Bockscar:
Berny;
Thanks for that, By the way, It being Veteran's Day (Monday) and all, I was just wondering, would you care to share a story about some situation you found yourself in, maybe a Phantom crew you always wondered about, or wished for a better outcome on their behalf?
We don't have a lot of opportunities to hear things from the guys that were there, like in 'Nam, unfiltered through the media, and if your not really inclined I understand.
Most of us go to work, make decisions, and everyone comes home afterward. But guys like you and Rex, your decisions were in fact life and death, but just part of your everyday routine.
Anything ever happen that kept you up at night, a close call, a dumb luck story, maybe isn't classified or political? I've always been a student of how people actually think and act under pressure, then how they live with outcomes in the big picture.
By the way, thanks for the info on the Sparrow launching mechanism, my dad always said if there was no mechanical connection, don't expect a mechanical outcome.....
I had just completed my second tour in SEA, one in Nam and one in Thailand when I was sent state side to Hill AFB, UT with the F-4 Rapid Area Maintenance Team (RAM Team). I was sent to Clark AB, Philippines for a six month TDY. When not on a RAM assignment we would be doing the rocket seat mod or cannon plug mod on the F-4 at Clark. There was six teams at Clark, two in Nam and two in Thailand, each team for a six month TDY. After serving our six months at Clark we would go back to Hill AFB for 24 hours and and get sent to Thailand for six months, back to Hill AFB for 24 hours and then to Nam for six months. Then we would go back to Hill AFB for three months and start all over again.
The procedure was when you completed a RAM assignment you would go to the bottom of the list. When you were number two on the list the team went on 12 hour recall. Number one and you were on 30 minute call. Me and my team was on 12 hour call when the Capt came up to me. I was working in a cockpit doing the rocket seat mod. He told me to assemble my team and report to him in 15 minutes for a briefing.
I got my team together and sent them over to base ops and went to see the Capt. He told me a F-4C Wild Weasel had gone down in country X due to fuel transfer problems. The crew had ejected but the jet landed in an open field, fully intact. My job was to take two teams into country X and get all traces of the aircraft out. Just a week before President Nixon stood up and told the world we were not over flying, conduction any type of missions or had any combat troops in country X. I was to go in as team leader and evaluate and request any assistance I needed to remove the aircraft.
We always had a C-130 on 30 minute ramp alert to take the teams anywhere needed. We flew to a base in Thailand where we changed into civilian clothes, got on a helicopter and flew to the crash sight. I was met by an army 1st Lt that told me we had 72 hours to take the jet apart and get it out. I told him even under ideal conditions with the jet in a hanger, prepped, with engines removed, fuselage fuel cells removed, on a crib and jig it would take half that time just to remove the wings. He told me he had three rings of troops around the site, each half a mile apart and the first ring was already under fire. I told he to be back in 72 hours to pick us up.
The proper procedure is to remove the wings first. The engines have to be removed to gain access to the wing mount bolts. The fuselage is in three major sections, forward, center and aft. There is a strap secured with flush mounted high sheer rivets covering the fuselage mount bolts. Each rivet has to be carefully drilled out. Each bolt is numbered starting with the top bolt being N.1 and looking forward the second bolt looking clockwise is bolt N. 2. The bolts have to be loosened in a certain order. First the torque has to be broken and the bolt turned 1/4 turn followed by each bolt in sequence. Then starting over each bolt backed off one complete turn in a certain order. You keep this up until each bolt can be removed by finger. The jig is then cranked forward, jig ring installed securing the removed fuselage section to ring and jig. Then the jig braces installed and whole assembly placed in the cradle. Once the cradle is around it you can remove that section, along with the jig and cradle from the crib.
We didn't have any jigs, cribs or cradles with us so we removed the straps with air chisels to save time. Then we used a cutting torch to cut the mount bolt heads off. We manhandled the removed sections out of the way and secured cargo straps and cable to them and had them flown out by chopper. Using lifting bags we raised the center section enough to get under to remove the lower secondary wing mount bolts. We cut a hole into the wing torque box to get to the six main wing mount bolts and removed them. We then flew out the wings by chopper.
I knew the center section was going to be a problem because it still had the engines and fuel cells installed. There was only one type of chopper that could remove that much weight and both of them were down for maintenance. We opened up the fuel drains to drain out as much fuel as possible. The number 1 and 2 fuel cells were empty but the number 3 and 4 cells were full with number 5 and 6 half full. As luck would have it a heavy lift chopper came in to remove the center section and was able to got it out.
It took us 79 hours working around the clock to get the jet taken apart and flown out. All we had to do now was clean up the crash site and get out of there. One chopper came in to pick up part of the crew. They told us the second chopper developed maintenance problems and had to return back to base. Another was on the way and would be there in 10 to 15 minutes. I put all of the crew except for me and three other members on the chopper to fly out. The four of us checked over the site and I set fire to the pit we had dug to get under the wing. It was full of JP-4 jet fuel. After 10 minutes we could hear a chopper coming in and by then we were getting small arm fire coming in on us. The chopper flew over us and fired a salvo of rockets into the jungle edge. It flew around and fired a second salvo. I thought it was our air support and the transport chopper was on the way to pick us up. When it set down about a hundred yards from us and the gunner motioned us to get on board, we started running toward the chopper. It was much smaller than the other ones we had seen. About half way to the chopper, the man to my left went down. I ran over to him and threw him over my shoulder and started running toward the chopper. Because of the blood he was loosing, I was about to loose my grip on him. I stopped, went down on one knee and adjusted the load. When I stood up, that is all I remember.
The other members of my crew said an explosion went off, maybe from a mortar round directly in front of me. It picked me up and threw me backwards about ten feet. They left the chopper and went after me and the other man. The other side gunner got out and helped them. The right gunner told them we were dead and to leave us there. He kept saying they needed to get out of there and to leave us.
When I woke up in the hospital in Thailand I had a cast on my left foot and left arm. A piece of steel hit my left leg just above the foot and cracked the bone. Another hit my left lower arm about half way up and broke the bone. Another entered my left leg above the knee and went about half way through. One entered the right leg above the knee and went all the way through. One large piece was imbedded in my flack jacket right in front of my heart. All we knew about the other person was he was sent back to a hospital somewhere in the states.
Fast forward to June, 1983. I was stationed at Spangdahlm AB Germany and was deployed to Nellis AFB, NV for a Red Flag exercise. After pounding the hot flight line for twelve hours, I went to the NCO club for a cold one before heading back to my motel off base. I was almost through with my beer when the bartender set another one down in front of me and said it was from the man setting at that table. I finished my first one, grabbed the second one and went over to the table to thank him. He asked if I rememberd him and I had to tell him that I didn't. When He told me that he was the man I went back after he was hit, I couldn't believe it. He had put on forty pounds, the thick blond hair he had was now gray around the sides and bald on top, and wore thick glasses. I found out the large piece of steel imbedded in my flack jacket had gone through his right leg, which slowed it down preventing it from going through my flack jacket and into my heart. The leg was torn up so bad they couldn't save it. A bullet had entered through the arm opening on his flack jacket and went into his left lung, just missing his heart. That was the injury that initially took him down. He was living in the Vegas area, met and married a local girl and had three children. Before we parted company, we exchanged addresses and phone numbers and agreed to stay in touch. For some reason we didn't and that was the only time I saw him.