The Days Forward

West Point Class of 1969

Suzanne Rice

Off to Guam – Twice

Beale AFB, northern California

There I was going into the squadron for a night training flight in a B52 G Model. I had completed 12 months of pilot training, 3 ½ months of B52 school and sundry other USAF required schools/training. I was in month 1 of my required 4 months of local check out before full certification as a co-pilot of the B52G model. Upon arrival at the squadron for mission preflight, I was immediately approached by the squadron operations officer who said “Lt., pack your bags you are leaving for TDY Guam in 72 hours as a co-pilot for Crew R-12”.  Of course, I saluted and replied, “Yes, sir”.

Heading to Anderson Air Force Base, Guam

Journey to Guam

72 hours later, I met Crew R-12 for the first time (pilot, radar navigator, navigator, Electronic Warfare Officer, tail gunner).

Crew R-12 (Scott 2nd from right) in front of B52 G front landing gear, prior to mission. Anderson AFB, Guam, (note useless .38 caliber survival pistols!)

We constituted a 3-aircraft cell assigned to ferry 3 B52Gs to Guam and remain there to conduct combat missions as directed by 8th Air Force. Our B52 had a maintenance malfunction and was 4 hours late departing. The other 2 aircraft left on schedule and we would fly as a lone aircraft. Immediately after departure, we conducted aerial refueling from a KC135 just outside San Francisco over the Pacific. It was my first solo, co-pilot aerial refueling. Aerial refueling is generally regarded as one of the most difficult/dangerous tasks in military flying. There are two large aircraft about 75 ft from each other (B52 and KC135 – Boeing 707)) connected by a long metal tube (boom) which pumps jet fuel from the KC135 to the B52 under high-speed pressure. The danger of a midair collision is omnipresent. The pilots of both aircraft must fly by hand as autopilot flying was not an option. 17 ½ hours non-stop later, we could see Guam (about 30 miles long and 12 miles wide) on the distant horizon. Now, I understood what Naval aviators must feel like when they spot their aircraft carriers! The runway at Anderson AFB, (our destination) was a little over 2 miles of the island’s 30 miles.

Looks Like an Aircraft Carrier – Guam

Guam

After arrival in Guam, we had about 7 days before our first mission. For the first mission only were we accompanied by an experienced combat pilot. The rest of the missions only included our crew. The average mission was about 10-11 hours, non-stop, depending on what part of Viet Nam was our target. We normally flew in 3 aircraft cells. KC-135s were strategically placed along the 5000-mile round trip route in case we needed any additional fuel. Creature comforts on the aircraft were pretty much non-existent. Our seats were thin foam on top of a survival kit mounted on an ejection seat.  Therefore, we had to wear helmets, oxygen masks, parachute harness, etc. Ejection seats were triggered by an explosive charge which literally blew the seat out of a hatch in the top of the aircraft (the top hatch was triggered to blow a few milliseconds before the seat ejected through it). The seat traveled at close to 30Gs (30 times gravity) therefore almost assuring some form of spine injury. When on the ground the explosive charge was protected by a safety pin. The seat safety pin was removed prior to takeoff and replaced after landing. Heaters, air conditioners and coffee pots were low maintenance priorities so almost never worked. These were the Arc Light designated missions in support of ground troops. (Operation Arc Light was the code name for the B52 participation in the Vietnam war. Operation Arc Light ran from 1965 to 1973). The missions were mostly in South Vietnam, but I think we occasionally drifted into Cambodia and North Vietnam. Not sure if we had any missions in Laos. I completed 28 Arc Light Missions.

B52-G Ready for Taxi to Take-off from Guam

Most South Vietnam missions were uneventful but occasionally we would pick up a MIG searching for a target or very rarely a radar ping by a SAM (surface to air missile). The EW (Electronic Warfare Officer-managed all electronic defensive systems for the aircraft) would commence radar jamming defensive measures which were effective. The SAMs and the MIGs were all Russian.

Scott and his Radar Navigator, Pre-flight Completed, Waiting on Revetment for Scheduled Take-off – Guam.

The most difficult B52 missions came right before war end during the Paris peace talks. Kissinger used the B52s based in Guam and U-Tapao, Thailand as serious negotiation tools/threats. I was in Guam on my 2nd TDY as an Air Staff Officer for 8th Air Force, so was able to see the big picture from an operations view.  As the Paris negotiations ebbed and flowed, we were required to launch a maximum surge (all available aircraft) to target Hanoi.  These were the Linebacker II missions.  (Operation Linebacker II was the code name for the massive 11 day bombing campaign conducted primarily by B52s over Hanoi in support of the Paris peace talks). A number of B52s were shot down over Hanoi by SAMs (using effective Russian radar and MIG positioning). We launched about 4 maximum surges. After peace was concluded in Paris, it took about 6 months to wind down the B52 operation in Guam and in Thailand.

Bomber Stories Over Vietnam

“This is the Sign of the True Professional – To March to the Sound of the guns.” For those of you who have not looked in a while, this is the quote by General Westmoreland on the inside cover of the Class of 1969 yearbook.  I tried to let these words guide my career.

     After graduation leave, I wound up in pilot training at Vance AFB, OK with Dick Jarmanas my roommate.  It was a fun and challenging year.  Afterwards, we both went to Castle AFB, CA for Combat Crew Training School – Dick in KC-135 tankers and I in B-52s.  Then, on to my first duty station at Dyess AFB, TX. 

Paul’s B-52

     At the time, each B-52 unit was deploying about three crews to Southeast Asia flying combat sorties out of U-Tapao Royal Thai Air Base, Thailand.

 I quickly volunteered to go thinking the war might soon be over and I didn’t want to miss my chance.  That didn’t happen but by volunteering I became quite popular with my fellow co-pilots; they had all been there several times.  Each “short tour” was 180 days, sometimes a little less.  Flying six missions a week allowed me to get pretty comfortable with my job.  I volunteered to go back after each tour – in all I went six times for a total of two and a half years in theater, 232 total sorties, 32 of them over North Viet Nam.

     For my ground-pounding classmates, I’m sure it wasn’t at all like your tours in Viet Nam.  We returned to base after each mission, ate in the Officer’s Club, and slept in air-conditioned trailers.

     I didn’t get credit for my first mission up north.  I flew with Dick on a refueling mission. (https://thedaysforward.com/global-air-adventure-1971-73/)  Although he was supposed to orbit over Laos refueling fighters that had missions over the North, an F-4 Phantom called saying he would run out of gas before he could reach the tanker.  Dick and his crew, with no hesitation or discussion, turned into North Viet Nam.  They made the rendezvous look entirely normal and routine.  I doubt they even got credit for the “save.”  Dick flew one mission with me, but it wasn’t nearly as exciting – just a routine bombing mission over the South.

      As I mentioned, I got the opportunity to go North a few times.  Those were a little more interesting.  Even though we were at 30,000 feet, we experienced AAA (100mm anti-aircraft artillery),

KS-19 100mm Anti-aircraft Artillery that Menaced Paul

quite a few surface-to-air missiles (SAM), and one fighter attack.  One night over Hanoi, as usual, we were being barraged with SAMs.  One was a little more interesting than most.  With the gunner in the tail giving us continuous updates as he tracked the SAM visually, it exploded almost under our wing but fortunately just short – maybe a bad proximity fuse – but close enough to make my aircraft commander flinch.

Danger over North Vietnamese SAM’s

As to the MIG attack, I’d like to thank the F-4 pilot that put a missile up his tail pipe before he got off a shot at us.

      One war story:  you may remember the press reported that the Cuban embassy in Hanoi was bombed by mistake one night.  That was us.  The bombardier missed a step in his checklist and failed to close the release circuit disconnect, a manual safety feature.  When we reached the bomb release point, nothing happened and when you’re dropping 108 500# bombs, you can definitely feel it.  Panic at the bombing/navigation station until they quickly (certainly less than 30 seconds) figured out the problem.  They closed the circuit and released the bombs.  As luck would have it, I’m not sure if it was good luck or bad, we hit the Cubans.  At any rate, nothing much was ever said to us about the incident.

Paul Goes North to Hanoi

     Just as a footnote, 20+ years later, on my promotion recommendation to colonel, the first line read “232 combat sorties over Viet Nam; 32 over North Viet Nam.” All something I had done as a lieutenant/captain while marching to the sound of the guns.

Inspiration from the Class of 1969 Yearbook, the Howitzer

Air War

    My path into USAF from West Point was due to my dad. Army policy at the time allowed graduating cadets to be commissioned in another DoD branch if they were connected by way of a parent who was a career officer or NCO or if they were prior enlisted in that branch. My inspiration was my Dad’s story from an Oklahoma farm to commanding a heavy bomber crew in WW2 to flight testing the first swept wing jet bomber (B-47) on the planet to Mach 2 in an F-4. Those of us that went to AF pilot training were pipelined into the system with newly commissioned USAFA grads so most of our student pilot classmates were zoomies. AF policy at the time was to not send newly graduated pilots to front line tactical fighters… F-100s and F-4s at the time. I ended up as a KC-135 copilot as did many others. Once in the system, it was common to move us around to seemingly unrelated parts of the Air Force.

KC-135

    After pilot training at Reese AFB, TX, I became a KC-135 copilot at Dyess AFB, TX. It was a pretty typical first assignment at the time.  In 1971, I began what would be most of my flying was out of U-Tapao Royal Thai Air Force Base, Thailand and Kadena Air Base in Okinawa. U-T missions were mostly fighter support over North and South Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia. One that sticks in my memory was a night mission into southern China with 4 F-4s in formation carrying only air-to-air missiles and no external fuel tanks. My KC-135 tanker was for all practical purposes the “external fuel tank” for those 4 Phantoms. As a result, we were continuously “passing gas” as they took turns on and off of the refueling boom to keep topped off with jet fuel. A few minutes after passing the Plain of Jars in Laos my navigator exclaimed “Do you guys know where we are?” Yes, we did. The Plain of Jars, known in French as PDJ, located in central Laos, was constantly fought over, and changed hands frequently.

Where They Were
Plain of Jars

Ancient Laotian culture buried their dead in large clay pots there, hence the modern name. At the time “Plain of Bomb Craters” would have been more appropriate.  Our F-4s dropped away and we did a couple of big circles and they returned after a bit with a lot of missiles missing. All done in radio silence; we then headed south back into Laos and then our bases in Thailand. One of 2 times I actually put on my parachute in the KC-135. A useless gesture since the airplane did not have ejection seats for high speed and high altitude.

Okinawa, Site of Kadena Air Force Base

      Kadena flying was mostly B-52 support. The other time I actually put on my parachute in the tanker was when we came back to Kadena one night on fumes into a driving rainstorm dropping the visibility down to PAR (precision approach radar) minimums, the runway ankle deep in water, and maximum crosswind. Normally, a radar controller with a very precise 3-dimension radar talked airplanes all the way down to touchdown. A quarter mile visibility was usually our minimum acceptable, but if there is no Plan B, you’ll take anything! Enough fuel for one shot at the runway and then bail out into Naha Bay. After landing it felt as if we were water skiing down the runway.

    While at Kadena, I was assigned to flying an OV-10 Bronco at the 56th Special Operations Wing at Nakhon Penom Royal Thai Air Force Base in Thailand.

OV-10 Bronco

 The OV-10 was designed as a counter-insurgency aircraft. It had two turbo-prop engines, long landing gear struts, and was armed with various bombs, rockets and 4 M-60 machine guns. It could operate out of small airfields as needed. It was flown by one pilot but had a rear cockpit for an occasional observer. The other airplanes in the wing were CH-53s, HH-53s, AC-130s, MC-130s, HC-130s, and EC-47s. The C-7s, A-37s and A-1s had already been transferred to the Vietnamese Air Force. Like the special operations forces in the other DoD services, we were USAF’s swiss army knife in Southeast Asia. Perfect job for a bachelor too dumb to know that his 25th birthday was not guaranteed. One engagement (out of a lot of options) of note was an all-day running gunfight outside of a Cambodian provincial capitol under attack by the Khmer Rouge. Another of our OV-10s had been over head since sunup and had done a great job of setting up the fight that was rapidly building. Rick (later the USAF chief test pilot on the B-2 program) gave me a detailed briefing on the tactical situation and I set about dodging .51 caliber heavy machine gun fire, mapping out the attackers’ positions, and telling the Airborne Command and Control Center (a highly modified C-130) to send me tactical fighters (an assortment of F-4s and A-7s as it turned out) with general purpose bombs on board. A couple of MK-84 (2000-pound bomb) Laser Guided Bombs from an F-4 took out (vaporized actually) an observation post on the 2nd floor of a former schoolhouse. Another F-4 put a string of 6 unguided MK-82s (500-pound bomb) within 50 meters of the friendlies. Scared the hell out of me but the translator said to keep it coming; we had caught a company plus in the open and there would be no survivors. And so, it went for a while; the good guys were winning. After a couple of hours my relief arrived, and I handed off the situation to him. By the time I landed back in Thailand, he was KIA. One of our helicopters picked up the body the next day. First Distinguished Flying Cross for me…not too sure I deserved it. 

    Post war, I got an assignment as an instructor pilot in USAF pilot training. Thus, began my tenure in the post-war peacetime Air Force. Probably about as frustrating to me as my Army classmates while political correctness overcame common sense. My dad’s example from Depression Era farmer to WW2 combat pilot to flying what was then leading-edge technology jet aircraft was inspirational to me even if I didn’t always grasp it growing up. Airplanes seemed like a natural part of my life and they fascinate me still.       

Global Air Adventure

In early 1971, I was a co-pilot in a global air refueling squadron that rotated crews in and out of Eastern Thailand and Fairbanks, Alaska from our home base in Michigan. I had been in the squadron a few months when my crew received orders to go to Thailand. We flew our own aircraft, a modified Boeing 707 called a KC-135, to Thailand. We planned to be there for 4 months.

At U-Tapao Air Base, a KC-135 with a B-52 Landing Overhead

Our combat air refueling mission was to fly to one of several designated orbits that wrapped around the southwest, west, and northwest edges of North Vietnam. Once orbiting, we were joined in formation by our “chicks”.

Refueling with 4 ”chicks” (F-105’s) in tow

Chicks were our receivers, combat aircraft that were flying missions deep into North Vietnam. Each receiver was refueled with a specified amount of fuel using a 20-foot long hard refueling boom.

“Phantom On the Boom”

We also flew the RC-135 on several totally different missions. The RC-135 was a reconnaissance plane and we had Vietnamese riding in the back using very sensitive listening devices to monitor radio conversation between Hanoi and Haiphong. Each mission was a 10-hour orbit between those two cities, with heavy fighter cover under us. The RC was a Boeing 707 with big domes and antennae sticking out.

 We had reasonably good air superiority, allowing for a variety of recon, jamming, and fighter bomber aircraft to operate up north. Each needed to refuel going up and coming back. Aircraft joined us in formation to top off with fuel and get ready to complete their missions or head home. Sometimes there was damage to returning aircraft resulting in loss of fuel. We would go further into North Vietnam to get them. On some occasions we went further in to loiter and support aircraft attempting to recover downed pilots. It was a bad day or night if recovery was not successful.

I have a strong recollection of how hollow I felt each time I crossed deep into North Vietnam. No one wanted to end up in the “Hanoi Hilton” prison. Another strong emotion hit whenever I flew in a southwest anchor at night and could see the illumination flares and explosions on the ground. I would always say a prayer for my Classmates who were down there living that hell.

To Hanoi and Haiphong

It was uncomfortable trying to link-up at night when the weather was bad. No visibility and unstable air made it tough and we would fly all over the place trying to get these heavily armed or sometimes heavily damaged jets the fuel they needed.

One day an enemy Mig-21 managed to pop-up and get within firing range of our KC-135. I will bet that few people have ever put a 200,000-pound Boeing 707 into a 90-degree, 4 G turn. Our plane creaked and groaned but we remained in one piece with no new holes. It was very eerie as the AWACS (airborne command post) radioed the closing distances between us and the Mig-21. I thought I was done for on that day.

I had over 30 combat missions in or on the edge of North Vietnam in KC-135’s and RC-135’s when my crew was pulled out a few weeks early to go to Okinawa. I thought it was a good trade-off until I found out what unfriendly country we were encroaching upon this time (North Korea). Kim Il Sung was in power and already creating big trouble in the area. Lots of concern about weapons he already had.

Okinawa to North Korea

By early 1973 I was in the left seat and had my own crew. It was our turn to go to Thailand, but we were sent to Alaska instead. That also struck me as a good trade-off until I realized that we were going to be flying directly over the North Pole and into Siberia to check on Soviet nuclear testing.

Rare photo of a KC-135 air-to-air refueling of an RC-135 at the North Pole

This was the heart of the Cold War. Do you know how many tall pine trees there are in Siberia? Billions.

 

Siberian Trees as Far as the Eye Could See

I got out of the Air Force when the Vietnam War ended. Air Force pilots were encouraged to get out or take a desk job. I was hired by a company in Kansas City. My first day at work I was sitting at my new desk on the 3rd floor, by the windows. The cafeteria was directly below me and it developed a fire. Flames and smoke were coming up the outer wall right by me. I could not resist seeing the irony of it all.

Hey, I Could Really Use a Ride – 1971

Timing is everything and I’m certain that West Point has ingrained that principle in the minds of all its graduates along with so many other important aspects of military life. As a supporting wife, I tried to comply with all the rules, regulations, long and short separations, running our home and keeping the proverbial chin up during difficult times. This is something all military wives share—we are a tough bunch. However, the Army cannot control the human body, at least not mine.

We were stationed in Baumholder, Germany. When I told this story at an A-2 gathering and mentioned Baumholder, there were audible groans from a good portion of the crowd. Must admit, I liked Baumholder. Maybe because it was our first assignment and I had nothing to compare but I endured, even climbing to our 4th floor quarters.

Beautiful Sunrise Over Baumholder Military Housing – see Pat’s fourth floor home

Denny was in a tank battalion commanding Alpha Company. Baumholder could not accommodate tank gunnery, so the entire battalion moved to Grafenwoehr in the late summer for 8 weeks. Here is where the timing comes in…I became pregnant in the winter and my due date fell on the day the battalion was to return. Oops.

The beginning of my 9th month, it was discovered that we were expecting twins. No ultrasounds in those days (1971). The battalion commander allowed Denny to return for a week, but those babies were holding tight. He had to resume his command at Grafenwohr and I chose to move in with another “waiting wife” rather than spend weeks in the hospital as my OB/GYN suggested.  Luckily, I was surrounded with many supporting battalion wives, wives of classmates and those classmates in other units that were also assigned to Baumholder. A-2 classmate, Norv and Kris Eyrich lived in the next building from where I was staying, coincidentally, Kris was pregnant at the same time and due almost on the same day.

So, of course, my labor started the day before the battalion was to return. I knew Denny would be extremely busy making sure his tanks were being loaded on to trains, tying up loose ends and preparing for the long, 12-hour journey back to Baumholder.

I placed a call to the rear-detachment officer. His wife was also pregnant. There must have been something in the water! Anyway, he was just a little riled by this news wondering if he was the designated driver to get me to the hospital. I knew that wouldn’t be a problem because in about 20 minutes there were 6 or 8 wives in my friend Nancy’s living room all trying to figure out who would be able to transport me to Bad Kreuznach, about 40 miles away. I happened to glance out the window and there was Norv, walking his dog. Kris delivered their beautiful daughter a day or two before by C-section. I leaned out and yelled “Hey, Norv, are you going to visit Kris tonight?” He looked up and said “Yes, I’m leaving in a few minutes. Is there a problem?” I replied, “I’m pretty sure I’m in labor, and since you are going that way, I could really use a ride.”

God bless Norv. Without missing a beat, he said “Yes, I’ll bring the car to the front of your building.” My bag was packed and ready as I was instructed to do by the nurses at the OB clinic. I worked my way down the stairwell, with the help of all those ladies. They lovingly padded the passenger seat of Norv’s VW Bug with about 12 towels and off we went.

Route to the Hospital

Norv mentioned that he knew a short cut through the countryside that was faster than the autobahn. Since I didn’t have a choice and the contractions were about 12 minutes apart, I hoped he knew what he was doing. After all, he did get Kris there, right? Right. Turns out a good portion of the road was under construction and the detours were rough surfaces to say the least. With every bump, I prayed my water wouldn’t break and I could tell the contractions were coming a little more frequently.

Meanwhile, back at Graf in the mess hall, Denny got the word about my labor, delegated his company responsibilities for their departure and was frantically searching for some sort of transportation to BK. It was getting dark and raining hard with poor visibility. Denny’s Battalion Commander found a helicopter pilot who volunteered to fly him to the hospital. Since that was the only offer, he took it. What could go wrong?

We thankfully arrived at the BK hospital and Norv escorted me to the admissions desk on the OB floor.

 

Bad Kreuznach Hospital

 The staff behind the nurses’ station, looked at him then looked a me and then looked at him again. A male nurse sneered and said “Captain, didn’t you bring another woman here a few days ago who was also in labor?” Norv explained that yes, that was true, but he was helping a friend this time who was in Graf. I could tell the guy still wasn’t convinced, standing there as I gripped the wall tile with another contraction. He asked for my ID card and Denny’s unit. I handed it over and told him it was 2/68 Armor. I could hear him talking to someone saying 2/68 Artillery. He turned to me and said that unit doesn’t exist. Another sneer at Norv. IT’S 2/68 ARMOR, ARMOR NOT ARTILLERY, I yelled to him. At last it was confirmed, and I was escorted to the labor room. Norv tried to reassure me it would be alright and went to Kris’s room.

I wasn’t sure it would be alright. I was admitted at about 8pm and Denny arrived, looking very pale, at around midnight exclaiming he had one hell of a ride.

At 6:08 and 6:15am, Kelly and Scott came into this world by natural childbirth.

Sweet Wance Twins

Later that morning, the doctor who delivered the children, drove Denny back to Baumholder. Dr. Roth (Werner Roth, MD, a German contract OB) had clinic hours that day at our little dispensary.

It wasn’t at all how I pictured this event would evolve but thanks to bad timing and good friends, it was an experience I will never forget.