Like most of you, I really enjoy Bones F15's stories. I even share them with my Dad and he is always grateful to be able to read them (I hope this is not a violation @Cris_Ard ).
Anyway, my Dad is a retired F4 navigator. He served from the late 60's through the late 80's and spent a year serving in Vietnam (flew 174 combat missions, was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, 10 Air Medals, the Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry, and three campaign ribbons.). After some urging by me (he honestly didn't think anyone would be interested), he wrote his Air Force memoirs for his kids/grand kids, etc. but I often share them outside the family. Happy memorial day everyone! In the spirit of this holiday I'd like to share one or two random stories from Dad. If you guys like them, I can share more. There are quite a few. He truly had an amazing career.
From Dad's Early Career (Flight Training)
The WRCS in the F-4:
The WRCS is the Weapons Release Computer System and, in the D and E models of the F-4, was in the back seat. It figured your ground speed, airspeed from the Air Data computer, your altitude, how you tracked over the ground and, with the proper numbers set into the computer by the WSO, it would release a bomb at the proper time to hit the target. It also needed the WSO to place the radar cursers over the correct target. Once set, you could then fly the aircraft, and when the computer saw the solution to hit the target, it released the bomb (it was called a radar bomb because you used the radar system to drop it, not that the bomb had radar).
I mention the WRCS because, in addition to using it for bombing, you could fly over a point and push ‘insert’ (marking the spot where you are at that moment) on the WRCS and then you could fly almost any distance away and it would give you range and steering back to that exact point. Remember, this was 1969, decades before GPS and Car Navigations systems. This was pretty gee-wiz stuff.
I volunteered to get checked out for FCF’s (Functional Check Flight), sometimes called a Test Hop. I thought it would do my career good. After major maintenance, like an engine change, an FCF crew would have to fly the aircraft and make sure it was OK. You had to check all the systems out.
So, one Saturday I was called to go fly a Test Hop with a Major Delishaw. Delishaw was a crazy son-of-a gun and was an instructor. He came to the F-4 by way of the F-104. His uncle was a three star General so Delishaw thought he could do no wrong and that rules did not apply to him. He was a fun guy and an excellent pilot, and I would later fly with him in Viet Nam. On an FCF flight you are a single ship. Flying alone and without anyone else in the flight allows you to do things without a flight leader or wingman watching. Anyhow, after we checked out the aircraft and still had plenty of fuel, he wanted to try something.
He told me he was going out over the water to find a boat, and he wanted me to push insert on the WRCS as we flew over the boat in a bay. We got down to about 100 feet or so and he picked a very small boat, like a bass boat, with one man in it. When an F-4 flies over you at a hundred feet it is deafening and the ground shakes or, in this case, water. I hit insert as we flew over him. Delashaw flew down about 10 miles past him, then turned around and headed for the boat. He got down on the deck, so to speak, to about 15 to 20 feet above the water. He pushed it up to 500 knots (about 567 miles-an-hour). I could see water spray up behind us, like a rooster tail, in my rear view mirrors. I could look out the front and see this man standing up in his boat waving like crazy as if to wave us off. I could not see the results but flying over him at 500 knots at that low an altitude may have knocked him out of the boat, at the least, or got him wet from the spray and scared the crap out of him. I thought it was not a very nice thing to do and would not have done it if I were the pilot, but I did take some perverse fun from it.
I was scared he (the man in the boat) might call the base to complain and we would be in trouble. We were the only F-4 flying that Saturday, but we luckily did not get into trouble. If caught, I just planned to say he was the pilot in command and I was just along for the ride. But since I could have refused to push Insert on the WRCS, I’m not sure that would have worked.
Vietnam - The Squadron Bar
I mentioned before that we had a Squadron bar. It was fairly nice and we were each charged a flat fee each month and everyone gave their ration card for booze to the officer in charge of the bar. He took the cards and money and bought everything for the bar at the base class six store (liquor store). Then everyone drank what he wanted at no charge. We usually gave guests free drinks also. Anyone who was part of the rescue troops, like the Jolly Green rescue pilots, or Para jumpers (the rescue men who jumped in to save your ass) could not buy a drink if they tried.
The bar was fine, but one night old Capt. Russ Jackson decided he did not like it. The bar was made from begged and borrowed material from construction companies on base. Jackson started in one corner with a hammer and knocked a hole in the wall. Others joined in and by morning the bar was completely destroyed. The roof on the ground with the walls collapsed.
Then the next day we started to rebuild it, bigger and better, by begging materials and cement. There are pictures of this in my Viet Nam scrapbook. All three squadrons had bars, all three were in a row, but now we had the best one.
One short story about rebuilding the bar. When it came time to hang a bell over the bar, someone said: “We don’t have a drill to drill a hole to hang the bell.” A guy named Kritzberg said: “I have a high-speed drill.” He pulled out a 45 automatic pistol and shot a hole though a beam above the bar. “That’s Kritzberg’s high-speed drill.” We kidded him about it the rest of the year. He also snuck a WWII German grease gun (submachine gun) into Viet Nam. He would go down to the garbage dump to shoot wild pigs. He said he did not like to go a week without killing something. It takes all kinds.
One other incident in a bar…I was across the street in the 558’s bar having a drink. They had an AK-47 strapped to the wall behind the bar. Some Army grunt, thankful for air support, had given it to their Squadron. Someone asked if the AK -47 worked. The officer who was playing bartender reached up and pulled the trigger on the weapon. Turned out it was on full automatic and he put seven rounds thru the ceiling before he could get his finger off the trigger. This shocked us all, with some diving for the floor. No one could believe it was fully loaded with the safety off. Never point a gun at anything you do not want to shoot.
Back to flying (Vietnam)
Earlier I was talking about jinking the aircraft. Sometimes you can just outsmart yourself. I was flying with a guy named Jim Finney. Years later I met him at Shaw as a full Colonel. Anyhow, Jim explained to me that he was going to keep the aircraft moving in a different direction all the time. He was never going to be predictable for a gunner. Sounded good to me. We were flying in-country in a low threat area, only small arms, and we were dropping napalm in support of troops. I thought, fine with me, play it safe, and good practice for when you are in a high-threat area.
Jim was moving it around quite a bit, always curvi-linear, not to let anyone track us. He pickled off a couple of cans of napalm and bunted at the same time for reasons that escape me. Bunting means pushing the stick forward and causing negative Gs. This is a very uncomfortable maneuver. The result was that when he released the napalm he somehow managed to fly into one of the cans and broke it over our left wing. It did not ignite. Thank goodness. We did however, have a huge mess on the wing. We then had to make a no-flap landing back home. If you put the flaps down on an F-4 it blows what is called ‘boundary layer air’ over the wing. This air comes from a bleed valve of 1,700-degree air off the engine exhaust. Blowing 1,700-degree air over napalm was not a good idea. The hot air over the wing lies to the aircraft and lets you land at a lower/safer speed. We landed no -flap and taxied in; no problem. The problem was when the crew chief saw about a half-inch of napalm covering most of the left wing--he about cried. He was going to have to figure a way to clean it up. It was thick and syrupy. I left Jim to explain how we broke a can of napalm over our own wing to the powers that be. This was an extremely rare and difficult trick, and he was probably the only one to do so in the war.
As I said, Jim was good pilot. On an earlier mission, our lead aircraft pilot, Gene Ilee, dropped the last of his bombs and went into a loop. Jim followed and dropped just behind him and then plugged in the burners. Jim was able to rejoin the leader at the top of the loop, inverted. The FAC said: “I’ve never seen that before.”
Hope you guys enjoyed.
Mark.
Anyway, my Dad is a retired F4 navigator. He served from the late 60's through the late 80's and spent a year serving in Vietnam (flew 174 combat missions, was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, 10 Air Medals, the Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry, and three campaign ribbons.). After some urging by me (he honestly didn't think anyone would be interested), he wrote his Air Force memoirs for his kids/grand kids, etc. but I often share them outside the family. Happy memorial day everyone! In the spirit of this holiday I'd like to share one or two random stories from Dad. If you guys like them, I can share more. There are quite a few. He truly had an amazing career.
From Dad's Early Career (Flight Training)
The WRCS in the F-4:
The WRCS is the Weapons Release Computer System and, in the D and E models of the F-4, was in the back seat. It figured your ground speed, airspeed from the Air Data computer, your altitude, how you tracked over the ground and, with the proper numbers set into the computer by the WSO, it would release a bomb at the proper time to hit the target. It also needed the WSO to place the radar cursers over the correct target. Once set, you could then fly the aircraft, and when the computer saw the solution to hit the target, it released the bomb (it was called a radar bomb because you used the radar system to drop it, not that the bomb had radar).
I mention the WRCS because, in addition to using it for bombing, you could fly over a point and push ‘insert’ (marking the spot where you are at that moment) on the WRCS and then you could fly almost any distance away and it would give you range and steering back to that exact point. Remember, this was 1969, decades before GPS and Car Navigations systems. This was pretty gee-wiz stuff.
I volunteered to get checked out for FCF’s (Functional Check Flight), sometimes called a Test Hop. I thought it would do my career good. After major maintenance, like an engine change, an FCF crew would have to fly the aircraft and make sure it was OK. You had to check all the systems out.
So, one Saturday I was called to go fly a Test Hop with a Major Delishaw. Delishaw was a crazy son-of-a gun and was an instructor. He came to the F-4 by way of the F-104. His uncle was a three star General so Delishaw thought he could do no wrong and that rules did not apply to him. He was a fun guy and an excellent pilot, and I would later fly with him in Viet Nam. On an FCF flight you are a single ship. Flying alone and without anyone else in the flight allows you to do things without a flight leader or wingman watching. Anyhow, after we checked out the aircraft and still had plenty of fuel, he wanted to try something.
He told me he was going out over the water to find a boat, and he wanted me to push insert on the WRCS as we flew over the boat in a bay. We got down to about 100 feet or so and he picked a very small boat, like a bass boat, with one man in it. When an F-4 flies over you at a hundred feet it is deafening and the ground shakes or, in this case, water. I hit insert as we flew over him. Delashaw flew down about 10 miles past him, then turned around and headed for the boat. He got down on the deck, so to speak, to about 15 to 20 feet above the water. He pushed it up to 500 knots (about 567 miles-an-hour). I could see water spray up behind us, like a rooster tail, in my rear view mirrors. I could look out the front and see this man standing up in his boat waving like crazy as if to wave us off. I could not see the results but flying over him at 500 knots at that low an altitude may have knocked him out of the boat, at the least, or got him wet from the spray and scared the crap out of him. I thought it was not a very nice thing to do and would not have done it if I were the pilot, but I did take some perverse fun from it.
I was scared he (the man in the boat) might call the base to complain and we would be in trouble. We were the only F-4 flying that Saturday, but we luckily did not get into trouble. If caught, I just planned to say he was the pilot in command and I was just along for the ride. But since I could have refused to push Insert on the WRCS, I’m not sure that would have worked.
Vietnam - The Squadron Bar
I mentioned before that we had a Squadron bar. It was fairly nice and we were each charged a flat fee each month and everyone gave their ration card for booze to the officer in charge of the bar. He took the cards and money and bought everything for the bar at the base class six store (liquor store). Then everyone drank what he wanted at no charge. We usually gave guests free drinks also. Anyone who was part of the rescue troops, like the Jolly Green rescue pilots, or Para jumpers (the rescue men who jumped in to save your ass) could not buy a drink if they tried.
The bar was fine, but one night old Capt. Russ Jackson decided he did not like it. The bar was made from begged and borrowed material from construction companies on base. Jackson started in one corner with a hammer and knocked a hole in the wall. Others joined in and by morning the bar was completely destroyed. The roof on the ground with the walls collapsed.
Then the next day we started to rebuild it, bigger and better, by begging materials and cement. There are pictures of this in my Viet Nam scrapbook. All three squadrons had bars, all three were in a row, but now we had the best one.
One short story about rebuilding the bar. When it came time to hang a bell over the bar, someone said: “We don’t have a drill to drill a hole to hang the bell.” A guy named Kritzberg said: “I have a high-speed drill.” He pulled out a 45 automatic pistol and shot a hole though a beam above the bar. “That’s Kritzberg’s high-speed drill.” We kidded him about it the rest of the year. He also snuck a WWII German grease gun (submachine gun) into Viet Nam. He would go down to the garbage dump to shoot wild pigs. He said he did not like to go a week without killing something. It takes all kinds.
One other incident in a bar…I was across the street in the 558’s bar having a drink. They had an AK-47 strapped to the wall behind the bar. Some Army grunt, thankful for air support, had given it to their Squadron. Someone asked if the AK -47 worked. The officer who was playing bartender reached up and pulled the trigger on the weapon. Turned out it was on full automatic and he put seven rounds thru the ceiling before he could get his finger off the trigger. This shocked us all, with some diving for the floor. No one could believe it was fully loaded with the safety off. Never point a gun at anything you do not want to shoot.
Back to flying (Vietnam)
Earlier I was talking about jinking the aircraft. Sometimes you can just outsmart yourself. I was flying with a guy named Jim Finney. Years later I met him at Shaw as a full Colonel. Anyhow, Jim explained to me that he was going to keep the aircraft moving in a different direction all the time. He was never going to be predictable for a gunner. Sounded good to me. We were flying in-country in a low threat area, only small arms, and we were dropping napalm in support of troops. I thought, fine with me, play it safe, and good practice for when you are in a high-threat area.
Jim was moving it around quite a bit, always curvi-linear, not to let anyone track us. He pickled off a couple of cans of napalm and bunted at the same time for reasons that escape me. Bunting means pushing the stick forward and causing negative Gs. This is a very uncomfortable maneuver. The result was that when he released the napalm he somehow managed to fly into one of the cans and broke it over our left wing. It did not ignite. Thank goodness. We did however, have a huge mess on the wing. We then had to make a no-flap landing back home. If you put the flaps down on an F-4 it blows what is called ‘boundary layer air’ over the wing. This air comes from a bleed valve of 1,700-degree air off the engine exhaust. Blowing 1,700-degree air over napalm was not a good idea. The hot air over the wing lies to the aircraft and lets you land at a lower/safer speed. We landed no -flap and taxied in; no problem. The problem was when the crew chief saw about a half-inch of napalm covering most of the left wing--he about cried. He was going to have to figure a way to clean it up. It was thick and syrupy. I left Jim to explain how we broke a can of napalm over our own wing to the powers that be. This was an extremely rare and difficult trick, and he was probably the only one to do so in the war.
As I said, Jim was good pilot. On an earlier mission, our lead aircraft pilot, Gene Ilee, dropped the last of his bombs and went into a loop. Jim followed and dropped just behind him and then plugged in the burners. Jim was able to rejoin the leader at the top of the loop, inverted. The FAC said: “I’ve never seen that before.”
Hope you guys enjoyed.
Mark.
Last edited:
