4. Vietnam II

V2

EPISODE 4

By C.R. Ryder

Major Wesley Clinton

B-52 Aircraft Commander

We were inbound to Old North Vietnam at FL300.

Our armament consisted of 51 bombs total with 27 internal and 24 external.  The bomber was heavy and responded poorly.

The weather was garbage.  A line of storm left over from the freak typhoon were lying just of the coast.  We had to plow right through it to get to the target.  We lost sight of one and two, forcing us to maintain the formation with radar.  The extra bombs on the wing pylons caused us a lot of drag making things just that much more work.  The gunner and navigator both got air sick. 

We hadn’t even gotten to the hard part yet.

It took two air refuelings due to the extra drag, the external bombs again, to get us to the coast.  After the second one we put on our survival vests and side arms on.  Our flak vests we positioned around the floor of the cockpit hoping that if a bullet does get through they would give us some protection.

The blue blur below us became green and brown.  We were in country.  We started running the checklists and things began to happen.  We went on Night Vision Goggles which are sensitive to anything except green light so we had to turn off all the red lights and tape over the ones we can’t with electrical tape.  This left the instrument panel dark so we taped up green chemical light sticks for illumination.  We also turned off all of our external lights so that no one can see us coming. 

It’s not stealth, but it’s as close as the B-52 will get.

"Get ready to go low."  I told everyone over the interphone.

We descended down to a couple hundred feet.  Already we started seeing anti-aircraft fire from the ground.  We witnessed everything from random small arms fire up to the big 57mm stuff.  The crew was getting excited and the copilot and I tell them it is all random fire. 

It’s a lie. 

I can't really tell if it is or not.  There is no reason to get worked up over it.  None of it seemed to be coming near us.

Yet.

The formation broke up.  Each aircraft took separate routes to the target, attacking it from three different directions with sixty seconds in between strikes. 

This whole plan was scary as hell because we’ve only practiced it once.  The planners wanted forty five seconds between aircraft, but none of us were comfortable with that.  Even with sixty second spacing the timing had to be perfect.  If not we were going to run into each other or fly into another bomber’s bomb run.

One and two were carrying British made 1000 pound bombs.  Once dispersed those bombs dig a hole into the ground and then explode cratering the runway.  Our aircraft was carrying mines carried inside cluster bombs.  They would make it difficult for the Vietnamese to repair the airfield.

The good thing for us was that we got to be the first to strike the target.  The bad thing is that, unlike the other two bombers, we had to pop up to 1000 feet for cluster bomb release. This made us much more exposed.  With bombing runs it is better to be really high or really low.  I always liked really high the best.

We were running checklists when the EWO claimed he’s picked up SAM search radar.

Great.

A scary thirty seconds go by.  The SAM never locks on to us. I doubt he even knew we were there. Their radar wasn't worth much down low.  Plus there are F-15s in the general area so maybe they’ll fire on them instead if the SAM decided to pop up.  The anti-aircraft guns worry me more, but so far nothing is coming anywhere close to us.

We hit the initial point and the navigator took over.  He was flying the airplane from that point for all intents and purposes.  The pilot would only manipulate the controls.  I was flying airspeeds and making course adjustments according to his inputs.  We backed him up in the cockpit with the Course Deviation Indicator which we tried to keep centered.

“60 seconds.”  The navigator called out over the intercom.

The bomb run had begun.

"RCD connected, light's on" The radar navigator said indicating that the final arming step was complete.

"30 seconds"

"Stepping out to my final offset" The Radar Navigator was making his final corrections and adjusting his aim point.  He was running the show.

"20 seconds…climb!"

It was time to climb to 1000 feet.  With a cold sense of dread I eased back on the yoke and we got up there in seconds.  Everyone was really uncomfortable.

"10 seconds,” The navigator said.  “Doors!”

The bomb doors opened.

"5, 4, 3...”  The navigator began the final countdown, “2, 1 bombs away"

The bombs rippled off the aircraft.  The plane felt lighter already and began to accelerate on its own.  The navigator closed the bomb doors at the same time I pushed the throttles up.  It was a lot of smash and I kept feeding in trim to keep the nose down.  In addition the plane wanted to turn right.  It was either bent or mistrimmed.  Either way I spent the escape route putting a lot of push into the rudder pedal to keep the bomber on course.  I almost had to put my foot through the floor of the flight deck.

We descended back down to the deck all while gunfire started coming from every direction.  Some of the flashes were big enough to be 37 millimeter so we started maneuvering.  We reached 450 knots just as we hit our assigned altitude.

I had really fucked up.  I had put in too much smash and the plane started to Mach tuck, the nose started going down and picked up speed which led to the nose going down more and picking up even more speed.  This would have kept going on if not corrected all the way to the crash site.  We were really close to the ground to begin with.  I forgot about the anti-aircraft for a minute and concentrated on trimming the plane nose up so we don’t die in a smoking hole.

Finally we were climbing out of there.  While we ascended back up to altitude the whole time I fought with the bomber.  It was a good feeling to be back up high again.

I got the plane trimmed up and we were flying right again.  We retrograded, which basically means we were headed home.  The navigator had us turned toward a retrograde heading when something big and ugly flew right past the nose of the bomber.

I banked left to avoid this asshole.

“Was that the damn Navy?”  I asked the copilot.

“That was a bandit.”  He told me flatly.

We were no longer alone in the air.

AIR TO AIR

Lieutenant Colonel Carol Madison

Air Force Intelligence Officer

The first reports of air to air engagements were starting to come in.  The Air Boss and his Generals all wanted minute by minute reports.  Unfortunately the satellite feed was busted.  It was a new system and the Comm/Computer guys were working it, but they did not seem very hopeful.

“We need updates.”  The Air Boss told me over the phone.  The Four Star sounded unhappy and I wished I had not picked the phone up when it rang.  It wasn’t even my phone.

“I don’t know how we are going to do that without the satellite link.  We have no visuals.”  I explained.

“Figure it out.”  He said followed by a click as he hung up.

It took less than an hour to tackle that little problem.  To get through the night we had a phone patch through Andersen to the AWACs.  A guy standing right by the Mission Crew Commander would relay information in real time throughout the night.

So began the fight between the US Navy and US Air Force versus the Vietnam People’s Air Force for the airspace over Vietnam.

Winner take all.

17 JANUARY 1991

AIR ENGAGEMENT #1

USAF F-15C vs. VPAF MiG-21

Senior Airman William Lydecker

E-3 SENTRY Weapons Director

I was a scope dope.  It involves running blue air against red air onboard the AWACs.  Of course it’s more complicated than that.  We have a saying that AWACs tell the fighters where to go.  We fly on this big Boeing 707 airliner with a giant radar dish on the top called a radome.  Onboard we control all the air in the area of responsibility.

This was the first night of the war and the first time AWACs was used in full scale air combat.  We could get by with a minimum crew of twelve in the back and four up front.  On Night One every seat was full.

Everybody wanted to fly a sortie tonight.  There were two other E-3s airborne and a spare sitting at Kadena and every AWACer I knew was hoping to get in the air and see some action.

After four years of training we’re doing it for real.  Everybody, but me that is.  It’s first night of the war and I can’t even do my job.  Instead I was stuck on a phone patch through Clark command post talking to the Operations Center at Hickam.

There was some lieutenant colonel on the other end of the line asking a lot of questions.  She has a nice voice though.  Sounds like she’s from New York or New Jersey.

I’d ask her if she weren’t an officer and if there were not twenty other people listening on the line between Vietnam to Hawaii.

The first air-air engagement of the war was a face off between two USAF F-15Cs and two Vietnamese MiG-21s.  The engagement lasted three minutes and ended with the F-15Cs triumphant. 

“Two V two, F-15C blue, MiG-21 red.  Splash two MiG-21s.”  I told Colonel Madison over the phone.  The two shot down MiG-21s were the first air-air kills of the war. 

They would not be the last.

Lieutenant Colonel Carol Madison

Air Force Intelligence Officer

In a comedy of logistics I had the weapons director on a phone held to my left ear while I passed on information to the Air Boss with another phone in my right ear.

“A flight of two F-15s just engaged with two MiG-21s.”

“What happened?”  The Air Boss asked.

“The MiG-21 was shot down by a Sparrow missile.”  I told him.

AIR ENGAGEMENT #2

USAF F-15Cs vs. VPAF SU-17s

Captain William Bell

F-15 Driver

AWACs said they were just up ahead.  As I swept the night skies I was unable to spot anything.  That didn't stop the tingling at the back of his neck or the pounding of my heart. 

Then I saw them.

Three moving dots, so low down that they were practically in line with the horizon, and completely backgrounded by the orange rays leaking from a dawn that was still a few hours away.  The instant I spotted them I pinned them in my vision, and waited for the moment when they would try to evade.  Instead they kept coming right at us.

“Follow me in.”

“Two,” I responded.

I watched as West fired one AIM-7 and then another.  Two bandits exploded in midair.  I did not see any chutes. 

I had to give it to West.  He was a great pilot.

The last bandit flew in an erratic S-turn pattern.  He was not running, but he was not engaging either.  It looked like he was trying to decide what to do now that his buddies were crispy critters.

“That last one is all yours.”

“Two,” I responded. 

I moved in for the kill.

Senior Airman William Lydecker

E-3 SENTRY Weapons Director

“Two V three.  Three Vietnamese SU-17 Fitters challenged another two ship of F-15s.  The lead F-15C scored a double-kill against two Fitters with AIM-7 missiles.  His wingman scored another kill on a third SU-17, for a total of three kills in the dogfight.”   I told the command center.

Lieutenant Colonel Carol Madison

U.S. Air Force Intelligence Officer

“Another F-15 two ship has come under attack by VPAF fighters.”  I told everyone.  The whole room was huddled around my station. My phone patch had become the main artery of the war and I, for a brief moment, was the star of the show. “They dropped two SU-17s.”

A cheer rang out through the command center.

“Wait.”  I said.  It was hard to hear the weapons director on the AWACs without everyone yelling at once.

Everyone got quiet expecting devastating news.

“They shot down three.