FRANCIS H. (FRANK) WALLS Major, USAF (Retired)

USAF OCS Class 57C, OC TSGT, 2nd Squadron

In seventy years, no one has come up with a better childhood than I had. I was born and raised on Vashon Island in Puget Sound, amongst a bunch of Norwegians and Japanese, who gave credence to my heritage. I had a choice of working on the ferryboats or picking berries. Neither appealed to me, so I put pressure on Bacchus Lumber Yard, and was put to work driving a lumber truck at age fifteen. Snow Falling on Cedars is very close to home!
I lost my first love at age seventeen (and the memory of her is still close to this day). She, a chicken farmer’s daughter, commented that I, a “milker of cows,” always smelled like cows. I blew it when I responded, “I didn’t think you’d ever notice, since chicken shit is a lot more potent than cow shit!” However, digging a bucket of clams, for steamed clams, and coordinating it with a garden salad and homemade bread, put my childhood into perspective. Also, I had a very supportive family. As co-master of ceremonies of my fiftieth high school reunion, I was pleased that fifty percent of my first grade was there – all four of us!
My military career started with an obligation to serve, since my three brothers had served in “The War.” I enlisted five days after graduating from high school, on June 2, 1948. I had never intended to stay in, and got trapped by Truman’s edict. So, I outsmarted (whom) by taking a short, and re-enlisting for six years. A civil service foreman set the stage with, “Boy, sit back and relax. You’re not going to get promoted ahead of anyone else!”
Upon being commissioned from OCS, I wanted no part of aircraft maintenance, since I’d been there and did that for almost ten years. “The Air Force needs maintenance officers. Your previous experience is in aircraft maintenance. Therefore, your personal desire is to be an Aircraft Maintenance Officer.” My first officer assignment was Flight Line Maintenance Officer, with eleven additional duties. Nothing ever changed from that point on, throughout my Air Force commitment.
I mediated the clashing of a “Modern Day Jew” and an “Orthodox Jew” who, as Chief of Maintenance and Base Supply Officer, respectively, were compromising the mission.
An old colonel told me that my days were over, when I got him bumped from a flight for a two-striper of mine, departing on emergency leave. I did that by calling a major general.
I turned down a position as aide to a major general, by telling him, “That just isn’t my thing.”
I served on nineteen aircraft accident boards as “the outspoken one.” I decided to hang it up if I got screwed royally three more times. I was destined to become the Wing Maintenance Control Officer at Travis AFB, and was diverted to Chief of Maintenance, 60th Fighter Interceptor Squadron at Otis AFB, Massachusetts, a decidedly sick outfit. I was then the 20th SOW Maintenance Control Officer at Phan Rang Air Base, Vietnam, when I was told to move on as Chief of Maintenance of the 20th SOS, which was in a mutiny situation down country. I came to George AFB, California as the FMS commanding officer, and was “honored” by being chosen as the wing Maintenance Control Officer. The prior incumbent was incompetent. I quit, even with the assurances of Major General Archer, TAC Personnel Officer, that I would be promoted next year, on schedule, with only one more Southeast Asia tour facing me.
A highlight of my Air Force career: I landed at Osan in the heat of the day and was met by a young maintenance officer, who asked if I would look at an F-100 which had been flown through a low-level one-inch mountain-to-mountain cable, left over from the Korean war, and had sustained extensive damage. I knew no one at the run-up pad, and picked up on the scenario by stripping down to my shorts, crawling in the intake, and checked the impellers. I asked the ranking NCO if he had a run-up card, called out the

specialists and we inspected that F-100 right through the run-up. They cleared it and I signed the forms by writing, “Released for one-time flight, sub-sonic, to Itasuki Air Base, at low level. F. Walls, MO.” My new CO was so pleased, that he didn’t even return my salute, but he hugged me and thanked Allah and a few others—that he finally had an F-100-qualified maintenance officer. The aircraft landed at Itasuki. After a few, and then a few more, I said, “Colonel, I’ve got to tell you something. That was the first F-100 I’ve ever been around!” Stunned, his response was, “My God, Man! Why did you do it?” I replied, “Colonel, I’ve been around many, many fighters. If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. I would have fully released that aircraft for combat in a minute. That’s my criteria.”
Leaving Vietnam after the most harrowing time of my life, cleaning up this mess, and leaving behind a first class fighting outfit, I was presented with the most fabulous tribute any Air Force officer will ever receive in his career, sans the Medal of Honor. I was flown to the port in one of our UHIP’s, my commanding officer having picked me up at the BOQ and drove me out to the helicopter. All the squadron officers were standing at attention with their .38’s held overhead. All the squadron NCO’s were at attention with wrenches held in the same fashion. I was overwhelmed when I passed through that corridor. I’m overwhelmed at this moment, just remembering it. Please forgive me.
I bought into a defunct hardware store on November 1, 1972, when the doors were going to be locked on December 31. My partner and I grossed $28,000 the next year. I bought him out and changed the name from Victorville Hardware to Western Outdoor Power Equipment Company, Inc., hired a bunch of military retirees, and we grossed over $750,000 in 1988. I sold out to them in 1995.
My civic activities were far more enjoyable than my military ones, as the accolades were far more frequent and glowing. For example, I served as president of the Downtown Victorville Businessmen’s Association, chairman of the Street Lighting Board, and vice president of the Chamber of Commerce. I was elected to the county Republican Central Committee, founder of the Victor Valley Republican Men’s Club, vice president of the Apple Valley General Plan, and deputy of the Special Services Bureau of the San Bernardino County Sheriff’s department. Also, I was president of the 28th DAA California State Fairgrounds, and was awarded a lifetime director’s membership. I served as a member of the Apple Valley School Board, the Mojave Air Quality Management District, and the Blue Ribbon Committee for Downtown Revitalization. I was founder of the Old Town Property Owners’ Association, and was awarded the Victor Valley College Foundation Distinguished Service Award.
In the meantime, Janet, who was an Alpha Chi Omega sorority member at the University of Arizona when I was a three-striper at Davis-Monthan AFB, and I were married on June 9, 1951. We produced three beautiful and capable daughters. They, in turn, have seeked out and married three almost (but not quite) ideal husbands, years ago. They listened and adhered to my thinking: “You will become educated and gainfully employed, so you don’t have to get married to eat!” We are very close to them, their husbands, and our beloved five grandchildren. We are “into” Sun City, MacDonald Ranch in Henderson. It’s a completely different world than what we had become accustomed to over the past thirty years in Apple Valley, California. However, I wish to strike out and become a manager of a semi-remote resort for the summer months, not too far away from Janet.
I could have (and nearly did) write an autobiography which would have put my military career in perspective. But, as I was not impressed with how I was commissioned, nor with my subsequent “regular” commission, I felt that I was put upon all through my enlisted days, and then they were compounded as an officer, because of my “previous service.” Therefore, you get to read it in