gatrtalz 5

Gator Tales - Page 5 - 401 - 500

Julian Baucom begins Martin-Baker approach. Photos by Rodney Rogers in another RF8, using Bay 2 camera.

THE FOLLOWING HAVE BEEN SUBMITTED BY VARIOUS F-8 DRIVERS AND/OR MAINTAINERS. NO ATTEMPT HAS BEEN MADE TO EDIT, OR EVEN ORGANIZE IN A LOGICAL FASHION.

401.
I remember that! I was on the "other" carrier, and we too pushed aircraft over the side and over the fantail, mostly UH-1's and CH-47's. Cruise book has some pictures. Not everybody was stripped of their valuables, in working refugees (searching bags, etc,) I came across several instances of gold bars carefully wrapped in tissue, also a bunch of gold leaf. All was tagged and turned over to the purser for return to the owner once patriated. We had one old lady who absolutely refused to part with her moneybelt, she was warned, cajoled, etc., but ultimately, as I recall, after the belt was searched, allowed to keep it. I know not if she still had it by the time she reached her destination. Most were bedded down in the hangar bay, well regulated, but on group was given a compartment with head, what a mistake that was! Medications were noted but often replaced rather than returned, and foodstuffs usually confiscated (except unopened cans of formula (given recent events, wonder what they contained?).

Laird Stanton

402.
Seem's someone wanted to know the LSO's, write up on the Cessna coming aboard with no tailhook, I can tell you this.
Hx,Loim,Nep,loar,dnar,nepar,fludatc,andFNHTRAKUA.
Wrong type a/c for carrier deck.

To save you the trouble of asking what that tells you here it is.
High start,Low in middle,low at the rampNot enough power,Not enough power atthe ramp,Dropped nose at the ramp,floated up the deck after the cut and f--knear hit the ramp and killed us all.
HAPPY NEW YEAR.

Ace Jewell

403.

On 15 April 1969 in VF-124 while conducting airborne instruction in advanced fighter tactics in the F-8J Crusader flying against F4's from VF-121, I had a pretty good scare. My wingman and I had gotten behind the F4's and as I was closing, felt that I was going to overrun the F4 who was making a right turn and was very close. I did a hi-g barrel roll to the left and returned to the 6 o'clock position with more room and began pulling hard in an attempt to put the pipper on him. With no warning the a/c rolled to the left in an extremely high rate of roll at high speed and low altitude. I knew I was not in a spin since my airspeed was 450 kts. I finally regained flight control by using a lot of rudder. The ailerons just were not responding. I asked the wingman to look me over and tell me what he saw. My right aileron was full down. Landing was Ok because when I raised the wing, the left aileron went to the landing position and it was much easier to fly. I was met in the line by a lot from maintenance and I was the maintenance officer. Subsequent investigation revealed that I had experienced a material failure in a critical portion of the aileron flight control mechanism. The bell crank that was attached to the aileron by a small link had broken because during high g the bell crank contacted structure inside the wing causing the stress to be transferred to the small links. After some time we finally got an engineer from LTV. His first words to me and the maintenance CPO was it was not possible for the wing and bell crank to make contact. I then asked him "did you know that in high-g flight the wings flex upward?" He replied that they did not. I asked him where did he get his engineering degree, in a box of cracker jacks! Before our encounter got heated, the maintenance CPO stopped everything and said he knew how to prove or disprove what the wing did. He got some gum and chewed it, then we went to another a/c, inspected to see if the bell crank had the same dent. It did, but the Chief placed the gum over the bell crank and asked me to fly the airplane, staying in sight, pull some g's and land. Did so and when I got to the flight line the CPO and "engineer" climbed on the wing and there was the dent in the gum. Then a service wide change was installed because all J's were similarly affected. I still have the plaque presented to me from class 03-69 with an old bell crank mounted with the infamous dent. On it was "BELL CRANK AWARD." This was because training for this class was stopped until the fix was in. If any of you from that class are out there I still have the "award" and it is with all the rest of my "I love me" wall and shelf. Some have said the F8 was kept flying with wire and gum. This is the gum part.

John Barlow

404.

My memory keeps telling me that three aircraft came off the drawing board designed for the same engine, which didn't pan out. Two were designed for two engines but only one ended up with two. These three aircraft were the "Gutless Cutless," (F7U) which kept the two engine design; the "Great Grey Whale," (F3H) which originally looked strangely like its Air Farce cousin, the F-101, and the "Ford" (F4D). Each had its good points but only the F4D left the draftsman's redesign table in a fit condition. It was eye watering in those days to see the Ford make a max-performance takeoff. The impression given by the F3H was that it was an executive office attached to a really big piece of junk. When the F7U first hit the fleet I was just finishing Pre-Flight at Mainside-Pensacola. Sherman Field was nearing completion and, while useable, had not been opened for general use. We had the Armed Forces Day air show there. One of the show features was a sonic fly-by by a F-94 out of Eglin. FAA withheld permission so that became a high speed but sub-sonic pass. Another feature of the show was presented by an F7U which, enroute to Jacksonville(?) had been deverted for the show. He had gotten airborne a while before the F-94 fly-by, did a few stunts, then cleared the area for the F-94. Yup! You guessed it! As the '94 passed the reviewing stands, the F7U passed it, BUT, inverted. That reaised the Cutless considerably in my estimate and it stayed there until I saw one burn to a crisp right next to the fire truck berm at Moffett because of a fire in the off-side burner (they could only use one because of noise abatement).

Herrick Drake

405.
Herrick Drake's comments on early jet engines in #1016 touched on some of the engine "jockeying" that went on in late '40s and into the '50s. Of the few engines and applications mentioned, the little We J34 was built like a tractor; would run on just about any fuel, and hung in there for a long career. F3D and F2H, and in aux pods on P2Vs, in some Air Force machines, and even in some X-Planes. BTW, Navy had planned to put the larger J46 in the F3D, but by the time it was thoroughly "derated" there wasn't much point.

We J40 was the engine slated for F4D, F3H, and A3D. Due to J40 delay, prototype F4D flew with Allison J35. Surprisingly, a J40 powered proto F4D set a couple speed records in late '53 -- around 750 mph, but long since forget the particulars. When the J40 program foundered and failed, the "Ford" got the great J57.

The F3H-1s were powered by the J40. Bad combination, airplane and engine. The "1s" were scrapped, and the F3H-2 ended up with the Allison J71. Heavy installed weight, and after all the "blade-trimming" mentioned elsewhere, was often affectionately called the "Converter" -- converts JP into noise. Demon could check the burner before starting takeoff roll while holding the brakes.

Demise of the J40 came just in time to save the A3D. Think the prototype flew with it, but when the J40 program was scrubbed, Navy was again fortunate to have got the J57. Must have been some politics involved for the Air Force to have ended up with the J71 in the B-66 -- but maybe it wasn't too bad for a bomber/recce.

In addition to some of its other problems, the poor F7U never had a suitable engine. The "-1" used J34s -- not enough engine, plus many probs. Then came the weird J46. Some ex-Cutlass types could confirm, but think it was a "constant rpm -- variable nozzle" or something like that. Watching the couple fleet squadrons struggle with them at Gtmo (while I was in VU-10 having at least a little fun with our F8F-2s and F9F-6s and other flying hand-me-downs) think their engines had been derated to about 4,000lb in mil, and maybe 6,000 in burner, and at the temps down there, they looked a tad sluggish.

Great strides in engines since our days -- amazing thrust-to-weight ratios, durability, fuel efficiency, and in-flight-condition monitoring, But for its time, the good old J-57s in Crusader seemed like a fine combination of power, ruggedness, flexibility, dependability, and acceptable fuel efficiency. They were getting a bit "taxed" toward the end, with all the junk hung in and on the airplane, but for the most part -- Like the Timex commercial -- Just kept on ticking.

Bill Brandel

406.
Tony Farinella passed along the following and he triggered some well remembered history:

Back around 1963/1964, over drinks at a location I will not mention, I was told someone landed a VF-174 F-8, in flames, due to an A/B fuel line break. As the story goes, after much expense on attempted repairs to the tail section, a good tail section was obtained from the Marines at Beaufort to get this F-8 back in the air. I never did learn how the Marines managed to break the nose of their Sader leaving a good tail section? Maybe one of the Marine drivers from this period could enlighten us about this? From first hand observations I have never seen a Sader's tail section survived a 'lawn dart' maneuver? Plus I have been told by Marine drivers they were too good to let this happen.

It wasn't a "lawn dart" it was p-poor management!

VMF-333 (Trip Trey) was in residence at Roosy Roads and Gitmo. Either during the missile crisis or the following year. Typical deployment, majority of the squadron at Roosy and either two or four birds on the pad at Gitmo. Roosy was the scene of gunnery and missile shooting. One of the squadron birds at Roosy (could have been one of as many as eighteen) developed a leak in the wing center section at the pivot point - right above the engine. No fix was possible at Roosy and the decision was made to get the bird back to Beaufort for repairs. If memory serves the Crusader made that transit with stops at Ramey AFB, Gitmo, Homestead, either Cecil or Jax and then to Beaufort - internal fuel only ya know.

The aircraft was delivered to Headquarters and Maintenance Squadron 32 (H&MS-32) for the work. In those days H&MS did at least a portion of if not almost all major (or intermediate) checks on the aircraft. That aircraft sat in the H&MS hangar for the longest time. Trip Trey returned from the deployment and waited months for return of the aircraft.

Eventually, on one fine and clear day, when many of us were able to spend time outside our offices, (at Beaufort, the last of the day fighters, i.e. 333 (F8Cs) and 251 (F8Bs), had the new offices and hangars on the west side facing runway 04 and there was actually grass around the offices where we could occasionally take a smoke and watch the dogfights in the cons over the base in what would become Tarheel High and Low airspace) many of us were able to watch a Crusader get started and runup at the high power engine test stand. From the offices and hangars the test stand was just across the approach end of 04.

At night the test stand could produce spectacular shows. Tuning a J57 burner produced some of the greatest diamond shock waves. This was more spectacular. With a boom, troops suddenly started vacating the aircraft and the test stand and that aircraft blew up in a massive burst of fuel and flying parts.

Sure enuf, H&MS had completely forgotten about the fuel leak, finally completed a scheduled maintenance check that had come due in the inordinate interval and had not repaired the leak. They fully fueled the aircraft and put it on the test stand with predictable results. Dumb for sure but while I hope memory serves accurately, no one was hurt. Humor did arrive shortly however.

Back to Tony's remembrance. Into Trip Trey comes this rather sheepish telephone call, "Say do you guys actually have a leftover Crusader tail? If we could have it we'd not have a Class A on our hands."

Lyle B. "Doc" Matthews, LtCol of Marines was the Skipper in those days and I've always wondered what he might have been able to put in his pocket as the 'you owe me' chit.

Wally Boeck

407.

While transitioning from ad skyraiders (vf -92) to f9f-8 cougars (va-26 1957) our air task group (atg-3 remember them) was moved from nas miramar to nas moffett field near san francisco..With about 7 or 8 hrs in type I was flying along at about 25,000 near san jose getting familiar with the area. When I happened to look down and happened to see an air force f-86, out of hamilton afb, heading south about 15,000. Feeling like john wayne I decided to make a high side gunnery pass on him. Rolled in and headed down doing about 475k kts I was just about to say rat a tat tat to myself when he turned in to me (must have seen me coming) used to the turning radius of the ad I honked it around to get the pipper on him when the aircraft pitched up nose high and sort of snapped inverted !!.

It made about one turn then rolled upright, pitched up again and started to spin..It made about two turns before I put in the standard snj spin recovery controls and came out straight level at about 10,000. That air force guy is probably still laughing !!!

I later departed an f-8 during a rag dog fight, wow..Came into the break like a little old lady for about a week !!.

Chuck Anderson

408.

OK, Mr. Drake (via Mr. Partridge), let's hear more about the inverted F7U pass. Who was that masked man? Used to be when Billy Phillips and Jack Christiansen were at BAR Dallas, on the way to NAS destinations with new Gutlesses, any air patch or event within reach was fair game for a demo. I suspect it was one of these two. When they were a pair, seeing an opposing pass, inverted, in burner, no more than 10 feet from the rudders to the runway, would warm the cockles of any observers heart.

T. R. Swartz

409.
With one flight in an F8U-2N (with a Lear AFCS), I claim the right to join your interesting reminiscing. On the subject of engines, I agree the J-57 was a major breakthrough in that era. Not bad since, to my knowledge, it was P&W's first go at their own design; the previous J-42 and J-48 were Rolls-Royce engines built under license. The J-57 did show a congenital P&W weakness for compressor design. On the A3D, if you were too enthusiastic with the throttle coming out of the chocks, you could get a few chugs of compressor stalling. The TF-30 in the F-14 had a terrible reputation for compressor stalling. The J-52, when we first flew it in the A2F (A6A), had decel stalls, but this was quickly corrected by adjusting the bleed valve schedule. With respect to the Westinghouse J-40, as I said in an earlier commentary, it was also destined for the Grumman F10F that never made it out of its initial test phase. All of its flights (32,I think) were made by Corky Meyer at Edwards AFB in 1952. Corky lives a few hundred yards from me in Ocala, FL, and tells me the J- 40 had only two main bearings, one up front and one in the back, and in between it sagged. As a result, it made the whole airplane bounce up and down until the engine got up to temperature. Those were the good old days??

Bob Smyth

410.

Wally Boeck's story on the F8 lawn dart triggered another memory. Does anyone else recall from Cecil Field days when the J-71 on a test stand broke loose when the test crew went into burner? It didn't go far because it ran out of fuel in short order. But it did run out across the ramp from high power, through a ditch with a low order boom when it hit the other side. It sure scattered the test crew. I don't recall the squadron, but I think it was VF-13 or VF-31.

One last blurb regarding the F7U Gutless Cutlass, which was rumored to have 6% of it's gross weight contained in the nose gear assembly. I remember someone who said he once had a nose gear collapse on an arrested landing, in an F7U, and it felt like somebody came up behind him and pushed him off a tall bar stool with his hands in his pockets.

Thanks for the memories.

Doug White

411.

Around 60-61 I had the pleasure of getting off the boat and compexing the "Lead Zippers" at Rota, Spain. I had a ball just being off the "FLOO DE ROO" (FDR.) CO at the time chewed ass because we did not charge through huge line of thunderbumpers to recover. Instead we diverted to Rome. He accused all of us of going to Rome for liberty. All any of us had was "Poopy" suits and only a few had any money to speak of! Same C.O. asked what manifold pressure I had when my F8 flamed out and I was picked up by Destroyer. Very late at nite he demanded that I be returned to FDR. After what I deemed to be very hazardous pickup off fantail I was returned to FDR. By this time the "Doc" on the tin can had left me with a fifth of bourbon while he got my flightsuit cleaned.(No, it was only full of saltwater). When I got back my OINC Dick Green recognized that I should not go up to Bridge as requested by FDR CO. The Flight Surgeon sent word to the Bridge the he needed me in Sick Bay where he produced several more miniature bottles of spirits which helped my recovery. I have digressed a bit. During a compex flight I observed the wing coming off an F8 during a banner run. The wing departed and floated downward as an oakleaf would. The fuselage continued into the sea. Since there was no wreckage recovered there could be no analysis. I would bet on stress corrosion as the culprit since as I observed ,overstress was not the problem. An analysis estimated that negative "G" forces at time of wing departure would have rendered the pilot incapable.

P.J. Smith

412.

Doug White's recollection of the J-71 test stand incident occurred at NAS Key West when VF-101 became the "RAG" for the F3H and the F4D. It was late afternoon when the Power plant guys were doing a test stand run on a J-71 I was in the second deck VF-101 ready room watching the show out the window. When the maint. boys stroked the burner the engine broke a jury rigged holdback ring and the engine , on it's 4 wheeled test stand took off across the ramp, heading straight for the crash shack...about 200 yds. away. The engine and stand entered the hangar still in burner and travelling at the speed of heat by now,taking out half the crash crew ready room(unoccupied at the time) and continued across the hangar into a crash truck. The impact knocked the fire truck over onto the crash chief's brand new Cadillac convertible , which he had illegally parked alongside the crash truck , setting the whole mess on fire. The crash crew manned the other firetruck and filled the Crash hanger full of foam, including the passenger section of the Cadillac (the ragtop was down). The incident was the talk of the base for days , and as I remember , it was chalked up as an "Oh well, Shit happens". Apparently, the investigating board felt that the crash chief had enough grief over the loss of his Caddy since his insurance company denied his claim since he was parked in an unautherized area! The crash crew was notorious for it's slow response to incidents requiring their services. Not so in this case. Ahhhh...those were the fun days!

John "BlackMac" McDonald

413.

Regarding PJ's post about the accident at Rota. I was on that hop. The pilot was Neil Youmans. We were shooting high altitude gunnery (tow banner at 30K, with the shooters on the perch upwards of 45-50K) and Neil had just come through the reversal and was "on the rails" making his run. I had just come off the banner and was headed back up to the perch and was looking back over my shoulder as Neil continued. I recall seeing what seemed to be a whole bunch of chaff/confetti appear about the intake area, almost immediately followed by the aircraft essentially disinegrating. As PJ noted, other than a few small peices of aircraft and most of Neil's hardhat, there was not enough of the aircraft recovered to conduct any meaningful investigation/analysis. Not long after Neil's accident, we were again doing gunnery. Jay Arnold was the Skipper, and during a gunnery run he experienced a loud explosion in the cockpit area (I'm a little fuzzy on the sequence of events here). He returned to Rota without incident and upon examing the aircraft we found that the forward gunmount/bracket on the starboard side had broken allowing the gun barrel to come free and a 20mm round had actually shot through the intake. No more guns ufn! The part was sent to Aerfer(?) (O&R kinda place in Naples), for examination/testing. Word was stress fracture due to corrosion. At that point we came to the conclusion that in all likelihood, that is what happened to Neil's aircraft.

Jack Davis

414.

Bob Powers reminiscence of about KC-130F refueling trauma reminded me of one of my own. Actually, I would just bet that Bob's incident occurred in one of those Caribbean Triangle areas where bad things just happen. VMF-333, also shooting and tanking out of Roosy Roads. Refueling track southeast of Vieques. Plugged into the tanker's left store with about 20 feet of hose back in the reel. The hose lets go and of course there erupts this horrible sine wave. Snapped the probe right off but wasn't done with it's mayhem yet. With the probe still attached to the basket and before I could get out of the way, the hose slammed the butt end of the probe into the aircraft at a spot within the probe door cavity. The probe skewered down and into the airframe (looking forward from an 11 o'clock entry point down and to the right at the 7 o'clock position). During its insertion (love that word), the probe end cut cables, wire routing and hydraulic lines and then was withdrawn by the hose never to be seen again.

I never had to deploy the RAT - the probe did that for me when it hit the deployment cable inside the aircraft. Now, of course, comes the fun part. Memory may be faulty so I won't assert how far but I was a long distance from Roosy and hadn't yet gotten any significant fuel. I did the emergency recovery profile, with the RAT out of course, back to Roosy and landed on a straight in to the southwest runway and flamed out on roll out!

Given both the Crusader and Phantom experiences, I'm glad to see that the aircraft our guys are flying today have the probe up front and visible - except of course now we have evidence that it can also get very cold when refueling goes amiss.

Wally Boeck

415.

Another tanking sea story; While going through the entire VF-124 RAG syllabus in less than 5 months in 1963 (takes at least twice that now) we were required to day and night tank. Day tanking did not cause many problems. Night was a different story. The students were averaging about one broken canopy per class. When we scheduled for night tanking, the CO took particular interest because supply was running short of spare canopies and they were a real pain to cut and fit. One of the RAG's premier instructors was assigned to brief and lead our night tanking flight. He briefed us extensively, which was unusual for him, and how not to break a canopy in particular. He added, "If you do break one, don't worry about that big ball of lead just upstream of the basket coming in and hitting you on the head, I haven't heard of it happening yet." Launch and rendezvous were routine w/frps in left echelon on the A4 and the instructor on his right wing. The first frp probed around the basket for quite some time and even w/the instructor's expert coaching, wasn't having much success. The instructor told the frp to move over to his right wing and he would show us how it was done. If you haven't guessed by now, on the instructor's first attempt he hit the basket at the 6 o'clock position, pushing it down and a little forward, at which time the basket disengaged his probe, traveled upward several feet and then came down with the ball crashing through the canopy and hitting him a healthy blow to the top of his helmet. He responded w/much forward stick and quickly descended below the tanker more than a few feet. The next thing we frps heard was a mike key and a "you guys go home and we'll try this again later" amid a loud windy background noise. Think Jim Shardy, Gene Chancey, and Flaps Andrews may have been on this flight, but it was almost 38 years ago, and CRS is a factor. Oh, I almost forgot, the instructor was none other than Tooter, and he had to explain to the Skipper that it wasn't a frp that did it this time, "It was me."

John Allen

p.s. After he broke his canopy on a night refueling mission, he entered downwind at NKX and told the tower he had a "pressurization" problem. Jim Shardy

416.

After reading all the horror stories about tanking in the F-8, I figure I sure missed all the fun. During two tours with VF-24 in the Tonkin Gulf I tanked at least once, if not twice every mission. We got so good at tanking that we could rendezvous with the teeny tankers at night, in the clouds while the A-4s were in a 30-45 deg. bank, pull power when we saw the breakaway X on our radar, and plug-in the first time. Even tanking in the pattern at night while turning downwind wasn't so bad. I don't recall anyone cracking a canopy, but then Jack Battenburg, our Maintenance Officer, could probably remember better than me.

The moral of the story - Anything can be easy, if you do it often enough.

Alan (Falcon) Peterson

417.

I can't believe the horror stories about tanking with the F8. A couple of line tours on Yankee Station and tanking for each CAP hop in the gulf near Haiphong and it was VERY routine. I do have an unsuccessful tanking story that will be a memory that I will keep. The Bon Homme Richard was sent down south for a line period. Remember those "gravy" line periods? Buz Jewel and I were launched late afternoon with clear skies, but a rough sea. It was rough enough that they decided to send the whole launch to Cam Ranh Bay. Being trained by Billy Phillips to never have more than 1500 pounds at the ramp. Buz and I did not have enough fuel to make it in comfort, but never mind, they vectored us to the duty A4 tanker and we were on our way. We joined the tanker in for the fuel. We had no navigation signals from Cam Ranh Bay. Meantime it was getting dark and the other a/c that were ahead of us reported that they had no communication with Cam Ranh Bay and that there were lighted X's on each end of the runway. I was unable to get any fuel from the tanker even after recycling the drogue. Buz was lower on fuel than I was (as it should be), but wanted to try and refuel. After one plug and no fuel, I sent the tanker to his bingo destination. I recognized the landscape and turned north toward the field. Cam Ranh Bay had Marsten matting at that time and it showed up against the white sand. I told Buz that I was going to make a straight in approach and if he wanted to try and land also instead of ejecting at sea, to get some kind of separation. About this time, an A4 reported at the 180 saying he couldn't find the other field and he was going to land. He reported an unsafe main gear indication. I am not sure whether the runway was 200 or 300 ft. wide and we did not know whether the runway had been bombed or where the A4 was. It was now dark. We touched down and I moved to the left side when I saw the A4 with the pilot standing on the wing with a cigarette lighter going. Buz moved over and we rolled out. I got parked, but Buz flamed out after he turned off at the runway, The bar was full of people. There was a notam out about the field closure, but the Bonnie Dick failed to catch it. We joined the airforce at the bar, so it wasn't all bad.

Bob Weedon

418.

One more F-8 refueling story. A good friend of mine, latter lost to AAA in 85, managed to "fence" with a A-4 drogue at night which resulted in the loss of the canopy, pitot tube and angle of attack vane. He went back to NKX and landed by himself since no one was available to fly wing and call out air speed etc. It was a normal landing, no damage to gear doors or tail. No doubt he had a real good feel for the attitude/air speed relationship. Several months earlier he had lost a canopy at 1.6 mach during a post maintenance test hop. How the face curtain stayed in is still a mystery to me.

Jerry Kuechmann

419.

I was having a grand old time in 1963-64 at Pax River, doing ordnance separation tests from the (then new) A-4E, F-8E and F-4B. At the time the U S Army did not have their own test facilities, so they relied on the Navy to help them out, and loaned them a Grumman OV-1 Mohawk. I proceeded to do all sorts of weapons testing with the Mohawk, including 40 mm cannons (bullet muzzle velocity so slow I could see them come out of the barrel), spray bar (ala crop dusters) for later use with Agent Orange - I used colored water, and , finally, air refueling. As I recall, the Army wanted to piss off the Air Force by trans-Lanting Mohawks, refueling along the way. The facts that (1)the Mohawks did not have a probe, (2) Army pilots had next to no training in formation flying, (3) there was a big, turboprop engine on each wing , which certainly could make an overrun or even a swinging basket somewhat exciting. Nevertheless, the engineering people at Pax added a fixed probe to the right hand forward fuselage for the tests. Even though the rig was temporary, and the probe was not retractable, I recall it was functional and could actually take on fuel from a tanker. I completed three or four flights with a C-130 tanker without incident , although I admit to being somewhat apprehensive when the basket got too close to my prop. The final report stated that the concept was (marginally) feasable, but not recommended for night or low visibility refueling, and not with pilots who had not gone through a formation flying syllabus. The Army dropped the idea, and I got back to Navy/Marine Corps jet airplanes.

Don Bose

420.

August 1963, first of several tropical vacations at NAS Key West hanging out on the infamous hot pad with our trusty F-8Es -- far cry from the prior winter's poopy-suit Med cruise on FDR. Many East Coast drivers from the '60s will remember the hot little quonset hut shack, grubby excuse for quarters and chow, and dollar a day group travel per diem rate. We launched with four Winders and fammo, briefed with sort of "ad lib" rules of engagement -- how you say, we'll play it by ear. Kept our skills "honed" with a few practice scrambles per day, mostly to rotate the two planes on the pad, and relieve the boredom.

Then some good news from Station Ordnance. They had a lot of 20 mm service ammo nearing end of its shelf life. Suggestion -- why not exercise the guns and the ordnance troops. At the end of a practice scramble, drive out to that old grounded APD that had been designated a target, and try to fire out the whole load. Good for the guns; good for morale. Seeing all those rounds splashing around that little ship, and the HEIs popping on the superstructure, it looked like WWII file footage from Victory at Sea and other movies.

Experimented with fairly steep farther out, to almost flat, trying to find a good angle to get the most rounds out and near the target on one run. On this no particular day, I'm running in fairly shallow; maybe about half a mile out, select Guns, and SURPRISE -- both upper Winders jettison. I had fired one in a Compex, and didn't think the noise and flame was anything much -- but two at once, unexpected, and off the top rails, did catch me unawares. Have no recollection of where they landed; unguided, no telling. Don't remember which Ripper was in the pattern with me -- maybe if he reads this, he might recall.

Culprit was a bent pin in one of the "many-pin Canon Plug" type connectors on the back of the armament panel. Pin had missed its little hole, and was grounded to the inside of the cover. Was a long time ago, but think the troops told us that the connector was disconnected and reconnected often as part of some routine maintenance chore. Several items on that panel. Those kinds of incidents were once called MIFs (Maintenance Induced Failures).

Bill Brandel

421.

In 1966 while in VMF(AW)-232 we took our F8Ds from MCAS Kaneohe, Hawaii to NAS Miramar and returned to Hawaii from El Toro with F8Es, ( my log book shows a 4.7 in BuNo 1487074 on 21 April eastbound and a 5.5 in BuNo
149186 on 25 April on westbound). On 30-31 August of '66 we flew from Kaneohe to Midway and then on to Atsugi with the F8Es, (5.0 in BuNo 149212 on the first leg and 4.0 Midway to Atsugi). Coming out of DaNang in September 1967 we waited a few days in Cubi Point for tankers (I for one fighting a loosing battle with the dubious magnetism of Olongapo) and launched for CONUS on 9 September (3.5 Cubi to Agana, 3.0 Agana to Wake, 4.8 Wake to Kaneohe in BuNo150295 arriving on 11 Sept. and departing for Miramar on 12 September in BuNo 150324 an ass numbing 5.4).

During these evolutions there were some anxious moments trying to find the 130s particularly when weather required them to be somewhere other than the planned rendezvous point and we were unable to contact them before starting down to rendezvous altitude. Communication was not always great and it made for a tricky situation since the 130s couldn't get up to our 40K plus cruise altitude. The refueling altitude was, as I recall, around 20 thousand feet. If we came down and the tankers weren't where we expected them to be we burned up a lot of fuel trying to track them down. Bingo fuel would necessitate going back, the equivalent of looking bad around the field/boat. I don't think that ever happened and we only had one abort which happened on the Wake to Kaneohe leg coming home. I think one aircraft had a probe extension problem or something of the sort.

I slept through the intricacies of the fuel system in NAMO so I can't give an engineering account of exactly what happened but we did lose one bird on a practice profile out of Kaneohe to French Frigate Shoals. Wyatt Baxter was plugged in and taking fuel when the main fuel cell ruptured and dumped a whole indigestible bunch of JP on to the engine. There ensued some colorful eruptions and Wyatt had to eject. I believe the cause was a float valve failure in the main fuel cell that allowed JP to continue to flow after the cell was full. That happened in another F8 squadron during their actual TransPac. In both instances the pilots were able to eject successfully. I'm pretty sure that the first pilot that this happened to didn't get a good chute, fell a very long way and still somehow lived. That's a great story but one about which I know almost nothing. The squadron may have been VMF(AW)-312. Anyone remember?

The F8 was the first aircraft I flew that could inflight refuel. We had F4Ds in VMF(AW)-531 in 1958-1960 but they were not fitted with a probe on the drop tank. The only ones I saw so configured belonged to VF(AW)-3 at North Island.

We did a great deal of refueling, day and night, in preparation for the TransPac and in reasonable weather conditions the F8 presented no great challenge during the procedure. The probe, when extended, was just at the very edge of peripheral vision above and to the right. The accepted procedure was to pick a reference point on the tanker, the lights on the pod seem to have been involved, and use that rather than trying to look directly at the probe. Maybe some people did but I could end up on my back if I tried to fly the probe exclusively. At night there wasn't much choice, one had to fly the tanker rather than the basket though I think there may have been a light that illuminated the extended probe.

Operating out of DaNang we used 130s and A4s when we needed to remain on station beyond our normal capability; both aircraft made good tankers but the 130 had the obvious advantage of a lot more fuel to give away and two drogues. Some of us got an assist from the A3s as well though I never had a chance to use their services. Turbulence at low altitude or in the weather could make it a real sport with any tanker. Later back home we had occasion to use KC135s equipped with a short hose and basket attached to their probe. They had great capacity, could maintain a respectable cruise airspeed and operate at our altitude.

Bruce Martin

422.
I recall one day having an IFGO wingman and scheduled for practice plugs. When assigned our drogues, I went for the GV and approached and plugged in my normal flamboyant style. I smoked a cigarette and watched the IFGO(ignorant group officer) slash and parry at the basket. He probably became frustrated knowing I had been plugged in for ten minutes and he was still rapaciously stabbing at the elusive critter. The Crusader began to yo yo and mini Jesus maneuver as the slashing became more violent until he broke off the probe which promptly punctured the main fuel cell. Now he was conning at 20M with the broken probe beating the side of the F-8. I unplugged and chased him back to base where he landed safely. The pilot will remain nameless.

Mofak (Ed Cathcart)

423.
(The following refers to a post from Bob Weeden)

Just read your Cam Ranh Bay tanking story, and couldn't help thinking I resemble the Buzz Jewell whom you mentioned as your wingman. If my logbook serves me correctly, that would have happened on the evening of November 22, 1965. As I recall, the ship steamed into a line of weather just as we were trying to come aboard, resulting in them bingoing you and I and two A-4's as well as the duty tanker. "Red Flash ?, your signal Bingo, Cam Ranh Bay, 255 degrees/84 miles". It's burned into my brain, the bearing and distance, not the side #. I remember the ship informing us of an A-4 tanker at our 12 o'clock/7 miles, whereupon the tanker driver did a 360 and ended up behind us. We then did a hard 360, picking up the tanker on radar and joining for one of the biggest let downs of my life, since at that point, I only had 350lbs. on the gauge and his Buddy Store was down.

Since I had the least fuel, you offered to let me land first (thanks!) and wouldn't you know, as I was turning through a right 90, I was nose to nose with an A-4 (the tanker) rolling through a left 90. I asked his state, and he reported 3200 lbs., I think, and since I had less than 100, told him to wave off. Last I looked, the gauge showed less than
50lbs. Thanks to the maintenance guys for burning the tanks dry and calibrating the gauges.

Was one hell of a night. I remember we drank the club dry and even got into one Air Force Captain's bottle of scotch which he was saving to celebrate completing 100 missions. I remember him and everyone else for that matter, saying,"You Navy guys are nuts!" Perhaps he was right.

I also remember the ship trying to get us to bite on an early morning Charlie time, and you not responding til later in the day; 3 PM for Charlie seemed about right. Then there was a conversation I had with the ship's Ops Officer; something about his not knowing where the hell the boat was that night.

Since Buzz and I were best friends, roommates, and hardly ever seen apart, I can forgive the mixup. I'm glad to have Buzz get some credit posthumously, but I hate it when I fall out of my own war story!

Jack Allen

426.

Bruce Martin had the story almost right.....The squadron was VMF(aw)323..June of `63. We were to TransPac El Toro to Atsugi. On the 15th Maj. Don Tookers plane blew up while refueling 600nm west of NZJ. He ejected and got a few burns and was rescued by a destroyer. He tells the tale that when the tin can saw him in his little yellow raft they hailed him over the megaphone with.....get this....."Do you require assistance" The next day, the 16th, while refueling on the second try of Operation Green Wave, my plane also blew up, only I couldn't eject..the seat wouldn't fire and the canopy wouldn't blow. I opened the canopy manually and went over the side, hitting the refueling probe door. The `chute streamed but didn't open. I broke 16 bones, collapsed a lung and had a renal shut down(kidneys quit working for a day or two), and knocked 3 fillings out of my teeth. The raft was lost, I had the Mk.3c. 3 hours in the Pacific and a mine sweeper picked me up. Other than that, it was a typical Marine Corps day.

Cliff Judkins

427.

The stories about IFR in the F-8 brought back an interesting remembrance, I'm pretty sure, of the last IFR training flight in VF-174 before it was disestablished and became VA-174.

I was an IP in 174, at the time, along with Jim Matheny, Ron Knott, Red Best, Bo Stanley, John Nichols, George Talken, Bobby Lee, Pete Easterling and others. I got checked out in the station T-1A, mainly to fly my plane captains of the quarter, but it proved to be an assist to the squadron as we began to lose are F-8s. Anyway, as the draw down in F-8s progressed prior to the East Coast F-8 RAGs demise, we were transferring our F-8s West and to NARF so fast that it was difficult to complete our few remaining RPs. So, I think it was Jim Matheny and I who chased a few F-8 RPs on the last IFR training flight -- in a "T-1A"!! With two IPs in the T-1A the RPs got more advise from the T-1A bound IPs than they probably wanted. As my memory serves me, I think we did the flight as a "pinky" so we could get the day quals before the sun went down and the night plugs after (we had to max our training with the few assets remaining). I wish we had had a RF-8 with us to take a picture of that flight.

Darryl Stubbw

428.

My favorite tanking memory: while flying out of Beaufort I was flight leader of a four plane destined for night tanker training. As fate had it, there was only one aircraft "up" and that was mine. I found the tanker and enquired regarding available fuel (we were planned for a nominal 1500lbs. each.)

The GV told me I could have the 6,000lbs planned for my flight, plus an F-4 flight out of Cheerless Point had canced leaving an additional 12,000 lbs they could give away. I plugged and took on what I could hold. Is there anything sweeter than to be in an F-8 at 20,000' with a full bag of fuel?

(Unplugging was an opportunity to be a gentleman - just as a gentleman does not make a sudden or precipitous move when disengaging from making love, the gentlemanly F-8 pilot would disconnect from the GV gently and thoughtfully: crack off the tiniest fraction of power, slowly unreel the hose to the end - hang for a moment, then disengage - the smallest of yaw from the GV, a fluttering of hose, and one is flying free.)

With my full bag of fuel I did lazy S turns, drifting back behind the tanker and climbing - much as a shark swims in gentle and supremely confident S turns while looking for something to eat.

When about 10 miles from the tanker I nosed her over and lit the burner - reported to the tanker that I would be exiting the fueling area off his port side momentarily. By the time I passed the tanker I was smoking - pulled the nose up (don't remember to just what, but closer to 90 degrees than zero) and was rewarded by the tanker driver letting me know that I was "looking good."

Being night and all and just me there was not a lot to do - I returned to NBC to do some GCAs - each concluding with a burner wave off. I did a number of them, and as my fuel dwindled, I called the tanker on a hunch. He was still on station and told me I could have another load of fuel - which I took on, returning once again to NBC for an hour or so of GCAs and burner goes - total fuel profligacy.

I wrapped up my evening around midnight having burned up 26,000 lbs of JP5 on one hop.

At that time, the station required that there be a Runway Duty Officer until all aircraft were recovered. Normally the last flight would be recovered by 9PM or so - I was doubly rewarded for my evening of gluttonous fuel consumption when I discovered that the RDO was none other than my roommate Raynor Reavis who was then courting the charming Becky (who was to become his life partner). That particular evening Raynor's pursuit of the fairer sex was displaced by his duty to sit alone in the RDO shack watching a sole F-8 go around and around the pattern, burning thousands of pounds of fuel for hour after endless hour.

How sweet it was.
John Doherty

429.

Well let me tell you how it was on the boat (Bonnie DIck) -- when Bob Weedon and his flight (bingoed to Cam Ran Bay), we in the squadron breathed a sigh of relief, and I as the C.O. signaled to the ready room movie operator: start the movie, the night recovery is over and our boys are SAFELY headed for the beach !! I t was a good movie and we all went to bed thereafter -- BUT , WOW, the next day , when we heard what happened -- Final thought, I tried to get Bob Weedon submitted for a DFC but had no luck because it was not combat related, but in my mind What they went through easily exceeded some of the things I observed that did qualify for such an award -- BUT I dont want to get into an award battle or discussion.

As for whether it was Buz Jewell or Jack Allen on that particular flight, I just can't recall, but I would like to pass on a few words about both of these fighter pilots which are of some interest because F-8 fighter pilots are a rare breed in my opinion and both of them exemplify same in somewhat different characterics in that timeframe (circa summer and fall of 1965)

FIRST LET ME TALK ABOUT JACK ALLEN: Jack was in the "Mutha Squadron" in early 1964 when I was there to go on to Fighting 194. My only remembrance then was that he had difficulty with CARQUAL,especially at night as did most all of the first tour guys but he made it (Herb Poorman--RAG C.O.) basically commented that was fairly normally, and dont worry about it! "To me from Pri-Fly they all seemed like horribly controlled crashes" -- Later when I became C.O. of the "Mutha Squadron" in 1967, I fully appreciated Herb Poorman's remarks. Jack came to our squadron in late 1964 -- he was a typical first tour pilot and did o.k. except for one area -- he had a tremendously foul mouth -- as the years went by I attributed this to the signs of the time and what I call the tubulent ' 60s -- BUT, let me finish, in 1965, we ended up in a position where we were flying because of certain shortes 50 to 60 to 70 hours a month with day and night ops -- the guys were obviously getting tired -- when you see black circles under guys around 25 years old, you know it's tough, particularly if you are a relative newcomer only lacking in experience. My point is in this environment, Jack Allen behaved and acted in a manner that was indeed a credit to the F-8 Crusader Community-- except for his foul mouth(!) which I sincerely believe with his follow on Airline experience and mellowed maturity has long ago become a thing of the past. Jack, if you read this I'd sure like to hear from at my e-mail red1flash@aol.com

NOW FOR BUZ JEWELL -- He came to our squadron as a completely finished and competent pilot-- he had been flying since his early teens, and he easily had the ability of a fleet pilot about to start his second tour - WITH ONE SAD DRAWBACK -- he knew he had that ability -- he did not flaunt it, but he also exhibited actions that made us realize: "If we can just keep this guy alive, he may become the ace of the base " (I'm sure this sounds familiar to all of you guys who went through the cycle from nugget pilot to C.O.) Well we did keep him alive amidst many adventuresome occasions which are not worth repeating, and he left the active Navy, but went to the Reserves flying A-4s. While I was C.O. of Fighting 124 in 1967, he came down from the Reserve A-4 squadron with orders to us to get 3 FAM hops with us in the F-8 because the Reserves were about to get F-8s maybe. I called Buz in and informed him that he would get the three hops, but that he would have a VF-124 I.P. chase him on all three hops. He obviously didn't need a chase pilot because of his ability, and he responded : " Gee whiz, Skipper, a guy does grow up you know" . Unfortunately, he went back to his squadron with A-4s and creamed himself at Crowe"s trying to do a touch and go and then bounce up into a slow roll to another landing !! What a shame, because he had such outstanding aeronautical talent -- BUT, he never quite grew up.

If I have misrepresented either one of these, -please let me know because each had fantastic talents.

NEW SUBJECT: A Few Weeks Or Months Back there was quite a bit of discussion on AUTOMATIC CARRIER LANDINGS and AUTO- THROTTLE with The F-8 and F-4 -- also, the TWOSADER (F-8U-1T) and what it did -- As, unfortunately, I am the only living F-8 pilot who landed the CRUSADER aboard ship in the ACL mode and also the only living one who landed the TWOSADER aboard ship, when I get a chance in the near future, I'll relate my experiences about same -- a lot was said, and most of it was fairly correct, but I'll try and give you a run down on how it all went from my aspect in NATC FLIGHT TEST (CARRIER SUITABILITY) 1963-1964 -- They were both fascinating Programs and I shall be happy to share them with you as best I can.

Bob Chew

430.

Jack can probably tell this better but, with apologies to him, here goes. It was Jack who gave Billy Phillips a foul deck wave off but he didn't cut him out -- CAG did it to himself. Tico recovered F-8s ahead of the A-4s. Jack was the last F-8 in the pattern and CAG brought his flight of A-4's into the break a little too tight on Jack. When he realized it wasn't going to work, he came up on the radio in his unmistakable stage voice thusly: "F-8 in the groove, you're long (he wasn't), wave it off!" Jack was coming through the "45" and made his ball-call something like this: "Redflash 402, ball, 1.6 manual, bite my ass!" CAG's immediate reply was: "I will, when I get on deck!"

Jack got sent to Cubi for the duration for his impetuosity (I think we were in the middle of our third of four line periods) Bill Conklin, Jack's skipper, pleaded with CAG to let jack come out and finish out the cruise on the ship. CAG relented but as word was on its way in, Jack was "test flying" a beach det bird. He got put on report by the tower for rolling inverted after takeoff and climbing out upside down. As I remember, Jack spent the rest of the cruise in Cubi. Anyway, after 35 years that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Jack and the Buzzard cut a pretty wide swath on that cruise and a small book could be written about their adventures. Us first cruise pukes were pretty much in awe of them.

Bob Harrison, VFP-63

431.

It has been noted that VF-124 had to really pump guys thru in the late 60's. I guess one thing that had to be glossed over was tanking; we got at least a couple nuggets who had never done it, and believe they joined us while embarked aboard ship. That was the first thing on their sked. Was no sweat to learn to plug, with their Fightertown training in flying The Machine.

When our RAG class was in that phase, a "low altitude" set of plugs was in the syllabus. Couldn't figure out what would be so special about low alt, but found out real quick..... summer air over the Okefinokee Swamp is pretty bumpy down low, and that basket behind a Tink moves around pretty good. On one I timed the basket swing/throttle push poorly - the basket went down the intake. Visions of all kinds of things flashed thru my mind, like having a chance to get acquainted with some alligators, but nothing much happened. The old J-57 made a Ross Perot noise -- a giant sucking sound -- lost some thrust, the airplane slowed down, basket came out, & everybody lived happily ever after.

Dave Johnson

432.

Following the Tooker/Judkins accidents we brought a USMC KC-130 to LTV. Hooked it up to an full up F8 fuel system mock-up. Ran tests for a week and could not replicate failure. On last day it was decided to run one more test. Fortunately, on this run all fuel shutoff valves closed simultaneously and the system ruptured from excess pressure from KC-130. KC-130 refueling systems were changed to use lower pressures for fighters and no more accidents occurred.

P.J. Smith

433.

I have one Billy Phillips story that I would love to hear some comments on. Somewhere around 67 or 68, Billy, a Captain at the time, had some type of ground job at NAS Cecil Field. He would occasionally come over to VF-62 to borrow a Crusader. I went with him a time or two, and don't recall any spectacular incidents. The point is, he did recognize me as a young Crusader pilot at the O'Club.

There was some type of party, maybe a change of command, involving his old hell-raising buddy Capt Jack Christianson (is that right?) Anyway, as the evening dragged on, he (Billy) and I were basically the last two drunks standing at the bar. Now the tale he told that I would love to hear some comments on.

He said that he dreamed up the idea of "masquerading" a flight of F-8s as F-105s to sucker in a bunch of MiGs and kick ass. Said he flew to an AFB (Thailand) to get permission, as he would have to launch the F8s out of a 105 Base in order to pull it off. You know the outcome of the tale, of course. The AF refused permission and pulled it off themselves, with Robin Olds and company bagging somewhere around a half-dozen MiGs.

Now this was a few years ago, and we were both drunk, but that's the way I remember it. Anyone have any first hand knowledge?

John Allsup

434.

I first flew the Crusader in 1957 in VX-3. We were in Atlantic City and moved to Oceana a year later. In those two years I got about 350 hours in the bird. In 1959 I got my orders as CO of VF-32, the first Airlant squadron to have them. Regardless of the time I had with day and night carqual, I still had to go through the RAG squadron, which was VF-174. Prior to my arrival there, LT Billy Phillips, the self-confessed hottest fighter pilot that ever crawled out of a cockpit, had recently arrived from VF-32. Wouldn't you Know it? Billy became my flight instructor. And he kind of resented me. He would regale the whole flight with sea stories anout how tough it was in the fleet, the hairy situations the pilots get into, etc. Since I was a LCDR he wasn't able to intimidate me much, but he sure made an impression on the nuggets. Part of the syllabus included going to GITMO for gunnery. Well, on the first flight out I shot 45 percent, and Billy only had 10 percent. Billy couldn't believe it. He checked out the bullet colors three times. Of course that made me feel a little smug. So there! When we went out to carqual I remember Billy standing by the Catapult Officer with his forefingers and thumbs pointed together making the sign of the pussy cat at me. When I got to the Med aboard Saratoga, I found out a story about Billy that I hadn't heard before. There had been a deck crash with Billy and Howie Rutledge on his wing. The were told to dog it while they got an AD tanker in the air. Well, what do you know. Billy couldn't get plugged in, He made stab after stab. Finally, Howie decided he wasn't going to get his turn, so he got back to the boat just as the deck cleared. Now for some reason I can't remember whether Billy got back to the boat or if he bailed out. Maybe someone who was there can fill me in. Incidentally, Jack Christiansen became the skipper during that Med cruise

Zee Loftin

435.

As the LSO for VF-191, I had the duty the day of the incident involving Jack Allen and Billy Phillips. I can attest to the accuracy of Bob Harrison's account of the events. My response to Jack's call of the ball was, "Roger ball, good pattern, I concur." My comments in the LSO book reflected the events as well. Jack got an "OK 3, good pattern". Billy's got, "Improper interval, go around, (OK), (EGIC), 2 on 2nd pass." Jack was only banished to Cubi for the duration of that at-sea period. Frankly, the rest of the JO's were envious. He was Bre'r Rabbitt in the Briar Patch.

Willie (Super Blue) Sharp

436.

I always liked Billy, despite the fact that he screwed me over just as he did many others. While Billy was CRAW 4 at Cecil I was C.O. VFP-62. He wanted some photos of the various type RAG squadron aircraft; so, he summoned reps from Oceana and Key West for a family airplane portrait.

With a load of color film I chased the formation around the area and snapped various set-ups. After covering a variety of formations, I joined each of the types idividually for shots, lastly with Billy flying the Phantom. Clicking off several frames, I noticed that Billy had initiated a gentle climb, and I stayed abeam, adding power but concentrating on keeping the F4 centered in the bull's-eye viewfinder. Suddenly the stick got real sloppy, and a quick scan showed zero airspeed. He had suckered me into a vertical climb! With a little rudder help the Crusader's nose fell through and made an uneventful return to Cecil.

But there is more. The real slam followed. Photo pilots believe (correctly) that if you take enough shots there often will be a gem among them. Such was the case that day when one frame captured the echelon over the black background of the St. Johns River in downtown Jax. The sharp, well-exposed negative contained all the principal Jax sites (Gator Bowl, ACL Building, Gulf Life Building and several bridges) as well as a very snug formation of six planes. Pleased with the lucky shot, I sent the negative to the Naval Photo Center in D.C. for maximum enlargement. (At that time only NPC and National Geographic had the capability to print one-piece color images five-feet high.) Anyway, the beautiful product was shipped back and donated to the O'club (ORF) where it was proudly displayed. Soon I went west, but on a visit to Cecil some time later I stopped by the Club and found that a silver nameplate had been added to the frame at the botton of the picture. It read "Courtesy of Billy Phillips". The swine!

Mo Hayes

437.

Another way the F8 could bring one to grief had to do with the hydraulic lines in the tail section of the aircraft. If a fire developed in that area, something that happened with some regularity in combat, there was a chance that those lines would burn through causing the UHT to fail and the aircraft to go full nose down. This action would throw the pilot up against the canopy where he could reach neither the face curtain or the firing handle on the seat pan. One of my former students (name eludes me at this moment) was killed that way in an RF8. To counter this the procedure we used, with a fire warning light and the aircraft was otherwise flyable, was to keep a tight grip with one hand on the alternate firing handle. If the fire caused the UHT to fail down the upward force on the pilot would fire the seat. I had that scenario in July 1967 in Vietnam. After being hit by ground fire some miles inland from the coast. I got an immediate fire warning light (and just about every other bad news light on the ladder) but was disinclined to get out in an area that was loaded with people who wished me ill. I stayed with the aircraft, hand on the seat D ring until I got out over the water. When matters subsequently became unmanageable I ejected using the face curtain. On the descent I did just about everything wrong one can do including releasing my parachute before hitting the water. I didn't fall very far but the several seconds between release and contact with the water seemed a very long time. An accommodating USAF "Jolly Green" spared me from more catastrophes in the life raft.

Bruce Martin

438.

As for flying, Jack Snyder once confessed Billy was the best he had ever come across, even (gasp)beating him on occasion. I once jumped on the tail of a Red Lightning in a multiple plane flail hoping for an easy victory. My victim seemed to stop in mid-air, pivot about an impossible point, and drop easily on my 6. I didn't have to wait till we got back to the ship to know I had unwisley picked on Billy.

Bill Storey

439.

I was fortunate to have been a Legendary Red Lightning in an era that spanned the time Billy Phillips was XO//CO. He stretched every corner of the envelope, to be sure. He wrinkled relationships with lots of non-fleet-operational personnel who he perceived to hamper the high efficiency of fighter squadrons. His personality and manners were excellent when he wanted that effect. His philosophy in those days before the war was to work hard and play hard. He did.

Billy joined VF-91 shortly after the 1963 Ranger deployment began. He was XO to Chuck Deasy, who was equally or more "colorful" than Billy. He was a loyal XO and did not grandstand or usurp the Skipper in any way. He took over the squadron near the end of the cruise and brought it home for a six month turn around in which we went from day VFR on the big deck to night all weather on the little deck of Bonnie Dick and we still had F-8Cs with no radar altimeter. I know you fly where your told and you don’t bitch, but this was an exciting transition for guys who enjoyed starting the ready room movie at sundown. We became VF-194.

In those six month we flew three gunnery deployments and consistent night FCLP and carquals. It was intense for a peace time turn around. Meanwhile, we had to literally build our ready room on Bonnie Dick and we had no line shack. Billy got that from Bravo funds and a leather jacket for the R Division Officer.

The reason for three gun deployments was that we got kicked out of Yuma for flashy section takeoffs and fan breaks. Billy critiqued all of them and always insisted on improvement. Morale and esprit increased when we left Yuma. We re-deployed to El Centro where there had been no jet gun deployments in years. We had to make do and again, morale went up.

We departed our Fallon gun deployment with a simultaneous 13 plane burner takeoff. That was Billy’s way. It wasn’t hairy if you followed instructions. To follow that, we flew IFR to Miramar in a 13 plane right echelon. Looking back, these episodes are what enabled the high esprit de corps that squadron enjoyed.

No one beat the Red Lightnings in gunnery in those days and this spanned back to Clancy Rich and Mac Snowden where those two Es started. A great man named Gene West had the process down on maintaining F-8 gun and sight alignment and that was passed down to Chief Papani and Ray Gillette. We had one 30,000 foot banner with 98 hits and it was shot with two passes, four planes under Compex rules. Billy was not one of the gunners. Billy maintained the professionalism but he maintained the color too.

We came in second in the E that year losing to Jack Snyder’s VF-191 who we joined on Bonnie Dick. They had a long turn around, F-8Es and they were pros too. We competed vigorously but we cooperated, as well. Sam Flynn was the maintenance officer and during our Admat Inspection we had all our old charlies clean as new, including between the ventral fins. Every down lock had a flag cabled to it. Every PC Hyd cover plate was installed with cable. This was not a shabby operation and Billy Phillips was a principal reason things were that way.

Billy took us to Westpac and did not leave until the cruise was almost over. We went to the Indian Ocean and operated with no bingo fields. All of the officers who left on that cruise returned, a damn good Crusader safety record.

Dennis Duffy, who was also mentioned in one of the slurs against Billy, came to us when all the other junior officers had already been accustomed to Deasy and Phillips. Billy ran Dennis fairly hard. Some of it was not too much fun for Dennis. Nevertheless, after his accident (after Billy) he came back to the fleet and made an outstanding accounting of himself. He would have had a MIG with guns if the damn switches that split uppers and lowers had been wired correctly. Some of Dennis’ professional formation occurred under Billy Phillips.

Billy made CAG, Captain and deep draft command. He also got deeper into the booze and this changed his personality. The Admiral he was under for his last six months in active service asked him to spend that time at the Betty Ford Alcohol Treatment Center on Terminal Island, CA. He did and he completely reformed.

Billy returned to Miramar around 1989 to a Red Lightning reunion held in conjunction with one of the Last Annual Balls. He was the master of ceremonies of the event and a better toastmaster never happened. I was so fascinated that I went to visit him in Punta Gorda, FL where he lived near Clancy Rich. Billy was the cashier of a 19th hole pro shop on one of the golf courses. I had to visit between people coming to reserve tee times. I never thought I would ever live to see Billy in such a position. I also observed that he was happy and charming and all the golfers loved him. He was interacting joyfully and I was proud of him. Later he moved to Tennessee and I lost contact with him.

HUD’N HUD’N,
Al Lansdowne

440.

I was Ops officer for Billy and while we set up a system to always check his G meter in the wheel well when he came back. The "facts and figures" didn't always have basis, he taught all of us how to get the most out of our planes. He taught us to utilize out time in the air to become better fighter pilots. He taught us to steal gas in the air anytime we could, but to use it up before we crossed the ramp. Many of the things that he taught me followed me, not only through my flight career, but did and still influences my life.

Bob Weedon

441.

Reading the tanker stories caused me to remember an F-8 transpac tanking evolution that took place out of NAS Whidbey in the summer of 1966. I was a new nugget pilot in Heavy Ten just out of RAG training and one of only three pilots left in the home squadron after Det-42 departed for West Pac. The call came out to provide tanking support for the transpac of four F-8s from Whidbey to Barbers Pt. Why Whidbey? Because that was where the Whale Tankers were. Because of the large number of tankers required, all the Whidbey KA3 assets were drawn from to provide the 16-18 tankers needed to get all the fuel necessary for the enroute refueling gaggle. There was an early morning brief to coordinate the some 22 aircraft involved. As in most of these evolutions you had the "Go Birds", which were the F-8s and two pathfinder A-3s. The reason for two was to afford emergency tanking toward the end of the flight. All the go birds were to be topped off after initial rendezvous overhead as well as two sets of mid route tankers, after which six tankers plus a spare would return to Whidbey. Eight tankers plus another spare were to then accompany the Go Birds out to the second tanking about an hour later, after which five of those would continue outbound about another hour to the third and hopefully, final tanking. At that time the four remaining tankers would return to Whidbey after topping off the Go Birds prior to the point of no return. This allowed plenty of fuel in the pathfinders for emergency tanking should it be required. On the launch day the weather was typical for Whidbey, 1000 ft overcast with layers forecast to FL 300. I believe the F-8s launched and formed two sections prior to going popeye, and the Whales followed as fast as Departure could handle them, about 30 sec intervals. You can imagine the chatter on the two departure freqs and then even worse as we all went over to Seattle Center. Because of the solid goo nobody had anybody in sight except when a couple would break our between layers causing more chatter then back into the white stuff. The FL300 altitude came and went with no tops. Finally at FL370 the first planes started popping out on top and set up a rendezvous circle. As all the birds were heavy and just about their service ceiling, max bank was limited to about 10 degrees and we all had indicated speeds less than 240kts. This caused the circle to spread out to about 20 miles in diameter and would just skim the ragged tops. As each plane broke out they would ask center for a vector to the gaggle and all the chatter became almost unbearable. After a couple of trips around the circle it was obvious that we weren't going to get half the planes together. Lead called an abort to the Circus and told Center to take us all back to Whidbey. I thought that the guys at Center would just bust and tell us to go screw ourselves but after a few moments of silence took charge and started to pass out freqs and headings to everyone. Now all the Whales were dumping gas as they descended and when you broke out between layers you saw planes everywhere! All this had to be handed over to Approach with GCAs for everyone. Can you believe we got everyone back on the ground without an incident? Amazing! Can't remember how the F-8s finally made the trip as for some forgotten reason I did not take part in the later go. I think they decided to go to Alameda as it is 200 miles closer and the weather better. Its a wonder that we survived some of the things we did back then, but as the Man said, not all of us did. Now they would just give you a KC-10 and send you on your way.

Phil Middleton via Nick Nickerson

442.

We had just returned from the 66 cruise on the hannah. We were basically on the same cruise cycle as the ranger, so we returned to alameda for the standard repairs which as you know take a minimum of four months in the yard. All of a sudden the ranger pulls up the stakes and cruises back out under the bridge with just a minimum of aircraft on the deck just a couple of days after coming in. I am watching this as I had the duty. Question? What the hell is going on? About three weeks later she comes back in and assumes the position. Come friday night at the club I run into an old friend, assistant navigator on the ranger, and of course ask what was going on. His reply was "i don't know, for they did not let me know at any time, where we were, but we did cross the equator, for we had the standard shellback shit. Food for thought. It was not two weeks later I ran into "dad" erie, my initial lso instructor, and I believe cag 9 lso, or with one of the squadrons as lso, and I posed the same question. Different answer. They had crossed the equator with no flight ops so far and the signal blows calling to stand by to recover aircraft, which seemed bizarre, as none had been lauched. Dad had the duty and went to the platform and looks up and low and behold in the groove is a u-2. Ok 3 wire, with the bosuns running out with the wingtip gear so it did not fall over. Launch the next morn and recover later in the day for about a week. Then back to hunters point for retro. Nothing said to anyone, for obviously under ts orders. The closest thing I can put to it is the u-2 boys were either seeing if was feasable, which it was on a large deck, or they were trying to find the "shining path" and che guevarra, which they did a year later. Ace was a part of the lso action as well. Beats hell out me, but ranks right up there with the c-130 traps on the forrestal in 63!!!
Johnny, did you go out on that as fighter escort. Something in the back of my mind, which is getting smaller, says that they took a det of vf-24 with them. Please let me know.

Scotty Wilkes

443.

I had forwarded the narrative concerning the SonTay raid to my old Skipper from Heavy 8, Frank Haak, who was Captain of the Oriskany during the Raid. Below is his reply:

Dear Nick,

Many thanks for forwarding the USAF A-1 pilot's narrative. I sent it on the some of Oriskany guys who sweated out the carrier ops with me. Think you may enjoy reading what I told them.

Best regards, Frank

Just received this from Nick Nickerson, a Whale driver shipmate and good friend from VAH-8. No doubt the subject will bring back strong memories.

This elephant is tough to desribe. Here's the picture of the world as seen by USAF Spad drivers. Benjamin Schlemmer told much of the story in his book, THE RAID, but very little was ever written about the TF-77 diversionary night strikes launched by ORISKANY, HANCOCK AND RANGER in the worst possible weather conditions for carrier airops: Heavy seas were running in a direction sixty degrees away from the high winds, causing the flight deck to roll and pitch in the black of night in a most unfriendly manner. But launch 'em we did, twice!

Doug Mow and the CVW-19 pilots in SEALORD's two strike packages flew up to Hanoi and back with one hand tied behind their backs in aircraft armed only with flares. Many of RANGER's birds and all of HANCOCK's recovered at DaNang, but all our birds got home safely. At least one of our tankers refueled RANGER's aircraft before landing back aboard. No doubt you will recall that our senior CAG LSO earned a set of stomach ulcers during his outstanding performance in two extremely slow and tedious night recoveries. We gave him the ORISKANY EAGLE award.

My thanks to each of you for your superb service. Hope you're all happy and well.

Best regards, Valdez
Via Nick Nicerson

444.

In late 1981, my friend and former Navel Aviator, Charlie Reed, and l took a trip to Pensacola for the purpose of doing research for a book that we were going to co-author about our experiences in flight training and in the fleet. Sadly, we were not able to carry through on our plans before Charlie passed away, but we had a great visit and the seeds were sown for what l hope will be a completed project someday. Nonetheless, as we were winding up our stay in PNS, we were driving back to New Orleans and decided to see if we could locate OLF Silverhill field, where we had both soloed some eight years apart. We knew of the general location, but had to search for it. After an hour or so, we finally went up to a farm house on the main road, and inquired if they had ever heard of it.

It happens that the man who opened the door knew exactly where we were talking about, and volunteered to show us personally. We drove through several fields of crops until we came upon our target. The old runway was still there, albeit with grass and weeds growing up through the asphalt. The man left us alone there to look, listen, smell, and reminisce. We stayed there for over an hour just soaking in the atmosphere. As we were leaving, something caught my eye. There were puffy clouds that day, and as the sunlight moved over the field, a flash of orange showed briefly at the base of the old windsock pole. The pole was at about a 45 degree angle and pretty rusty, with just the frame where the fabric used to be. As l walked up to it, the flash of color turned out to be a piece of the original fabric that had rotted, and fallen from the frame above. I gently brushed away the sandy soil, and was able to recover a fairly good size piece of it. In my mind, l knew that l would do something special with it one day.

In December 1981, l was flying a Delta 727 on a RedEye midnight flight from SFO to DFW, when an inner voice said "Grab a pencil, Bob, cause there is something that needs to be written down." In about 10 minutes, without pausing, the result was SILVERHILL.

I was to attend my friend, Charlie's birthday party in Savannah in January 1982, so l typed it up and gave it to him. It remained in that form, until after Charlie's death. Upon the 50th anniversary of Naval Aviation, l decided to present it to the Naval Aviation Museum. I had the poem copied in calligraphy on parchment, mounted it in a frame which also included a piece of the windsock, a picture of the old windsock at NAS Corry Field, a commemorative brass plaque, and a pair of gold Navy Wings. It remains in the custody of the museum, and was just recently put on display outside the library at the museum for the week of the official retirement ceremonies for the A-4 a few weeks ago.

l am sending it to you, as l think you might be able to identify with the feelings l had.

I would appreciate your reactions.

Regards,
Bob Cathcart
-----------------------
SILVERHILL For Charlie......... For Me

I am from another day, long ago. In my weather worn fabric are memories of a time when courage and skill still stood for something on this Earth. Blue skies, the roar of engines, the smell of burnt rubber, the sweet smelling mixture of new mown clover and Avgas... . LSO's shouting their instructions at young men who had The Right Stuff flowing through their veins. Some were better than others, but all were special. Through those vital years, l watched as each faced his own personal moment of truth. l could feel their rush of adrenaline and pride as, one by one, they flew that first solo under my watchful gaze..... l wonder if they knew this once-bright orange piece of material was cheering them on, weeping when any one of them met their end in this remote piece of Alabama real estate. Probably not.

Then one day, they came no more. ... Days, weeks, months passed. l strained my senses to hear or feel the slightest familiar noise....but....nothing.

445.

I had the YF8 Flight Test Project, in 1957, when Lynn Helms, the other Marine in the office, left for NAA, GAMA, and Piper, followed by head of the FAA. I was his asst. up to that time. One day I was out on a test flight in our first a/c in flight test with full telemetering. After the flight I fought against Maj Roy Gray, who was up in the Service Test F8. On opposite sides of the circle , under hi g, my ox mask (the kind that snapped on only to the side of the helmet) unsnapped. I rolled in a fist full of longitudinal trim to hold my hi g turn and attempted to snap the mask back on. Was about 28000 feet. When I got it back on I noted Roy had gained on me, so without thinking how much g I had cranked in, I yanked the stick back to what should have been max g. I overshot, got a pitch up, went into a violent spin,
(all this before a spin technique was developed) , and tried the full back stick, pro aileron, etc etc. No luck,and getting worse. Roy said bail out!!

Finally at 12,000 the ride /pitch/roll seemed to be a little less so in one of the nose down pitching moments I slammed full stick forward, it dropped to the 190 deg nose down, and I recovered at 6000. Told Roy I would talk to him on the deck and didnt want to tell anyone. When I returned to the Flight Test line, several engineers came out. They had been in the TM van, and watched all the TM inputs. Wow, caught with my red face. Turned out, in wind tunnel later tests that one only managed to recover in 1 out of 3 attempts, without blowing droop, etc. The TMdata helped LTV to develop the correct spin procedures. They said I did 11-12 turns, loss of 22,000 feet, violent ride, high yaw and pitch rates etc. I didnt have to be told--I was there. I went to two early Marine squadrons, did extensive ACM, but never had such a divergence again.

Hal Vincent

446.

I just found this page and although I am not a naval aviator I fell in love with Crusaders when I was around 13 years old (1965). We were at our house in Stone Harbor NJ and my Mother was hoisting the flag and at that moment an F-8 (flying pretty low as I could make out his oxygen hose) circled our house and gave a salute. Now I'll flash forward to the date July,17 1972. I was a sailor on the USS Warrington DD843 off the coast of Dong-Hoi Vietnam on operation Linebacker Two. At approximately 1317 hours we hit by two underwater explosions which severely damaged the ship. After I helped find and secure hundreds of five inch projectiles which were scattered all over the after berthing compartment I went topside to get the latest from my friend "Fugi" who was on afterlookout during GQ. As we were talking I saw one of the most beautiful and reassuring sites I have ever seen it was two F-8'S screaming towards us at about 50 feet off the deck. Just as they reached us one of the beauties shot straight up and gave us a salute!! To me they were saying " You'll be okay we're here now".
Just two years ago I found out the explosions were from two Mk36 Destructor mines. We were a result of friendly fire but of course we did not know it at the time.
I always assumed the F-8's were from the Saratoga since number 60 was in the area a lot but I see now Crusaders were only on smaller Carriers.

rank Roessner

447.

Fred, following is my recollection and history for the mission requested.

Prior to the 1972 cruise of the Hancock Air Wing team I was sent to Mine Warfare School in Long Beach California. This was to meet the requirement that each Air Wing & Carrier team had a mine field planning (so called expert) person on board. I was picked because I was also a graduate of the Light Attack Weapons School (LAWS) at NAS Lemoore.

During refresher training and the Operational Readiness Inspection
(ORI) prior to the 1972 cruise I planned, briefed and led the dropping of inert mines at the Santa Barbara Island mining range. This prepared the Air Wing for actual mine laying if ever required by higher authority.

On stop over in Hawaii for briefings by Pacific Fleet we received the planning folders (Top Secret) for the mining of Vietnam. I was directed by the Ships Strike Operations Officer, Fred J. Ferrazzano, CDR., USN (Ret), to commence planning for these folders. I accomplished this during transit from Hawaii to the Philippines prior to going on to "Yankee Station."

In July I was called to Strike Operations by CDR Ferrazzano to dust off the folders and establish an Alpha Strike size mine field plan using Mk-52 mines and DST's. This was completed on or about 3 July 1972. On 4 July we launched the first of 2 Alpha Strike size mining's of Haiphong Harbor with subject loads (classified). I led the package in VA-164 A/C bureau number 155025 on July 4th and VA-164 A/C bureau number 155026 on July 5th. Follow up flights to evaluate the status of the field laid were conducted over the next several weeks.

I left the ship shortly after this for VA-127 as the department head of weapons training.

Donald M. Snyder Capt. USN(Ret)

Note: The flyby Saders could certainly have been from the #34 Boat on which I made two Westpac cruises but #19 Hanna was also in the Gulf during the July '72 ops. We had been called back by "Perfume" so often that the standing joke put forth by the AI spooks was "Not So Fast, Hancock" when we were supposed to stand down and head east.

Fred J. Ferrazzano

448.

One of my most vivid and exciting experiences involved an alpha strike we made on the airfield at Kep. It was the first attack against Kep and occurred on May 1, 1967. Our fighter escorts were from our Air Wing's F-8 squadrons, VF-24 and VF-211. Real tigers!!! Anyway, enroute to the
target we spotted MIGs at my 3 o'clock high and the tally was passed (by just
about every A-4 in the strike group) to our F-8 escorts. A few seconds later I looked out to my right and saw two F-8s in afterburner in a max performance climb to engage. It was as beautiful (and comforting) a sight as I've
ever seen.

John Donis (A4 driver)

449.

As the CAG-5 LSO, who flew the wing F4, A7 and A6 the F4 was the easiest to bring aboard ship in any kind of weather!!!! The F8 was like the foil to the F4’s bludgeon!!! And it was always a little disconcerting to have a guy in the back seat looking over your shoulder and talking on the radio when silence was better?!?

Hot Dog Brown

450.

I flew the F-8J in VF24 and VF-301 and then transistioned to the F-4B/N while in VF-301. The Phantom was great fun; incredible power. But, it was a truck compared to a sports car like the Crusader. If anyone ever asks what I flew in the Navy, the answer is a no-brainer.

Alan Gaines

451.

I went from F-8s in VF-194 to F-4Js in VF-11 via a tour at Pax River. I was qualled in F-4s at Pax River and got a few hundred hours there. Transition to the Phantom was easy but the IPs in the RAG thought I knew a helluvalot more about the airplane than I actually did. That might explain how I managed to drop the whole TER on the Dare County target (6 OClock short). My overriding impression of the Phantom was that it was just brutish. Not elegant, not sleek, none of that. I always felt like a bully in the school hallway when I was around other airplanes. The cockpit was huge and it was like sitting on a park bench. In a hassle it was always in buffet which drove me nuts. But one (and probably the only) thing I really liked about the Phantom was landing it on the boat. I consistently won the golden tailhook on Forrestal and felt like I was cheating. Get a good start and you were almost guaranteed an OK pass. It took me a real long time to get used to having somebody in the back seat all the time. I finally came around the night Charlie Conatser and I bingoed into Patrick AFB without our billfolds or checkbooks. The gal behind the desk at the Q pegged me for the a-hole I am, but Charlie was able to sweet-talk her into loaning him twenty bucks, which got us a room and drinks in the bar.

Bull Durham

452.

I flew in both the Crusader and Phantom, most all versions of each and made two Westpac deployments in each. Combat deployments in the Crusader. Two entirely different airplanes.

Fam- Crusader fam involved lectures, films, handbook or Natops later reading, and some last will and testament revision. Start up was easy with plane captains help, taxi with nose gear steering easy enough, IP alongside in chase plane looking very apprehensive. Take-off piece of cake, almost takes off without pilot effort. Then the shit hits the fan. Remember, if you don't get the wing down and locked before 200 kts (or was it 220?) you DIE. Gear up after lift off, grab wing handle, check airspeed and see it about 200 heading for 220 in a hurry. Lower wing handle and fumble for the lock handle finding it when you hit about 230 kts and figure it's all over. You manage to live through the wing un-locked overspeed and actually start to relax. Then you remember chase IP and the sad fact you never gave him a hair of throttle to work with, but are amazed he's glued right on your right wing. Climbing to about 20 grand to play around and begining to feel like a real Navy fighter pilot hoping to run across one of those grape phantoms. No luck with grapes but speed run to 1.5 uses enough gas so that prep for landing comes next. Find a cloud and shoot an approach to it. Pretend break, speed brake out, decel to 220, dump gear, unlock wing raise wing handle, add power and stabilize around high donut. Start a pretend glide slope to your cloud, get right up to it and go around, mil, gear up, wing unlock and down, seems easier this time, and back to wing down fun flight. Head back in to NKX and feel the spring start to wind up tight. Check that chase IP is still glued to your right wing, make tower calls in soprano voice, gently break, boards out, downwind with high donut, turn at the 180 and squeak out some call with gear down in it. Overshoot a little, come back to center, see donut go fast, slow, everywhere but onspe ! ed., suck up some seat cushion and head for the centerline. Boun c e off the deck, then remember to pull throttle to idle and reland. notice you forgot the SB in switch, and flip it in (weight on gear switch saved your butt). Start brakes about 80 kts and slow to taxi speed around Rick Parker's ten marker. Hoping you hadn't wet yourself in the khaki flight suit, you shut down and climb out a BY GOD Crusader pilot. Answers to "How'd it go?", always "great, piece of cake!" Your very first Crusader lie but for damn sure not your last.

Phantom Fam- Start up, take off, kind of neat feel when both burners hit, gear up, flaps up, wish you could somehow turn off the RIO jabbering away in the back. Go Mach two, return NKX, shoot a few touch and goes, mostly on speed, ball centered, on centerline, plant the final, chute out, only a slight tug, taxi off, shut down and wonder why they even bother to pay you flight pay. If it wasn't for the task of making the RIO happy the whole flight would have been boring.

Bob Heisner

453.

Charles Plumb was a US Navy jet pilot in Vietnam.After 75 combat missions, his plane was destroyed by a surface-to-airmissile. Plumb ejected and parachuted into enemy hands. He was captured and spent 6 years in a communist Vietnamese prison. He survived the ordeal and now lectures on lessons learned from that experience!

One day, when Plumb and his wife were sitting in a restaurant, a man at another table came up and said, "You're Plumb! You flew jet fighters in Vietnam from the aircraft carrier Kitty Hawk. You were shot down!" "How in the world did you know that?" asked Plumb. "I packed your parachute," the man replied. Plumb gasped in surprise and gratitude. The man pumped his hand and said, "I guess it worked !" Plumb assured him, "It sure did. If your chute hadn't worked, I wouldn't be here today.

"Plumb couldn't sleep that night, thinking about that man. Plumb says, "I kept wondering what he had looked like in a Navy uniform: a whi ! tehat; a bib in the back; and bell-bottom trousers. I wonder how many times I might have seen him and not even said 'Good morning, how are you?' or anything because, you see, I was a fighter pilot and he was just a sailor." Plumb thought of the many hours the sailor had spent at a long wooden table in the bowels of the ship, carefully weaving the shrouds and folding the silks of each chute, holding in his hands each time the fate of someone he didn't know.

Now, Plumb asks his audience, "Who's packing your parachute?"Everyone has someone who provides what they need to make it through theday. He also points out that he needed many kinds of parachutes when his plane was shot down over enemy territory - he needed his physical parachute, his mental parachute, his emotional parachute, and his spiritual parachute. He called on all these supports before reaching safety.

Sometimes inthe daily challenges that life gives us, we miss what is really important.We may fail to say hello, please, or thank you, congratulate someone on some t hing wonderful that has happened to them, give a compliment, or just do something nice for no reason. As you go through this week, this month, this year, recognize people who pack your parachutes. I am sending you this as my way of thanking you for your part in packing my parachute. And I hope you will send it on to those who have helped pack yours!

Sometimes, we wonder why friends keep forwarding jokes to us without writing a word. Maybe this could explain it: When you are very busy, but still want to keep in touch, guess what you do --- you forward jokes. And to let you know that you are still remembered, you are still important, you are still loved, you are still cared for, guess what you get? A forwarded joke.So my friend, next time when you get a joke, don't think that you've been sent just another forwarded joke, but that you've been thought of today and your friend on the other end of your computer wanted to send you a smile, just helping you pack your parachute.

- via Doug White

454.

I, as you know, flew two tours in Vietnam in Crusaders, one in the E model and the last one, with you, in the J model. Needless to say, I loved the airplane. I later transitioned to the F4 as a TAR in VF-302, around summer or late 1973 and flew the airplane for the next four years, mostly in ACM support of the Fleet Squadrons. In the early years, for me that is, the F8 was rarely defeated by the Phantom as determined by who got on who's six! I believe I know a lot of the reasons for that: most of the original F4 guys came from airplanes that flew interceptor missions; I believe the Navy promulgated that atmosphere with the Phantom; almost, if not every Phantom, we saw in those years had a tank or more hung on it, blah, blah, blah. That being said, the Crusader was more like a Ferrari and the Phantom more like a big block Corvette, it overcame all it's aerodynamic deficiencies with ! raw power! That is, as long as there were no tanks hung under it and an airport was close! By the early 70's things had changed! All the F4 Guys in VF-302 were combat experienced and most of the old F8 types were as well. Needless to say, there was a lot of talent in that squadron from 1973 till I left in 1976. "Spanky" Springer, a former F8 type was the BEST in slow flight fights that I've ever seen, better than Raider, if you can believe that. He was on a mission to kick every F4 guy's butt in their own airplane and to the best of my knowledge he did just that! I'm quite sure that doesn't answer the question about which was the better airplane, but the following might give some "unbiased" insights. A clean Phantom, properly flown, was a very awesome machine and once everyone learned to quit flying it like a Crusader it's potential became readily apparent. By this, I mean get it out of the 30's and 40's and ! take it down low where the power/airframe combination could actually d o something. Disregard the smoking engines of the early Phantoms, give it a gun, a nearby airport to land at and you probably have a machine that was very slightly superior to the F8. Throw away rules of engagement limitations, assume the Sparrows on board would tune and actually work and you now have a clearly superior airplane/weapons system combination. There was a Phantom type, marine if memory serves, that was VERY GOOD in the airplane, Lew Hoyt. He flew it vertically and never above low 20's! Bottom line, if you were proficient in both types and you go at in W-291 for braggin rights, I believe you could beat yourself if you were driving the Phantom and you were also driving the Crusader, assuming you made the mistake in the Crusader of trying to fight the Phantom down in the 10's and 15's. If, on the other hand, you did not try to fight with the Spook down low, you probably have an advantage in the Crusader, simply because you might make h ! im loose sight of you and if he came up after you, he was a grape! The Gator simply had more g available and if supersonic, the Gator would walk over the Spook.

That being said, I loved the F8! The camaraderie in an F8 squadron was FAR SUPERIOR to that in the F4 Squadron I was in and anyone who thinks about it can see why. The F8 was a beautiful machine, fit like a glove and flew beautifully! On the back end of the ship, you had to pay 100% attention 100% of the time! Hands off on the cat shot! The F4 was just the opposite, piece of cake on the back end, fine at CQ weights on the shot, but one squirly mf on a heavy shot! Not enough stabalator authority. As a matter of fact, a late bolter in the F4 was a very dangerous situation, the airplane did not have enough authority to rotate on the deck, it had to wait until it was airborne!

I knew more FIGHTER PILOTS in the F8 community than I ever knew in the F4 Community but, I also knew some F4 Fighter Pilots and they were go o d. Would they have been better in the Gator? ABSOLUTELY!! After all, the F8 was a Fighter and the F4 was an interceptor!!!!!!!!!!!

Cheers, Ron Coalson

455.

I'm responding to your F8 v. F4 controversy. I transitioned from the F8 to the F4 in the '64-'65 time frame with less than 1000 hrs in the F8. I had 2 tours in VF-84 interspersed with a RAG instructor tour in VF-101 flying the F4. Thus I wound up with about 2600 hrs in the Phantom. I can't add much to the comments of Bull Durham and Jim Ryan. I am in total agreement. The F4 was an improved weapons system overall sans a set of guns (I flew several sorties with the Mk-4 gunpod and I don't think I ever fired out before the SOB jammed. I think I could have achieved one hit if I had the mil. lead for the entire pod). The Crusader was just an elation to fly - almost erotic. But it just couldn't compare with the ease of coming back aboard.

Richard D. "Doug" White

456.

Regarding F8 vs F4: in the late '60s I was Ops Officer for VC-10 at NAS GTMO when a Carrier Air Group was in the area during a base defex, and VC-10 acted as agressor against the F4 outfit assigned to defend the base for the exercise. I designed 22 sorties for our guys and 18 of them got through to their assigned target without interception. It was fun listening to the F4 guys calling an F8 on their tail. (Of course, we had "home court" advantage, and regularly practiced BCIs.)

R. L. (Dick) Partridge

457.

I flew the F4 and the F8 in VC-7. I didn't like the idea of when you pulled back on the stick in the F4 that the aircraft wanted to turn by itself. You almost had to push forward on the stick to keep it from stalling you. Most memorable moment in the F4 was with the CO in the back seat on my first hop in the F4. He briefed "Add power slowly, then go into burner. At the coast, come out of burner." I released the brakes, adding power slowly and before I was ready, lifted off...flaps up...turn...then he comes up on the radio and asks, "When are you gonna go into burner!" It DID have power!

Harry Landry

458.

F8 vs F4: From an old Marine. Flew F8Cs after being very lucky to go through VF-124 RAG at Miramar in '61. Best training I ever had. Flew every model in production at that time. Checked out Marine style in the F4B in '64 and was in the 2nd Marine F4 squadron to go into Nam. Again flew both F8 & F4 at Naval Missile Center, Point Mugu as a civilian. Hands down preferred F8, any F8!

F4 was a go fast point interceptor, high drag, brute force airplane. Point 8, 35k and you were in buffet at 30 degrees. Rules of engagement in '65 took primary weapon, AIM-7, away because of min arming range. It was a pretty good stable platform for bombing if you don't mind exposing two people and $12mil to drop a $500 iron bomb. Corps brought in one F8 squadron to provide 20mm capability and managed to hang bombs on it too. F8 was a fighter and loved to fly.

One aside, fought F4 vs F8 while at Mugu at VX-4's request. They were testing helmet mounted sighting for slewing AIM-9 head. Flew between 25 &15k us in F8. The testing began with them having the advantage. VX-4 pilots said they never got a good lock or shot. Believe that was more their realm than ours. Equal pilots in most any machine, if you play his game your meat.

Howard Trickey

459.

It is probably political and "aerial suicide" to follow the erudite, professional and well respected aviators who have already submitted comments concerning the 8 vs. the 4. Particularly when I am going to take, what will probably be an unpopular position.

But no one ever accused me of being bashful so......

No one loves/loved the 8 more than me. And I believe I have the qualifications to speak about both a/c.

The real truth of the matter, however, is that if you analytically and factually match performance, range, energy, combat/weapons loading, excess power, top speed, max altitude - whatever definitive book/performance category you choose, the F4, in most all cases, was the superior a/c.

As far as stability and control in the landing configuration - there just isn't any match up. The famous 8 "flat spot" in the landing configuration drag curve is well known to anyone that strap ! ped the bird on. It was a killer - figuratively and literally. Numerous aerodynamic, mechanical and electrical fixes were attempted in trying to fix it -with mixed to pretty poor results. Anyone that tells you they would rather take an 8 aboard at nite rather than a 4 is not being very prudent or I suspect - truthful.

There are also other factual nuances that emotions and time tend to dim in our memories, such as the considerably easier ability to inflight refuel the 4 over the 8. And two sets of eyes IS factually worth a lot -at least in my retrospective. There are some of us who, when transitioning to the 4 were heard to say, "I'd rather have another 1000 lbs. of gas back there". That was so wrong - at least for me. I have heard, and I probably made, all the deleterious remarks that can be made concerning a RIO. Again, I was wrong. I am here to write this because a fellow by the name of ! Rick Webb saw SAMs I never saw. He also helped me keep the yellow ball level with the green lights (particularly at nite) more times than I care to tell. I do believe he probably had a lot of self interest in both of those events. But the fact of the matter was that when I finally gave in and worked with Rick and we worked out our differences (he was the one that made it happen - not ole hard head here) we made a helluva fine combination - and thats a fact.

FACTUALLY and data wise the 4 was generally superior. As in ANY a/c, the 4 had drawbacks. The smoke trail is one that is frequently mentioned. That was corrected but probably too late to have a great combat impact. It hardly ever gets mentioned but if you are discussing facts, the evolution of the 4 to its last model is considered by most engineers and those that flew most all models of both the 8 and the 4 (I was extremely privileged and lucky as hell to have flown most all of them) to have made a greater qu ! antum improvement over the design life of the a/c. I am not going to discuss the F8U-3. That's a whole 'nother day at the bar. But in case it may have slipped a few minds, the competition of that era was the F8U-3 vs the F-4. Not the F-4 vs the F-8 models we flew. They (the F8-3 and the F-4) competed to be the next generation carrier fighter a/c to replace the Demon and the Crusader.

And then we might as well get into the emotions. There is no question that the 8 had the best kill ratio (18 kills) in VN. That was one of the major reasons that Top Gun was started - to get the air to air skills of the 8 drivers into the 4 community. See HF-19, Vought's Crusader History, Part 4, Navy Fighter Squadrons. The 8, in none of its versions, neither in configuration nor weaponry, was ever a true stand off and kill machine. Nor was it ever really designed/intended to do so. Therefore, its drivers, by dent ! of mission requirements and weaponry, became skilled at "dogf i ghting". Some of the best of the best became, and rightfully so, bonafide legends. Many of those became legends in both communities. Again, rightly so.

The F-3 community and the incoming 4 community at the onset, were still committed to "Fox 2. OK - set it up again". At the time it became obvious that dogfight skills were still a requirement, the 4 community never even came close in superiority in scheduled or unscheduled 4 v 8 duels. BUT as the 8 drivers, their air combat skills, and the Top Gun trained crews began to infiltrate the 4 community, that changed and changed quickly. And the record in the war changed with it. Those are simply facts.

The USN 4s should have evolved into an "internal gun toter" as the USAF birds did. The Navy made a mistake and while not openly admitting it, tried to get around it by designing an external gun pod - a notorious failure. Bob Heisner can give you chapter and verse on ! that project. I can only think of about 3 reasons why the USN failed to develop, or borrow from the USAF, an internal gun. These are just my opinions and someone from the old NAVAIR can probably chew me up if they desire.

1. Increased weight. Yes, but in the air to air configuration/mission it would have made little or no difference. 2. Increased deck space requirement - extended nose. 3. Reduced vision caused by extended nose profile on a CV approach.

The RF-4 was used very effectively on CV's. That puts the lie to 2 and 3 above. I flew the RF at nite on a CV on multiple occasions and never had any problems caused by reduced "approach vision". I had a lot of problems, but they weren't caused by the a/c. In any version the 4 was "better" at th ! e blunt end than the 8.

So the 4 (USN) had no gun and we all be c ame what has become part of the mystique, camraderie and legend - the Last of the Gunfighters. But even that distinction has now been superseded.

I have probably been ousted from the community by now. But by dint of a considerably less than routine career (I can hear the remarks) I was priviged to fly a lot of aircraft of various services, manufacturers and countries - several from CVs. I can and am only speaking for myself. But as I look back, the 8 was the "love of my life" - and it still is. It was a wonderful handling machine, had a look that will last forever in aviation etc. etc. Even its deficiencies such as its criticality in getting aboard, particularly at night, were worn with a real sense of pride. Probably not at "Quarter mile, call the ball", but certainly later in the RR and at the O'Club. There are several other accolades we can lay on the Crusader. No doubt about it. But best of all, we pr ! obably felt we were the last descendants of Richtoffen, Bader, Mick Mannock et al. We probably were. It was each of us alone with our own thoughts, efforts and skills - to win or lose to the best of each individuals singular personal ability. And I certainly did enough of the latter (lose).

The more aircraft you are privileged to fly the more you realize that each one has something to give you or something for you to learn. And some do some things better than others. For example, the F-106 had the finest flight control system (feel) I ever touched. The F-104 was a sleek, bonafide emotional high. Clanking around base ops in your spurs was a real ego trip in and of itself. And don't underestimate that bird. Put in the hands of someone like Gen. Joe Engle, former USAF test pilot, X-15 pilot/astronaut and original Shuttle test pilot, it was more than you wanted to chew on in ACM.

So I gues ! s when you get to the bottom line - and at our age, there is now < B R>a lot of memory and bar talk that gets us there - you still pick and choose with both some facts and a lot of emotion. That's as it should be. I still pick the 8 as my all time favorite, but the reasons are based on both the a/c itself and the wonderful emotions that went with it.

However,I will not be accused of not getting to a "bottom line", talking out of both sides of my mouth or being wishy washy. I will allow myself some "bar talk" liberal rules. If I was going back over the beach, particularly at night, I'll take Rick Webb and the 4 - every time. But I sure would ask the "god of pilots" to give me my F-8 experience.

End of discussion. But I wanted to at least try to give the 4 and its crews their day in court.

Jack Finley

460.

I flew the Crusader in VF-11, VF-124, and VFP-63,(nice and clean F8's - no S/W pylons to slow you down). Later, I flew the F4's as a RAG instructor in VF-121. Spent many sorties flying the clean Crusader against the early Top Gun folks during 1970, and bottom line is this - - above 20K feet, the Crusader, with it's great wing, can always win in a head on ACM engagement against a Phantom as long as he keeps the fight up high (assuming pilots of equally excellent ability and guts). Below 20K feet, it's an entirely different story. There, the F4 with more raw power,(always in some kind of buffett!!!!) eats the Crusader for lunch. Just my less than humble opinion. of course.

Jim Roberts

461.

In November or December of 1966 when I was told that I had screened and would be assigned to a West Coast F-4 squadron, I was pleased, but unlike many of my compatriots, not ecstatically happy. Not that I didn't want command of a fighter squadron, but at that time in my life I fully expected to get such a command. One can't get to that point in their flying career without being able to compare abilities with others and have a good idea where you stood. I had made two WestPac deployments flying F9F-2 "Panthers" from straight deck carriers - the first flying combat in Korea. I had been an advanced flight instructor for a three year tour in Memphis. I had made two more WestPac deployments on Coral Sea flying F-8's. The first the then F8U-1E, which was the last of the day-only ! , clear air mass fighters. What a gentlemanly way to deploy. At sunset you got cleaned up, went to dinner, and then played cards or watched movies in the ready room, or other civilized things that you can do after dark when there aren't any women around. The next deployment was with the then F8U-2N. With a slightly upgraded radar and an auto pilot (not autothrottle) we were "all weather" which meant fly at night. To this point my flying, except for instructing, had been in single-engine, single pilot fighter aircraft. I loved the F8, and flew it well. My night-time boarding rate was quite high, although there were times when the approaches lacked a certain symmetry. I didn't get "FNKUA's", but not a lot of OK 3's. Generally something in the (OK) (NEPIC) - 2. I hated to go past a lot of perfectly good wires.
After being told that I would be getting a West Coast F-4 squadron, I spent the next three days giving very serious thought to calling BUPERS and asking that they put my name back in the hat and come up with an F8 squadron. Not only did I like the plane, but as you later came to find out, there are/were times when I felt it absolutely appropriate to "hang it out" just a bit. In a single-place aircraft I only had to consider myself, and didn't have to feel any sense of responsibility for the life of someone else in the aircraft. I was also concerned, that it would force me to be less aggressive and therefore not max out the aircraft/pilot potential. I then decided that there could be some definite plusses to having the F4 experience as the life of the F8 was limited, and with both aircraft in my background it gave more options when it came time for a tour as CAG.
Early in the RAG I discovered several things. One was, that there wasn't anything at all wrong with the F4 - it was the way it was being flown. It didn't have to be just a point interceptor, and it could close-in hassle with the best of the aircraft. The other thing I found was that there were some absolutely insane GIB's, and if you found the right one you had to be careful you didn't let him talk you into doing something really stupid. Although you could build an aerodynamic edge with the F4 at lower altitude, you also didn't give up much of an edge at higher altitudes if you flew smart. Without a whole litany of "things" when going vertical for separation, I never stayed in burner, and always tried to fly as close to a zero "g" profile as possible. I could gain more altitude, and begin to build a fuel reserve. Against other F4's I could consistently have an extra 500-1,000 pounds of fuel w ! hen the other guy(s) hit "bingo fuel". Now they're a duck. I often used asymmetrical power, and would try to turn fights into right-hand turns, where I could fly left-handed and turn around more in my seat, which was not something that most people practiced. We had 20/20 vision as verified by squinting an eye chart into focus for a flight physical. RIO's had an honest 20/20 corrected vision. Once I had full confidence in the GIB I would often tell him to keep the other a/c in sight while I came inside to the gauges while going vertical so I could fly it right to the absolute edge and see the airspeed indicator go to "0" just as I sliced over the top. The GIB could then talk my eyes back onto the other aircraft. On the air-to-mud stuff a good RIO calling airspeed and altitude could lower the CEP by 100' or so.
For the pure joy of flying, nothing in my 6,600 hours of accident free flying in some 32 different types/models of aircraft, came close to the "Crusader". For the variety of missions, especially the types we flew in Vietnam, the F4 could do more, better. In a hassle, I would rate the performance of the two aircraft so nearly identical that the difference was solely pilot ability.
One thing that I seldom hear "Crusader" pilots talk about is how well they did with low, medium, and high-altitude gunnery on the towed targets. Or for that matter, what they did on strafing on a scored target. It's great to go out and yank and bank and show gun camera film of the other guys at your 12, but it's just bar talk if you can't hit when you get there.

Roger Sheets (Blinky behind my back)

462.
To weigh in on the F-8 - F-4 discussion I'd like to put in my comparison. Flew both of them back in the 60's with the majority in the F-8. The F-8 had to be the finest flying experience with large input from the flight control system. It was so smooth that you just had to think about what you wanted to do and it was done. In contrast, the F-4 was like flying a truck. (albeit a very powerful and fast truck). It proved that anything would fly if you put enough power on it. The F-4 had its advantages with the extra set of eyes in a hassle, a superior radar, and much kinder in the landing pattern. Each aircraft had its own features but it probably comes down to personal preference and mine would certainly have to go with the F-8 hands down as far as a pleasure to fly. I found that in one on one with the two aircraft, without external tanks on the F-4 but both A/C w ! ith missiles, and comparable pilots, the F-4 would usually win at 20 K and below while the F-8 had the advantage at 25 K and above. If the fight developed into a real hairball, the F-8 would have the advantage of guns. Speaking of guns, I did the guns project on the F-4 while at VX-4 based on fleet requests. The inputs had requested that we look at putting mini-pods on the outboard wing stations. That didn't last long because of several factors. The 7.62 ammo of the mini-pod had a very poor chance of doing sufficient damage to another aircraft if you could hit it, given the harmonization problems challenge of the wing mounts and lack of a gyro sight. We decided to see what could be done with the MK-4 gun pod on the centerline. The pod had a lousy reputation based on some very good reasons. Fire out was the primary problem. To start the project, we went to Hughes and asked ! them to support the project. They agreed and supplied an engi n eering support guy and a maintenance man. They were most helpful and the project was sort of fun. We came up with about 6 changes to the gun which got the fireout rate up around 90% I believe. I can't remember all the changes but they included boring out the revolver chambers by around 0.002, changing the ammo belt lubricant from a wax base to a silicon liquid, and changing out a few springs. Once we got the thing working we tried to solve the gunsight problem. We worked with the installed fixed sight and designed a new reticle to drop in the sight. This was based on some fancy calculations by our Ph.D. advisor (it was over my head). The outcome was a sight that was based on g forces. The center cross was set for the proper lead at 1000' and one g. A curve was cut below the cross to indicate the estimated lead for 2, 3, and 4 g's. The theory was to get into a stable tracking situation and a ! quick glance at the g meter would provide the approximate arc to use for lead. We also loaded every seventh round as a tracer. It was pretty crude but it did work. We flew a number of flights against a maneuvering dart and got hits on nearly every flight. We tested it by briefing other pilots on the technique and they were successful in getting hits nearly every time. The project, while generally successful, was not accepted by the fleet squadrons because of having to give up the centerline fuel tank and having all that weight on the centerline at landing. It was that type of work that made the job interesting. A great tour with some of the greatest flying in a career. In those days, it was all with F-8's and F-4's, but that was more than satisfying.

Chuck Klusmann

463.

I was posted to MCAS El Toro, and to MAG-33, in October, 1959. MAG-33 had two F-8 gunship squadrons at the time, 451 and 323 I think. MAG-33 was forming a new photo-recon squadron, VMCJ-3, to replace VMCJ-1 which departed for Iwakuni in September. I was assigned to VMCJ-3 in October, 1959, I was ecstatic to be flying the F8. It cost a million dollars a copy, then, and it was the sleekest thing I had ever seen. VMCJ-3 had about twenty F8U-1P aircraft in October, 1959, in the range of 146843 to 146875. It also had 144617, 144621, and 145609. I also later flew the gunship, the F8U-2. After ground training, my first flight in the 1P was on December 15, 1959, in F8U-1P #146870. I still remember that first take-off and landing.

We were a squadron of young guys, and we had lots of adventures in the F8. Lt. Bercholli and I flew to Austin one time, dived on the University of Texas tower, and then hit the AB at about 500 feet. My girlfriend said it was like an explosion went off in church that morning. Coming home we had the sun in our eyes, but our TACAN clicked off 10 miles a minute. Whenever I stopped at an Air Force base, I made sure on take off to begin a vertical climb at the end of the runway straight up out of sight. It took four minutes to level off at 40,000 feet. At the other extreme, I got caught taking pictures out in the desert at 25 feet. We used to jump the 104s from nearby March AFB. That was the only aircraft that could keep up with us, and it could not turn nearly as well. One day there were eight or nine of us zooming all over the sky above LA. What a blast!

We had some mishaps, too. Lt. Bill Stein was taxing one day and the tip of his left wing hit a starter cart. It twisted the wing so badly that the airframe was a strike. I taxied out one day and on run-up the EGT went to 1000. A bird had flown through the engine between the ramp and the end of the runway. One day an F8 crossing the runway hit another F8 that had just landed. The crossing F8 buried its nose in the fuel tank of the landing F8 and a fire broke out. The pilot, Lt. Tom Troxell, was pinned in the cockpit, and sat and burned for about an hour. They got a crane and finally pulled the two planes apart, at which point Tom fell out of the bottom of the cockpit. But it was too late, Tom, who had just been married, died a few days later of the burn injuries. Another pilot got into a violent thunderstorm at about 40,000 feet at night over West Texas. Updrafts stalled the engine and flipped the aircraft over on its back. With no lights and no controls, Chauncy ejected. His chute opened, but the winds blew him up into the cords. Wind and hail battered him as he fell and fell through the cloud. It was not until he fell out the bottom of the cloud that he fell out of his chute and floated down. He landed in a field and walked a few miles to a farm house where he called the El Toro tower to let them know he would be arriving late.

But the mishap that takes the cake is the misadventures of a senior aviator, who shall here remain nameless. He was not a great pilot and he was a little nervous about the F8. On about his third flight, he raised the gear at 120 instead of lifting the nose. His F8 dropped like a rock to the runway, but continued to skid along under full power. He skidded across in front of his astonished wingman who just barely managed to hop over him and complete his take off. The pilot froze on the controls and left the aircraft in afterburner, and, lo and behold, somehow it flew. After he dumped fuel and another pilot examined the underside of his plane, he came around for a normal landing and nothing bad happened except that one landing gear collapsed. What a great airplane! A week or so after this event, the same pilot forgot to transfer fuel after takeoff, and his F8 flamed out at 20,000 feet with 2,000 pounds still remaining in the little tank. However, he could not restart because the RAT did not power the fuel pump (an obvious design flaw). So this time he had to eject, and the aircraft crashed.

Of course, there is also the famous story of a division of Marine pilots landing on a 0/0 night at Iwakuni on the same runway from different directions. But you probably know about that.

You have made a great web site, and it means a lot to those of who were lucky enough to fly the F8U. I've been upside down in it, had a cockpit full of smoke, got it up over 50,000 feet, made night and day landings in all kinds of weather, flew through fog and rain and soup for clouds in formation and alone, and flew it supersonic and over 1,000 mph. It was a noisy, unstable, coke-bottle aircraft with fins that would sometime flip, and it had a funny wing, and it was a bear to get aboard the carrier. But it was the fastest, bestest aircraft I have ever seen, and I loved to fly it. Every day I climbed into the cockpit, I knew that one mistake could do me in, but I also knew that this right to fly the F8U was the gift of a lifetime. I was only 24 and 25, and I could hardly believe my good luck that the government would give me this excellent aircraft for me to fly around in, and to fight in should that become necessary. Is this a great country, or what!

Flying that F8U was just about my favorite thing.

James Hagan

464.

Gee, looks like "Easy" Ed Shiver and I will have to change our log books they must be wrong. Also The "VOUGHT VANGUARD" magazine also must be mistaken. VV issue of 10/4/57 p. 1 reports in retrospect that VF 32 on the East coast was the first F8 squadron fo ! rmed. Also, on p. 4 of VV there's a photo of F. X. TIMMES of VF154 mounting up as skipper of the second F8 squadron (and first on the West coast)--funny, there's nary a peep about 211.
I know I wasn't the first VF 154 pilot to fly the F8 but my last flight in the FJ-3 was 28 June 1957 and my first F8 flight was 5 July 1957--by 1 Aug I had about 20 hours and I had about 150 hrs. and was carqualled by the end of 1957.
As I understand it VF 32 got delayed for some reason & VF 154 was the first F8 squadron t o actually deploy (around 20 Feb. '58) but one of our comrades from 32 may have evidence to the contrary. There's quite a bit of news coverage and documentation on all this including SAN JOSE NEWS, MOFFET NEWS etc..
As to 211, it looks like they had the F8's by mid August 1957 (WHOA!! 211 even did an "air-show" on 16 August). But then the Checkertails dogged it while VF 154 went out and tested the Gator for the ! m. "S.F. Examiner" of 9 June 1958 carries a story, BIG NEWS!, after a couple of critical F8 landing gear fixes (thanks to VF154 R&D), 211 has finally ventured out to carqual and 211 ops officer, CDR. (?) George W. Ellis, 34* allows as how 211 might even deploy in a few months (albeit in complete comfort and safety aboard humongous decked Midway.

John "Crash" Miottel

465.

On Nov. 20, 2003 Rob Rivers of the NASA Langley Research Center gave a talk about flying the Russian Tu-144 SST. Rivers is a former naval aviator who flew the F8 Crusader in the 70's; he deployed aboard the USS Constellation. He also worked briefly as a pilot for Eastern Airlines. He was selected for this assignment because he has flight experience with the British Concorde, taking it to Mach 2.0 and 60,000 feet.

In 1998 Rivers and another NASA test pilot along with a few research scientists were invited to Russia to make a hands on check of Tu-144 experimental flight data and experimental data. The efforts of the US airmen proved to be very useful as their test flights uncovered a serious flaw in the French designed data collection system; it seems the French system introduced a significant time delay between the sensors and the data recorders causing distorted and misleading performance results.

The trip was almost canceled when Rivers broke his leg in a skiing accident about ten days before departure from the US. During the trip he used crutches and a cane to get around, however, the Russians said he would not be allowed to fly if he could not stand and walk unassisted. He managed to stand and move enough to get their approval.

The Tu-144 is based at the huge Soviet airbase at Tupolov, said to be larger than Edwards AFB, Nas Patuxent River, and Wright Patterson AFB combined. The base was in extremely poor condition due to the Soviet economy which was in shambles. There were no light bulbs and no heat; it was so cold that when the outside temperature rose above 40 degrees they opened the windows to try and warm up the inside rooms. There was also a shortage of paper, in fact it was almost non existent. The Russian pilots made notes on bits and scraps of paper and research data such as performance curves were plotted on a single sheet of paper so that 20 or 25 curves would be plotted on one graph.

Rivers reported that the Tu-144 has a strong resemblance to the Concorde but it does not appear to be a design copy; the Tu-144 is approximately 20 percent larger than the Concorde. The aircraft weighs about 420000 pounds of which about 200000 pounds is fuel. The Russians try to make their aircraft from Soviet produced materials and components; this is probably a result of not having any foreign exchange funds. They rely on locally produced synthetic rubber which is of a poor quality, consequently the Tu-144 has 16 wheels on the main landing gear to carry the loads. Titanium is plentiful and there were some large castings made of solid titanium. The engines had a three stage afterburner but overall production quality was lacking as they required overhaul every 200 hours.

The flight program began in a rather bizarre fashion because the Soviets had no money. The plane was fueled in the middle of the night with the fuel delivery people being paid by giving them a suitcase full of American money. The aircraft would be started on the parking ramp and all systems would be checked and then the plane would be shut down and towed to the takeoff position at the end of the runway and restarted. The reason for this was that the taxiways were in such poor condition, with cracked concrete, that the engine would be at serious risk of damage by ingesting stone particles.

The pilots have no engine instruments on their control panel other than a tachometer; all engine instruments are on the engineers console which the pilots cannot see or reach from their seats. Takeoff was rather straight forward with lift off about 250 knots. Rivers took the plane to Mach 2.0 and 60000 feet. Longitudinal trim is critical and it is mostly accomplished by the flight engineer transferring fuel on a continuos basis. The largest fear in the Tu-144 is rapid decompression at high altitude as there is no real way to get down in a hurry; they must descend gradually in order to keep the speed from exceeding design limits that might result in the aircraft coming apart. Approach speed was 220 knots with touchdown in the 150 to 170 region. Rivers was permitted to make only one landing in order to save the life of the tires, however, he was allowed to make several low approaches down to 30 or 40 feet.

Jack Jennings

466.
As to F8 Crusader departure/spin tales, I'm reminded of one evenings (dusk) little engagment when I was gaining the advantage at about 25k, but just couldn't get enough lead to get the pipper on my opponent (wingie). I'm sure there are some who would say I never got the pipper on my opponent. I pulled a little harder when the nose started to wander still not achieving the necessary lead. I eased in a little more back-stick and was smartly thrown around the cockpit with my head/helmet bouncing off the canopy. Sounds like someone beating on the side of the a/c with a large board echoed throughout the cockpit. As I recall, I think I just let go of everything except lunch. When I recovered, I was passing through 12k, inverted, in burner (after coming out of burner at the banging sounds) and right at Mach1. And it was dark. I had gone below the horizon. Afterward we very gingerly joined up and proceeded back to Cecil Field. My wingie had a little trouble staying with me. I said I wasn't nervous, I was merely quick.

During our brief debrief, at the BOQ bar, my wingie said it looked like the a/c cartwheeled end- over-end and flames belched from the intake and the tailpipe.

Doug White

467.

If you're old enough to have served in the Navy or Marine Corps during the Vietnam War . . particularly if you were a pilot . . chances are you've heard of the infamous Cubi Point Catapult. Cubi Point Naval Air Station [and the adjoining Subic Bay] in the Philippines was a place where war-weary Navy and Marine Corps aviators, Marines and Sailors,     could let off a little steam after flying combat missions over Vietnam or spending weeks on the gun-line aboard ships on Yankee Station.

The Cubi Point Officers' Club, as well as their counterparts at the other officer and enlisted clubs, were forever tasked with devising new and challenging ways of keeping the warriors entertained.

Enter Cmdr. John L. Sullivan and the now famous Cubi Point Officers Club catapult. The catapult at the Cubi Point Officers' Club came into existence in 1969. The escapades of Navy and Marine pilots at the Cubi Point Officers' Club, is the stuff of legend. These tales will be handed down and embellished as long as we have aircraft carriers.

One of these escapades involved ' night cat shots' catapulting a blindfolded squadron mate [ two guys at once were called ' F-4 night cat shots' ] down 8 or 9 stairs in a chair from the bar upstairs . . onto the dance floor below. The chair had castors on it and rarely did a pilot make it down the stairs then scoot along the dance floor in an upright posture. Most arrived on the dance floor in a crumpled mess. The practice often ended with disastrous results . . broken bones, severe strains, small concussions, and numerous other injuries that would sometimes ground crack combat pilots. Because of the number of injuries, the Admiral in command suggested the chair catapulting be eliminated, but to then come up with an interesting, but safer alternative.

An extension to the club was in progress giving an opportunity for a significant change. Red Horse's scavengers headed off to the surplus yard, liberated a banged up refueling tank and had metal smiths' convert it into something resembling the fuselage and cockpit of an A-7 Corsair fighter [ A-7 Corsair Fighter? What is this §$&*! It was, of course, made to resemble a REAL fighter, the F-8!] aircraft. The ' aircraft ' was 6-feet long with shoulde r straps and a safety belt. It was equipped with a stick that, when pulled back sharply, released a hook in the rear of the [projectile] vehicle to allow arrestment. The projectile's propulsion was provided by pressurized nitrogen tanks hooked up to a pressure manifold, an arrangement powerful enough to propel the vehicle to 15 mph in the first two feet . . or an acceleration from zero to 15 m.p.h. in that distance. Immediately outside the club's wall was a pool of water four feet deep. And each pilot had 6 inches to play with on the control stick with to successfully engage the contrived hook with the arresting wire.

The vehicle was named ' Red Horse One' in honor of the Skipper. And successful pilots were held in high esteem . . their names were inscribed in gold letters on the club's ' Wall of Fame '.

Because the trap wire was only fourteen feet from the projectile's nose, the pilot's reaction time had to be pretty snappy. And since impact with the water was necessary to stop the projectile, it had to enter the water as quickly & deeply as possible. After each ignominious exit, a winch hauled the device back inside the club to the catapult.

The first night the catapult was in operation it attracted a huge crowd. Rear Adm. Isaman was the first to ride the vehicle after it was declared safe. The Admiral manned the cockpit, saluted . . and was launched. He dropped the hook early; we awaited for the microsecond of a 'skip and catch' of the hook; it didn't happen. Instead the hook caught the rubber we had attached to the steel bumper just short of the arresting wire. To the disappointed howl of the j unior officers, the hook tore the rubber from the bumper then caught the wire. No wet Admiral. Instead, Isaman became the first pilot to successfully ' trap' in the vehicle.

After being presented with a bottle of champagne, Isaman's name was enshrined on The Wall of Fame.That night, some 40 pilots rode the catapult that night before another pilot successfully trapped. Word of the ' Cat' quickly spread throughout Southeast Asia and     even attracted Air Force F-4 pilots from Clark Air Force Base. The Clark jocks would come swaggering in loudly claiming they were equal to the task. Much to the delight of the Navy onlookers . . none of the Air Force jocks were quick enough to catch the trap.

Enlisted men operated and maintained the catapult during their off time and compensated for their work from funds taken in for the operation of the ' Cat'. It cost nothing to ride it . . providing they caught the wire. However, it cost five dollars if the ' pilot' had to be pulled out of the pool.

One of the many dignitaries, who attempted to ride the ' Cat', was Under Secretary of the Navy John Warner ( Virginia's Senator). He had heard of the Cubi CAT and requested to ride it. Word spread rapidly, that John Warner would try his luck, and the club was soon packed.

Before launch the Secretary was outfitted in white linen coveralls with ' Red Horse Cat House ' embossed in red letters on the back. Amid cheers, the Secretary bravely launched and promptly landed in the pool. We catapulted him five more times, and each time the Secretary got wet and was ' fished' out of the pool. The Skipper adjusted the bumper plate rearward about an inch each time to make it easier for him catch the trap wire. While John Warner never noticed this . . we all did ! After his fifth trip into the pool, Warner told the Skipper : " Red Horse . . this just can't be done ! "

By this time the bumper had been adjusted back an additional foot from the arresting wire, and it was now an easy arrest for a pilot who had a launch or two under his belt. So, ' Red Horse' in his tropical whites, strapped in to show Warner that, indeed, it could be done.   Just before the launch, however, one of the junior officers kicked the bumper to its original and more difficult location. Meyers launched and missed. And to John Warner's total delight . . the Skipper settled ignominiously to the bottom of the pool in his whites. The Secretary was so pleased with his experience he wouldn't take off his coveralls. Wringing wet, they both sat down to lunch with dry, comfortable colleagues. Several hours later, still wearing the white coveralls with the bright red inscription, the Secretary departed in his airplane.

The ' Cat ' and the ' Wall of Fame' are gone. However, what does remain are the fond memories of the men whose ingenuity and hard work and hard play made it a reality.      And it remains today as a legend of the Fleet.

Tony Longo

468.

Red Horse's Cat House

Subic Bay in the Philippines was a prize of the Spanish American War and is one of the most beautiful harbors in the world. During my early deployments to WestPac with my first squadron in '58-'60 , we often visited Subic Bay and flew into the new airfield at NAS Cubi Point. Cubi had been carved out of a bay side hill by the Sea Bee's two years before and the O'Club was little more than a shack atop that hill. But it commanded a magnificent view of Subic Bay and had a great outdoor patio. Since the club had no air conditioning, the patio was a popular place to eat and drink. Overhead pipes were used to support vines and flowers (and usually a few drunk aviators.) The old Cubi Club was very popular throughout WestPac. If you went to the more formal Subic Bay Officers' Club on the naval station, you had to wear a coat and tie.

Then in the mid'60's the club burned down (or maybe "up"). It was replaced by a concrete structure which was clearly built to last - it certainly wasn't about to burn. None of us WestPac aviators liked it very much. It was too sterile, and now required a coat and tie (or barong tagalog.)

As the Vietnam War dragged on, WestPac deployments were spent at Yankee Station in the Tonkin Gulf. No longer did we wander around at sea enroute to exotic Asian ports. Visits to other than Subic Bay were rare for the carriers during the Vietnam era. We were lucky to get to Hong Kong (or Japan) once during a seven to nine month deployment. Carriers would typically spend thirty days on the line in combat operations, then four days in Subic only to return immediately to Yankee Station for a month or more of twelve-hour-a-day flight operations. As a result those brief periods in port were pretty dissolute times. The O'Clubs became the scenes of some pretty bizarre behavior as aviators fresh from combat rolled in with a "give-a-shit" attitude. This was significantly augmented when Marines from Danang, Chu Li, or helo squadrons from LPH's in port were present. When an aircraft carrier came into Subic, all the station keepers pulled their wives and children off the streets.

At Cubi Point, in the rebuilt O'Club there was a basement that had been used for storage. This was converted into a downstairs bar, open 24 hrs a day, a venue for the animals. The renovation was done so that the downstairs bar was virtually indestructible: wooden picnic type tables and benches, stark concrete floor and walls, and a fire hydrant with long hose. Periodically during the night, a Filipino in rubber boots would show up and hose away the trash and broken glasses. I recall one evening about 10 pm looking down the bar and observing a Marine sitting on a bar stool and drinking what was clearly not his first drink. I noticed him because the only thing he was wearing was his combat boots - no one seemed to care.

In 1969, when I was there with my squadron in USS America, the commanding officer of NAS Cubi Point was Capt "Red Horse" Myers, a colorful naval aviator. One day he decided a device for entertainment should be built in the downstairs bar. A hole was cut in the concrete wall and fitted with swinging doors. Just outside, a pool was added. Inside, a twenty foot track for a simulated cockpit-on-wheels was laid down leading through the swinging doors and out into the pool. The cockpit was fitted with an arresting hook underneath, a seat, and hook handle. Finally, just before the pool, an arresting wire was installed across the track. Compressed air was used to propel the cockpit down the tracks. The object, of course, was to drop the hook just at the right instant, catch the wire, and not get wet. Drop too early and a ramp caused the hook to skip over the wire ... drop too late and, either way, into the pool.

A Filipino club employee set up and operated the catapult, and I think the charge was $5 a shot. One night I watched some guy (it could have been CAG) try to bribe one of the Filipina waitresses into taking a shot. He went around getting donations and I recall he raised a lot of money. But, wisely, the woman refused the offer. I hate to think what would have happened if she had - those guys were very drunk.

So, that was "Red Horse's Cat House."
Epilogue: A former squadron mate, who now flies for Federal Express, visits Subic on a regular basis - they use the Cubi Point runway. He says that the Filipinos have designated Subic as a free port, that it is thriving with ship overhaul business, the adjacent town of Olongapo is cleaned up, and things there are booming.

Jack Tallman

469.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading about the history of the Red Horse Cat at the Cubi O Club. Your request for O Club memories brought back many for me; most of them were at the Cubi Club during two WestPac cruises with VF-24 aboard Hancock from 1970 to 1972. But the shining example of aviators at their best was something I saw in DaNang during my first deployment.

I was flying wing for Ken Cox, our Operations Officer, and for reasons that I have long since forgotten we were bingoed to DaNang at the end of a BarCap mission with instructions to come back out to the ship for a night recovery. (We must have done something wrong to get a penalty like that!) We landed at DaNang late in the afternoon, parked the airplanes on the FASU line and since our Charlie time was some hours away began a search for sustenance. The Mess Hall had closed but we were told that most of the Marine Air Wing would be at the MAG (I don't remember the number) Club for a USO show and we could get a burger there. We hitched a ride to the club. Like many of the buildings on the Navy/Marine side of the airfield, it was somewhat temporary. But that did not hold down anyone's enthusiasm and the party was in full swing when we got there.

The Club seemed to be one fairly large room with a low stage and long tables at the same level that ran out from the stage like radials. The bar was in the back of the room with a very good view. Ken and I went to the bar, ordered burgers and cokes (we did have a Charlie that night) and enjoyed the show.

I remember that each Marine squadron occupied one of the low tables and attendance was very good; there were very few empty seats. Liquid refreshment had been flowing for a good while and spirits were way up there. Most of the Marines were wearing their Shit Hots (can you believe the Air Force calls them party suits?) and, as I said, having a very good time.

The entertainment on the stage was being provided by the USO and, when we first got there, was the traditional Philipino band singing current American hits (but you had to know the words already). They were doing a pretty good job, but you could tell that most of the party-goers were anxious for the main act, which would be two round eye (not a term I just made up) sisters who sang and danced. When they finally came on stage, I must admit they looked pretty good and I'm sure that to most of the local air wing (remember they were in country for a year) they were solid 10s.

The band played and the girls sang. Not bad really. They were dressed somewhat like the Dallas Cowboy cheer leaders of that era, and that wasn't bad either. The audience was enthralled and really got in the spirit. Soon several of the Marines decided that the girls needed dancing partners and went on stage with them. The sisters seemed a little startled by this but, being the troupers they were, kept the show going. It was a this point that one young (and rather small) Marine decided to make his move and join his brethren on stage. He was at the far end of his squadron's table (nearest to the bar). To expedite his journey to the stage he chose to get on the end of his table and make a dash for it. He ran the length of the table, stepping on hands, drinks, food and the squadron stuffed mascot (I believe it was a bird of some kind). When he neared the edge of the stage (as luck wou ld have it) a large Marine in a matching Shit Hot happened to be dancing intently there with his back to the audience. Well, the intrepid young runner apparently decided to leap on his friends back in order to dance more uniquely. He left his feet. The ceiling above the stage was rather low (this being a temporary O Club) and the young Marine misjudged the height requirement of his leap. Just as he reached his target (his friend's back) his forehead contacted a beam. He managed to hold on to his friend (who didn't stop dancing; leading me to wonder if this was all planned) but he was pretty well stunned. Remember that he was already fairly anesthetized; so the dance went on while blood poured down his face from the gash in his forehead. The singing sisters took one look, stopped in mid sentence and fled. The band played on until the USO manager came out to say that the show had ended. No one seemed upset and I heard ma ny of the Marines say it was one of the better shows they had seen in DaNang.

It was the greatest O Club show I ever saw.

Alan Gaines

470.

In 1969 I was on my second cruise flying F-8's in VF-51 on the Bon Homme Richard and ready to do my duty bagging a few Migs. But, alas, Washington had called a bombing halt of the North and the fighters were relegated to BARCAPs and photo escorts. It got so bad that someone changed the sign at NAS Miramar to read "Photo Town, home of the Pacific Fleet's Photo Escorts". We all looked forward to our breaks between line periods and Cubi was always fun. One day we got a message saying that there was a new room at the Cubi Point Officers' Club that needed a name. All were encouraged to enter the contest and the winner(s) would get to attend the opening ceremonies at the club. To my total amazement, a VF-114 F-4 pilot on the Kitty Hawk and I "won" with the name "Tailhook Room". At the appointed time, I helo'ed over to the Hawk from Bonnie Dick and rode it to Cubi for the festivities. As I remember, the opening ceremonies were conducted during the day with all the decorum of an afternoon tea at the Admiral's residence. A Navy photographer was on hand to record the event and everyone looked spiffy in his or her summer whites. CTF-77 Admiral Isaman, the F-4 pilot and I had on our Sh_t Hot flight suits. After some appropriate words dedicating the new Tailhook Room, Admiral Isaman was invited to take the first cat shot. The description of the setup is mostly correct. The cockpit was equipped with a control stick that lowered the hook to hopefully catch the single arresting wire. The hook had a snubber so it took some time to drop. If you dropped the hook too early, it would come down but be reset by a ramp (or rubber bumper) with no time to drop again before riding over the wire. If you dropped it too late, the hook didn't have enough time to come down and again you would mis s the wire. The consequences were that the cockpit would continue out the door and into the "drink". As I remember, the ramp was removed for the admiral, thus assuring that he would catch the wire and be the first enshrined on the Wall of Fame. The F-4 jock was next. They replaced the ramp to up the ante, but he (luckily) also caught the wire. The PAO photographer was frustrated at this point because he had been in position by the pool waiting for the shot of the guy who missed. So, you guessed it. One of the senior officers came up to me and whispered "you're going to get wet for the pictures". (See attached). After the dunking, the ceremonies were declared over and I went back to the BOQ for some dry clothes. That night, the club was filled with Kitty Hawk folks and the cat shot was a popular attraction. I came back to Cubi during my 3rd cruise in 1972-73. By that time the walls were covered with names of those who had ridden the shot to a successful trap. Within a year, the attraction faded and the Tailhook Room turned into a storage area. C'est la vie.

Jack Musitano

471.

For your info, a number of years ago a gent walked into my office at the National Museum of Naval Aviation and introduced himself as the OinC of the construction of Red Horses' cat shot. He was the AIMD Officer at NAS Cubi Point at the time as I remember the story. Unfortunately, I don't recall the gents name. At the end of the conversation, he produced what was said to be the original plans for the cat shot, and I have no reason to believe that they were not. After he left I passed the plans on to Bob Rasmussen, Museum Director, with the comment that it sure would be fun to recreate the device. On second thought we decided that there wasn't enough money in the world to fund adequate libability insurance to allow the shot to be made "public". Too bad, I recall taking something like 14 shots one night while serving as XO of VF-142 before my JO's finally took pity on me and let me trap. Those were the days.I haven't asked Bob, but I suspect that the plans still resid e in the Museum archives.

Skip Furlong

472.

I joined VMF-334 in Oct. of '58, a brand new nugget from Kingsville...I remember checking in to the squadron and being met by a Capt. who sort of grabbed my records out of my hand and asked me what kind of grades I had in flight school...I stammered that I was sort of average and this Capt. let out a roar that average students didn't belong in that squadron...astonishingly enough, I survived, even though we lost about ten a/c during my tenure. I also have a lot of stories from that time, many of which star "Prince Hal"....How many of them should I put out General?
I should add that Hal Vincent was a tin god in my mind for the next several months....he was a pretty good stick.....

Mike Wadsworth

473.

Duke Windsor was chief projects of Flight Test 1955-56 time frame. He and the other Marine (Lynn Helms) in the Flight Test Flying qualities and performance office went out on the initial YF8 eval. They found an airplane that didnt have a wing lock as the contractor said the wing would stay down under any flt. circumstances. Both Lynn Helms and Duke said nothing doing--put in a positive wing lock and that is how it came to be. When Lynn resigned, as a Major, I got the YF8 project, and when I left Maj. Tim Keane got it, and was killed about a month later in a PIO on takeoff! Duke also flew the F11F with the J79 engine, and most of the other planes in Flight Test. He later got the Independance, and was a Golden Eagle. Lynn later became head of the FAA. Also in the office of 10 were several others who flew my F8 during test. i.e. Al Shepard, Don Engen (also head of FAA), Tom Gallagher, Hank Hancock, Tom Hayward (CNO later), Gordo Gray, and Laurie Heyworth.. Bill Lawrence, and Bill Botts. Wonderful people and wonderful Flight Test flying. Just after I left for our first F8 squadron at El Toro, Bob Elder took over flight test. He and others went out on the first YF8U3 vs the YF4B eval , which is a story in itself.

Hal Vincent

474.

Around 1958 there was both the Marines first West coast F8 squadron VMF (AW) 334, and the Marines first F4D squadron, VMF (AW) 53l. The com petition at happy hour was awesome. The F4D had made all the world records on time to climb etc. One happy hour someone came up with the idea of a side by side climb to 10,000 and to the "CONS", It was agreed that both a/c would line up on 7 left and right at MCAS El Toro, Ca. and at the count of 1,2,3, GO by the F8 pilot, both pilots would take off! The goal to be`first to 10,000 feet and first to the cons. Background: The F8 squadron launched a F8 early to determine the CONS level. The F8 pilot put just enough fuel in to reach this level, plus a little in the tips, so he could dump before the cons to "simulate" the cons. The F8 pilot, with time in the F4D, knew the F4D could not hold its brakes above about 89% power! It would just skid above this power. He also knew it took 3 seconds plus to get a burner light! Planes lined up on runway 7 left and right. The entire base was out including reps and pilots from both squadrons. All expected the F4D to win, as it should, with its highter T/W. The F8 pilot said 1,2,3, GO, but at the 1, selected A/B. At GO he achieved full A/C. The F4D had to add full power, and selected A/B etc. When he saw he was behind he pulled his airplane in the air early, and with his very high induced drag and friction drag just hung there. The F8 accelerated to best climb speed and passed the F4D before 1000 feet. The F8 easily beat the F4D to 10,000. The F8 continued and dumped tip tanks about 3000 feet before the cons. All thought the F8 beat but to this day we dont know as the pilots were "canopy to canopy" at the cons. I guess this just goes to show that like every fighter pilot "winning isnt everything--its the only thing!!!" The F8, flown right, could beat anyone. What a
plane.!!!

Hal Vincent

475.

Another combat day in Viet Nam and Turkey was waiting to be launched. There   was a problem with the aircraft in front of him, so they pulled it off the cat and put Turkey in his place.

He wound it up, gave the salute and waited for the launch. He felt it start to go . . then nothing. His aircraft was moving down the deck . . but no acceleration. He pulled the power and was on the brakes . . shut it down . . then found himself teetering over the leading edge of the flight deck. He felt the Crusader rocking
with each movement of the ship as he talked to the Air Boss. Air Boss told him to stay in the cockpit . . that they were trying to hook his aircraft to a tug . . and that several sailors were trying to hold his tail down to change his tilting aircraft's center of gravity until it was safely hooked up.

The ship rocked with another swell. And over he went, falling down toward the water below. As it fell, the aircraft rolled on its side. Turkey recalls that he could   now see the ship's bow plowing through the water. He didn't know which was worse . . seeing the water coming up at him . . or seeing the carrier slicing through the water toward him.

When he'd been teetering over the bow, he'd thought of ejecting. However, he was worried about being run over by the ship. But now he was in the water and he felt sick as the bow of the carrier hit his F8U. He was sure he was a member of the living dead. And was just along for the ride.

He remembers the hit, and the terrible ' snap' as the ships bow broke his aircraft     in two, just behind his cockpit. Turkey now realized that he was still alive and that he was sealed inside the Crusader's cockpit module. The water was so clear and   he could see all of the ship's bottom as he was bounced and bobbed along. He remembers every bob and hit along the ship's bottom as chunks of his cockpit's plexiglas were gouged out by ; the barnacles on the carrier's hull.

He was thinking he might come out of this alive, as fear struck him again when
he saw the ship's screws spinning like hell. And he was heading straight for them.

The sound of the screws was terrifying. He now visualized being chewed up as he felt a sudden surge of speed bringing him closer closer to the screws . . knowing
he was being sucked into the vortex created by them. He continued accelerating
and watched in horror as he passed through the screws themselves. Miraculously,
he was unharmed.

Disoriented and rolling violently in the screws wake, he suddenly saw the sun and noticed he was bobbing on the ocean's surface. He said his heart rate was so fast he could feel his heart thumping in his chest. He tried to do so something to get out but he couldn't control his shaking hands. He tried several times to blow the canopy but didn't have the hand coordination needed. Until his third try.

He blew the canopy and immediately realized he'd made a mistake as the cockpit capsule filed with water. Then sank. Going down fast. About 35 to 40 feet beneath the surface, he extracted himself from the cockpit .

When he got to the surface he was greeted by a helicopter and a rescue swimmer who jumped out of the helicopter to give save him. During the helicopter ride, Turkey said he couldn't thank GOD enough . . and praised the Lord all the way
back to the ship.

They got him on the ship and to the Doc. And Turkey recalls a comical but serious moment when the first thing that came out of his mouth was : " You can bet your sweet ass that next time I won't blow that f___ canopy > > hahahahahaha ! " . . Like one day all of this might happen to him again.

via Russ Bortnem & others

476.

The Dubious Test Hop: In 1963, while on the Bingo Crew at NAS Cubi Pt., we had just completed a major check on an F-8A. As is normally done after a check we washed the airplane prior to the post-check test hop. The test hop was flown by our trusted/certified test pilot, a grizzled twice-passed-over LCDR. The hop lasted a good hour, and upon his return the pilot certified the a/c as ready to return to the USS Hancock, which was operating in the South China Sea.

The shuttle pilot, going back the Hancock, soon saddled up and got ready to launch. He taxied out to the duty runway with his canopy open to catch the breeze in the tropical heat. Since everything worked as advertised (so far) he lowered/locked his canopy and began to power up for takeoff. Feeling a bit warm he turned on the a/c. Mistake! The pressurization system didnt vent and he felt immediate painful pressure until the automatic cabin pressure dump valve opened.

So we watched him slowly roll back to the VF-211 line. In our collective disappointment, all the maintenance guys watching the aborted launch began to wonder, Whose system went down? and Did I do anything wrong? Maintainers had a lot of pride in doing things right. When the a/c finally parked and shut down we met the pilot and asked what was wrong. After a few choice words he cooled down and told us the problem.

Since I was the AME responsible for a/c and pressurization I started checking things out. When things like this happen the first thing you do is to make sure the vent port for the cabin pressure regulator is open and free of debris. In this case it wasnt. I found the culprit! It was a small piece of masking tape still covering the vent port to keep the water out during the wash job.

The perplexing thing is how could the plane captains and the pilots pre-flight inspections have missed such an obvious discrepancy? And further, a bigger question is: How could the test pilot certify the a/c as ready for service? His check sheet even had the a/c operating normal. Maybe he was one of the old breed who came from the Navy of wooden ships and iron men. A lot of Crusader drivers were like that. A tough crowd!

Roger Wenschlag

477.

I was assigned to the Flight Test flying qualities branch (Marion Carl's old branch for two tours) after I completed Test Pilot School in 1955. There were ten pilots in the office -- all very well qualified test pilots. As it turned out Marion was smarter than all of us, though. We ten flew all the latest and newest a/c to evaluate for flying qualities, performance, etc.
Two of the a/c we evaluated were the F3H Demon and the F4D Skyray -- both high performance all weather fighters in direct competition. Everyone in the office preferred the nice flying F3H. It flew lik a dream, went through mach 1 nicely, had long range, etc. The F4D flew like a truck! Terrible trim changes starting about .94 mach, a lousy fire control system that didn't work, and extremely bad dihedral (one had to use one's foot to balonce the terrible adverse yaw) in a turn. But the performance watered our eyes on climb out. WOW!

Marion stopped by our office, sat at the desk next to mine in his flight suit, pulled out a drawer, and asked about the status of the test programs. I briefed him on all the a/c, and told him how we favored the F3H over the F4D. He listened and then said: "Hal. we pilots in flight test sometimes don't give credit to the fleet pilots. I personally always go with the a/c with the performance, and all else can be fixed." What a put down! Interesting that soon after that the F3H went to the all weather branch of Sevice Test, where when flying through the soup the shroud seized around the engine, the blades cut up the shroud, and they had to trim the blades a couple of times, which further reduced the already marginal thrust. The F4D, on the other hand, went to the Marines, a LtCol Tony Nolette USMC fixed the fire control system, a TCC (Trim Change Compensator) helped, and the pilots loved it!!!! Marines can fly anything! M arion was right! Some highly qualified pilots in our office, including a Lt Tom Hayward, who would become CNO, a Maj Lynn Helms, who would become head of the FAA, a LtCdr Don Engen, later a vice admiral and also head of the FAA, a Lt Dick Gordon, later an astronaut, a Lt Billy Lawrence, later a POW, and several ship COs, Admirals, Generals, etc. were all wrong! Of all of us, Marion knew more, and I and others highly respect his combat, test, and operational expertise.

Hal Vincent

478.

Marion Carl was my group C.O. in MAG-33 at El Toro. We had just received our new swept wing F9F-6's in VMF-311. I got a call on a typical overcast Saturday morning that Col. Carl wanted to take one of the new planes for the weekend. He also wanted someone to show him how to start it.

He showed up at the flight line with his dress blues in a hanging bag. He put the hanging bag in the nose, climbed into the cockpit and had me show him the start procedures. Weather was about 400 overcast, light rain. Off he went. I went over to base ops to see where he was headed. Portland, Oregon. FAM 1 & 2 in the soup all the way there and back. Portland was about the same weather as El Toro. He was undoubtedly the most gifted pilot I ever knew and you and I knew quite a few along the way.
=======
Marion Carl flew more than 250 types of airplanes. During his test days there were generally no handbooks, but with his skill he tested them all, even occasionally having someone, sometimes a plane captain, show him how to start a new model.

One time he invited myself and another mutual friend to come down to Montgomery AFB, where he was going to war college. Time was l958--We took off from El Toro, in 2 F8U-1's, and headed for Montomery. Wx beautiful. Good tail wind.

When we got part way we figured we might have a chance to make it all the way. Over Dallas, we decided to go for it, figuring 400 # at Montgomery. Any less, any place enroute, for a fuel remaining figure would cause us to "go short". We made it "no sweat". We were privileged to have dinner as Marion's guest that night, at the club. I had left my shoes in the locker at El Toro and had to wear my flight boots to the club that night. Edna Carl asked me to dance and I was afraid I would step on her toes but as you say, what could a junior officer say?

Wx for the next day was forecast to be on the fairly grim side. But that still didn't stop Marion from asking me if he could fly my F8. Of course, as any dumb JO would, I said "yes."

Next day, with wx 800 overcast, light rain, and solid goo all the way to 40,000', I showed him how to get the U-bird started. He told me to sit by the radio in ops and if he had any questions, he'd call me.

He took off with a slew of Air Force jocks watching the departure of this new high performance plane (remember how s-hot the 8 was in 1958). Marion lifted it off, and cleaned it up as impressively as only an 8 in burner could be, and then quickly disappeared into the klag. Made me feel damn proud to see him go. Only a minor "career in deep kimshee" twinge occurred.

No word on the radio for about an hour. Finally, I gave in and asked, "how goes it Colonel?" He reported no problems, everything was fine and he was, in fact, headed back. By then the entire base had heard about the new "go fast" fighter plane in town. And of this crazy Marine who was up on FAM 1 in the proverbial goo that had most other stuff sitting on the ground.

He made his let-down, a high speed pass (you could get away with it in those days), a high g break, and followed with a perfect landing. Me and my bud, who had flown down with me, were really very proud of him - most particularly in front of the USAF crowd.

What a heck of an aviator and a true lifelong friend who is certainly missed by all his friends!!!

Anonymous, via Jack Finley

479.

The AGM 12 BULLPUP was fired in combat by Lcdr Gail Bailey of VF 53 flying an F8E on an alpha strike in Nov 1965 against an NVN power plant scoring a direct hit.

Robair Mohrhardt

480.

I fired a BullPup somewhere around 1963 in VMA(AW)242 at Cherry Point. The Skipper (BGen Hal Berge) and I fired at an old sunken ship target, and I missed! I think the reason I was picked is that I had the best CEP on the little "Pin Ball Machine" type training device in the Ready Room. The Skipper's bird went flawlessly and hit the ship right where he said he wanted to hit it. I got lined up, pickled and never heard such a loud SWOOSH, as it headed for the ship. I tried to raise it up to the right trajectory, and either I over controlled or it went "helix" which we were told that could happen. It just flew all over theEastern Seaboard before finally diving into the sound, somewhere around 6 o'clock 500 feet. Oure squadron ordnance guys were not unhappy with me in that they did their job--it got to the target and fired. I wasn't very popular with the BullPup Tech Rep, but stuck to my story that it went helix. Those two missles were pro bably the entire live fire inventory for the whole U.S. Marine Corps.
Regarding the BullPup on the F8. I never saw one in (two squadron's) ordnance inventory, nor do I remember seeing anything about how to deliver it in the classified "How To Drop Bombs" manuals. One of those great models put out by Chance-Vought on the F8E did show a BullPup on one of the wings.

Lou Pritchett

481.

I know nothing about the F-8 carrying the bullpup, but I fired several from the A-4 in 'Nam. There were two sizes - the "A", a 500#er and the "B", I think it was a 1000#er. They were guided with a coolie-hat button on the stick, next to the trim button. The Scooter squadrons had a Mickey-Mouse trainer in each ready room to practice with. The trainer was of little use, of course. I fired several small ones on training hops, and it was sorta like a zuni coming off the rails. The guidance system sent a signal to the missile when the button was activated, left, right, up, or down. It had a flare on the back, and the idea was to keep the flare centered on the target. It took continual "up" signals to keep the thing on course. My first go with a big one was for real against a NVA PT boat. When I pushed the red button there was a flash, a tremendous roar, and I went IFR in black smoke. When I regained my senses the bullpup was WAY low and going like the dickens. I layed down on the coolie button, and after a couple of seconds I noticed that the bullpup was still diving for the water, but it took both hands on the stick to keep the A-4 nose down. Yep, you guessed it. The A-4 trim button was a coolie hat as well, and I had my thumb on the wrong one. By the time I got the correct control going the 'pup looked to be pretty well beyond salvage, so I activated the guidance button to nose up and just held it there. It responded, and must have been pulling mucho 'g' as it neared the water. It hit the PT boat right at the water line, and the boat sank within minutes.

Moral of the story: sometimes it's better to be lucky than good!

Our squadron (the Blue Hawks of VA-72) fired quite a few, mostly Bullpup B's (the big one), on my '65 cruise. Don't know about the rest of the airwing (CVW-7).

Johnny Bittick

482.

Re: Bullpup...I got blessed into the Crusader cockpit as a Reservist, after 3+ operational years in A-4s...including a 1966 WestPac cruise. Fired two 'Pups in anger...one SE of Nam Dihn and one over Hanoi. Both worked fine...guided well...and went boom. Didn't like the requirement to stay in the dive to guide it, especially over Hanoi. Easy target for the bad boys on the ground. Knocked out an 85mm in Hanoi which was shooting at my section ldr who was guiding a 'Pup to a SAM site. We got 'em both (SAM and 85), but both of us get sorta nervous in the process. Luckily, had lots of extra skivies...

Tim Cook

483.

I was in GMU-41, subordinated to VX-4 in 1959-60. We worked the Bullpup project. It was a kick to fire and fly. Besides my small part, Jeff Harpe (USMC), Deke Forbes plus others of VX-4 were involved with the developmental firings. We fired it from A-4s and FJs. I doubt any of us fired it in combat. My understanding, however, is that it was used a few times in the early days of the war. Hazy memory seems to dredge up VA-212. Regardless, I can assure you of some genuine thrills when the small Pup left the rails and the rush when the big one fired after dropping clear. My model of the A4D-5 (later A4E) which sits on my side table, has Bullpups hanging on the outer stations. Hope this helps. Thanks for all the info you pass to us.

Jim Tyson

484.

I didn't use the bullpup on the F8...in my A4 days VMA 533 had them on deployment at Rosy Roads....we all qualified on the practice machine until we could hit the target, then went over to the range target to shoot them...I think everyone got a shot.... The rest is all from memory (1964) so treat it as such. The set up was 15000'...roll in shallow angle, probably 10 deg. Boy, when the thing came off the centerline rail it was memorable....it was loud, shook the little Skyhawk, and dropped about 20 kt off the airspeed...the flares on the tail became visible almost immediately below the nose and the target....the wafer switch, or beeper switch, whatever, was on the stick..by clicking it up and down, or right and left, you could hold the flares right on the target until it hit. Seems like we pulled off about 5000' or so Best memory I have is we had an old white refrig. on one of the little island targets....one of the guys, I think maybe Dick Bowman?, put one right thru it...Nice thing was you could literally hit a slow moving target just by keeping the flares on the target until impact....I don't remember anyone not getting an E.

Bill Cason

485.

I was a mainly A-4 driver; flew the F8H only in the reserves in New Orleans (and Miramar on summer active duty).

In my active duty days, we flew A4E's over NVM in the second half of 1966. I don't know anything about the history of the Bullpup, except that it fell from grace pretty fast after actual combat experience. The Walleye turned out to be a much better deal.

Short war story: Having never been given a training hop with the AGM-12 prior to deployment ( On CVA-42), there it was on my sked for a combat hop. The target was a rinky-dink bridge that could have been dropped by a good section Crusader 20mm run. The way you controlled the thing was a "beeper" switch, like the trim on most airplanes, other than the F-8. So, anyway, there I am, clueless; pickle the thing (I recall it weighed about 750 pounds); big thump, it starts down, unguided. I franticly give it lots of up "beeps", to which it responds by flattening out for an extended glide to an impact 200 meters short of the point intended landing. So AFTER I get back to the ship, some of the guys who had actually been trained on the thing said it always does that; you have to hold down the "Up" beeper for the first ten seconds after launch to have any chance.

Of course, this was my only and the squadron's (VA-72) one of three total experiences with the "Pup". As you probably recall, it didn't matter; the important thing was "tons delivered over the beach" to make Mr. McNamara happy. Another victory for the good guys !

(The guidance for the follow-on Walleye was lock-on the crosshairs on a little TV screen, which was really our radar - then forget it type of guidance. Mucho better.)

This isn't much help for your research, I'm sure; just a little folk tale from Bullpup land.

Ed ("Mud") Moir

486.

The time and place was MCAS Beaufort, S.C. in the early '60's. I was returning from a test hop in my F-8 and had just entered the "break" when a squadron-mate commenced his T/O roll. As I watched his roll, I noticed an abnormal burner flame pattern and several large puffs of smoke. Since he was a Captain and I was a lowly 1st Lt, I hesitated before keying the mike; however, the tower didn't hesitate one bit and informed him that he had a problem. To make a long story short, he staggered into the air and started dumping fuel in a long circular approach back to the runway. I joined on him and watched his airplane cough, stall, spit out flames and smoke, then accelerate rapidly before decelerating almost as rapidly. Flying formation on him was a real challenge and far too difficult for a junior officers; however, I stayed with him in absolute amazement as he made a flawless approach and sputtered down the runway.The problem!!!! He and the plane captain had overlooked the duct cover in their preflight. It had been laying sideways in the intake and, upon engine start, was sucked up against the CSD in a semi-horizontal position. The shifting position of the cover in flight gave him marginal throttle control and, as you can imagine, it also was enough to turn an orange flight suit a camouflage color. The most surprising thing was absence of any FOD or real damage to the cover.He would be most embarrassed to read this so he will remain nameless.

Phil "Thunder" Hinkle

487.

Here is a little known survival tactic. I was surveying some old work clothes the other day, a pair of green fatigues that many of us wore before they came out with the green nomex (most of the issue flight suits were still orange or tan). The right front pocket of the fatigue pants had a knife cut in it. I had filled my Zippo lighter the night before and had it in my pocket. Launched from the Coral Sea (RF-8, 1967) and about 10K felt this painful burning on my leg. The Zippo was overflowing and the fluid was burning my leg. The torso strap prevented access to the pocket so I took the old orange-handled shroud cutter from the the pocket on the shoulder, cut the pants pocket open and retrieved the lighter. Post flight revealed ablister from the lighter fluid. Moral of the story: don't throw awayanything for at least 30 years.

Jay Miller

488.

AF Col. Marshal L. Mitchel III wrote the book "Clashes." He was an F4 pilot and credits Navy F8 pilots from the carrier Hancock with helping in a tactics exchange the 432 TRW at Udorn to fly air to air missions in about 1972. He stated that the Navy F8 pilots were appalled by the AF tactics and formations and the AF F4 crews lack of skill in ACM. AND, that was their primary mission. He quotes an F8 pilot as stating" the contest between the F4 and our F8 pilots was so uneven at first we were almost ashamed of the disparity" The F8 pilots believed that the AF pilots needed basic instruction, not just training missions because they were "Sparrow tuned."

After training exchange the author credits the Navy F8 pilots for improving the AF fighter tactics. The results of the training was funneled up AF channels.

Tom Rochford

489.

The guys that went to the AF to 'help' them with ACM were led by John Nichols. John told me the whole story. Somewhere I have the names of the guys that went with John but I don't know where it is (CRS) (the painting I did of John's Mig kill that he signed is suposed to be hanging in the Admin Bldg at Oceana) John said those AF guys REALLY needed ACM training. They were not well liked at first by the AF ,but ,BUT !! they soon got the message!!

Bill Northup

490.
THE LOST MODEL

Chance Vought had a beautiful scale model of the F-8 CRUSADER made and presented to one of the first F-8 Squadrons. No one seems to know, nor can I find record of which squadron was first presented this beautiful model. It was about 8 feet long and 6 feet from wing tip to wing tip. Made from the finest wood, and painted Navy colors, it was a beauty to behold.
Somehow VF-32 had this model in their possession. I first came in contact with it on a Mediterranean cruise in 1964. I was in VF-62, Air Group 10, aboard the USS Shanrgi-La, CVA 38. VF-32 was on board the USS Saratoga, in the Mediterranean at the same time. There was a Fleet Conference called for the Task Force. These two Aircraft Carriers and many support ships anchored off the coast of France for this big Fleet Conference. Since the Saratoga was much larger than the Shangri-La it was decided that the conference would be held on board the Saratoga. Therefore, Officers from other ships would take the small officer boats, over to the Saratoga for the meeting. It was decided that all Fighter types would meet in the ready room of VF-32 on board the Saratoga.

As we walked into VF-32 ready room we saw was the big, beautiful F-8 CRUSADER Model suspended in the overhead. It was secured by a large cable hanging from the ceiling. Banked in about a 30 degree left turn about 7 feet above the deck, it looked stunning. CDR Barber, the skipper of VF-32, was the host skipper for the conference and he told everyone present, with delight, how his squadron had stolen this model from another F-8 squadron and no one, no way, would ever be able to take this model from them. I was setting next to my skipper, CDR Phil Craven, when this boast was made. I leaned over to CDR Craven and said, "skipper I'll get that model tonight if you will give me the OK." He just grinned and said, "get it Ron." That's all I needed to hear. The plan started to cultivate in my mind.
Soon the conference was over and we all headed back to our respective ships. We had used the officers liberty boat to make the journey over to the Saratoga. This boat was covered and not very suitable for carrying large objects. However, the enlisted whale boats were open and very large. As we came along side our home, the USS Shangri-La, the thought hit me that we needed one of these whale boats to bring the F-8 Model back to our squadron, once we had relieved VF-32 of their prized possession.

After arriving back on board the Shangri-La I told my plan to three other Lieutenants in my squadron. Al Moore, Bill Worley, Jim Brady and myself set the plan in motion. At mid-night we went to the Quarter Deck watch officer of the Shangri-La and told him there was talk of an emergency sortie being called before daybreak. We desperately needed a whale boat to take us over to the Saratoga to pick up some essential aircraft parts so that we would be ready for this emergency sortie. He was more than accommodating. He gave us the boat and a good crew to make the journey.
When we arrived at the Saratoga, we requested permission to come aboard and told the same story to that watch officer. He was very cooperative and let us come on board with our tool box. No one knew we had a large lock cutter in that box. This was the very thing we needed to cut the large cable holding the F-8 Model.

Ready Room Commandos man the ready room at all times. VF-32 was no exception. These young enlisted men answer the phone, pick-up messages and are used as security guards for the Ready Room after flight operations secure. We positioned ourselves near the ready room and found a phone. I called these Ready Room Commandos on the phone and told them that I was the Main Communications Officer and their squadron had received an emergency TOP SECRET message. It must be picked up immediately, "I said." We knew there were two men in the ready room, so I requested that at least two men were required to sign for this high priority message. These poor fellows almost ran over us en route to Main Communications which was several decks away from the ready room. Of course as soon as they departed we went into the ready room with the lock cutters armed for action. In a very few minutes the beautiful F-8 Model was in the hands of Fighting Sixty-Two.

We wrapped a large white sheet around the model and departed in haste. No questions were asked by the Officer of the Deck when we hurried by his station. We quickly ran down the ladder, jumped into our whale boat and headed back to the Shangri-La. Mission complete by 0200.

The next morning, when everyone arrived for the All Officers Meeting, there were shouts of cheer in our ready room. This F-8 model looked more stunning anchored overhead Fighter Squadron Sixty-Two's ready room than in the spaces of Fighter Squadron Thirty-Two. CDR Craven was ecstatic. That is until he received a call from CAG.

It became very apparent that CDR Barber, of Fighting Thirty-Two, found no amusement in this exercise at all. He was hot. Changing the home address of this model was not at all favorable with the good Commander. Our squadron received at least 10 messages, before 1000, demanding the return of said model. The good Commander started an investigation on just how this immoveable object could have possibly departed his quarters. The Quarter Deck watch said, "Some pilots from the Shangri-La had taken something off during the night wrapped in a white sheet that looked like a cross."

"Finders keepers," not so in this case. CDR Barber was having a change of Command in Naples in a few weeks and he had told everyone, including several Admirals, that this model was going to be displayed at that event. Now the poor Commander had no model to display. Embarrassment was the predicament of the day. The message traffic continued for several days for the embezzled model. Finally, CDR Craven elected to return the model, but we did so in style. It was placed on the port CAT of the Shang and photographed. CDR Craven acted as the CAT Officer in this dramatic scene. The model was then placed on board a COD and flown back to the Saratoga.
In later years it was taken again by VF-62 at Cecil Field, Florida. Then I planned another mission and took it from VF-62 to my new squadron, VF-174, the F-8 RAG. VF-62 stole it back from VF-174 and it was never seen again. We were told that CDR Hal Terry, Skipper of VF-62, took it to his home? DOES ANY ONE KNOW THE WHEREABOUTS OF THE FAMOUS F-8 CRUSADER MODEL?

Ron Knott

488.

I was in VF-32. CAG-3 from 1961 to 1964 and Gary Dillard was a member of our squadron. We normally deployed on the USS Saratoga and I suspect that is the boat here. To say that Gary was one of the most colorful pilots that I have ever known would be a gross understatement. Gary's exploits were legendary (in and out of the aircraft) and far too numerous for me to go into here.
He left the Navy in 1965-66 and unfortunately was killed in a motorcycle accident in Miami, FL in the 70's. He was a fine stick and throttle guy but a little short in the headwork/decision processes. Every squadron should have been issued JUST ONE of him. ,

Bo Stanley

489.

Gary Dillard was a VSH bug in the RAG, VF 174 and came to VF 32 and did well. A little bit crazy, one happy hour night we decided to have a Grand Prix race from the Cecil O'club to the club at Navy JAX, via 103rd st (Is it still the 103rd, Jim Brady?) Anyway, at 100+ mph it didn't take long to get there, but Dill took a bolter in the parking lot across the street and wound up in a water trap on the golf course. He came into the bar a bit late, wet, ( his 56 Chevy ragtop didn't float) and we continued the party. Plan was to get the sinker out of the pond at first light and sneak away, but alas the tow truck didn't arrive until the first foursome was at the green. Which had as it's senior member COMFAIRJAX. You just can't buy experience like that.

As an aside, the early selection process for the RA5 program put some old AJ pilots in the pipeline, with the majority being A3 traansition folks. Later it became apparent that the best drivers were those with super skills and coordination, thus the program picked up some Crusader greats the likes of Hoser.

The Viggie came aboard at about the same gross weight as the F4 on a cat shot, with the same engines. 50000# max gross trap weight, basic weight with the PECM gear was about 48K. Not much wiggle room on the fuel, no diverts. At 140+ every landing was cause to check the A/G runout. The Viggie was famous for loosing lights, and at night when the RA5 calls the ball with one green light I can tell you that it gets lonely on the platform. We managed to complete the deployment incident free save one main tire blow out.

Back then the Sara/Wing 3, CAGs were J R Sanderson/Grover (Bull) Walker. The Phantom CO was John Wissler, the Supersonic Swordsman CO was Al Barber, thenJohn Barrow I think. Wing LSO's were Earnie Laib, TR Swartz, then Jim Flatley. Rod Carter had VA 36, remember, he later met the grim reaper in the Oriskony fire. VA 34's Lt. Tom Taylor, who became a Zumwalt bobby sox CO in the A7, was the the schedules guy in the Blue Blasters, and put me on the A4 flight schedule when I wasn't on the platform or flying the F4 or the F8. Maintaining currency in 3 birds, CVA ops, was a piece of cake IF you remembered that the left hand wants to do something during TOs and landings. I managed to put the hankie out downwind in the F4 only once, no sweat, just dump it. And trying to stay cool short of the cat in the Scooter I had the canopy cracked for cooling, and didn't check it prior to the shot. Rod Carter reamed me a new one for bringing it back on the rudder.

TR Swartz

490.
Gary,"The Wild Man" Dillard went through VF-174 at Cecil in 1962 along with R.J. Knott, Fred Compton, and I. We all lived at the BOQ and Gary was famous for his wild exploits including:

1. Riding a bicycle around the ledge on the second floor of the BOQ.
2. Making a burner, dirty roll on takeoff while in VF-32....HACK!
3. I believe he married the deceased CO's wife some time after the CO died in a ramp strike accident on the Saratoga.

I do believe Gary left the service after his first tour and I have no further information on him, but he was a genuine "piece of work".

Jim Brady

491.

I was aboard the USS Ticonderoga in 1966 and 1967. I was attached to CAG19 under Commander Billy Phillips and Lieutenant Commander F.G. Fellowes. He used to storm into the CAG office on the Tico after he came back from a mission. Was mad and throwing things around one time. I asked what was wrong. He told me he had his chance at a MIG and couldn't get it. Said he chased it all the way to Red China before he had to call it off. Wish he would have gotten it. I am saddened to hear of his demise. He was a great man and credit to his uniform and to mankind.

Jim Couch, YN3

492.

I once heard a description from a Jack Snyder fan which I agree with. He's got the balls of Billy Phillips and the class of Cary Grant. My favorite story happened in 1966 when Jack (CAG 5 call sign "Badman") was leading a group of VF-53 Crusaders to Yuma for a gunnery shoot and wing practice grope. Sitting on the throat to 24 right at Miramar he counted heads and saw he was short one. Calls on squad commons went like this, "Firefighter 212 where the hell are you?". "Badman, I'm still in the chocks.". "Whats your problem?". "Can't get oxygen". (Badman's very irritated reply, "Get your ass out here! You don't need oxygen to fly to Yuma!". I always remembered that and tried to adopt that philosophy. Actually, there were lots of things you didn't need to fly to Yuma.
Jack was one of the most famous sandbaggers at Pax River on the golf course. Think he carried a 10 or so. I can't remember ever winning a nickle from him and I tried hundreds of times.
Jack held the record for SDO scalps at Miramar. As Cag he'd call one of the VF SDOs from the club and order him over. After putting the unfortunate guy under with stingers, he'd call the squadron CO and tell him he'd just found his SDO drunk in the club. Nobody could drink stingers with Jack. He belongs in the Crusader Hall of Fame and is a permanent resident in the Sierra Hotel.

Bob Heisner

493.

In 1965 I was an Ensign at NKX and had heard many "Billy Phillips" stories, but had never met him. One day I walked into the BOQ and right around the corner behind the check-in desk was a Suite. And on the door was a large sign (18" by 12") that simply said Billy Phillips. There was no rank, no squadron, no anything except his name. I stopped and was just standing there looking at the sign when the door swung open and out charged Billy. He immediately stuck out his hand and said, "Howdy, I'm Billy Phillips". I told him who I was and that I had heard a lot about him. He said, "What". I said, well I had heard that you would bet anyone that they could fly as low inverted as they wanted to and that you would fly under them inverted. He said, "Yep, I would take that bet!!!"

Don Chapman

494.

I well remember taking a fellow pilot (Huey Pierce of VA-12) home with wobbly knees and unstable gyros after a late break-up after happy hour one Friday evening. Gary Dillard and I were the ones who delivered the inebriated A-4 jock home. Martha, Hueys wife, thought that Gary was Ben Walker of VF-62 (my squadron mate) whose wife was about to give birth. Upon our arrival at Huey's home Martha met us at the door like a mad wasp and told Gary just how sorry he was out drinking while his wife was home in labor. She lambasted him for several minutes. At that time Gary was single, but being the troop he was he took the chewing out with grace. He said, Lady l will try to do better and we departed. Several days later I told Martha she had attack the wrong man and she was flabbergasted.
Another time Gary came to the squadron with two black eyes. When asked what caused the damage he said, I was in this place and some one said 'shut-up' and I thought they said stand-up.' Gary won my respect most when he took a Navy widow with children and became a loving husband and father to them. I remember the happy family atmosphere in their home. It is a shame he departed this life so early. Fond memories,

Ron Knott

495.

The airport manager at Bartow, FL, Ben Durrance, was also in the Reserves at JAX, helicopters, Ben knew that I had a successful operation at the Gainesville Airport and asked if I was interested in opening a fueling and service center at Bartow Airport. I was just getting established and told Ben I would need someone at Bartow to "mind the store", preferably with ownership interest.
At that time Gary was recently married, a squadron mate's widow, and I think they just had their first son. Gary was finishing his degree in Math / Physics at J U. Ben was anxious to get the state Fire-ant eradication/control fuel contract for the B17s out of Wheeles airport Dothan AL. The airport would have a good revenue stream from the fuel fees as well as a new tenant The timing looked good for a buy-in, and Gary had some reserves and good credit...This was about April of 1966 to the best of my memory.

Now for the flying, we had an Aero Commander 500, a Cessna 150, a Cessna 182, and a Moony mk 20 C, The first things that Gary wanted to know was, "How fast can this thing go? What is the loop entry speed and what is the spin recovery technique." Of course, on our drill weekend we'd always have a fly-by over our place which was described by various airport tenants and Polk County residences as entertaining. It always included a low level, high speed pass in diamond, then a break with wheels, flaps and hook to a low approach. We'd then join -up dirty; clean-up and go to Eagle Lake where we lived and circle Gary's or my house.
I remember one Saturday evening, Gary and I needed night time so we flew to McCoy and made an approach. I was chasing Gary, and of course, then we headed toward Bartow. But, Gary surprised me as he pointed out a train coming on a long straight stretch of track chugging north from Lakeland. You can see it on the Jax sectional. There is about a 15 to 20 degree bend about halfway to Coleman with dense dense forest all the way. Gary talked me thru gear and flaps up and said, "Watch this!" as he descended. I took a little extra interval and a little step-up, really not knowing what to expect. He finally said he was going to simulate a train in the opposite directon on a collision course. All external lights off. Gary is cranking along about 50 foot altitude between these tall pines I'm stepped up in trail. Then when he is lined up about 15 miles out, headed right at the train's weaving head-lamp, Gary turns on his nose light and rythymically used his rudder to osccilate the nose to keep time with the train's head lamp. Gary vocalized his satisfaction by saying he probably caused some confusion in the engine cab that night.

Bob Babis

496.

All the Reservists in NARTU Jax on a Drill Saturday morning were milling around smartly in the hangar waiting for some bigwigs to show up for some kind of inspection. All dressed up and mumbling to each other about when this thing was going to be over. Finally, all of a sudden we heard a very strong voice: ATTEN..HUT!! We immediately scrambled for a place in line and got to attention. Then, nothing. It was only Gary at his best....
..
Nick Nickerson

497.

On one of his first hops in VF32 he was my wingman. We jumped a Demon and I let Gary have him. He jumped on him with gusto, and at one time I actually feared that he was about to stick the nose of his F8 in the Demon's tailpipe.

During inflight refueling in the Med Gary began fencing with the basket and the basket won. It shattered his canopy and partially pulled the face curtain out of the seat. He landed back aboard Saratoga with the face curtain flapping in the wind.

Gary would disappear for hours at a time on board the Sara. It was later discovered that he had found an unused space on the ship and had commandeered it for himself. He used the space to build model airplanes.

On one occasion in port someone came to the Ready Room and asked where Gary was. Someone else said he was flying kites off the fantail. I cannot confirm this but I was not surprised.

The skipper designated our Admin Officer, Bill Davis, as DILLARD CONTROL OFFICER. Bill was to shadow Gary and know of his whereabouts at all times. Bill was usually was a calm guy, but I saw him on occasion after that with red face and anger in his voice looking for Gary.

Gary showed up at the Fleet Landing in Mallorca with a black eye. He was reluctant to tell the story.

We lost Bill Harvey in the Fall of '63, and Gary later married his widow. Gary was later, unfortunately, killed in a motorcycle accident. Those of us who knew him have missed him.
These mini stories do not tell a true story of Gary. He was a very likeable, fun loving guy, and a very good F8 driver.

Hall Martin

498.

I had the distinct pleasure to fly with both Jack Snyder and Billy Phillips and to survive their genuine requirements of which pilots should be allowed to continue flying Crusaders. Both had a genuine concern that just because a pilot had managed to get "Winged" did not mean that he could safely fly the Crusader.

Whereas there are those that feel that they would wipe your ass out on the trees if you followed them then they are correct ....if you followed them down without stepping up then .... You should not be there!!!

When I went through Pensacola "Survival Training" in '56 the instructor stated that if we stayed in jets we would eject 1.6 times during our flying careers.

By mid 1960 I had maxed out!!! Two F8s in the drink. The usual investigations were completed and filed. However, Billy Phillips and Jack Snyder somehow arranged an extra board to examine my 2 F8 ejections within 9 months. The board consisted of Billy, Jack, local "Shrink" and maybe "Doc" Townsend.

Billy reviewed the accidents and asked me a few questions and passed it on to Jack Snyder and on we went.

Until well into Second Inquisition ( I do not know until this day who gave these guys authority to conduct a separate investigation)"Shrink" asks if I felt a certain gratification from floating down inthe silk!!!!

Billy jumps up and asks "Shrink" to join him outside the door! Billy returns, never saw "Shrink" again!

And for those skeptics the early F8s did not have a cover over themaster fuel shutoff valve in the cockpit and the valves were programmed toshut down if shorted rather than to remain open. If you remember later master fuel shutoff switches had a cover which was a fix for such failures.

The other ejection was because of the governor failure on the 25000 rpm air turbine drive generator. When the dude turned loose it cut through all sorts of cables. It could also cause smoke in the cockpit which I reported.

At the time many skeptics were energized because you just did not getsmoke in cockpit in an F8. Not long after my OPS officer experienced a similar failure on final at NAS CECIL. Eh Correcto? ROBAIR??

Turned out that newly poured concrete turned out such a fine powder that it rendered governors impotent so the governors failed and we experienced a number of major failures.

I HAVE A GREAT AMOUNT OF RESPECT FOR BILLY AND JACK......

PJ Smith

499.

This memory popped into my head the other day.... In May 1966, I was sent to VF-211 from RAG Instructing, to replace Jerry Unruh so he could practice being a 3-star....I was senior to him at that time! While I was there, Billy Phillips wangled a trip to Hancock from his CAG-19 Stateside...He flew some Missions over the North to get the "feel" of it. I, meanwhile, was "bagged" south of Vinh by 37mm's....on fire etc...ejected 2K yards offshore....Spads saved my ass from the bad guys...a helo from DLG Worden picked me up....later on to Hancock. Longer story for another time. Suffice it to say...I ejected at 450Kts @ 3400ft. The high Q made the air "very fat" and my right kneecap was dislocated. 4 days later we were in Hong Kong. Hal Marr, Paul Speer, Bill Rennie and company hauled me from sickbay to a "Bumbboat" and we went to our suite of rooms in the Hilton. Skipper Marr always said, "there is no hill for a high stepper...and it only costs twice as much to go first-class!" The gist of this story is about Billy Phillips and Jack Snyder, but I needed the prologue.

Once we were back to sea, Skipper Marr said you are useless to us...pack you bags and go to Cubi for some R&R until we can use you.. Aye, Aye Sir! I was sitting at the Cubi Pool when Billy came in and ordered us both a Salty Dog from Esther. You all remember Esther...she moved as slow as molasses, but nice. Billy was killing some time before going back Stateside to learn how to be a CAG. A few Dogs later Billy says..."Hook, let's go to town!" I was still hobbling but, I had a cane, and so it went. We were at the Willows when curfew rolled around. Billy said just one more and then we can make a run for it...I told him I couldn't do more than a fast hobble...So he says, the Ship isn't in anyway, let's get a room at the "Bremerton"...Sounded good to me. We were checking into the Hotel when Billy says..."That SOB!". I say what's up?...He says, "That SOB Jack Snyder signed in as ME!" ...so he signed in as Jack Snyder. I thought cool...and signed in as Bill Rennie.

Hook Miller

500.

I relieved Dick Alderton as ComAirWing 19 in Subic just before the Bonnie Dick's deployment into the Indian Ocean, known as "the First Concord Squadron Cruise" ( never knew exactly what that meant). I was somewhat concerned that I had not worked up with the Wing and did not know many of the pilots in the squadrons. I did know Jack and Billy, however.

At that time there was considerable discussion at AirPac and other high elsewheres as to the advisability of operating the F8U at night from a 27C There had been F8U nite teams but whole squadrons was a different ball of wax. My view was that it would take a lot of leadership and really good pilots and in any event would not be easy. Besides 191 and 194 . there also was the F8U Photo Det. In 191 Jack was C.O., John Dixon X.O., Chuck Dimon, Tom Cawley and others, in 194 Billy had Dick Mosely as X.O., Billy Kuyper and others. Long story short, we kept the entire Air Wing night qualified throuhout the I.O. with no Bingo fields, without a single incident (one photo bird did make 13 passes before trapping one night!!). Can't say it wasn't exciting!! I give Jack and Billy full credit for the leadership it required. Had one hell of a time getting Jack and Billy(and the sqdns) to try the auto throttle that Billy had and the auto stick that Jack had ( think I got that right). Coming back out of the Malacca Straits, Billy Kuyper couldn't trap (daytime) though he was in the wires every time, so we tanked him with A-4's and A-3's as far as they could go and Billy Bingod to Cubi, some 1000+ miles - hook point on backwards( his airplane just out of check, and ,Yes, the F8U hook point was on backwards).

Don Shelton

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