Was hab ich schon zig mal gesagt ?
What have I already said several times?
Entlich sagt es auch ein Deutscher!
Finally a German also says it !

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BDd7420ekQs&NR=1

Tom Weeks writes a gripping tale.
I bow to these guys … I never ran in to this kind of heavy enemy fire in my South Vietnam combat missions.
And I thank God for that!

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Fighter pilot Michael Cooper wrote a great article in the MiG Sweep about a Joint Navy and Air Force Hunter Killer mission to knock out SAM sites near Hanoi on October 31, 1965. I was one of the F-105 pilots on that mission.

And here’s what I remember of that day :

During an F-105D combat tour out of Takhli, Thailand in 1965, Russian SAM (SA-2 Surface to Air Missiles) begun to appear in North Vietnam. Previously, we had driven over our targets unmolested at 18,000 feet to begin a dive bomb attack.

The newly arrived SAM’s canceled out our high altitude sanctuary and forced pilots down low, where anti-aircraft fire was intense.

We begged permission to take out the proliferating SAMs. Before they got to us.

Request was denied. Lyndon feared it might hurt the Russians’ feelings since they provided the SAMs to North Viet Nam.

One day our base commander, a colonel who did not fly combat missions, bravely announced : “ WE ARE GOING AFTER THE SAMs ! ”

Captain Mike Cooper, showing more guts than tact, called out from the back of the room, “ What’s this ‘ WE ’  S____ , Colonel. You goin’ along in the [ two-seater F105 ] F ? “

Getting shot at everyday tends to loosen up one’s military decorum.

Navy LtCmdr Powers landed his A4E at Takhli, carrying his own 500 lb. bombs. Powers was the XO of the USS Oriskany’s VA-164 squadron.

The Navy had sent their very best.  Powers knew this was a big time . . White House directed . . and dangerous.

Takhli scheduled two outstanding Flight Commanders. Mike Cooper would lead a flight of four Thuds from the 334th TFS, with mates : Jim Butler, John Stell and Lee Adams.

Gayle Williams would lead four from the 562nd : [ myself ] Gary Barnhill and two others whose names escape me. Each Thud would carry eight 750 lb. bombs.

This joint Navy/Air Force combat mission briefing was more like a focus group.

Powers wanted to fly across the target level at 50 feet and skip bomb it.

We preferred to dive bomb, using a pop-up from the deck to create a dive bomb run . . made it tougher for the ground gunners to track us.

No sweat, since Powers would be first across the target and out of the way. His flat pass would not conflict with our dive-bombing.

These were called the ‘Dooms Day’ missions . . because invariably someone got shot down from the heavy defenses around Hanoi.

So did our guys shy away from these missions? Are you kidding?

Your best friend would lie, cheat and deceive you . . to get your slot on a ‘Dooms Day’ mission.

Power’s plane had a magic ‘ black ‘ box.  Well . . what passed for magic, circa 1965.

Actually it was similar to the old coffee grinder ADF.  With a needle that would point in the general direction of a SAM site . . when and if it was caught in SEARCH mode.

Operator skill required.

We launched, joined up, refueled and headed North. Only to find a solid overcast at the let down point. A No-Go ?

Or was it ?

Powers ordered the Thuds into a tight nine-ship “V” formation and we descended into cloud.

No one would have criticized him one bit, if he canceled for weather.

He pressed on.

Nearing the target, we finally broke out of cloud and went to the deck. No longer a formation. We were now just a gaggle of bomb-laden Thuds . . strung out in loose single file.

At one point, there were hills on both sides and overcast above . .making sort of a tunnel for us.

During a turn, I was ’slung’ into cloud.

Desperately punching the nose down. I hoped for valley beneath . . not hillside dirt.

I remember focusing my thoughts :

“ I’M NOT GONNA TO MISS THIS MISSION . . FOR ANYTHING ! ”

I flew so low over a guy driving a farm tractor that he leapt to the ground. He was doin’ 2 knots.  We were doin’ 550.

But when they are shooting at you . .

Low is good.

Fast is good.

As we screamed low level towards the target, my plane was hit by small arms fire causing some yellow caution lights to glow.

[ Note: The Thud was well-built. Once, when all Thuds were grounded do to several inexplicably ‘blowing up.’  Someone suggested giving them to the Army for use as ‘tank crushers.’ Taxi a Thud over the top of a tank, collapse its gear and crush the tank. Another joke suggested painting Thuds yellow and using them as giant GPU’s. Rumor was: Republic was going to make the Thud out of cement, until they found out steel was heavier.]

We didn’t know the SAM target’s exact location. We hoped the Navy’s magic black box would point the way.

We were the goats, tethered to lure the lion out into the open for the kill. Until that day, it was a big deal when just one or two SAMs were launched. Now they were firing SAMs like artillery. Fifteen for us, is the number I remember.

It’s what they mean by . . “All Hell’s Broke Loose.”

Powers calmly transmitted : “I’ve got ’em on my nose—starting my run.”

He flew directly over the target at tree top level and was literally disintegrated by withering ground fire.

My turn.

With Powers’ emergency locator beacon screeching in my headset, I lit the burner and popped up to about 7500 feet. As the Thud’s nose came up, I clearly remember saying aloud to myself, “Hey, I  don’t want to do this!”

During that brief dive bomb run, which seemed an eternity, there  was a sharp knocking sound . . like a fist on a door. It was enemy ground fire hitting the Thud. I instinctively shouted into my oxygen mask: “Stop It. Stop it.”

Years later, a VA shrink would explain that utterance was related to the trauma of a severe belt whipping when I was ten. Got my feet wet in the snow on the way home from school. My Dad held me tightly by the wrist and beat my buns and legs with a leather belt. Shrink said I had no evidence that either event was survivable. In both cases, my mind thought I would die. And in both, I pleaded hopelessly.

The anti-aircraft hits caused multiple red and yellow emergency  lights to blink incessantly, I radioed my intention to get to the water off Haiphong before ejecting. Radio chatter was understandably chaotic. Each Thud pilot was individually living his own hell. Each   jinking violently to get away from that unrelenting enemy ground fire.

Alone and doing 810 knots on the deck (that’s right, Buddy, 810 knots) I slowly overtook a Navy F-8 Crusader as if passing a car on the freeway.

We exchanged gentle pathetic waves as if to say  . . “ Oh, hi there, don’t know you, but hope you’re having a nice day?” It was the most surreal moment of my life.

Still on the deck, but now over the safety of the Gulf of Tonkin, a sort of euphoric invincibility set in. If I ejected, the Navy would surely pick me up.

The fire warning light had gone out, so I strafed a couple of North Vietnamese boats capable of capturing downed pilots. The Vulcan fired six thousand rounds a minute. That’s one round of 20 Mike-Mike every 37 inches. Literally a stream of lead, sounding more like a Hoover than a machine gun.

Then I decided there was no reason to jump out if this bird was still running. Did that the previous month . . scared the c____  out of me.

So with precious little fuel remaining I was begging for a tanker. And somewhere in cyberspace made radio contact with a KC-135. Following a terse debate challenging the tanker pilot’s priorities, we got together with barely any fuel reading on my gauge.

Made it back to Takhli. Gear, flap and flight control problems. But it landed in one piece.

Had hits all over the plane, except the extremely vulnerable under-belly engine area. It required 4,000 man-hours of work before it could be ferried elsewhere for further repairs.

I pleaded with our base commander to award Powers the Air Force Cross. He didn’t like the idea.  Reminded me that the Navy had their own Navy Cross . . handled their own decorations.

I pushed my point, as if we were equals. “Don’t you get it. The Oriskany lost their top guy while USAF gets a big headline back home. Powers’ brilliant leadership was why the mission succeeded! Give the Navy guy the AIR FORCE CROSS!” The Base Commander wasn’t a fighter pilot. So he didn’t get it.

Then, General George Simler flew in from HQ to have a beer with the guys on that mission. Sitting at our “Sorry-No-Ice-Ice Cubes-Today,” O’Club bar, Simler and I were hanger flying like two young cadets. He was that kind of General.

I passionately pitched General Simler on awarding the Air Force Cross to Powers. He loved it . . turned and dismissively told the Base Commander: “Take care of that, Colonel.”

Navy LtCmdr Powers received the Air Force Cross. Posthumously. A DFC awarded that day could have described any of the other pilots on the mission: Thunderchiefs . . Hunter-Killer mission . . against Surface to Air Missiles . . deep within hostile territory . . low level high speed run . . encounter withering ground fire . . pressed the attack . . dropped bombs in heart of target complex . . remarkable mission . . over-whelming odds . . skill and aggressiveness.

An old man who served in WWII told his grandson, “I was never a hero. But I served with many who were.”

That’s how I feel. The most remarkable characters in my life were the heroes I was honored to fly with in 1965.

They didn’t all come home. Nam was not a very glamorous or patriotic war. But every fighter pilot I knew put his life on the line, as if it were.

Gary Barnhill
[abridged]

“… that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government: of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

Pres. Abraham Lincoln

NOTE: I have underlined the key word, people, because when I was about 9 years old I heard an elderly lady on the radio, who said she was present when President Lincoln spoke, say he placed the emphasis “people”.
I think that is important, and deviates from those I’ve heard deliver his speech. They usually place the emphasis on “of”, “by” and “for”.