X-Virus-Scanned: clean according to Sophos on Logan.com Return-Path: Sender: To: lml@lancaironline.net Date: Wed, 14 Sep 2011 09:16:12 -0400 Message-ID: X-Original-Return-Path: Received: from mail-yw0-f52.google.com ([209.85.213.52] verified) by logan.com (CommuniGate Pro SMTP 5.4.1) with ESMTPS id 5124078 for lml@lancaironline.net; Wed, 14 Sep 2011 09:03:59 -0400 Received-SPF: pass receiver=logan.com; client-ip=209.85.213.52; envelope-from=mwsletten@gmail.com Received: by ywp31 with SMTP id 31so2337224ywp.25 for ; Wed, 14 Sep 2011 06:03:23 -0700 (PDT) Received: by 10.236.191.103 with SMTP id f67mr41018119yhn.16.1316005402851; Wed, 14 Sep 2011 06:03:22 -0700 (PDT) X-Original-Return-Path: Received: from MarkDesktop ([204.13.115.88]) by mx.google.com with ESMTPS id a12sm134670yhh.17.2011.09.14.06.03.19 (version=TLSv1/SSLv3 cipher=OTHER); Wed, 14 Sep 2011 06:03:21 -0700 (PDT) From: "Mark Sletten" X-Original-To: X-Original-Cc: "'Jeff Edwards'" References: In-Reply-To: Subject: RE: Back Seaters X-Original-Date: Wed, 14 Sep 2011 08:03:21 -0500 X-Original-Message-ID: <003e01cc72de$afd30490$0f790db0$@com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: multipart/alternative; boundary="----=_NextPart_000_003F_01CC72B4.C6FCFC90" X-Mailer: Microsoft Office Outlook 12.0 Thread-Index: AcxyXJgGEJaF5O21Q52peVwxZIX0XgAgXhJw Content-Language: en-us This is a multi-part message in MIME format. ------=_NextPart_000_003F_01CC72B4.C6FCFC90 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="utf-8" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable According to Wikipedia, the runway at Phan Rang is 04/22. Was it = different during the Viet Nam conflict? =20 -- Mark =20 From: Jeff Edwards [mailto:vtailjeff@aol.com]=20 Sent: Tuesday, September 13, 2011 4:32 PM To: lml@lancaironline.net Subject: Re: [LML] Re: Fwd: Back Seaters =20 Maybe he landed on the taxiway... AvSafe=20 Jeff Edwards 314.308.6719 mobile 636.532.5638 office Jeff.edwards@avsafe.com On Sep 13, 2011, at 5:20 AM, "William A. Hogarty" = wrote: Lynn: I thought that the amount of exaggeration in all fighter pilot stories = was in direct proportion to the number of drinks consumed by the story = teller prior to telling the story???? BTW, are you a member of the SSS ? Regards,Bill Hogarty On Mon, Sep 12, 2011 at 9:04 AM, Karen Farnsworth = wrote: Considering that the runways at Phan Rang were north/south it would have = been very difficult to =E2=80=9Cland to the east=E2=80=9D. This little = inaccuracy leads me to believe that there just may be some exaggeration = involved in the telling of this tale. =20 =20 Lynn Farnsworth F-100 Pilot at Rhan Rang =20 _____ =20 From: Lancair Mailing List [mailto:lml@lancaironline.net] On Behalf Of = vtailjeff@aol.com Sent: Monday, September 12, 2011 7:48 AM To: lml@lancaironline.net Subject: [LML] Fwd: Back Seaters =20 =20 =20 -----Original Message----- From: Rick Hadden To: Mr. Daniel R. Bott ; Jeff Edwards = ; Bill Hinson ; Russell Schulz = ; Alan Shaw ; Mr. Richard = Tems ; Mr. Warren A. Wilbur, III = ; Paul Ziemer Sent: Sun, Sep 11, 2011 12:54 pm Subject: Fwd: Back Seaters A tale worth the read! I nominate this guy to the F-8 Crusader Assn! Rick True Story! For you non-aircrew guys, just call this "Four Beers!" ~~ = (I was=20 there at the same time...Bill)~~("Aeroplane" is the correct = British/Canadian=20 word). =20 One of the best flying tales I've read in a long time. It's from the = Osprey book=20 B-57 ~ Canberra Units of the Vietnam War. The B-57 was in high demand = due to=20 its loiter time, weapons loads and usually its accuracy. It was one of = the few=20 a/c that carried the M35/M36 Funny Bomb that was a good weapon against = truck=20 targets.=20 =20 THE RELUCTANT BACK-SEATER=20 =20 Ed Rider was a Canberra pilot who had come up through the enlisted = ranks, having=20 done a stint as an Airborne Electronics Technician on the B-57 in the = late=20 1950s. Ten years later he was a captain flying the Canberra out of Phan = Rang. =20 Rider was known for his aggressive flying and his own particular tactics = that=20 were more suited to a nimble fighter-bomber than the big B-57. And by = Rider's=20 own admission, 'there were only about two navigators left who would fly = with=20 me'. Before the war was allover he had completed more than 400 combat = missions.=20 The following is Rider's account of one such mission in 1968:=20 =20 'The "Yellowbirds" were back at Phan Rang flying night interdiction = missions in=20 the southern part of North Vietnam and along the supply routes down = through=20 Laos. I had a patch on my party flight suit that said "Laotian = Highway=20 Patrol". 'Other than the two navigators in the squadron who would = willingly fly=20 with me, the others did not like my highly unorthodox tactics. I tried = to point=20 out to them that other pilots were getting shot up =E2=80=94 or shot = down =E2=80=94 while I=20 never took hits and killed more trucks than most. Those idiots were = coming back=20 with their aeroplanes full of holes and getting medals for it. Anyway, = my=20 navigator came down with a bad case of "Ho's Revenge" and the other = navigator=20 was already flying, so someone had to be volunteered. The hand of fate = laid its=20 clammy finger on Bill. After an earlier adventure that ended in a belly = landing=20 due to hydraulic failure, he had sworn never to fly with me again. We = had to=20 drag him scratching and spitting, so to speak, to the aeroplane.=20 =20 'We were taking off at midnight to hit a truck park way up in Laos. I = asked the=20 crew chief if his aeroplane was ready, and when he said yes I gave him = four=20 beers to put into the rear compartment and told him to button it up = (close all=20 inspection doors). I didn't insult him by inspecting the jet. The crew = chiefs=20 liked for me to fly their aeroplanes and I never had one let me down. I = went=20 around with the armourer and checked the fuzes on the bombs for proper = settings=20 and the arming wires for proper routing. Then I spread my maps on the = ramp and=20 showed the crew chief and armourer where we were going and what we were = supposed=20 to hit.=20 =20 'We were in the northeast monsoon season and had 40 knots of wind = blowing down=20 the runway. The standard night departure called for a right turn to the = south=20 after take-off until reaching the coast, then a turn to the east and = then follow=20 the coast to Cam Ranh Bay and turn on course. This was supposed to keep = you out=20 of the outgoing artillery, but it wasted about 3000 lbs of fuel, so = naturally=20 I didn't follow it. After I raised the gear I turned off all external = lights so=20 that the air traffic controllers in the tower could not see me. When I = was high=20 enough to drop a wing, I turned right 270 degrees so as to cross the = west end of=20 the runway headed northwest. I roared across the 101st Airborne = encampment and=20 shook all the grunts out of bed and then headed up the valley that led = to=20 Dalat in the mountains. The hills on either side were invisible as there = were no=20 lights on the ground, but if I maintained the proper heading I would not = run=20 into any rocks before I got high enough to clear them. Bill was somewhat = unhappy=20 with this exercise. In due course we climbed out of the valley and = turned north=20 to Pleiku, and points north.'=20 =20 'We checked in with "Blind Bat", our C-130 "flare ship", and from more = than 50=20 miles out we could see his flares and the anti-aircraft fire he was = attracting.=20 The gunners must have just gotten a fresh supply of ammo because they = were even=20 shooting at his flares. We let down and coordinated altitudes so that we = would=20 not run into each other. We made eight vertical dive-bomb passes = dropping our=20 "funny bombs" =E2=80=94 this was the name that FACs gave to the M35 fire = bomb.=20 =20 'This was the same bomb used to start the firestorms in Tokyo in World = War 2. =20 It was a large cluster bomb that opened up a few thousand feet above the = ground. =20 The falling bomblets made a fiery waterfall until they hit the ground. = Then=20 they spewed out burning white and yellow phosphorus like roman candles. = Really=20 something to see at night.=20 =20 'We stirred up a hornets' nest and the flak was thick - when it got = close you=20 could hear it popping like popcorn. We left the "flare ship" to count = the=20 burning trucks and then headed for home. Just another routine mission. = But we=20 still had our 20 mm ammo left and I hated to take it home. I called the = airborne=20 command post and asked if they had any gun targets. They told me to = contact a=20 FAC at Tchepone. He had spotted trucks on a ferry crossing the river = there.=20 =20 'We contacted the FAC to coordinate altitudes before we got into his = area. We=20 used a secret "base" altitude which changed every 12 hours so that the = enemy=20 could not listen in and find out our heights and then set the fuzes on = his=20 shells for that altitude. That night base altitude was 8000 ft. He said = he was=20 at base plus four, or 12,000 ft. I said. "You must mean minus four?" = He said=20 no. I asked what the hell he was doing way up there and he replied that = his=20 Cessna O-2 wouldn't climb any higher! His flares were floating so high = that=20 they did not illuminate the ground, and I had to circle until I got = their=20 reflection on the river before I could see it. Bill kept saying = something about=20 "bingo" fuel (the minimum required to get back home with 2000 lbs of = fuel=20 remaining). 'A few guns were shooting at our sound, but not coming = close. I=20 knew there were no radar-controlled guns because otherwise we would have = been=20 tracked and fired on accurately while we were circling. I finally got it = worked=20 out and caught the ferry in the flare reflection on the river and rolled = in. I=20 fired about a three-second burst in a 30-degree dive from about 1500 ft. = The=20 muzzle flashes lit us up like a Christmas tree and said, "Here I am! = Shoot me!"=20 and did they ever! Now I knew why that FAC was so high. I pulled about = 5Gs to=20 get pointed straight up. 'A small part of my mind registered a red = light=20 flashing somewhere in the cockpit but I was too busy to look at it. = When I ran=20 out of airspeed at the top and had figured out up from down and was = upright=20 again the light was out.=20 =20 'The FAC was encouraging, saying he had seen lots of hits on the ferry = with his=20 night vision scope, so I got set up to go in again. Bill didn't think it = was a=20 good idea. Indeed, there were lots of guns protecting the ferry. Most of = them=20 were twin barrel 37 mm weapons. I could tell because the "red hot beer = cans"=20 streaking past the aeroplane came up in strings of eight. The 37 mm gun = fired=20 clips of four rounds, so eight meant twin barrels. I was worried about=20 radar-controlled 57 mm twin barrel units mounted on tracked vehicles = that often=20 accompanied large truck convoys, but there was no evidence of them. The = most=20 spectacular show was provided by the many 23 mm ZSU units. These were = four=20 barrels mounted on a tracked vehicle, and they put out a string of = tracers that=20 waved around the sky like a kid playing with a high-pressure water hose. = =20 'My normal tactic at night over a well-defended target was to get = directly over=20 it at about 8000 ft, roll inverted, and pull the nose down to the = target, drop=20 my bomb at about 5000 ft and then pull up into a vertical climb = (essentially a=20 loop beginning at the top). Just before I ran out of airspeed, I would = pull the=20 nose down to level and roll upright. This faked out the gunners = because they=20 expected me to be off to the side of the target. I was only vulnerable = in the=20 first part of my pull-up. Under very heavy fire I sometimes varied this = by not=20 pulling up immediately but by turning 90 degrees and continuing down = to low=20 altitude with low power and coasting a few miles away from the target = (and the=20 guns). When using my guns, I would dive slightly off to the side, go = lower=20 and pull up to a 30-degree dive before firing. 'Bill kept bothering me = with=20 this "bingo" fuel business but I didn't have time to discuss it with = him. On my=20 second pass, I had to use the same heading as the first run in order to = see the=20 target - not a very smart thing to do. When our muzzle flashes lit us up = again,=20 I had the feeling that if I pulled up as usual every gun would be = aimed at our=20 recovery path, so I didn't pull up. I used my alternate tactic. The = sky behind=20 and above us was filled with a spectacular display of fireworks. The FAC = was=20 figuratively jumping up and down because we had torched off some of the = trucks=20 on the ferry and on the south shore of the river, where the vessel was = now=20 resting. Now we did not have to circle around to catch the reflection of = the=20 flares to locate the target.=20 =20 'We still had 600 rounds left =E2=80=94 six seconds worth of firing. We = could approach=20 from any direction since we could see the burning target. Bill was = getting a=20 little shrill now and yelling something about "bingo minus two". I told = him I=20 would wind it up with two more passes and then go home. After each pass, = when I=20 was pulling 5-6Gs to fake out the gunners, there was that pesky red = light in the=20 cockpit. I was so busy trying not to join up with those strings of = "red hot=20 beer cans" that I didn't notice what it was. We left the FAC to add up = the=20 damage and headed home. 'Relieved of all ordnance and most of its fuel, = the=20 B-57 climbed like a homesick angel. In short order we were passing = 35,000 ft and=20 I had Bill tighten his oxygen mask and check his system for pressure = breathing.=20 As we passed 45,000 ft, we had to forcefully breathe out and just = relax and=20 let the pressure blow up our lungs to breathe in. At 53,000 ft we were = above=20 over 95 percent of the atmosphere. At that altitude the engines used = very little =20 fuel. When we arrived over Pleiku we were 150 nautical miles from home = and had=20 just 800 lbs of fuel! Normally, when you land with 2000 lbs that is = considered=20 an emergency, but I had been through this many times before, and was = only=20 concerned with having enough fuel to taxi to the ramp.=20 =20 'At that altitude, when you reduce power to idle, it only reduces = slightly=20 because the engines cannot reduce fuel consumption very much without = flaming=20 out. So, in order to reduce power and expedite our decent, I had to shut = off one=20 engine. I shut down the right engine because we would be flying a left = hand =20 traffic pattern. Bill was somewhat unhappy. I maintained a 0.84 Mach = descent, =20 which meant that the descent got progressively steeper as you got into = the=20 denser air at low altitude. This let us down inside the hole of the = artillery=20 doughnut at 12,000 ft, keeping us out of the arc of outgoing artillery = fire. We=20 were approaching from the north and had to land to the east. Once inside = the=20 hole, I extended speed brakes and pushed the nose over to maintain = speed. =20 Extending speed brakes at 500 knots is like running into a brick wall, = and we=20 were thrown forward hard enough to lock our automatic shoulder = harnesses. That=20 is when that pesky red light in the cockpit came on again. This time I=20 determined what it was. It was the low fuel pressure light. This was = confirmed=20 by the unwinding of the left engine.=20 =20 'I was at a critical point in my traffic pattern and had no time to deal = with a=20 double engine flameout, so I shut off the left throttle, banked 90 = degrees right=20 and pulled the nose around to a heading 180 degrees from the landing = heading.=20 Then I rolled inverted, and with about 5Gs pulled the nose down the = line of=20 approach lights to the end of the runway and then up the centre-of the = runway=20 lights, varying the Gs to complete my split-ess at about 1500 ft and at = about=20 400-450 knots. 'While I was busy doing this I asked Bill to inform the = tower=20 that we had a double engine flameout and might need a tug to tow us = in. Bill=20 had lost his voice and never did make the call. When I leveled off from = my=20 split-ess I hit both air-start ignition switches and advanced both = throttles to=20 idle. After a 4G break to downwind, I lowered gear and flaps and both = engines=20 were making the low moaning sound they made when running at idle. After=20 touchdown I raised the flaps and added power so I could hold the nose = up. With=20 40 knots of headwind it was a long taxi to the far end of the runway. I = tried to=20 get Bill interested in betting on whether I could make it all the way = into the=20 de-arming area without lowering the nose wheel to the ground. For some = reason he=20 was not interested. Anyway, I did make it with the nose wheel in the = air, and=20 scared the bejesus out of the de-arming troops.=20 =20 'While they were de-arming my guns I figured it out. It had to be an = inoperative=20 forward boost pump in the main fuel tank. When I went to full power and = pulled=20 lots of Gs at Tchepone, one fuel pump could not handle the load and the = pressure=20 dropped =E2=80=94 not enough, thank God, to flame out the engines. When = I extended the=20 speed brakes in my descent to Phan Rang, what little fuel we had left = splashed=20 against the forward wall of the tank, uncovering the rear fuel pump and=20 resulting in a flameout. There is an old saying, "There are old pilots = and=20 there are bold pilots, but there are no old bold pilots". Not so, but = we bold=20 pilots need more luck than most.=20 =20 'We had enough fuel to make it back to the ramp. After we had parked and = deplaned, I made an inspection tour with the crew chief, armed with = powerful=20 electric torches. Not a scratch on her! Again, skill and cunning = triumphs over=20 ignorance and stupidity. The crew chief brought out the four beers from = the=20 tail compartment, ice cold from their sojourn at 50,000 ft, and I spread = my=20 maps on the ramp, giving a blow-by-blow description of the mission for = my crew=20 chief and armourer. I had an additional audience of most of the crew = chiefs and=20 armourers on the ramp who were not otherwise busy. Bill did not want his = beer so=20 I drank it too. Needless to say, Bill never got into an aeroplane with = me=20 again.'=20 =20 =20 =20 =20 =20 ------=_NextPart_000_003F_01CC72B4.C6FCFC90 Content-Type: text/html; charset="utf-8" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable

According = to Wikipedia, the runway at Phan Rang is 04/22. Was it different during = the Viet Nam conflict?

 =

-- = Mark=

 =

From:= = Jeff Edwards [mailto:vtailjeff@aol.com]
Sent: Tuesday, = September 13, 2011 4:32 PM
To: = lml@lancaironline.net
Subject: Re: [LML] Re: Fwd: Back = Seaters

 

Maybe he landed on the = taxiway...

AvSafe 

Jeff Edwards

314.308.6719 mobile

636.532.5638 office


On Sep 13, 2011, at 5:20 AM, = "William A. Hogarty" <billhogarty@gmail.com> = wrote:

Lynn:

I thought that the amount of = exaggeration in all fighter pilot stories was in direct proportion to = the number of drinks consumed by the story teller prior to telling the = story????

BTW, are you a member of the SSS ?

Regards,Bill = Hogarty

On Mon, Sep 12, 2011 at = 9:04 AM, Karen Farnsworth <farnsworth@charter.net> = wrote:

Co= nsidering that the runways at Phan Rang were north/south it would have = been very difficult to =E2=80=9Cland to the east=E2=80=9D. This little = inaccuracy leads me to believe that there just may be some exaggeration = involved in the telling of this tale.

&n= bsp;

&n= bsp;

Ly= nn Farnsworth

F-= 100 Pilot at Rhan Rang

&n= bsp;

From:= = Lancair Mailing List [mailto:lml@lancaironline.net] On = Behalf Of vtailjeff@aol.com
Sent: = Monday, September 12, 2011 7:48 AM
To: lml@lancaironline.net
Sub= ject: [LML] Fwd: Back Seaters

 <= /o:p>

&= nbsp;

&= nbsp;

-= ----Original Message-----
From: Rick Hadden <rickhadden@verizon.net>
= To: Mr. Daniel R. Bott <dbottaz@earthlink.net>; = Jeff Edwards <vtailjeff@aol.com>; Bill Hinson = <Willhinson@aol.com>; = Russell Schulz <RKS64MRS@aol.com>; Alan Shaw = <alan.shaw@vaxinnate.com>; = Mr. Richard Tems <richrov@aol.com>; Mr. Warren A. = Wilbur, III <warrenwilbur@comcast.net>= ; Paul Ziemer <PLZJ@aol.com>
Sent: Sun, Sep 11, = 2011 12:54 pm
Subject: Fwd: Back Seaters

A= tale worth the read!  I nominate this guy to the F-8 Crusader = Assn!

Rick

True =
Story!   For you non-aircrew guys, just call this "Four =
Beers!" ~~ (I was 
there at the =
same time...Bill)~~("Aeroplane" is the correct =
British/Canadian 
word).
 =

One of the best flying tales I've read in a long =
time. It's from the Osprey book 
B-57 ~ =
Canberra Units of the Vietnam War.  The B-57 was in high demand due =
to 
its loiter =
time, weapons loads and usually its accuracy.  It was one of the =
few 
a/c that =
carried the M35/M36 Funny Bomb that was a good weapon against truck =

targets. 
 
THE RELUCTANT =
BACK-SEATER 
 
Ed Rider was =
a Canberra pilot who had come up through the enlisted ranks, having =

done a stint as an Airborne Electronics Technician =
on the B-57 in the late 
1950s.  =
Ten years later he was a captain flying the Canberra out of Phan =
Rang.  
Rider was =
known for his aggressive flying and his own particular tactics that =

were more suited to a nimble fighter-bomber than =
the big B-57.  And by Rider's 
own =
admission, 'there were only about two navigators left who would fly with =

me'.  Before the war was allover he had =
completed more than 400 combat missions. =

The following is Rider's account of one such =
mission in 1968: 
 
'The =
"Yellowbirds" were back at Phan Rang flying night interdiction =
missions in 
the southern =
part of North Vietnam and along the supply routes down through =

Laos.  I had a patch on my party   =
flight suit that said "Laotian Highway =

Patrol".  'Other than the two navigators =
in the squadron who would willingly fly =

with me, the others did not like my highly =
unorthodox tactics. I tried to point 
out to them =
that other pilots were getting shot up =E2=80=94 or shot down =E2=80=94 =
while I 
never took =
hits and killed more trucks than most. Those idiots were coming back =

with their aeroplanes full of holes and getting =
medals for it. Anyway, my 
navigator =
came down with a bad case of "Ho's Revenge" and the other =
navigator 
was already =
flying, so someone had to be volunteered.  The hand of fate laid =
its 
clammy finger =
on Bill. After an earlier adventure that ended in a belly landing =

due to hydraulic failure, he had sworn never to =
fly with me again. We had to 
drag him =
scratching and spitting, so to speak, to the aeroplane. =

 
'We were =
taking off at midnight to hit a truck park way up in Laos.  I asked =
the 
crew chief if =
his aeroplane was ready, and when he said yes I gave him four =

beers to put into the rear compartment and told =
him to button it up (close all 
inspection =
doors).  I didn't insult him by inspecting the jet. The crew chiefs =

liked for me to fly their aeroplanes and I never =
had one let me down. I went 
around with =
the armourer and checked the fuzes on the bombs for proper settings =

and the arming wires for proper routing.  =
Then I spread my maps on the ramp and 
showed the =
crew chief and armourer where we were going and what we were supposed =

to hit. 
 
'We were in =
the northeast monsoon season and had 40 knots of wind blowing down =

the runway.  The standard night departure =
called for a right turn to the south 
after =
take-off until reaching the coast, then a turn to the east and then =
follow 
the coast to =
Cam Ranh Bay and turn on course. This was supposed to keep you out =

of the outgoing artillery, but it wasted about =
3000 lbs of   fuel, so naturally =

I didn't follow it. After I raised the gear I =
turned off all external lights so 
that the air =
traffic controllers in the tower could not see me. When I was high =

enough to drop a wing, I turned right 270 degrees =
so as to cross the west end of 
the runway =
headed northwest.  I roared across the 101st Airborne encampment =
and 
shook all the =
grunts out of bed and then   headed up the valley that led to =

Dalat in the mountains. The hills on either side =
were invisible as there were no 
lights on the =
ground, but if I maintained the proper heading I would not run =

into any rocks before I got high enough to clear =
them. Bill was somewhat unhappy 
with this =
exercise. In due course we climbed out of the valley and turned north =

to Pleiku, and points north.' =

 
'We checked =
in with "Blind Bat", our C-130 "flare ship", and =
from more than 50 
miles out we =
could see his flares and the anti-aircraft fire he was attracting. =

The gunners must have just gotten a fresh supply =
of ammo because they were even 
shooting at =
his flares. We let down and coordinated altitudes so that we would =

not run into each other.  We made eight =
vertical dive-bomb passes dropping our 
"funny =
bombs" =E2=80=94 this was the name that FACs gave to the M35 fire =
bomb. 
 
'This was the =
same bomb used to start the firestorms in Tokyo in World War 2.  =

It was a large cluster bomb that opened up a few =
thousand feet above the ground.  
The falling =
bomblets made a fiery waterfall until they hit the ground.  Then =

they spewed out burning white and yellow =
phosphorus like roman candles.  Really =

something to see at night. =

 
'We stirred =
up a hornets' nest and the flak was thick - when it got close you =

could hear it popping like popcorn.  We left =
the "flare ship" to count the =

burning trucks and then headed for home. Just =
another routine mission.  But we 
still had our =
20 mm ammo left and I hated to take it home. I called the airborne =

command post and asked if they had any gun =
targets.  They told me to contact a =

FAC at Tchepone. He had spotted trucks on a ferry =
crossing the river there. 
 
'We contacted =
the FAC to coordinate altitudes before we got into his area. We =

used a secret "base" altitude which =
changed every 12 hours so that   the enemy =

could not listen in and find out our heights and =
then set the fuzes on his 
shells for =
that altitude. That night base altitude was 8000 ft. He said he was =

at base plus four, or 12,000 ft. I said. "You =
must mean   minus four?" He said =

no. I asked what the hell he was doing way up =
there and he replied that his 
Cessna O-2 =
wouldn't climb any higher! His flares were   floating so high =
that 
they did not =
illuminate the ground, and I had to circle until I got their =

reflection on the river before I could see =
it.  Bill kept saying something about =

"bingo" fuel (the minimum required to =
get back home with 2000 lbs of fuel 
remaining).   'A few guns were shooting =
at our sound, but not coming close. I 
knew there =
were no radar-controlled guns because otherwise we would have been =

tracked and fired on accurately while we were =
circling. I finally got it worked 
out and =
caught the ferry in the flare reflection on the river and rolled in. I =

fired about a three-second burst in a 30-degree =
dive from about 1500 ft. The 
muzzle =
flashes lit us up like a Christmas tree and said, "Here I am! Shoot =
me!" 
and did they =
ever!  Now I knew why that FAC was so high.  I pulled about =
5Gs to 
get pointed =
straight up.  'A small part of my mind registered a red light =

flashing somewhere in the cockpit but I was too =
busy to look at it.  When I ran 
out of =
airspeed at the top and had figured out up from down and was upright =

again the light was out. =

 
'The FAC was =
encouraging, saying he had seen lots of hits on the ferry with his =

night vision scope, so I got set up to go in =
again. Bill didn't think it was a 
good idea. =
Indeed, there were lots of guns protecting the ferry. Most of them =

were twin barrel 37 mm weapons. I could tell =
because the "red   hot beer cans" =

streaking past the aeroplane came up in strings of =
eight.  The 37 mm gun fired 
clips of four =
rounds, so eight meant twin barrels. I was worried about =

radar-controlled 57 mm twin barrel units mounted =
on tracked vehicles that often 
accompanied =
large truck convoys, but there was no evidence of them. The most =

spectacular show was provided by the many 23 mm =
ZSU units. These were four 
barrels =
mounted on a tracked vehicle, and they put out a string of tracers that =

waved around the sky like a kid playing with a =
high-pressure water hose. 
 
'My normal =
tactic at night over a well-defended target was to get directly over =

it at about 8000 ft, roll inverted, and pull the =
nose down to the target, drop 
my bomb at =
about 5000 ft and then pull up into a vertical climb (essentially a =

loop beginning at the top).  Just before I =
ran out of airspeed, I would pull the 
nose down to =
level and roll upright. This faked out the   gunners because =
they 
expected me =
to be off to the side of the target. I was   only vulnerable =
in the 
first part of =
my pull-up. Under very heavy fire I sometimes varied this by not =

pulling up immediately but by turning 90 =
degrees   and continuing down to low =

altitude with low power and coasting a few miles =
away from the target (and the 
guns).  =
When using my guns, I would dive   slightly off to the side, =
go lower 
and pull up =
to a 30-degree dive before firing.  'Bill kept bothering me with =

this "bingo" fuel business but I didn't =
have time to discuss it with him. On my =

second pass, I had to use the same heading as the =
first run in order to see the 
target - not =
a very smart thing to do. When our muzzle flashes lit us up again, =

I had the feeling that   if I pulled up =
as usual every gun would be aimed at our =

recovery path, so I   didn't pull up. I =
used my alternate tactic. The sky behind =

and above us was filled with a spectacular display =
of fireworks. The FAC was 
figuratively =
jumping up and down because we had torched off some of the trucks =

on the ferry and on the south shore of the river, =
where the vessel was now 
resting. Now =
we did not have to circle around to catch the reflection of the =

flares to locate the target. =

 
'We still had =
600 rounds left =E2=80=94 six seconds worth of firing. We could approach =

from any direction since we could see the burning =
target. Bill was getting a 
little shrill =
now and yelling something about "bingo minus two". I told him =
I 
would wind it up with two more passes and then go =
home. After each pass, when I 
was pulling =
5-6Gs to fake out the gunners, there was that pesky red light in the =

cockpit. I was so busy trying not to   =
join up with those strings of "red hot =

beer cans" that I didn't notice what it =
was.  We left the FAC to add up the =

damage and headed home.  'Relieved of all =
ordnance and most of its fuel, the 
B-57 climbed =
like a homesick angel. In short order we were passing 35,000 ft and =

I had Bill tighten his oxygen mask and check his =
system for pressure breathing. 
As =
we   passed 45,000 ft, we had to forcefully breathe out and =
just relax and 
let the =
pressure blow up our lungs to breathe in.  At 53,000 ft we were =
above 
over 95 =
percent of the atmosphere. At that altitude the engines used very =
little   
fuel. When we =
arrived over Pleiku we were 150 nautical miles from home and had =

just 800 lbs of fuel!  Normally, when you =
land with 2000 lbs that is considered 
an emergency, =
but I had been through this many times before, and was only =

concerned with having enough fuel to taxi to the =
ramp. 
 
'At that =
altitude, when you reduce power to idle, it only reduces slightly =

because the engines cannot reduce fuel consumption =
very much without flaming 
out. So, in =
order to reduce power and expedite our decent, I had to shut off one =

engine. I shut down the right engine because we =
would be flying a left hand   =

traffic pattern. Bill was somewhat unhappy.  =
I maintained a 0.84 Mach descent,   =

which meant that the descent got progressively =
steeper as you got into the 
denser air at =
low altitude. This let us down inside the hole of the artillery =

doughnut at 12,000 ft, keeping us out of the arc =
of outgoing artillery fire.  We 
were =
approaching from the north and had to land to the east. Once inside the =

hole, I extended speed brakes and pushed the nose =
over to maintain speed.  
Extending =
speed brakes at 500 knots is like running into a brick wall, and we =

were thrown forward hard enough to lock our =
automatic shoulder harnesses.  That =

is when that pesky red light in the cockpit came =
on again.  This time I 
determined =
what it was.  It was the low fuel pressure light. This was =
confirmed 
by the =
unwinding of the left engine. 
 
'I was at a =
critical point in my traffic pattern and had no time to deal with a =

double engine flameout, so I shut off the left =
throttle, banked 90 degrees right 
and pulled =
the nose around to a heading 180 degrees from the landing   =
heading. 
Then I rolled =
inverted, and with about 5Gs pulled the nose down the   line =
of 
approach =
lights to the end of the runway and then up the centre-of   =
the runway 
lights, =
varying the Gs to complete my split-ess at about 1500 ft and at about =

400-450 knots.  'While I was busy doing this =
I asked Bill to inform the tower 
that we had =
a   double engine flameout and might need a tug to tow us in. =
Bill 
had lost his =
voice and never did make the call. When I leveled off from my =

split-ess I hit both air-start ignition switches =
and advanced both throttles to 
idle. After a =
4G break to downwind, I lowered gear and flaps and both engines =

were making the low moaning sound they made when =
running at idle. After 
touchdown =
I   raised the flaps and added power so I could hold the nose =
up. With 
40 knots of =
headwind it was a long taxi to the far end of the runway. I tried to =

get Bill interested in betting on whether I could =
make it all the way into the 
de-arming =
area without lowering the nose wheel to the ground. For some reason he =

was not interested. Anyway, I did make it with the =
nose wheel in the air, and 
scared the =
bejesus out of the de-arming troops. 
 
'While they =
were de-arming my guns I figured it out. It had to be an inoperative =

forward boost pump in the main fuel tank. When I =
went to full power and pulled 
lots of Gs at =
Tchepone, one fuel pump could not handle the load and the pressure =

dropped =E2=80=94 not enough, thank God, to flame =
out the engines.  When I extended the =

speed brakes in my descent to Phan Rang, what =
little fuel we had left splashed 
against the =
forward wall of the tank, uncovering the rear fuel pump and =

resulting in a flameout.  There is an old =
saying, "There are old pilots and 
there are =
bold pilots, but there are no old bold pilots".  Not so, but =
we bold 
pilots need =
more luck than most. 
 
'We had =
enough fuel to make it back to the ramp. After we had parked and =

deplaned, I made an inspection tour with the crew =
chief, armed with powerful 
electric =
torches.  Not a scratch on her! Again, skill and cunning triumphs =
over 
ignorance and =
stupidity.  The crew chief brought out the four beers from the =

tail compartment, ice cold from their sojourn at =
50,000 ft, and I spread   my 
maps on the =
ramp, giving a blow-by-blow description of the mission for my crew =

chief and armourer.  I had an additional =
audience of most of the crew chiefs and =

armourers on the ramp who were not otherwise busy. =
Bill did not want his beer so 
I drank it =
too.  Needless to say, Bill never got into an aeroplane with me =

again.' 
 
 
 

&= nbsp;

 

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