the selected “target”. The aircrew determined the maximum amount of “distributable” supplies could be loaded only “after” the bombardier mounted and strapped into his position, after which the pilot handed him the items (hard, whole loaves) selected for airlift and distribution. Needless to say, the bombardier was barely visible after the loading process.
 After takeoff and departure from the local airport, the aircraft and crew established a south-bound heading, proceeding to…and locating the target for today…. “The “Fabian Farm”! The day being extremely cold and the ground snow covered, no humans were sighted outside and around the target. Consequently several “low” passes were executed in an attempt to rouse the occupant’s level of curiosity to investigate the “disturbance”. Sure enough here came the “farmer” and after being sighted and identified by the pilot and bombardier, low level bombing runs began in an attempt to feed the six foot “bird”, now watching in awe and amazement, mouth open to receive his meal. Several “near-misses” occurred after which…on succeeding runs… the pilot and bombardier noted the
 “bird” obviously was expecting “sliced” bread, as the whole loaves began appearing from the ground in front of the propeller to be sliced! Finally, after depositing the last “load”…and on a dry run over the “bird”, he was observed to express his appreciation by shaking his fist at his “benefactors”!
 “Summer Olympics” (?) were held at the farm….along with other activities too numerous to mention. Chicken dumplings were made at the farm….and promptly disposed of out the back door. Don Mather moved into the farm house and then they subsequently moved to a farm just north of the Shawnee Lake Dam where further episodes occurred. We made lots of home-made beans there along with other “delightful” meals.
 And then there was the trip to Kansas City and dinner at Pooche’s 210 restaurant, paid for by the “Redman” when he lost his bet with us that he would quit smoking. That’s the night “Mike”, your father’s black, Hungarian, Poulie(sp) dog, unaware to us,
 somehow got out of your dad’s “Dauzmobile” (VW van with escape hatch on top) during an unplanned stop on some street corner in Kansas City
. We drove away for some distance/time to discover him missing, returning to “where we thought we had been”….and miraculously there sat Mike waiting for us. How we found him remains an alcohol-shrouded mystery,but rest assured we all were relieved to find him, he totally non-plussed by the entire incident! Mike was quite a dog. Your dad would take him in a bar and place him on a stool at the bar, Mike acting as though he belonged there same as we humans….but then in light of it all, perhaps he WAS more “human” than we were?
 As you know, your father and I were partners in what he hoped to be his post-retirement dream on his ranch north of Cheyenne, running a herd of registered Charolais  cows. He did get to enjoy some of it for which I am most grateful. And your Mom did her best to continue following his passing. I don’t know how she managed with the three of you “wild” ones and all the associated cattle responsibilities. She has my admiration and appreciation for her efforts as she had no one to help.
The last time I saw your father was on his return from completing his tour in Viet Nam in 1970,
 when his plane stopped on Okinawa en-route to the states and we had a chance to be together. You can rest assured he was an honorable, dedicated husband, father and friend who believed in God and Country and his duty to “serve”. He was loyal and faithful and possessed unquestionable integrity. I was fortunate to have had the opportunity to know him, spend time with him and call him “friend”…and I know he will have a place for all of us when we meet again.
 May God Bless you and family on this Memorial Day. 

          I know that SOB on the right, he is/was Mohamed  Abudl Fatallah who sold me a genuine Turkish carpet, with 300 knots/sq inch, made by a tribe in
          remote Turkeistsestain for $300 dollars US!!!! 
           When I got home I found it was made in Israel by Sheldon Fickleburg and he was selling them for $25 US, and the buyer was getting screwed
           even at that price. I heard M. A. Fatallah is  living in Nebraska, if I every locate him I have a slightly used carpet for him..............  Richard Lees

From: Jack -
Sent: Wed, July 25, 2012
Your recent memorial to Dauz on the 55th web site reminded me of the deployment in 1961 when some of the happy times with Dauz occurred. I was on the crew with Dauz. I thought you might like some pics taken then.

Jack Burger

From Reg Urschler

Bless you for sending these.
Your photos captured the essence of our wonderful friend and comrade better perhaps than any attempt I could with words.
......... these photos confirm my opinion that Dauz could have bailed out in any mid-eastern or European country and pass as a "native". The only thing missing in the photos is the red fez he wore when we drove through the Officer's Club on his 'smoking' motorcycle........

Warmest, best regards,


On May 20, 2012, at 18:52, Jeff McRaney <> wrote:
I am a member, or was a member, of the 55th WA by virtue of my employment with E-Systems and my close association with the development and initial deployment of the Rivet Joint aircraft.  However, prior to my employment with E-Systems I was an airborne maintenance technician with Det 1, 6988th RSM, USAFSS at Yokota AB Japan (1961-1964).  One of my contacts recently directed me to a newly declassified NSA publications article titled "Maybe You Had to Be There: The SIGINT on Thirteen Soviet Shootdowns of U.S. Reconnaissance Aircraft".  I found this article very interesting and it may have some special interest for some of the members of the 55th WA.
Jeff McRaney
From: Jim Maloney <>
To: Jeff McRaney <>
Sent: Sun, May 20, 2012 7:06 pm
Subject: Re: From 55WA web site
Thanks Jeff, I'll pass it on......JimM
From: Robb Hoover
Thanks for the info.  I have printed out a copy of that report and intend to digest it closely. Then I will be going out to talk to the current 55th Historian about declassification efforts
on other early recon documents. We are especially interested in the Apr 28, 1965 NoKor attempted shootdown of a 55th RB-47 over th Sea of Japan. The RB-47 copilot (Hank Dubuy)  returned fire and is believed to have shotdown the attacking MIG. That shot up aircraft (#290) returned to Yokota  with all hands safe but never flew again due to battle damage.  
Another incident was the 17 Nov 70 dust-up in the Pechora Sea south of Novaya Zemlya near the Barents Sea. Russian Mig-17 fired warning shots at a 55th aircraft which was surveilling a radar on Vagach Island. Our aircraft completed the mission to the dismay of the Russkis. Like to find out more about the Russian reaction on  that one too. 
Thanks again for contacting us,
Robb Hoover
RB-47/RC-135 Crow
55th Wing Association Historian