1967-07-  July

This would be my first full month of combat as shown in the logbook page on the right.  Fighter and attack communities may be surprised at the scarcity of flights.  Many A-4 and F-4 crews flew every day, and sometimes twice a day.  We generally flew perhaps 2 days out of three.  The main reason for this is that we had to plan each flight as a separate mission, while the other squadrons went into North Vietnam as part of an Air Wing strike.   In any case, the loss rate for the RA-5C in combat was the highest for any Navy aircraft, so flying somewhat less served to make the odds of surviving a cruise a little more even.

A couple of entries are worth mentioning.  On the 12th, we flew a 1.9 h night mission conducting side looking radar surveillance in the Vinh area.  This didn't require us to fly over land, but the flight turned out to be exciting in any event.   One factor every aviator keeps in mind is the bingo fuel:  the amount of fuel required to proceed to the alternate landing (bingo site).  If you're having trouble getting aboard the carrier, you would want to head for the bingo site before you reached bingo fuel.  Our bingo site was Da Nang air base, which was 200 nautical miles distant, longer than one would wish.  The RA-5C carried a considerable amount of fuel internally in bomb bay cans.  There were usually three of these, but if this aircraft carried the Passive ECM package, there were only two.  This was the case for us this night.  The combination of a long bingo and limited internal fuel meant that you really had only one shot at landing, if that.  

Note that there is an entry in the BOL column for this night.  This stands for a bolter, or missing all the arresting gear wires.   You continue off the angle deck, and come around to try it again.  Bolters are common, especially at night.  See Youthly Puresome's (Jack Wooodul) encounter with the Thing:

Certainly, the Demon that used to live out there at Mach One was dead....But the Thing that lived at night around aircraft carriers, the Thing with yellow eyes and long teeth that could curdle the righteous stuff of the most steely-eyed Naval Aviator, was alive and out there, waiting.

The demon must have been in the Tonkin Gulf that night as we found ourselves below bingo fuel.  Our only option was to refuel in-flight.  In flight refueling is another problematic operation, especially when it counts,  as in this case.  Rendezvous with the tanker took longer than usual (I think he had been following another low state aircraft).  By the time we pulled astern of the A-3, our fuel low light was on.  After a couple unsuccessful tries, we did tank and received enough fuel for a successful pass and recovery.  An eventful flight and we hadn't even been shot at.

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Getting used to a new pilot in a combat environment was a major adjustment, but was going fairly smoothly.  Or so I thought.  I had the advantage of flying with the best stick-and-rudder man in the squadron; he had set the record in the RA-5C during carrier qualifications.  However, he did have a reputation among the navigators of being difficult to fly with.  And his former RAN did turn his wings in.  But things were going well, I thought, and I was focused on getting up to speed.  I spent most of my free time in the classified vault, reading up on everything I could get my hands on.  Since we planned our own missions, it was important to have a reasonable understanding of the lethality of the various threat systems we were flying against.

We were scheduled to fly a mission against some targets in the Thanh Hoa area.  Shortly after takeoff I discovered I couldn't hear anything over my headset.  One ironclad rule is that you don't fly over land without full communications.  Imagine my surprise when we started toward land and went "feet dry."  I turned the cameras on so we did get some pictures, still without any comm.  

I was furious.  This is just something that isn't done, but I can imagine the rationale of needing to complete the mission overrode any safety or related issues.  The pilot and I had a heart to heart conversation.  Being a LCDR with several cruises under his belt he was understandably less than receptive to advice from an ensign with a few weeks experience.  

Sometimes an example is better than just talk.  A while later, we were flying a night PECM flight, which involved long straight legs basically through the center of the Gulf.  The ASB-12 radar had an excellent capability as a weather sensor.  I noticed a very strong cell directly in our path.  I started to key the mike to recommend a change in course then had a second thought:  why not wait a bit?  I watched the cell track down the radar scope until it was a mile or two ahead. Then:

Me: Cell buildup ahead. Recommend course change.

Pilot:  When will we reach it?

Me:  Right about... now.  

[The plane begins to be buffeted by heavy turbulence associated with the thunderstorm]

Pilot:  Why didn't you tell me before? (pause)  Oh, OK

I think we got along pretty well after that.

Next: 1967-08 The PECM mission