06/15/2026
Local Aviators Were Warriors — and Teachers
*22nd in a series
Former Huntington resident Toni Rae Mayo’s 2001 master’s dissertation at Ball State University, titled “Defining Flight,” contained the stories of 19 Huntington aviators. George Oden was one of those stories.
When Mayo asked him about flying, Oden replied, “It was a boy’s ambition, the thrill of a lifetime, to be able to turn an airplane upside down. My dream was realized after I became a fighter pilot in World War II.”
That “thrill of a lifetime” became the “scare of a lifetime” in 1945. First Lieutenant George Oden (1923-2015) learned that the destination for his 15th mission as a fighter pilot would be to attack a ship in the harbor of Kyushu, Japan. The briefing that morning was held in quonset hut hangar with men he had flown with for two years. George said he knew those men “better than my brother.”
Their commander provided a weather report and an alternate destination — a little island close by, in case of an emergency. They were also made aware that friendly submarines were in the area to pick up a downed pilot. Forty-eight pilots studied the maps and readied themselves for a surprise attack at daybreak. Dressed in a summer flight suit, George would fly in a formation of four, alone in his single engine P-47 fighter-bomber — named “Nikkie,” after his wife.
At the target, the first wingman in George’s formation dove toward the target, releasing his rockets and peeling off waiting, for the others. George followed, releasing his rockets. But at 2,500 feet, anti-aircraft fire hit the front bank of craft’s engine and then the back bank, leaving only one bank and half his normal power to get back to base. Dark, greasy oil immediately covered the canopy, and it became uncomfortably hot in the cockpit as he could feel the hot oil through the two pair of flight gloves he wore. He recalled how hot oil dripped over the plane’s throttle, onto the control levers, and down the doors.
Two of the fighter pilots in his group flew beside him as they made the grueling two-hour trip at 150 mph back to their base. After being assured his landing gear had deployed, George touched down on the runway. He later discovered that he only just four gallons of oil left in an engine that holds 48.
Oden recalled he was only 20 years old at the time “and knew I would be taken care of … I was never scared until I got back to the base.” He eventually logged between 300-400 hours in combat.
Our final story, about Clarence Leroy Priddy was related by his wife, Millie, in loving honor of her husband. Priddy was another World War II aviator — but with the Civilian Training Program, as a civilian flight instructor.
In the 1930s, Priddy wanted his wife, Millie, to become the first lfemale pilot in Huntington. She was taking lessons from Russ Hosler and was ready to solo when the outbreak of World War II stopped her instruction.
Clarence (1913-1994) tried to enlist in the Army Air Corps after graduating from Jefferson Township High School, but there were no openings. In 1940, he was twenty-seven years old with a wife and farm when he began taking flying lessons from Russ Hosler. He had many hours of flight time in his logbook before the war began.
With the U.S. at war, Clarence volunteered for the Civilian Training Program and quickly advanced after training at various Air Corps fields around the country. Millie was with him as he spent most of his time as a civilian flight instructor at Harrell Airfield at Camden, Ark. By 1944, he was training a different class of cadets every two months.
One of those cadets, Fred Zorn, recalled soloing in a PT-19. His landing was great but, a little disappointedly, he noticed his instructor was not looking. When the 21-year-old aspiring pilot jumped out of the cockpit and asked, “Weren’t you watching?” Clarence replied, “Hell, no. I couldn’t stand to see you kill yourself.”
Zorn would later fly C-47s and C-46 troop carriers and eventually follow in Clarence’s footsteps as a flight instructor — but of multi-engine planes. Many years after the war, Fred Zorn told Millie that Clarence “was the greatest guy I ever met.”
Millie’s recollection of her husband’s “fox hunt by air” has all the attributes of a comic-book tale. This event took place in a Piper Cub tail-dragger, where the pilots sat in tandem, one behind the other, with dual joysticks to fly the plane, positioned in front of each seat.
A fox hunt by air, she claimed, was nothing more than a lark or an absurd excuse to go flying used by two old friends, her husband and Dean Wakefield. They would usually do this together in the late 1940s on a fall morning. Once in the air, the pair scanned the woods for streaks of red running though the brush. They had shotguns by their sides, prepped for duty while skimming the treetops.
On one fateful outing, the wing of their plane caught an outstretched tree limb which pulled it to the ground. The worst injury was to their egos, but the plane required dismantling to get it out of the woods.
Dean looked at Clarence and asked, “Weren’t you flying?” Clarence, slightly bruised and irritated, asked Dean, “Weren’t you flying?" It was quickly established that both were looking for foxes and either was at the controls.
The two embarrassed pilots walked through the woods to the Priddy’s farmhouse to report that a tree limb had made the only catch of the day. Score: Foxes 2-Hunters 0!
— Researched and compiled by Dr. John Regan
Volunteers are always welcome to help us preserve the part for the present and future at the Huntington County History and Education Center, 315 Court Street, in Huntington. Visit the Center from 10-a.m.-4 p.m. Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, and Saturdays by appointment. More information on the Center’s collection, tours, room rental, and how to become a member of the Huntington County Historical Society is available from Executive Director Barbara Rupley at (260) 356-7264 or www.huntingtonhistoricalmuseum.com
