ROLLING THUNDER REMEMBERED 9 MARCH 1966

Good Morning: Day NINE of our long look back to Operation Thunder…Fifty Years Ago…

9 MARCH 1966 (NYT)…ON THE HOMEFRONT … It was a fair and mild day in New York and clear in Washington. The President was occupied with NATO and France’s reluctance to go along with the rest of the membership on almost everything. The NYT front page featured a lengthy review of “Rolling Thunder” without naming the operation since the identifier was still classified. Reporter R.W. Apple’s lead item was the news that the Australians had increased their troop commitment to the war three fold to 4500, more troops than the Aussies had fielded in the Korean War. Apple noted that the raids into North Vietnam had set a record for sorties and missions in one day for the third time in five days, and the tempo of ops was the highest since the March 1965 start of the attacks on the North. He wrote: the raids “…have had a single purpose: to so cripple North Vietnam’s ability to support the war in the south that the Hanoi regime would be forced to the conference table.” He concluded that there had been no positive results so far, just that there had been an increase in supplies and a more “obdurate diplomatic posture” by Hanoi’s communist leadership. The U.S. war “…can never end as long as the North remains an arsenal and recruiting ground for the Viet Cong. With more planes available, Washington has begun to put the maximum possible pressure on Hanoi.” No mention of mining the Haiphong harbor as suggested by General Maxwell Taylor in a response to Senator Symington’s “28 questions for the general.” There was nothing of note about the ground war in the south. However, there was an update on U.S. Killed in Action: forty-four more in less than a week. (To put this in perspective with the war in Iraq/Afghanistan: during the entire year of 2011, the total U.S. KIA in I/A was less than 20). On an NYT internal page I found an interesting report that the Governor of New York was supporting an increase in the minimum wage to $1.50. Protest reports of note: 800 folks rallied for peace in the Manhattan Center.

Meanwhile, your humble author, stuck on the sidelines of the war as a hardcore instructor in VA-125, was logging 20 FCLPs on 9 March 1966 in prep for a carrier qualification detachment. The instructors always had high hopes for some spare deck time and an opportunity to snivel or bag a few landings while accompanying and providing adult supervision to a class of nuggets and “must pumps” CQing on their way to the war. (I had no luck bagging a few traps on that trip to the boat, but it was always worth being ready, just in case.) Bagging carrier landings remains one of the great pursuits and rewards for skill and cunning in Naval Aviation.

9 MARCH 1966… ROLLING THUNDER … It was a quiet day for the Red River Rats and Yankee Air Pirates, but a disastrous day for the air forces supporting the intense fighting in the A Shau Valley. An AC-47D from the 4th Air Combat Squadron based at Tan Son Nhut and operating out of Danang, was lost in the fight. In the early morning hours of 9 March the Special Forces Camp manned by 20 U.S. and 375 ARVN troops came under attack by 2000 NVA troops. A low overcast precluded air strikes but a Candlestick C-123 kept the perimeter of the camp lit with flares through the night so the defenders could hold off an enemy attack. By mid-day on the 9th the camp was in desperate straits and a 400-foot overcast limited options available to assist. Into the breech rode the brave. SPOOKY 70, an AC-47 piloted by CAPTAIN WILLARD MARION COLLINS responded and after a few unsuccessful passes to penetrate the low clouds, CAPT COLLINS broke through, found the enemy and made a firing pass. On the second pass the aircraft, SPOOKY 70, was hit hard by ground fire and both engines failed. The aircraft crashed into a mountain five miles north of the enemy position. The crew survived the crash, but CAPT COLLINS and SERGEANT ROBERT EUGENE FOSTER were Killed in Action in close combat with the NVA. An Air Force HH-43 braved the enemy fire to pick up three survivors, a pick-up made possible by SPOOKY 70 co-pilot 1LT DELBERT RAY PETERSON who charged the enemy and drove them back allowing the HH-43 to exit the area with three survivors from the crew. 1LT PETERSON was listed as MIA until 1978 when he was declared Killed in Action. CAPT COLLINS and 1LT PETERSON were each awarded the Air Force Cross, posthumously.  “Greater love hath no man than he who lays down his life for others.”

Also lost at A Shau on March 9 was 1LT AUGUSTO MARIA XAVIER, USMC, VMA-311, flying an A4 Skyhawk. The young aviator made two strafing passes on the enemy in the face of intense ground fire. He was Killed in Action exiting the battleground. 1LT XAVIER was awarded the Silver Star, posthumously, for “his determination in pressing home his attack in foul weather.” (Hobson) No easy days.

Ripple Salvo: In this first week of “remembering,” the issue of mining the Haiphong harbor was raised and squelched by the President and the Secretary of defense. (see my 3 March 1966) I have received an input on the subject from one of my mentors, RADM Tom Brown, one of the bravest of the brave.

He writes for the record: “Reading this statement (LBJ: the mining “…would involve greater risk of a direct military clash with the Soviet Union with marginal effect on the fight in the South.”) reminded me of something that occurred to me after returning from my first deployment to the Gulf of Tonkin about 1 September 1965. I was en route to VA-125 and on leave over Labor Day weekend. I received a call from Skipper Jack Endacott requesting that I terminate leave and go to DC to testify before Congress about Close Air Support in South Vietnam.

“I did get there and while waiting to testify I went to the office of a friend in the Pentagon and during the conversation I complained about the Alpha Strike targeting in NVN. I said we were passing up good targets to go bomb crappy targets and that we were not getting our enemies’ attention. My friend reached down in a drawer and pulled out the latest Rolling Thunder targeting document. In it we were requesting to mine Haiphong and bomb targets in and around Hanoi (which we eventually did six to seven years later in 1972). At the end was written in long-hand, ‘Permission denied. What we have to gain is not worth the risk.’ Signed Robert J. McNamara.  As the saying goes… ‘and the rest is history.’!!!”

Also for the record…Commander Task Force-77 maintains a library of up-to-date, ready to go on short notice, countless contingency strike plans. For one year (6/70-7/70) I was the staff puke responsible for the care and currency of those plans, which always included a shelf full of mining plans. Plans are on the shelf for execution by any number of carriers and all possible mine fields. The plans are pre-planned months ahead of time and are approved by the chain of command, in general, so that all commanders from the line to the White House War Room can immediately focus on the same specific option as a crisis develops. This permits the CTF-77, or any equivalent commander to incorporate changes and the small up-dates to details necessary to ensure execution as planned. The CTF-77 mine plans were ready to go for the duration of Rolling Thunder (65/68) and beyond. The plan executed coincident with Linebacker in 1972 was one of those contingency plans that had also been ready to go in 1966 when General Maxwell and the Joint Chiefs of Staff were recommending to LBJ and SecDef the mining of Haiphong harbor.

Mines, the weapons that wait are a very effective weapon to have in a nation arsenal. I have always wondered why the MK-55 mine, and others in the family, haven’t been accompanied by an inert identical shape for use as an alternative to the real thing.  The Laws of War governing the use of mines require the user to provide the maritime world both the fact that a specific area has been mined and the time when it will become active and ready to blow. This means that mines are laid with the requirement that they wait in order to give third nation shipping an opportunity to clear the contested waters. This requirement sets the stage for the laying of a minefield of inert weapons, or old bathtubs, to achieve the same effect on the behavior of ship captains and harbor masters. A nation’s aircraft, ships or subs enter the mine field, plant their “mines.” The enemy sees the mine layer’s tracks, and the splashes, then is told the mines are in place and will become active at the end of the required warning time. The enemy harbor masters will have little choice but to shut down passage of the “mined” area, as if real Mk-55s are counting ships and waiting for the right time to strike. In addition, the inerts, or old bathtubs, would eliminate the requirement that a mine laying nation return and sweep up their unexploded mines. I wonder if there are any mine warfare contingency plans that include an option to employ inerts or old bathtubs?  Should be.       Deceitful bluffing is a powerful tool in the art of war. Love? …not so much.

ADMINISTRATIVE: A story of a MIG Kill tale from July 1968, a little after Rolling Thunder is provided below, to indicate that your humble host loves fighter pilots and is a sucker for a good tale where a fighter crew actually kills something…Roy Cash was my CAG on Coral Sea in 83 for our accident free around the world cruise. If you have a good tale versus North Vietnam Route Pack One and north, it goes here. Let’s have it.

Lest we forget…..Bear Taylor …. at home in the land of pleasant living…

Remembering the bloody fighting at A Shau, as well as…

Rolling Thunder on 9 March 1966, 50-years …

VF-33 MiG-21 Kill; Vinh, NVN – 10 July, 1968

LT Roy “Outlaw” Cash and LTJG J. E. (Ed) “Killer” Kain

VF-33 deployed aboard USS America (CVA-66) in May 1968 for the Western Pacific – Gulf of Tonkin, to be exact – on its first (and only) combat cruise of the Viet Nam conflict.  The squadron was commanded by CDR W. D. Knutson, who was relieved by CDR Dave Shepherd in June.  Our sister squadron was VF-102; the Diamondbacks were commanded by CDR W. E. Wilber, who would have the misfortune of being shot down by a MiG in mid-June.  While that was, indeed, a tragedy – the Skipper’s RIO, Bernie Rupinski, was killed in the engagement – the event prompted a change in our tactics that would be instrumental in the downing of the MiG-21 on 10 July 1968 by the crew flying Rootbeer 212, an F-4J assigned to the VF-33 Tarsiers.

The Navy was not having much luck with the MiGs up to this point.  Problems with the new Pulse Doppler (PD) radar, the AIM-7E Sparrow missiles, our tactics – or lack thereof – were really hampering us and were having a very negative effect on our morale.  Of course, VF-33’s problems with the Sparrows were similar to everyone else’s problems; almost no problems with the Sidewinders.  We trusted the AIM-9s but not AIM-7s.  Would have loved a gun!  We needed a break and we needed to find a way to thwart the – thus far – successful tactics of the NVN MiGs.  But it would not be easy.  The MiGs’ ploy to this point was simple: sweep down below the “no-fly” line (the 19th parallel, as I recall), attack the A-4s and A-7s, or just feign an attack, then sneak back above the “no-fly” line.  Then, when fighters were vectored north and had to turn back at the “no-fly” line, the MiGs would jump up out of the weeds and execute a quick attack on the fighters as they headed south, and return to their sanctuary.  That’s what happened to CDR Wilber and Bernie – the VF-33 Tarsiers determined it wouldn’t happen again.  If we were forced up against the “no-fly” fence, we would not simply turn away; rather, we would execute a planned feint ourselves and be ready for the sneak attack out of the weeds.

And we had finally developed some devious plans of our own that would more than match the MiGs’ well conceived and, thus far, successful ploy…!

On 10 July, 1968, Ed and I were scheduled for a MiGCAP near Vinh, NVN.  We were designated as the wingman (Rootbeer 212) in a flight of two F-4J’s flying off the USS America, CVA-66.  We had been on Yankee Station since the end of May with one port visit to Cubi Pt. in late June; so we were back on station after a “July 4th” break at the Cubi Pt. O’Club, you might say.  And, as anyone who has been to Cubi knows; a night at the Cubi Pt. O’Club could be more exciting than a MiG engagement.  My flight lead was Maj. Charlie Wilson (Rootbeer 210, as I recall), a USAF exchange pilot who had been in the squadron for about a year; he had joined us on our Med cruise the year before.  I made the whole Med cruise, so I was fairly experienced in the aircraft and squadron; at that point, I had approximately 600 hours and 250 traps in the F-4.  I had fired four or five Sparrows and Sidewinders, each, prior to the 10 July engagement.  Our aircraft were brand new F-4J’s; our Med cruise birds (F-4B’s) had been traded in for new “J’s.”  New engines, radar, ECM gear, etc.

Charlie and I launched mid-afternoon (around 1500, I think) and were assigned MiGCAP station about 15 miles off Vinh, clear of the beach, but close enough to “buster” feet dry if the opportunity was presented.  We determined soon after launch that Charlie’s radar was marginal to non-existent, so it was agreed that if we took a vector for bandits, I would assume the lead.  My RIO was LTJG J.E. (Ed) Kain; Charlie’s RIO was LTJG Bill Williams.  We established CAP station quickly, and then about 45 minutes to one hour into the flight, our controller, “Raider,” (USS Horne) called us over to “cipher” frequency to alert us to impending MiG activity.  Basically, the intel boiled down to the fact that MiGs were about to launch and sortie down to attack some A-7’s on their strike missions just below the “no-fly” line just north of Vinh.  Raider kept us apprised of the increasing activity and MiG communications (our ECM and “spy” planes had picked up good info on the MiGs, apparently), switching us back and forth from “clear” to “cipher” frequencies.

I told Raider that, in the event we were vectored, we would not simply head for the MiGs; we would fly a specific attack profile (our new, devious plan) and they concurred.  That profile was as follows:  We would vector west at high speed and low altitude to gain a position southwest of the approaching MiGs so as to be able to vector north with the afternoon sun over our left shoulders.  That ploy should provide surprise and put us in a position so the bandits could not see us well – coming out of the sun.  The MiGs’ tactics at this point in the war was to dash in over the no-fly line, shoot the attack birds and retreat north to safety before fighters could be vectored for them.  The MiGs finally launched and started south.  Raider advised us of that information and, in accordance with our plan, vectored us west; we jettisoned our centerline tanks, armed missiles and hit the deck.  We weren’t anxious – no fear; the training we had received kicked in and we did everything automatically.  We went down to 1500′ and got to the western-most karst ridgeline just as the MiGs headed south and crossed the no-fly line.  We were vectored north/northwest, turned and pointed to the area they were coming from and immediately got a PD radar contact – 32 miles, as I recall.  We were still low and the MiGs were at around 5,000′.  We were told on cipher they were two “Blue Bandits,” which identified them as MiG-21’s; no other known bandits in the area.  We were also told that the MiG communications was being jammed by our EA-3 ECM bird, sitting just off the coast – another new ingredient in our tactical scheme.  That meant they probably would not know we were coming.  Our devious plan was in motion and appeared to be working – game on; great sport!

We continued in at low level, at a speed around 550 kts, smoke off (anti-smoke device on the F-4, as I’m sure you are aware of, diminished amount of smoke emitted by the J-79’s), in combat spread formation, with Charlie at my 3 o’clock position, so he could look through me at “bad guy” country.  He still had no radar.  Since the MiGs had been “positively” ID’ed, I asked for “clearance”, meaning clearance to fire.  To my utter amazement, Raider responded, “Roger, contacts are two blue bandits; you are cleared to fire!”  Ed and I were ecstatic, since normal procedures had always required visual VID; I checked switches armed and ready, made sure missiles indicated good; they did.  We were loaded with AIM-7E Sparrows on fuselage stations and AIM-9G Sidewinders on rails.  I reviewed in my mind procedures for switching from radar to heat and we kept on tracking.  We maintained radar contact continuously, and were now down to 20 miles; we checked everything again, kept Charlie up to speed on the developing situation.  He was to maintain visual lookout for other bandits who might be hiding in the weeds.  At 12 miles I reconfirmed “clear to fire” with Raider and began looking intently for any sight of the bandits.  At eight miles Ed locked on and I began looking in earnest for sight of the MiGs.  At around 6 miles, I called, “Tally-ho two, on the nose.”  What I really saw was two glints from the bright sun behind us on the silver fuselages of the MiGs, not the aircraft themselves; but from 6-7 miles in, I never lost sight.  Locked on, dot in the center, MiGs head-on, it looked good for sparrow shots down the throat.  At 5-6 miles the missile launch circle began to expand, indicating max range, expanding to mid or optimum range.  At four miles the circle reached its largest diameter, indicating optimum firing parameters had been met.  I pickled off two sparrows and called, “Fox one…fox one.”  The sparrows appeared to guide, heading for what looked like an imminent kill.  Then, suddenly, the range on radar appeared to freeze at 3-4 miles and I watched as the MiGs, now fully in sight and looking exactly like MiG-21s, not sun glints, began a lazy left turn away from us…and the missiles – guess what the sparrows did!  They saw decreasing Doppler and by the time the sparrows got to the MiGs, the sparrows were looking at a belly-up, beam aspect, Ø Doppler; the AIM-7’s exploded harmlessly at the MiGs’ 2 o’clock position, about 100-200 yards away from number two (my estimate).

Until the sparrows exploded, the MiGs had no idea we were there.  The wingman, apparently startled by the sparrows, broke into the explosions, but then back left to stay in a welded wing position on his leader.  He then apparently realized the precarious situation he had placed himself in – I was quickly approaching a good 5-6 o’clock firing position and he again broke hard into me, by this time rapidly closing to a firing position.  The MiGs were only about 350 kts, but he quickly came into and just as quickly inside minimum range.  I had switched to heat and fired off a sidewinder as he zipped through my windscreen (I heard a very short AIM-9 growl/tone), but the aspect was almost 90 degrees off, less than 1,000′, so the sidewinder missed; but it scared him so badly he continued his descending right break, hit the deck (in fact, almost flew into the trees) and headed north, out of the fight.  Meantime, I was performing a 5-G left barrel roll to saddle up behind the leader, who, by this time, had figured out the program and was breaking right into me.  Charlie broke left over the top of me to track the first MiG I’d fired at, and spotted two more MiG 21’s down in the weeds, about three miles away; simultaneously, Red Crown (USS Long Beach) broadcast, “Heads up, Rootbeers, you got two more bandits west.”

I was too busy to respond and Charlie was telling me he saw them, too; however, I doubt if I would have reacted to Charlie’s calls…I was determined to get the MiG in my sights rather than think of my own safety.  Also, Ed called, “Six clear; go for it!”, so I continued my hard right turn and with my energy, combined with the MiG leader’s bad position and slow speed, I quickly attained 5-6 o’clock, about 3/4 mile (1500-1800 yds.), pulled the trigger and called, “Fox Two”!  I watched the Sidewinder guide and impact the tail area of the MiG and blow the empennage completely off.  The pilot obviously knew he was had, because almost simultaneously with the impact, I saw his seat drogue chute, followed quickly by his personal chute.  It appeared he had ejected either just prior to impact or as impact occurred.  I watched the pilot float by me as his aircraft tumbled and became a ball of fire.  My reaction to the kill was, “I got him!  I got him!  I got the son of a gun!!!” as the AIM-9 hit.  (Right…I didn’t get vulgar, just excited.) Meantime, Charlie had called out something to me about breaking; didn’t hear it, but what he had said, was: “Lead, break starboard…I mean, PORT!!”  (Even though Navy fighters had discarded the shipboard verbiage “port” and “starboard” for the more distinct “left” and “right”, Charlie slipped into the traditional terms now and then – just trying to adapt to the Navy, I guess.  I got to hear his erroneous call on the tape, later!)  Well, the reason for his call: one of the MiGs hiding in the weeds had fired off an Atoll – a hip shot, if you will – well out of range, and I was vaguely aware of its smoke trail corkscrewing lazily across the sky, well away from me.  I broke back to where the other MiGs were coming from and saw them hit the deck, about 2-3 miles away, and they turned tail and ran.    As soon as they were tail-on, they literally disappeared, vanished – couldn’t find them, visually or on radar, so I called Charlie to, “Unload, unload, Bug-Out, Bug-Out!”, and we headed for the water, excited with our triumph.  Their ploy to jump us had been trumped by our new tactics!  When we got to the beach, we called, “feet wet” and Raider called and confirmed, “Way to go, Rootbeers; splash one blue bandit.”  I responded with something like, “Atta-boy, Raider, we got that son-of-a-gun!”  As it turned out, the guy I shot down was their flight leader.  In fact, he was a squadron leader – a Lieutenant Colonel with several kills to his credit – and he got out of his aircraft alive.  Navy Intel also told us was that he was “probably” the guy who, three weeks earlier, had shot down Gene Wilber, CO of VF-102.

(An Update Note: Just last month (Feb 2016), I talked with Tom Wilber, son of CDR Gene Wilber, who had been to Vietnam to help recover remains of Gene Wilber’s RIO, Bernie Rupinski.  Tom confirmed, through another former VPAF Colonel that the MiG pilot I shot down was, indeed, the one who shot down his father in June, 1968.  Tom even provided the name of the guy: LCOL Dinh Ton; he passed away in 1985.  I can provide Tom Wilber’s contact info, if you want/need it.)

We turned over the CAP to another VF-33 aircrew, gave them a quick review of what happened and headed for the ship.  We hit the tanker, took on enough gas to get to the ship and I performed my best rendition of a low-level flight deck pass (eye level with the Air Boss, I was told later) and climbing victory roll.  We were held until the recovery was complete, and then heard the Air Boss say, “The pattern’s yours, 212.”  I flew an OK-3, one of four OK (underlined) passes in my career. (Of course, the LSO would have given me an OK-3 even if I’d hit the ramp, probably. J) The ship and air wing crews swarmed us after landing in much the way depicted in the movie “TOPGUN” when Maverick and Iceman return to the ship after shooting down the bad guys.  Captain F. C. “Fox” Turner even “piped” us aboard: “Ding, ding; LT Roy Cash and LTJG Ed Kain, arriving.”  It was a neat feeling to be a hero for a day – in fact hero for the cruise.

There were no other shoot downs on that cruise; just a couple of brief engagements.  Our kill was the first by an F-4J, the first by an Atlantic Fleet Carrier (CVA-66), the first score for the Tarsiers of VF-33 and the last F-4 MiG kill of the Rolling Thunder campaign.

One more PS: I quit smoking as a result of that kill; I had told some guys in the Ready Room, as we suited up and prepared to man our aircraft, “If I shoot down a MiG today, I’m going to quit smoking.”  I suppose God said, “Oh, yeah?  Well, watch this!”  I haven’t smoked since.

Some other details you may be interested in:

– Ed and I were awarded the Silver Star shortly after the MiG engagement and kill; the award process was really quick, back then!  It was the highest award presented on the cruise; next highest award was a DFC for one other F-4J crew for air-to-ground action.

– This was only MiG kill of the 1968 America cruise; there were three or four other encounters, most prior to the one on 10 July.

– CDR Wilber and wingman LT Emory Brown, who shot a missile at the retreating MiG, but in his debrief, concluded that he’d missed.  He was later given credit for a “probable.”

– Gene Tucker, also in VF-33, had one encounter, but his sparrows failed to arm; no luck, no kills.  Gene later got a MiG kill on another cruise, in a different squadron.

– Cdr. Shepherd had one encounter, but was mixed in with some F-8s and almost fired his AIM-7 on the F-8s!  A real fiasco!  Of course, we know the Sparrows wouldn’t have hurt anyone!

It was during this 1968 WestPac cruise that Captain Frank Ault conducted his infamous MiG/ACM/missile-problem investigation and report on the Navy’s rather unsuccessful tactics and associated problems with the AIM-7E.  This report is what prompted studies that eventually led to the development of the U.S. Navy’s TOPGUN training program.  VF-33 and VF-102 crews were interviewed by the Ault team, after my kill.