Air Commando Journal

never forget a Friday night sortie in the Sport aircraft inbound to Field 6 at 80 knots when all the instrumentation in the aircraft was “wired,” but looking outside on PVS-5s I apparently mumbled to myself: “This Doesn’t Look Good”. Had we followed the internal approach guidance we would have landed well short. The moral of the story was that good instincts in the special operations aircraft cockpit will always be essential to managing the inherent risks of and accomplishing that very demanding (and rewarding) special operations aviation mission. It is with genuine humility that I now defer to the authors of the accounts of Talon history you truly wish to read. I just close this introduction by expressing appreciation to all the Talon crews over the years, our “Heavy” program predecessors, those in each of the Talon squadrons (notwithstanding the focus on the 8th SOS above), and those who lost their lives (and in some cases their careers) in pursuing Talon excellence in special operations aviation. Only Talon families sacrificed more and are more deserving of our lasting respect. NORTON A. SCHWARTZ General (Ret), USAF Former Chief of Staff FOREWORD Fall 2013 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │ 5 www.aircommando.org CHINDIT CHATTER This edition of Air Commando Journal (ACJ) focuses on the recently retired and highly venerable to the end, Combat Talon 1. More importantly, it highlights the men and women who flew and maintained it during its nearly 50 years of fantastic service to the nation. Perhaps its most memorable single mission occurred in April, 1980, in the wasteland of Iran at Desert One. The history of that mission, generally accepted as providing the impetus behind legislation that led to the creation of USSOCOM and AFSOC, is well known and documented. We asked some of the crewmembers to draft articles focusing not so much on the mechanics of carrying out that heroic feat, but on the visceral emotions and individual thoughts and highlights of making that historical attempt. The response was overwhelming and many of those articles are published here. We could not use all of them in this single edition or we would not have been able to discuss other capabilities and missions of this great machine. We will publish the remainder in future ACJs. This obviously is not a complete history of the Talon 1. Rather, we looked at snippets through her history. One of our contributors, Col (Ret) Jerry Thigpen penned a very thorough look in The Praetorian Starship, The Untold Story of the Combat Talon Air University Press, Dec 2001. Readers should refer to it for a more in-depth look. Enjoy this edition of ACJ. Dennis Barnett, Col, USAF (Ret) ACA Vice President and Editor In Chief Providing assistance to wounded warriors and their families. Support the foundation donate online at www.aircommando.org or contact the Air Commando Association at 850-581-0099 Email: endowmentfoundation@aircommando.org The Air Commando Association Foundation Endowment is a fully tax deductible 501(c)(3). All donations to the Foundation are 100% committed to providing assistance as all administrative and other overhead costs are absorbed by the Air Commando Association (ACA). 6 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │Fall 2013 www.aircommando.org H otwasH Summer 2013 ACJ Cover The cover of our Summer edition elicited many to ask, “Who are those Air Commandos?” Thanks to Bob Dutton, the mystery has been solved. 50 years ago (from left to right) Ken Alnwick a RB-26 Navigator, Robert Dutton a B-26 Pilot, Fred Redeker a B-26 Navigator arrive in Saigon on 20 June 1963 on a C-135 for a 1st tour out of Bien Hoa with the 1st SOW, 6th Fighter Squadron. 606 SOS U-10 Reference page 49, Summer 2013 Air Commando Journal, there is no mention of the 606 SOS U-10s. I originally had orders to the 5th SOS, was subsequently transferred to the 606 SOS at Nakhon Phanom flying U-10s. We flew U-10s in Laos, Cambodia and Thailand. Leaflets, loudspeakers, infil/exfil, Hmong support, civic action, etc. Several links are available to provide background, I suggest the following site as a starting point: www.aircommandoman.tripod.com. If anyone is interested I have several hundred slides of our aircraft and operations. I would appreciate it if the 606 SOS U-10 veterans could receive concurrent acknowledgement. Thank you, Dennis Petersen, Member #5238 Super! The article Piston STOL and SOF (Summer 2013, Vol 2, Issue 3) is, in my opinion, a super example of the kind of contextual history that backs up the Air Commando story. Please convey to Dr. Hallion that I enjoyed reading it. I hope to see more of his work in the Air Commando Journal (ACJ). Maj Scott E McIntosh, USAF USAFE HQ AIRCOM/A2 Sir(s), As always, thank you for bringing the organization to a new level! It has always been an honor to be an Air Commando, now it is a pleasure to share the great info you provide via the Journal, and the Reunions to build our force both professionally, and in comradeship. BZ! My son-in-law is now an Air Commando at the 27th SOW, and it is wonderful to see that the Commando Spirit not only continues, but THRIVES! I am proud to see the community take care of my daughter and grandbabies while the Commandos continue to fight for freedom around the world. Tim Hale, Goose 77/SG5 Cabinet Secretary, NM Dept of Veterans Services Just a quick note to say, GREAT summer issue of the Air Commando Journal! Just got it delivered the day after Labor Day… (Pony Express runs a little slow up here in Holt, FL). The article on John Grove was an eye opener, I knew a lot that he had done but there was still a lot to learn. Sam (Felix Sambogna), thanks for writing the article. Jim Connors, Holt, FL Col Barnett, Just want tell you what a great job the ACA Staff did on the Summer 2013 ACJ. Keep up the great work. Sincerely, Gene Adcock , The Villages, FL Dick and Dennis, I deeply regret I won’t be able to attend this year’s reunion. Tops a bad week losing Gen Vaught and Bagger both. Best wishes for a great reunion and dinner. What an appropriate list of HOF honorees. Reread my copy of Journal last night. You hit it out of the park. Thanks for the tribute to John Grove. VR, Maj Gen (Ret) Robert Patterson Submissions can be e-mailed to info@aircommando.org or mailed to Hot Wash c/o Air Commando Association, P.O. Box 7, Mary Esther, FL 32569. ACA reserves the right to eliminate those that are not deemed appropriate. Thank you in advance for your interest in the Air Commando Journal. Advertisers in this issue: ATK ............................................................................................7 Black Diamond ...................................................................... 28 Blanchard Family Wines ...................................................... 43 Boeing .................................................................................... 31 Creative Awards ..................................................................... 43 Emerald Coast Convention Center ....................................... 43 Lockheed Martin ................................................................... 41 ScottEventPhoto .......................................................................2 Sierra Nevada Corporation .................................................. 28 Special Operations Warrior Foundation .................................. 47 8 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │Fall 2013 www.aircommando.org Combat Talons in the Son Tay Raid POW CAMP PHOTO Low altitude Buffalo Hunter photo of the Son Tay POW Camp. By Col (Ret) John Gargus ASSAULT FORMATION Daytime “Assault Formation” training with Cherry 01 leading HH-3 Banana and HH-53 Apples. Our 1970 attempt to rescue American POWs from Son Tay in North Vietnam started out as a small joint ground and air special operation that grew into what, up to that time, became the largest nighttime air battle of the Vietnam War. To appreciate how this event evolved, we need to recall the aircraft capabilities of that day. Fall 2013 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │ 9 www.aircommando.org North Vietnam had the most formidable air defenses of that time and we were losing many aircraft in our daytime bombing missions. Son Tay POW camp was well inside this heavily defended air space, just 23 miles west of Hanoi. A daytime rescue attempt would have been suicidal. For the raid to succeed it had to be done at night with undetected intrusion into North Vietnamese airspace. Stray Goose Combat Talons had been sneaking into North Vietnam supporting Military Assistance Command Vietnam – Studies and Observation Group (MACV-SOG) at night since the first Combat Spear aircraft (Pacific Combat Talons) had deployed to Southeast Asia (SEA) in 1966. For four years they had been executing a variety of clandestine missions on the periphery of this formidable defense umbrella without getting shot down. The Combat Talons had the sophisticated terrain following/ terrain avoidance, navigation, and electronic countermeasures equipment, while the crews had the unique planning skills and experience to do this with a single aircraft employing terrain following tactics that avoided early warning radar detection. Together, these men and their machines always managed to accomplish their targeted goals before the enemy responded to their surprising presence in their well-defended and lethal air defense zones. Our search and rescue capabilities during the 1960s and early 1970s were conducted by Jolly Green Giant helicopters and supporting Skyraider fighters. The Sikorsky HH-3E Jolly Green Giants were being replaced by longer range, more powerful, and faster Super Jolly Green Giant HH-53s. The A-1E Skyraiders were not air refuelable, but they had sufficient long range with loitering endurance, and flew at speeds compatible with the helicopters and C-130s. Neither the helicopters nor the Skyraiders had the navigational capability or the electronic countermeasures needed to fly into enemy territory at night while avoiding detection by enemy radars. By themselves, they were not survivable in the formidable North Vietnamese airspace. To carry out a successful rescue, the entire force would have to get into North Vietnam undetected, find the Son Tay prison camp, rescue the prisoners, and then run for the hills toward Laos, out of the air defense hornets’ nest they would surely provoke. Consequently, the initial plan presumed that a Combat Talon MC-130 would have to fly as a pathfinder for the Jolly Greens and the Skyraiders. Because the joint task force planners wanted sufficient back-ups for everything, they opted for two Combat Talons. This way one could escort the helicopters at about 105 kts with the second escorting the Skyraiders at about 145 kts. This configuration would allow two formations flying at different airspeeds. That basic plan appeared simple enough. Secrecy around this daring rescue plan was of utmost importance. A joint task force had to be assembled and trained in the USA and inserted into Southeast Asia for the execution of the rescue mission. The obvious place for training without causing any undue attention was Eglin AFB where experimentation of all kinds was always on-going. There was already a Rescue wing in place with Jolly Green Giants and HC-130 helicopter refuelers, and plenty of isolated training areas. So, that was where the Joint Contingency Task Group, headed by Brig Gen Leroy Manor, commander of the USAF Special Operations Force, assembled. One Combat Talon, #64-0558, came from the Detachment 2 of the 1st Special Operations Wing at Pope AFB. The other Talon, #64-0523, was from the 15th Special Operations Squadron at Nha Trang, SVN. The Nha Trang aircraft was already in California at Lockheed Air Service undergoing modification. The 15th SOS in Vietnam was simply informed that the on-going modification needed more time to complete. The Combat Knife (stateside Combat Talons) Detachment from Pope AFB provided one volunteer crew and a complement of maintenance people. The Combat Arrow (European Combat Talons) squadron from Ramstein AB in Germany provided another full crew. The Heavy Chain unit from Norton AFB in California, that had the same navigation and electronic countermeasures in their special mission C-130s, was tasked to provide 12 maintenance personnel for this unique equipment. Pulling people and aircraft from a variety of units lessened the burden on the squadrons and on-going programs, and also helped minimize risks to operational security. General Manor briefed selected members from both Talon crews who became the air operations planners. From the Pope AFB crew they were: Lt Col Albert (Friday) Blosch, aircraft commander; Capt Harry Pannill, first pilot; Maj John Gargus, navigator; and Lt Col Cecil Clark, EWO. The Ramstein AB crew was represented by aircraft commander Maj Irl (Leon) Franklin and navigator Capt Tom Stiles. Both Gargus and Clark had served as mission planners during their tours in Vietnam, and because they had flown as regular crew members, while also serving as their unit’s mission planners, they were well experienced with the capabilities of North Vietnam’s air defenses. The very first thing they concluded was that the terrain following option for sneaking into North Vietnam was out. The AN/APQ-115 radar could not operate at speeds below 160 knots. At the slow speeds required to escort the helicopters, the radar could be used only for mapping and for terrain avoidance operations. In order to lead the extremely slow formation, the Talon would have to fly in a nose high attitude that would Stray Goose was the Air Force program to convert 14 C-130Es into an unconventional warfare capability for long range infiltration, resupply, and exfiltration. Delivered from 1966 to 67, these original Combat Talons were equipped with TF/ TA radar, a defensive electronic warfare suite, and the Fulton surface-to-air recovery system. Heavy Chain aircraft were C-130Es that were used as testbeds for Combat Talon upgrades and modifications. 10 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │Fall 2013 www.aircommando.org exceed the antenna tilt even for the terrain avoidance flight. The navigators would have to compensate for these limitations, knowing that terrain at or slightly above the flight level and also dead ahead of the aircraft would not be seen by the radar, and that terrain to the left and right would be shown higher in relation to the aircraft’s true horizon. The limitations of the radar was not the biggest problem faced by the Combat Talons. The biggest problem was caused by the requirement to escort the helicopters at slow speeds. The Combat Talons had been designed for single-ship, covert penetration of defended enemy airspace. The radar was not designed to provide obstacle clearance for a formation. The original plan called for five HH-53 helicopters to carry the raiding force in and also have room to extract the raiding force and the prisoners, some of whom were expected to be on litters. A Bell UH-1H Huey was originally planned as the sixth helicopter. Because of its smaller size, the Huey was intended to carry the team of raiders, call sign Blueboy, who would land inside the prison compound to help protect the POWs from the prison guards and give the other elements of the raider force time to breach the walls and take down the prison compound. The maximum airspeed of that Huey at the anticipated altitudes and atmospheric conditions encountered in Southeast Asia was 87 knots. The only way the Huey could have been escorted to Son Tay was if it had drafted off the C-130’s left wing. This was an emergency procedure for the faster Jolly Green Giants (used if needing to refuel single engine). During testing we proved that the Huey could draft off the MC-130 if the Herc flew at 105 knots with nose up 10 degrees and with 70% flaps. The Huey would drop down just aft of the left wing and flew at 5 degrees nose down attitude in order to stay in position and gain 20 knots of air speed. While possible, this was very difficult, strenuous, and hazardous flying that was finally abandoned after the first dress rehearsal. The 11 combat-ready men who were crammed inside of the small Huey for more than 3 hours also found they were in no shape to execute the swift attack needed to subdue the guards inside the prison. We then had to consider inserting the Blueboy raiders by HH-3 with its 14 ft larger rotor diameter. The intelligence analysis indicated that HH-3 would have to chop down some tree limbs as it landed inside of the prison courtyard. The good thing, though, was that HH-3 could cruise at 120 kts, it was air refuelable, and had room for the assault team, as well as the specialized equipment Capt Dick Meadows and the Blueboy force would need during that initial assault. Because we did not know until the very end if we would get an HH-3, we decided to stay with the 105 knot air speed for the helicopter formation. This uncertainty was caused by the programmed withdrawal of the few remaining rescue HH-3s from Da Nang to Okinawa. We had a UH-1H flown to Thailand in a C-141 as a possible back up if we ended up without an HH-3. The Combat Talon that led the helicopter formation was called Cherry 1. The HH-53s were Apples 1 through 5. The HH-3 call sign was Banana. The whole Cherry 1 entourage, bringing in the ground troops, was the “Assault Formation”. Extensive nighttime flying training with helicopters was necessary. At that time in the war, helicopter operations, including air refueling, were conducted only in the daytime. Night helicopter refueling was just entering its initial training phase at Eglin AFB. There were no night qualified HC-130 tanker crews in Southeast Asia. The raid would employ the first night operational refueling of helicopters. Formation flying with the A-1E Skyraiders was not a problem. We flew at 145 knots. Our only problem was that we had to make very gentle heading changes to ensure that the Skyraiders in the V formation did not lose sight of our guiding wing tip lights that were visible only from above. Call sign for the Combat Talon leading the Skyraider ”Strike Formation” was Cherry 02. Skyraiders were Peaches 1 through 5. They would be needed to provide air cover for the ground operation. The whole 13 aircraft ensemble was called “the Fruit Salad.” We tried hard to keep flight plans for each type of aircraft as simple as possible even though we had to orchestrate a pretty complex and carefully timed arrival into the objective area at different air speeds and altitudes. Everything depended on the open ended arrival STRIKE FORMATION Daytime “Strike Formation” training with Cherry 02 leading A-1E Peaches. Editor’s comment: Reader’s will note that Jerry Uttaro points out that the challenge of formation flying came up again ten years later when the Combat Talons preparing for Eagle Claw had to develop “new” formation flying procedures in order to lead the EC-130s into Iran. Fall 2013 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │ 11 www.aircommando.org time for the Assault Formation into the objective area. Arrival times and altitude separations of others had to be based on that critical time. The assault time was based on the prison guard shift change that occurred regularly at 2:00 AM. The ideal attack should take place 15 minutes later when the new shift was just getting ready for a boring, monotonous night and the retiring one was getting to bed. We also needed to establish a critical distance from the prison where the formations would break up and each aircraft proceeded on its own to complete the mission. With all that, each aircraft would still have a very simple fixed flight plan to follow that would fit in into a more complex objective area scenario. Both formations would fly the centerline of 6-mile wide corridor that gave them 1,000 ft. clearance above the terrain. This wide corridor was required due to the possibility of a helicopter formation break up, in which case the helicopters would spread out and the C-130 would make a circle coming back under the helicopters and reestablishing the original formation. If Cherry 1 lost an engine or could no longer continue leading the Assault Formation, Cherry 2 would abandon the Skyraiders and speed in to take over leading the helicopter formation. In order to do this, Cherry 2 had to be not more than 10 minutes away at the start of the dog-legged, low level flight and 2 minutes away at the initial point of entry into the Red and Black River Basin. Because the Assault Formation flew at 105 knots and the Strike Formation at 145 knots, the two routes had to cross each other a few times in order to keep them that close to each other without the faster Strike Formation overtaking the slower formation. Keeping this up in flight was a navigational challenge for the Strike Formation. No matter what kind of timing problem happened to the Assault Formation, Banana’s arrival time at the prison was the time to which all had to adjust their objective area orbits and work. There were many new innovations we planned to use in the raid. Some involved the Combat Talons. We were concerned about positive identification of our formation turning points to ensure that we remained in the center of our corridors. To accomplish this, we had the only two existing experimental forward looking infrared instruments (FLIRs) installed at Lockheed Air Service in California on both aircraft. These two devices had been tried before by the Heavy Chain unit from Norton AFB. The FLIRs more than compensated for the mapping inadequacy of our terrain following radar. A 12x10 inch television screen turned the night imagery into day and we were able to see landmark features, especially those of rivers and creeks that were concealed by the jungle foliage. Contrast between the water and foliage temperatures made them easily discernible. This new technology ensured that Cherry 01 would be able to see the Son Tay prison and guide its flight directly over the camp. The FLIR monitor was installed to the right of the navigator’s console in the space occupied by one of the cockpit passenger seats. It required another navigator to operate it. Because the Ramstein crew came in with a spare navigator, there was no problem. A recently returned navigator from Nha Trang was brought in from Pope AFB. He was Capt Norman Mazurek, who was promptly added to the mission planning staff because of his recent work in mission planning. Lt Col Bud Neville, who had used the FLIR at Heavy Chain, was summoned from his assignment at the Tactical Airlift Center at Pope AFB to come to Florida to give us instructions on its use. We also experimented with the first sets of night vision goggles that were being developed at Ft. Belvoir. They also turned night into day, but one had to move his head slowly because of excessive image smearing during scanning along the horizon. These early NVGs were unusable in the cockpit because of their tunnel vision and the glare from the instrument panel lights. The six pairs of NVGs we got were used successfully, though, by the helicopter crews on the ground to scan the terrain around them for any enemy movement in their direction. Capt Jim McClam, the Army marshaling officer used the goggles to locate and identify the late returning team that provided security at the canal bridge. We were the first ones to use these prototype goggles in combat. They are now standard issue to our troops in Iraq and Afghanistan. Next, we employed ground acquisition responder/interrogator (GAR/I) beacons on Banana and two other helicopters during formation break LOW LEVEL ROUTE TO SON TAY Routes of the “Fruit Salad Formations” over the mountains of North Vietnam showing exposure sector to Na San early warning radar. 12 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │Fall 2013 www.aircommando.org q CHERRY TWO IN THE OBJECTIVE AREA Cherry Two’s orbital track west of Son Tay showing drop locations for battle simulators, napalm bomb markers and railroad log flares. p CHERRY ONE IN THE OBJECTIVE AREA Cherry One’s orbital track in the Son Tay area showing drop locations for flares, battle simulators and napalm bomb markers. Fall 2013 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │ 13 www.aircommando.org ups. These transponders were normally used for ground target identification by bombing aircraft or on a drop zone to assist the navigator during blacked-out airdrops. The Talon’s terrain following radar would trigger them to send back coded signals that would be displayed on our radar scopes. We also turned our C-130s in to bombers. Normal napalm bombs dropped by fighters would spread out the jellied gasoline across a wide area, which only burned for a few minutes. As our plan called for no more than 30 minutes on the ground by the raider force, we needed a way to provide illumination and mark the holding points for the Skyraiders. By using a special cradle to deploy the napalm bombs and adding a drag chute, the napalm canisters landed in a confined area which concentrated the napalm. The resulting fire provided up to sixty foot high flames for at least an hour. We had no idea what kind of local electrical lighting would be available, so we brought in our own lighting that was very distinct from anything that might be burning on the ground that night. Also, our loadmasters dropped improvised battle simulators (large suitcase size Styrofoam boxes imbedded with firecrackers and cherry bombs) to make the enemy on the ground think that a much larger raiding force was attacking areas at some distance from the prison. In addition, we dropped improvised railroad flares on the hillsides to start conspicuously red burning fires that would have to be checked out by the confused enemy troops. The Skyraiders were equipped with electronic warfare equipment to jam the radio frequencies used by the MiG ground controllers. We wanted to create as much enemy confusion on the objective area as we could deliver. The two formations had to fly higher than the Talons normally flew when operating normally as a covert single-ship. We had to sacrifice some altitude to ensure that the width of the corridor we had to have would keep us at safe levels during possible formation break ups. The higher altitudes made it impossible to avoid detection by the North Vietnamese early warning radar at Na San, west of the infiltration route. During mission planning we calculated that our exposure would be just over four minutes for the Assault Formation and about three minutes for the Strike Formation. If everything went as planned, this exposure to the Na San radar would occur while the formations were between 39 and 26 minutes away from Son Tay. Our plan was to distract the radar operators by having the Navy simulate an attack against Hanoi and Haiphong by fighters from Task Force 77, which had three US aircraft carriers in the Gulf of Tonkin. In addition, we had USAF F-4s and F 105s from Thailand converging on the air refueling tankers southwest of Na San, over Laos. The hope was that the combination of threatening fighter-bombers over North Vietnam’s two most important cities and on the aerial tankers where they would normally begin assembling before attacking targets in the North, would be enough of a distraction to allow the Assault and the Strike Formations to slip past the Na San radar. The F-4s were provided in case the North Vietnamese sent MiGs to intercept the formations and the F-105s were Wild Weasels used to suppress any surface-to-air missile (SAM) and p AIR FORCE & NAVY TRACKS Tracks and orbits of Air Force assault and Navy diversionary aircraft. 14 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │Fall 2013 www.aircommando.org anti-aircraft artillery (AAA) sites. The F-4s and F-105s, were scheduled to be over Son Tay by the time we descended from the mountains into the Red and Black river valley basin. They were to remain on station, keeping the enemy defenses focused on their high altitude intrusions until we exited the valley about 45 minutes later. The Green Berets had trained to accomplish the prisoner rescue in under 30 minutes. Hopefully, high altitude jets would draw all the SAM and AAA fire and divert attention from the low level flyers. The initial point for the Assault Formation was over a small dam on the Black River that was 10.9 miles away from the POW camp. At this point the helicopter formation would descend to 800 ft. and head straight for the camp. At 3.5 miles out, Cherry 01 would abandon the helicopter formation, accelerate and climb to its flare drop altitude of 1,500 ft. Two helicopters, Apples 04 and 05, would follow Cherry 01as back-ups for the flare drop. Cherry 01 would drop four flares precisely over the compound and begin a slow teardrop turn dropping one battle simulator over a highway intersection, another one over a river bridge that any Vietnamese counterattack force would have to cross. This was followed by a napalm bomb drop between the ammo storage and SAM training school. After the Assualt Formation broke up, the helicopters would re-form in trail behind Apple 03, which served as the gunship. Banana and Apples 01 and 02 were to follow at reduced airspeeds, giving themselves enough separation for sequential landings. Apple 03 would fly over the camp, use its mini-guns to take out the guard towers and then attack the guard barracks before turning left to land in a nearby rice paddy. Banana would land inside of the courtyard as soon as Apple 03 was clear. Apple 01 and 02 would land outside the camp and secure the area. Cherry 01 was planned to fly to the Laotian border from where it would provide direction finder steers for the Apples and Peaches returning from the raid. Apple 04 and 05 would land on the island in a large lake nearby and respond to the events as needed. The Strike Formation was planned to reach the same initial point two minutes behind the Assault Formation at 3,000 ft. This was also the initial orbiting altitude for the Skyraiders. They were to fly the final heading toward the flares over the camp on their own. Fire from the napalm bombs would provide them with orbital points once the flare light was gone. Cherry 02 would descend to 1,500 ft. and at 4 miles out execute a slow right hand turn back to the initial point. During the turn and continuing after, it would drop two fire simulators, two napalm bomb markers and several railroad flares. After crossing the initial point it was planned to establish an orbit and record all radio transmissions (relay any of them if necessary) and monitor exit of the raiding force across the Black River. Once everyone was out and across this river, Cherry 02 was to proceed to the Skyline TACAN and monitor everyone’s exit toward Thailand. In our early planning we hoped that we could get the US Navy from the Gulf of Tonkin to create a diversion for us so that the enemy’s focus would be toward the east while we approached Son Tay from the west. We didn’t get a commitment from the Navy for this until Gen Manor and Col. Simons visited the Task Force 77, in the Tonkin Gulf, two weeks before the raid. The aircraft carriers began launching aircraft at 1:00AM and provided a hell of a show with three attack tracks dropping flares around the port of Haiphong. Much to the Navy pilots’ disappointment, they were restricted from dropping bombs on or near Hanoi and Haiphong. Ten minutes after Banana landed inside the compound, Capt Meadows informed that there were no prisoners in Son Tay. Less than 30 minutes after the initial assault, all the raiders and the 5 HH-53s were airborne and heading back to Thailand. Cherry 02 was the last aircraft out of the objective area, jamming the North Vietnamese ground controller frequencies and being available to direct the rescue forces should any aircraft be shot down. Cherry 02 was prepared with three Fulton recovery kits on board. Once the assault force had cleared the area, Cherry 02 departed west and followed. Over the Plain of Jars in northeast Laos, Cherry 02 picked up the survival beacons of the F-105 crew that had been hit by the SA-2 over Son Tay. Col Blosch, the aircraft commander orbited over the Wild Weasel crew and began to run the Fulton recovery checklist. It proved to be unnecessary, though, as Apples 04 and 05 refueled from an HC-130 and returned to join Cherry 02 orbiting over the downed crewmen. At first light Apple 04 picked up the pilot and Apple 05 recovered the EWO. Cherry 02 and the two helicopters then returned to Udorn RTAFB. We started in Florida planning air operations for 13 “Fruit Salad” raiding aircraft. We knew that more support aircraft would be added to the force once we got ready for the raid in Thailand. We didn’t think that it would escalate to 57 Air Force aircraft that eventually participated in the raid. We never envisioned that the Navy would also respond by using 59 aircraft. Consequently, it turned out to be the biggest nighttime operation of the Vietnam War up to that time. Twenty SAMs were fired against the Navy. Sixteen against the USAF. That was also the biggest missile battle up to that time. We started it all believing that we could do it all with only 13 “Fruit Salad” aircraft lead by 2 Combat Talons. Both Talons executed their well- rehearsed role flawlessly. If the POWs had not been relocated, our Jolly Green Giant helicopters would have returned with at least five dozen freed American POWs. In retrospect, the mission was not a disastrous failure because it resulted in improved treatment of our imprisoned colleagues. We can now say that we accomplished our secondary goal by sending a clear message to the North Vietnamese that we dared to conduct a rescue effort by invading their homeland and by letting our POWs know that they were not forgotten. About the Author: Col. (Ret) John Gargus served in all Combat Talon units, Spear, Knife and Arrow, mostly as an instructor navigator. While at Pope AFB he participated in flight testing of Mod 70 Talons and wrote needed manuals and training aids. In the 7th SOS he ran the Mod 70 ground school and with Cherry One pilot Bill Guenon checked out all their crews. He authored the book “Son Tay Raid – American POWs in Vietnam Were Not Forgotten” and was inducted into the ACA Hall of Fame in 2003. It was in August of 1978 when I first came to Hurlburt Field for initial checkout in the Combat Talon weapons system. I had spent a short tour flying EC-130Es in SEA followed by four long years in West Texas instructing mostly middle-easterners on how to fly the T-37 aircraft, and then two very challenging years in Air Force Recruiting Service. While in SEA, my path crossed with an odd looking C-130 aircraft that I later learned was a Combat Talon. In 1977, I had taken a trip to the Military Personnel Center at Randolph AFB, Texas and had an assignment session with then Maj Jim Hobson, who was in charge of filling Air Force Special Operations personnel requirements. From that meeting, I secured my first assignment to the MC-130E. I would spend the remainder of my 30 year career in special operations flying this very special aircraft. The Combat Talon was unique in Fall 2013 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │ 15 16 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │Fall 2013 www.aircommando.org its appearance as it sat on the Hurlburt Field flight line that afternoon in 1978. It was painted nearly all black with just a bit of dark green camouflage, and the nose of the aircraft had a distinctive radome with ‘whiskers’ folded back. From my first day at Hurlburt Field, I was totally enamored with the Combat Talon aircraft, its mission, and most of all, the people who flew and supported it. Of all the capabilities found in the MC-130E, perhaps the most famous was the Fulton Surface-to-Air Recovery System (STARS), famous in part because of an early James Bond movie featuring a Fulton recovery sequence and enhanced later by a John Wayne film titled, ‘The Green Berets’. To be a part of a Fulton aircrew or a member of the ground party supporting the operation was something very special. To this day, I still have some of my most treasured ‘war stories’ associated with the Fulton recovery system. Over the years, two questions have repeatedly surfaced: What exactly is the Fulton recovery system? And how does it work? Taken primarily from my book titled, The Praetorian STARShip: The Untold Story of the Combat Talon, published by Air University Press in 2001, the following is a not-so-short answer to those two questions. What exactly is the Fulton recovery system? In 1965, the C-130E was the newest model aircraft in the C-130 series and marked a significant increase in capability over the earlier C-130A and C-130B model aircraft. A removable tubular V yoke tested on the earlier model aircraft was redesigned by Lockheed engineers and transformed into a fully retractable, hydraulically operated unit mounted permanently on the nose of the aircraft. The configuration required redesign of the nose radome, which resulted in the characteristic nose found on early Combat Talons. Fulton equipment located in the cargo compartment was removable and installed on the aircraft dependent on mission tasking. More than 75 USAF C-130 aircraft, including the 14 original E model Combat Talons, were eventually modified with the Fulton system. The Combat Talon Fulton system consisted of a yoke assembly, sky anchor, davit assembly, manual davit winch, two hydraulically operated winches, ramp air deflectors, ramp guards, parahooks, miscellaneous recovery equipment, recovery kits, control panels, and fending lines (See Recovery Equipment-Typical Illustration Fulton 1.0). The yoke assembly was designed to fold back along the fuselage of the aircraft when not required for Fulton operations. The sky anchor, located at the apex of the yoke, was mounted internally in the upper nose section of the aircraft. The davit assembly was a V-shaped boom mounted on the cargo ramp floor; it provided a means of raising the retrieved package over the aft end of the ramp and lowering it to the ramp. Two hydraulically operated winches were included in the Talon configuration. The winches were mounted, one above the other, on the cargo compartment floor just forward of the ramp hinge and were designed to retrieve the lift line after the sky anchor secured it to the nose of the aircraft (See Winch Assembly and Controls Illustration Fulton 1.1). The top winch was the primary winch, and the bottom winch was the standby. To decrease windblast around the ramp area during recovery operations with the ramp lowered, a buffer board was mounted on each side of the cargo ramp. Three protective guards were attached to the aft end of the ramp to provide protection for the lift line during recovery. The yoke was controlled from the yoke panel at the pilot’s station. The sky anchor was controlled from the sky anchor control box just forward of the left paratroop door. The winches were operated by control handles on the winch platform. To retrieve the line, a torpedo-shaped parahook was provided. The parahook, which closely resembled a conventional iron bomb, had a hook on each side and was used to hook and retrieve the lift line. The parahook was attached to a recovery line, which passed through a portable pulley assembly mounted above the ramp in the cargo compartment of the aircraft. After passing through the pulley assembly, the recovery line was attached to the standby winch. The parahook and recovery line were deployed to retrieve the lift line trajectory beneath the airplane and had to be maneuvered until the lift line was hooked. Airspeed of the aircraft directly affected the trajectory of the parahook, with higher airspeeds and heavier packages requiring a heavier parahook. One 30-pound and one 75-pound parahook were provided for lift-line recovery. When not in use, the parahooks were stowed in the retrieval equipment stowage box located on the aircraft. Miscellaneous recovery equipment included in the Fulton recovery kit consisted of a cleat bar, portable pulley assembly, snatch blocks, pilot’s hooks, anchor clamp, and personnel restraint harnesses. All the miscellaneous Winch Assembly and Controls Illustration Fulton 1.1 Recovery Equipment-Typical Illustration Fulton 1.0 Fall 2013 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │ 17 www.aircommando.org recovery equipment was stowed in the retrieval equipment storage box in the forward cargo compartment. One pilot’s hook was stowed on brackets on the flight-station aft bulkhead. The cleat bar, which mounted on the aft right side of the ramp floor, contained two cleats. The cleats were used to secure the lift line when removing the snatch block from the line. The portable pulley hooked into the overhead structure above the aft center of the ramp. The pulley was used to raise the davit assembly when the recovery package reached the ramp. The snatch block was used to pull enough slack in the lift line to enable the lift line to be secured to the cleat bar. The pilot’s hook was used in the cockpit to pull the lift line into the airplane, where the line could be cut to release the balloon connector end. Personnel restraint harnesses were used by personnel working on the ramp during recovery when the ramp was lowered. The anchor kit consisted of ground anchor stakes, anchor tie-lines, shovels, sledgehammers, and operating instructions for the use of the ground anchor equipment. Two types of ground anchor stakes were provided in the kit: one, with movable spades, was used for normal, compacted soil; the other, a shorter stake with a sharp spike, was used for ice and frozen ground. The ground anchor components were placed in the drop kit when forecast surface winds were more than approximately 20 knots and were air-dropped with the recovery kit to personnel on the ground. Two propeller guard cables, known as fending lines, were provided to protect the lift line from striking the propellers head-on in the event the pilot missed the line with the yoke. The fending lines also protected the pickup package from movement in the event of a miss. Early fending lines did not have cutter knives installed; rather, they relied on the aircraft’s propeller to cut the line in case of a miss. These early fending lines placed the lift line in an optimum position so that it could be properly cut by the propeller without danger of having the line ingested into the engine. A later modification installed cutter knives on the fending line to cut the pickup line automatically if missed by the yoke. The fending lines were attached to the outboard end of each wing tip and to a point just aft of the sky anchor and were stowed in the cargo compartment when the airplane was not configured for recovery operations. An aerial sight was provided for the pilot to align the airplane with the lift line during lift-line engagement. The intercept sight was a portable optical instrument that attached to a mount located over the pilot’s forward windshield. The sight contained a two- position toggle switch and a rheostat that controlled the brilliance of the reticule projected on the reflector plate. When the sight was not in use, it was stowed behind the pilot’s seat. How does it work? Normal System Operation: The recovery operation began with the airdrop of the recovery kit. The kit was configured either for water or for land use and was delivered at 130 KIAS. Following recovery kit deployment, the ramp crew installed the necessary recovery equipment (such as the overhead pulley, snatch block, and anchor clamp), set the sky anchor to its ready position, turned on the hydraulic pressure switch to the two winches, donned safety harnesses, and prepared to lower the parahook. The forward escape hatch was removed, and the pilot’s hook was removed from its stowed position. The aircraft was slowed to recovery airspeed, the yoke extended, the ramp and door opened, and the aircraft was flown upwind into the lift line between the upper and lower markers (See Recovery - Sequence of Operation, Plate A Fulton 1.2). Upon contact with the yoke, the lift line was guided into the sky anchor, where it was locked to the airplane. At that time the balloon broke free, the upper part of the lift line flowed aft over the upper fuselage, and the lower part trailed in an arc under the fuselage (See Recovery - Sequence of Operation, Plate B Fulton 1.2). The ramp crew hooked the lift line using the parahook. At the forward flight station, the upper part of the lift line was drawn into the aircraft through the overhead escape hatch using the pilot’s hook, and excess line was cut off. The end attached to the sky anchor was held until the sky anchor was released. At the ramp the parahook was raised by the primary winch and the overhead pulley, thus drawing the lift line aboard the ramp and a snatch block, attached at one end to the standby winch, was connected to the lift line below the parahook, and the winch was reeled in until the snatch block neared the winch (See Recovery - Sequence of Operation, Plates C and D Fulton 1.3). An anchor clamp, attached at one end to a tie-down just forward of the winch platform, was then clamped to the lift line as far back as possible, and the standby winch was reeled out until the anchor clamp and tie-down line assumed the lift-line load. When enough slack in the lift line was Sequence of Operation, Plate A Fulton 1.2 Recovery - Sequence of Operation, Plates C and D Fulton 1.3 18 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │Fall 2013 www.aircommando.org available, the lift line was tied to the cleat bar (See Recovery - Sequence of Operation, Plates E and F Fulton 1.4). The parahook, overhead pulley, primary winch drum, and the snatch block were removed and carried forward past the ramp hinge to clear the working area on the ramp. An empty drum was then installed on the primary winch (See Recovery - Sequence of Operation, Plate G Fulton 1.5). With the lift line positively locked to the aircraft by the cleat bar and the anchor clamp, the sky anchor was released. When the sky anchor had been released, the lift line was pulled through the sky anchor from the ramp (See Recovery - Sequence of Operation, Plate H Fulton 1.5). Once the loose end of the lift line was retrieved by the ramp crew, a knot was tied in the end of the lift line, and it was inserted into the detent on the primary winch drum. The slack lift line was then fed on to the drum. Just before the primary winch assumed the load, the lift line was untied from the cleat bar. The primary winch continued to reel in until the anchor clamp could be removed from the lift line. After the anchor clamp had been removed, the lift line was reeled in at maximum speed until the davit was ready to be installed, at which time the reel in was stopped. The davit was moved under the lift line, and the pip pin was installed over the line. The davit was locked to the ramp floor, and the lift line was forced under the forward davit roller. After the davit was installed and the lift line was forced under the roller, the primary winch was reengaged and operated at maximum speed until the package approached the ramp. Concurrently, the davit rotation line was attached to the standby winch. As the package neared the ramp, the primary winch was slowed gradually and was stopped when the package harness reached the davit roller (See Recovery - Sequence of Operation, Plate J Fulton 1.6). The standby winch was then reeled in to rotate the davit, and the ramp crew stabilized the package and attached the retention line to the D ring on the package harness. The primary winch was then reeled out, allowing the package to descend to the ramp with excess slack in the lift line. The package was then moved forward of the ramp hinge line where it could be safely detached from the lift line and retention line (See Recovery - Sequence of Operation, Plate K Fulton 1.6). Multiple recoveries were possible and were usually made during training. Pilots, Flight Engineers, and Loadmasters all had semi-annual requirements, which were usually filled during ‘Fulton Week’ scheduled for two or three times a year. In the early years, requirements were so demanding that, according to Russ Darden, pilots became so proficient that they challenged themselves by engaging the lift line without extending the yokes. There was about six inches to play with (three inches either side of dead center) where the lift line would enter the skyanchor hub resulting in normal operation of the system. When one crew just missed and had the lift line take off a pitot tube, Russ recalls an FCIF restricting STAR engagements only when the yokes were full extended. There are many other stories, some funny and some not so much, of adventures involving the STAR system. When we get together in the fall or in the spring for our Combat Talon reunions, these stories are told and retold. It has always amazed me how stories change over the years, but the basic facts remain the same. About the Author: Col (Ret) Jerry Thigpen spent 31 years in special operations, flew over 1000 combat hours in SEA and later served as the commander of the 8 SOS and the 353rd SOG. He was a primary aircrew participant during the workup and execution of Operation Eagle Claw and participated in post-Desert One activities during Operation Honey Badger. He authored the book “The Praetorian Starship: The Untold Story of the Combat Talon”. For Combat Talon inquires please email the author at: jerry-mary_thigpen@att.net. Recovery - Sequence of Operation, Plates E and F Fulton 1.4 Recovery - Sequence of Operation, Plate G Fulton 1.5 Recovery - Sequence of Operation, Plate K Fulton 1.6 Fall 2013 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │ 19 www.aircommando.org It was just another bright, sunny afternoon in Masirah, an island just off the Arabian Peninsula. Combat Talon MC-130E (#64-0565) was taxiing out to begin a mission that would eventually contribute to a major evolution of US Air Force special operations. The aircraft commander taxied the aircraft into position on the runway. Preparing for takeoff, under strict radio silence, he asked the flight engineer, MSgt Bubba Almanzar for the usual takeoff data. “I don’t have that information,” he replied. “The flight manuals were left behind to lighten the load.” “What’s takeoff speed?” queried the pilot. The flight engineer answered, “Just check the engines at max power, release brakes and when we get to the end of the runway – rotate!” There was really no need for the takeoff data, since the charts did not cover extreme weight of this bird— estimated at above 190,000 lbs. Maximum gross weight for the C-130 is 155,000 lbs, and even the Emergency War Plan (EWP) max gross weight is 175,000 lbs. So, we pushed the engines to the firewall, released the brakes, and rolled and rolled and rolled down the runway. Finally, the Combat Talon leapt into the air as the runway disappeared under the nose. It was 24 April 1980, and the attempt to rescue 49 hostages held by the Iranian Revolutionary Guard at the US Embassy in Tehran – Operation Eagle Claw – had begun. The vast majority of current and former special operators are quite familiar with what happened that night at Desert One and the tragic immediate consequences and aftermath of the mission. So, this is not an attempt to recount those specifics, but rather to give the various perspectives from a few of the crewmembers who were involved. The intent is also to share information on some of the procedures and techniques during the five months of preparation for the mission. The story of Eagle Claw actually began a few months before members of the Revolutionary Guard stormed the US Embassy in Tehran and held American citizens hostage (4 Nov 1979). In August of 1979, the annual Combat Talon Management Review (CTMR) conference was held at Hurlburt Field. During the CTMR, aircrew personnel from the 1st SOS at Kadena AB, Okinawa, presented a briefing on the feasibility of using night vision goggles (NVGs) for fixed wing, blacked-out approaches and landings. The conclusion drawn at the time was that although NVGs were successfully being used by helicopter crews, NVG landings were not possible with fixed wing aircraft. In mid-November 1979, I was the Chief Pilot at the 8th SOS. Lt Col Les Smith, the Operations Officer, contacted me at Hurlburt Field via secure phone and told me to go to the command post for a secure call. Les had been dispatched to the Pentagon with two other mission planners on the 16th of November and was busily working the difficult problem of infiltration and exfiltration routing for Operation Rice Bowl. This was the cover name for the mission to rescue the hostages from the embassy in Iran. It may seem strange in today’s age of advanced technology and widespread secure communications equipment, but in 1979 the command post was the only location on base that had a secure communications capability. Picture a telephone “booth” within the command center—that was it. During that phone call I was directed to select two crews and begin training that evening utilizing NVGs. Our task was to develop appropriate cockpit procedures for blacked-out landings. It had already been determined that the MC-130E Combat Talon was the appropriate airframe for this mission because it offered the combination of inflight refueling, terrain following radar, defensive countermeasures, and precision navigation capabilities needed for the operation. This was also before GPS systems were standard aircraft equipment, so we used a suction cup to mount an antenna for a commercial GPS to the window over the pilot’s head. The Talon crews also had the necessary training in blacked-out, short field takeoffs and landings. That first training sortie was an adventure. Initially, the copilot in the right seat, wearing NVGs, would fly the aircraft using visual cues and receiving Aircraft on the ramp at Masirah Island - preparing for the mission. One of the major requirements we needed to solve was how to refuel the helicopters at Desert One. The USMC RH- 53s were not equipped for aerial refueling. In the months before the hostages were taken, we had finished testing the procedures to airdrop 5,000 lb blivet to the SEALs in order to refuel their boats in the open ocean. We found that two G-12D parachutes and a 15 ft extraction chute as a pilot chute worked well. Col Foley and his Army team from the Airborne Board designed a system where a single C-130 could airdrop five blivets, each mounted on a 463L pallet, and a package of pumps, hoses, and filters. They determined that the G-11A parachute was better suited for the operation. They attached the system to the airplane anchor cable via simultaneous release static lines. Although the experienced Talon loadmasters totally disagreed with this procedure, we were told they were the experts. Our tests using a single blivet showed the fuel could be delivered safely and accurately. In January, three Talons deployed to Davis Monthan AFB for a full rehearsal. We rigged the aircraft for simultaneous release per the instructions from the Airborne Board, but asked to substitute intermediate release gates in order to separate the blivets as they exited the aircraft. The testers determined that a delay system was not required. All three aircraft suffered damage during the airdrops. The left anchor cable was snapped in two at the troop doors on my aircraft. The second Talon had both aft anchor arms torn from the aircraft. Number 3 had one anchor cable torn in two at the wheel well and the other aft anchor cable arm ripped from the aircraft. And, most of the fuel blivets streamed into the ground and were destroyed. After landing, we debriefed and the airborne radar approach (ARA) directions from the navigators. The idea was for the aircraft commander in the left seat to take over control at the final portion of the approach and make the landing without using NVGs. After a few very hard landings by the initial trainees and problems with depth perception, we changed the procedures and the aircraft commander in the left seat began wearing the goggles. The copilot still flew the ARA on the instrument gauges down to the minimum approach altitude. Once the aircraft commander located the runway, he took over visually and landed the aircraft. This technique proved to be the safest and most sensible solution, and it became the standard procedure for all aircrews. Due to the highly classified nature of Operation Rice Bowl, the initial cadre of operators and planners were required to maintain strict secrecy which resulted in some early difficulties. The NVGs available were the first generation PVS-5s. The only NVGs at Hurlburt Field were the property of the 20th SOS, our helicopter-flying, sister squadron. We managed to borrow a handful of sets from them, which raised a few eyebrows since a few months earlier it had been determined that NVGs were not compatible for fixed wing flight. Also, the squadron commander, Lt Col Roland Guidry, had been recently assigned and was still going through the MC-130E upgrade program. Due to newness, he was unfamiliar with the crewmembers’ individual skills. As he was not yet mission qualified he not been briefed on any of the Rice Bowl training plans or operational information. Fortunately, he accepted that we were “involved” in something and did not pursue the issue. The same situation was true for our wing vice commander, Col TWA Stuart, who had also not been briefed on the operation. The wing commander, Col Dick Dunwoody, had been dispatched to Guam with the AC-130 gunship contingent (Editor’s note: this deployment was covered by Lt Col Jim Lawrence in Air Commando Journal, Vol 1, Issue 4, Summer 2012). This awkward situation was a problem during the first week of our training – we were flying at night and crew resting during the day, thus the pressure to maintain operational security (OPSEC) was considerable. I finally requested that the Pentagon brief my immediate bosses in order to relieve me from being questioned about our activities. Once this was accomplished, it made life easier for everyone. As a group, we expected a deployment to somewhere at any moment, but once it was realized that training and planning would drag on, it became necessary to brief an increasing number of personnel. Amazingly, OPSEC was strictly maintained for the next five months. At this point, I need to speak to the prevailing attitudes among all the crewmembers in the 8th SOS during this initial training phase. After a few days of unusual activity in the squadron, together with the headlines in the media, people were putting two and two together. As the acting ops officer, hardly a day went by without one or more individuals popping into my office to volunteer (and practically beg) to become involved with “whatever the hell is going on.” And, of course, as time passed, the need to train more crews was recognized. Those initial two crews evolved over the next few months to become five crews. Together with the three crews of the 1st SOS, under the command of Lt Col Ray Turczynski, this made up the final fixed wing contingent that would eventually fly the Eagle Claw mission in April. The desire to become involved in this operation, no matter the risk, was – and remains today – a hallmark of all special operations personnel. Now, how did we go about training to develop helicopter refueling procedures? In order to Desert One Loadmaster Challenges By CMSgt (Ret) Taco Sanchez 20 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │Fall 2013 www.aircommando.org achieve the objective of refueling helicopters at a designated location, it was initially decided to airdrop 5,000 lb blivets loaded on pallets. The initial attempt of a one blivet drop was successful. Next, we needed to increase the load to five blivets in order to carry enough fuel for the rendezvous helicopters to complete the mission. In the early weeks of December 1979, training deployments to Arizona tested the concept and it was a failure. During a two-ship airdrop at Yuma, as the multiple pallets exited the aircraft, the acceleration forces caused spacing problems and the pallets literally piled up, resulting in parachute deployment failure. The fuel blivets ruptured upon ground impact. In order to remedy the problem, a gate system was devised by the loadmasters and this allowed enough spacing between the individual pallets to permit safe exit from the aircraft. Using this revised procedure, the next airdrop mission was successful. However, a new problem arose. Upon ground impact, the blivets were so far apart that it took significantly more time for the Army Ranger team already on the ground to move the blivets into position to refuel the helicopters. Air-dropping blivets proved to be a feasible approach to refuel the helicopters, but only as a last resort. Another possible option was to land a C-130 with the required amount of fuel in bladders onboard the aircraft and use ground refueling equipment to refuel the helicopters. This would ensure the security of the fuel, however a suitable landing/ rendezvous location would have to be located. The decision was made to use EC-130E aircraft from the airborne battlefield command, control, and communications squadron at Keesler AFB, MS, because they could be refueled inflight and had the necessary hardware in the cargo area to transport the fuel bladders. The expanded numbers of fixed wing assets provided the flexibility to carry both the necessary fuel load and the required ground forces (Special Forces, 1/75 Rangers, and CCT) needed for mission success. Ultimately, airlanding the fuel and troops to rendezvous with USMC helicopters at the Desert One landing site became part of the final plan. The months of December 1979 and January 1980 were taken up with numerous training deployments – typically on the weekends – to various locations in the US Southwest. We were developing and refining techniques for blacked-out NVG landings, inflight refueling without communications, airfield seizure, helicopter refueling, and infiltration and exfiltration procedures. This training continued into the spring and by now, the 1st SOS and 8th SOS crews were working closely on all exercises with the Special Forces, the Rangers, and the KC-135 and C-141 crews to develop Day One and Day Two procedures. The two-night plan had been approved in Washington. In mid-April, three MC-130 and three EC-130 aircraft manned by 8th SOS crews were secretly deployed to Wadi Kena (called the Alpha location) in Egypt. Meanwhile, their sister unit, the 1st SOS, was departing Kadena AB with three MC-130s on a clandestine journey through Diego Garcia and final join-up at Wadi Kena. In preparation for Day One, the largest portion of the force transited the Red Sea and set up camp on Masirah Island, Oman. Operation Eagle Claw was about to commence. As suggested at the start of this article, Dragon One’s takeoff roll from the Masirah airfield was longer than usual. Rotation at the end of the runway. Silence! We staggered off and climbed at an unusually low rate due to the heavy gross weight of the aircraft. It was just past 1800 local time. There was no chatter in the cockpit as we leveled off at 1,000 feet. As we crossed the Gulf of Oman, it remained quiet – any engine problems at this point and we would be in trouble. Since it loadmasters developed the intermediate gate system that is still used today for heavy CDS. The next night, the new procedures worked perfectly—all blivets were successfully delivered without incident. The other problem we needed to solve was how to rapidly offload the Rangers and Combat Controllers with their vehicles and equipment. In Nov 1979, there were no procedures for these tactics. We used standard airlift practices and equipment: 10,000 lb chains and locking devices to restrain the gun jeep on the ramp and 5,000 lb cargo straps for the motorcycles. We used the standard ground loading ramps for all onload and offload operations. At first our light configuration was to just dim the white lights. We then switched to red lights. Finally, we settled on just the flag unlock lights for the cargo door as the other lights produced too much light. No one in the cargo compartment was using NVGs when we first started. During the flight the Rangers were seated on the bare floor or in the jeep. We flew for a week or so in this configuration which was both uncomfortable, as well as dangerous. We taught the Rangers to remove the tie-down devices once the ramp was horizontal. During these operations we had numerous incidents of tie down devices and ground loading ramps being inadvertently thrown out of the aircraft or becoming unhooked. I spent a lot of time policing up equipment on the runway while avoiding other landing aircraft and the lost Rangers wandering around the airfield. The loadmasters at Hurlburt got together and came up with an innovative solution to the rapid offload problem. We used 5,000 lb tie-down straps for all vehicles and attached the hook end to the aircraft and the ratchet end at the vehicle so that they stayed connected to the aircraft. We also drilled holes in the attaching points of the ground loading ramps and used safety ties to keep them in place. To improve the conditions for the Rangers sitting on the floor for hours and hours during the infil, we procured old mattresses from DRMO and used tie-down straps to secure them. We called this the “Sealy configuration.” There is better equipment today, but the procedures we developed that winter are still being used today. Fall 2013 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │ 21 www.aircommando.org 22 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │Fall 2013 www.aircommando.org was still daylight, numerous types of ships, boats and other sailing vessels were visible below. Finally, after an hour or so, everything seemed to be going as planned so the crew began to relax a bit, but we had plenty of surprises ahead. En-route to Desert One, we flew a modified terrain following profile, varying from 1,000 to 3,000 feet above the ground. This allowed us to conserve precious fuel and also remain clear of the numerous Iranian observation towers that dotted the country. Official darkness came and all was operating smoothly for the next few hours. That’s when we entered the “haboob” – a severe type of dust storm peculiar to the Middle East and Africa. Would we be able to arrive at our landing zone in the clear? For a while, it seemed we might not be able to rendezvous with the helicopters at the Desert One landing site after all. About half an hour from destination, everyone breathed sighs of relief as we popped out into the clear. We were okay. Five minutes from our objective, the infra-red (IR) landing lights which had been set up weeks before by the “Father of USAF Special Tactics,” Maj John Carney, were remotely switched on from the cockpit. The covert, IR landing lights illuminated and we lined up for a runway clearing pass. On the road to the left of the landing zone, we spotted a truck. In order to remain unobserved, we maneuvered to stay well clear and behind the vehicle and it eventually moved out of sight. During our next attempt to make a surveillance pass, we were in too close and executed a “go-around.” The area seemed clear of obstacles. On the next pass, we landed – an extremely hard landing that took my breath away – and possibly loosened some teeth. I was hoping that the MC-130E would remain in one piece at the completion of the landing roll. It was and I called “Go” – the signal for all the troops in the cargo compartment, Col Charlie Beckwith and his Special Forces and the 1/75th Ranger Battalion airfield seizure team, to exit the aircraft. Looking to my left from the cockpit, on the parallel dirt road, the roadblock team was stopping and surrounding a civilian bus. They quickly secured the vehicle and the 44 (terrified I’m sure) Iranian citizens on board. As we slowly made a 180° degree turn with Dragon One, it confirmed that the nose wheel steering and nose gear were still intact and working properly. What we did not realize at that moment, was that although the aircraft itself was still flyable, the SATCOM secure communications capability had been disabled due to the hard landing. This would prove to be consequential later. We taxied into position for the ensuing takeoff and departure down the Desert One “runway” in the opposite direction from which we had landed. Suddenly, directly ahead of us an immense fireball lit up the sky. An approaching truck had been observed on the road to the west and had been promptly destroyed with an anti-tank weapon. It was a fuel truck and the desert sky was lit up like a giant bonfire blaze. As the remaining fixed wing aircraft began to arrive in the landing area, there was initially some thought that the fireball was due to an aircraft crash. Quickly, they realized through secure communications that Dragon One was safely on the deck. Once all three Dragon birds (MC-130s) and the Republic (EC-130) tankers were safely on the ground and while awaiting the arrival of the RH-53s, a decision had to be made on how to handle the captured bus passengers. It was initially decided that the passengers would be flown out of the area and back to Masirah Island on board Dragon One. Preparations then began to load them up on the Talon. At this point, we had been on the ground for well over an hour so we were carefully monitoring our fuel status. Our requirement was to have enough fuel at takeoff to make it to a pre-determined rendezvous with a KC-135 tanker on the return flight. Before we could load the frightened civilians, however, a search of the cargo compartment was ordered. What now, I thought? Apparently, one of the two Iranian generals who had been accompanying the Special Forces team had suddenly realized he no longer had his loaded revolver in his possession. Perhaps it had been misplaced somewhere on our aircraft? A rapid search of the cargo compartment did not locate the weapon. Rather than risk having one of the Iranian civilians find the loaded pistol, and with time constraints reaching a critical phase, the plan changed to placing the passengers on another C-130. Dragon One was then cleared for takeoff – without the 44 Iranians. As we rolled down the runway, all seemed normal. The copilot, Capt George Ferkes, was calling out the airspeed at 10 knot increments. At about 90 knots, the calls slowed – we were not going to achieve computed takeoff speed. Apparently, the consistency of the sand at Desert One was causing us to bog down and it felt as if we were glued to the surface. As the last IR landing light passed out of sight, and blackness enveloped us, I yanked the nose wheel off the ground and we staggered into the night. Once airborne, we headed back to base, unaware that we did not have secure communications capability. As a result, we did not realize until we had landed that the Eagle Claw mission had been aborted because not enough helicopters had made it to the Desert One site to “The Guts to Try” by James Dietz - US Army Ranger rapid off load at Desert One. accomplish the Day Two objective. What happened afterwards, the unfortunate catastrophe that occurred when Marine Helicopter 3, while repositioning to refuel, collided with Republic 4. Eight crewmembers were lost. Three Marines and five airmen made the ultimate sacrifice. Considering that we had very nearly departed the scene with the bus passengers on board, a “what if” might be in order. What if the lost revolver had been recovered or located and the 44 Iranians had landed with us at Masirah? Would the United States have suddenly been involved in a political stalemate, accused of taking “hostages” to counter the 53 Americans held in Tehran? Would President Carter have allowed the immediate release of the Iranians with no concessions? Or would he have kept them as bargaining chips, demanding the release of the American hostages? Interesting questions to ponder, but no one will ever know the answers. Enroute to Masirah Island, we rendezvoused with the KC-135 tanker using the no comms/blacked- out procedures. Since at that point we had enough fuel on board to safely recover, we elected not to hook up. At this point in the mission, I remember feeling completely exhausted. The adrenaline rush had long since worn off. This was obvious when we began our long descent for landing. The copilot, George, had to continually remind me that I was drifting left on final approach. We made an uneventful landing and taxied to our parking spot. It was early morning and still very dark on the ramp. Expecting to hear some loud exuberance from the ground personnel when the crew door opened – we were safely back and the next portion of the mission was to commence that evening – I was disappointed. It was very quiet and somber. It was then, when our loadmaster Duke Wiley announced in the cockpit that there had been a terrible accident. We spent the next few hours awaiting the recovery of the remaining aircraft. When Republic 6, flown by Maj Jerry Uttaro arrived, they offloaded the injured survivors from Republic 4 and Helicopter 3. Lt Jeff Harrison with minor injuries appeared in shock. The severely burned radio operator, SSgt JJ Beyers, was in critical condition, as were the surviving helicopter crewmembers. It was dawn and the C-141 that had been dispatched to evacuate the injured was landing. The wounded personnel were quickly transferred and soon they were on their way to medical facilities in Europe. Perhaps the most poignant moment that day was when the 8th SOS commander gathered the crews in our tent facility and had an obligatory roll call. As individuals responded with the standard “here” or “present” there was silence five times – Hal Lewis – Lyn McIntosh – Rick Bakke – Tom McMillan – Joel Mayo. Now everyone knew officially that we had lost some of our own. Tears flowed and sadness filled the room. The next few days were a confusing blur of emotions. Our crew was the first to return stateside. Col Tom Wicker, 1st SOW/DO and one of the on-scene commanders at Desert One, had accompanied us on Dragon One during the mission and was with us headed home. International headlines were rampant with stories of the failed rescue attempt and the catastrophic disaster. Flags were at half-mast and our nation mourned. A day after arriving back at Hurlburt Field, I had the unenviable task of accompanying Col Wicker on an official death notification. The saddest moment of all. About the Author: Col (Ret) Robert L. Brenci, is the former commander of the 8th Special Operations Squadron. He is a graduate of the USAF Academy, class of 1963. In April 1980, he was aircraft commander of Dragon One, the lead aircraft for Operation Eagle Claw, the mission to free American hostages held in Iran. Although Rice Bowl/Eagle Claw was unsuccessful, the mission paved the way for future innovations and tremendous growth and expansion of USAF Special Operations Forces. By Col (Ret) Tom Bradley The MC-130Es (Combat Talon) assigned to the 7th Special Operations Squadron (SOS) were involved in the Desert One mission from the very beginning of 1980. From early January until mid-April, 3 of their 4 assigned aircraft deployed from their base at Rhein Main Air Base, Germany, to Wadi Kena Air Base, Egypt, designated Operating Location Alpha, (OLA), for the operation. During that time, the necessary flight routes overflying France and Italy, transiting Naval Air Station Sigonella, and undetected and clandestine routes between Sigonella and Wadi Kena down adjoining air control boundaries between Greece and Northern Africa were investigated and developed. With 7th SOS personal representatives in Italian and Egyptian Ministry of Defense and Civil Aviation Administration headquarters, these flight routes were established for the future use for the positioning of the Air Force Component forces in Desert One. Daily flights out of Wadi Kena from January through April, 1980, provided the signature for “normal” air operations required for operations security and communications security to cover future Desert One air activities. One specific and extremely sensitive mission involved a 7th SOS Combat Talon equipped with the Fulton Surface to Air Recovery (STAR) system. On 30 March 1980, the aircraft was flown from Wadi Kena to Seeb International Airport in Northern Oman. On the night of 31 March, a joint CIA/USAF three-man team, consisting of Jim Rhyne, Bud McBroom and John Carney flew a civilian DHC-6 Twin Otter into central Iran to find and prepare the landing site for Phase 1 of Desert One. The Combat Talon and crew, with a small support team sat strip alert, for the possible rescue of these three in the event of mechanical or other problems involving the Twin Otter. The 7th SOS crew and aircraft were prepared to fly to the location in Iran, drop a two-man and a one- man STAR kit and recover the personnel back to Seeb. The Twin Otter and crew safely returned to Seeb on the morning of 1 April having successfully completed this critical and clandestine mission, and the 7th SOS crew returned to Wadi Kena. Fall 2013 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │ 23 www.aircommando.org Secret Preparations for EAGLE CLAW By (then) Capt Bob Meller It was April 1980, and my crew was at Wadi Kena, Egypt, waiting for word of how the Night One insertion of the joint task force (JTF) into the Desert One site was going, I asked Col Bob Pinard, 1st SOW Chief of Maintenance and my former 1st SOS squadron commander from Okinawa, where he had found a glass of bourbon on this arid Egyptian night. He stopped, turned to me and the majority of my crew and said, “Bob, here’s a toast to a successful mission. They’re airborne out of Masirah.” Operation Eagle Claw, after almost six months of intense, exciting and truly innovative preparation, had finally begun. After a fitful night of attempted sleep, occasional trips to the JTF Command Center, I watched the sun rise out of our eastern exposure and noticed Maj Gen James Vaught’s radio operator walking out of the command post bunker with all his gear. He had bunked with our crew and was going to fly with us that second night as General Vaught’s radio operator. He would be an integral part of the crew of Dragon One, the lead Combat Talon on Night Two. We would be the first in and the last out. I asked him why he was taking all his gear and he just kept walking towards a truck where Maj Jack Launder, one of my navigators, was standing. Jack yelled that Hal Lewis’ EC-130 refueler and a helicopter had had an accident, that there were eight dead, and the Night Two mission was scrubbed. We were in shock. Col Pinard came into the hangar and officially told us the tragic news that Hal, Lyn McIntosh, Rick Bakke, Tom McMillan, and Joel Mayo were dead. He also said that JJ Byers was in real bad shape and Jeff Harrison was injured. Even though I had lost close friends, my first thought was, “…, we FAILED”. Introduction: I was the Stan/Eval Chief and Combat Talon pilot for the 1st SOW in Nov 79. I was fortunate enough to be chosen as one of the first aircraft commanders for the Iran Hostage Rescue mission. It was, without a doubt, the most rewarding, exhilarating, and fulfilling time in my entire 24-year, Air Force career. And, it was also the worst. The things we did and the procedures we developed, literally “on the fly,” are still being used today. My crew, with the exception of my loadmasters TSgt Dave Chesser and SSgt Ron Thomas, who flew on Capt Russ Tharp’s aircraft, did not fly to Desert One on Night One. Our job was to lead the recovery of Special Forces, Rangers, and hostages on Night Two. The plan was for Chesser and Thomas to rejoin us at Wadi Kena for the Night Two mission. To quote Charles Dickens, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times….” Reflections/Observations: Sympathetic aborts: In 1979 the Air Force was using peacetime operating procedures. The tankers back then belonged to the old Strategic Air Command (SAC), which is where the bombers, tankers, and strategic missiles 24 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │Fall 2013 www.aircommando.org Abandoned Soviet aircraft hangar at Wadi Kena, Egypt used as Ops Center for Eagle Claw. Fall 2013 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │ 25 www.aircommando.org were assigned. Typically, when one tanker aborted from a training mission, the wingman did a “sympathetic” abort and did not take off either. One night over Texas during one of the first major rehearsals for the Night One mission, we experienced the effects of a sympathetic abort just as our flight of MC-130s approached the air refueling initial point. Without tankers we had to cancel the mission and the entire joint task force had to return to our starting point. Col Kyle had a serious talk with the SAC liaison who was not allowed to tell the tanker crews what the implications of their abort had caused, but from then on, there were no more sympathetic aborts. The tanker crews got the message very quickly and were always there whenever we needed them. The boom operators did have little bit of learning curve doing things at low altitude, slower than they normally did with the bombers and fighters, no-communications, blacked-out, and with those big props spinning in the dark. One night, while we were on someone’s right wing, waiting our turn to refuel, we could see the “boomer” was having a difficult time plugging in. He was bouncing the probe all over the top of the Talon. Even during blacked- out refueling, we kept the slipway lights on, but he was having a real bad night. He finally plugged in, but the Talon crew got a bit scared that night. As the training and rehearsals progressed, though, the boomers got better and we never again had to worry about them not begin able to make the contact. Blonde Flight: Several Talons were winging west again, this time using a “Blonde” call sign. We reached the point where we needed to descend and enter low-level to the objective area. Blonde Lead called air traffic control to cancel our instrument flight rules (IFR) clearance. Once the controller cleared us to descend on that clear, dark night over the western US, he asked, “Where are all you blondes going tonight?” There was nothing but silence from the Blondes. “Well, be good,” he said. Field 6 Landing: Before heading west one night, we had to pick up a load of Army Rangers at Eglin Auxiliary Field #6, which is at Camp Rudder, the home of the Ranger training camp. Field #6 is about five minutes flying time from Hurlburt. It is also a relatively short runway with no navigation aids. As it is isolated, in the middle of the Eglin Range Complex, we had practiced NVG landings there. Despite all the new, innovative, and somewhat dangerous things we had been doing, the approach and landing that night was as intense as it gets. It was truly a “dark and stormy night” and a lot was packed into those five minutes. We had a heavy aircraft and there were severe thunderstorms in the vicinity. We had the blackout curtain up in the cockpit to keep the front as dark as possible. Because of the short duration of the flight, we had not planned for an NVG landing. Also, we feared that a lightning flash at the worst moment would black out the PVS-5 goggles. The right navigator, Jack Launder, kept the KA-band radar expertly tuned to the field while the left navigator, Joe McBride, monitored the inertial navigation system. It was raining really hard and although it was a sweet approach, it made for a true white knuckle landing. All four Talons landed safely, picked up the soldiers, and the rest of that night’s training came off without a problem. Sniper Perch: After the concept of airdropping the fuel blivets did not provide the results that the JTF leadership had hoped for (Editor’s note: See Bob Brenci and Taco Sanchez’ article, this edition.), the planners chose the airfield seizure option. Several isolated airstrips in the US’ southwestern desert areas were used to practice this option. The remote, Iranian airfield initially chosen as the helicopter refueling site, code named “Fez” had a small building at the end of the runway that needed immediate attention as the first aircraft rolled out. “Taco” Sanchez, one of our loadmasters, and a Ranger planner brainstormed the idea of removing the flight deck overhead escape hatch, installing a stabilized shooting seat, and lighting up the building and occupants on roll out. I suggested a side limiter to restrict shooting into the props. This idea was eventually unnecessary when the leadership decided to forego an airfield seizure and use a suitable landing area in the Iranian desert for Night One, the Desert One site. Ranger Training: An airfield seizure was always the plan for Night Two and had been for most of the planning for Night One, also. This meant continuous training with the Ranger company assigned to the mission. As an airfield seizure is an extremely complex operation, this required extensive ground training and a series of full mission profile rehearsals. We learned early on that following proper aircraft ground movement after landing was critical to the Rangers’ execution of their mission. Having the aircraft in the wrong parking location or getting out of sequence on the ground could and, unfortunately did, cause problems and injuries. One of the lessons we learned was to make John Carney’s combat controllers responsible for controlling aircraft movements on the ground. The Ranger task force commander, Col Williford, emphatically stressed to us that his Rangers would always get the job done, but we must put them in the correct place to do it. C-141 NVG Training: Prior to Eagle Claw, there was no such thing as the Special Operations Low Level (SOLL) capability in Military Airlift Command’s (MAC) conventional force. I was sent to Charleston AFB, SC, to train the C-141 instructor crews in NVG landings. We began the flying training down at Hurlburt with a day sortie using heavily-tinted welding goggles instead of NVGs. We found that the images, minus the green speckled effect that occurred in the NVG light tubes, were strikingly similar to the actual NVG visuals. The C-141 crews were fully on board and eager to be a part of the mission. The MAC general that flew on the training sorties with us offered me a job as a C-5 pilot at Dover if I ever wanted to get into “Big MAC.” I declined. Breakfast at Norton: After one major rehearsal, the Air Force contingent recovered at Norton AFB in the early morning hours. Since operational security was always a top priority for us, I was shocked to realize that I still had the mission plans and procedures still with me. Joe McBride looked on as I burned 26 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │Fall 2013 www.aircommando.org the papers in the ashtray (yes, the Norton BOQs still had them in 1980). This proved to not be the best idea I ever had. The burning papers set off smoke alarms in the building and much swearing was heard up and down the hallway as we woke up the sleeping residents. Joe looked at me and said, “Well, Meller, I think it’s time we go to the O Club for breakfast.” The fire department emptied out our BOQ and the club had a large, angry crowd for breakfast. Joe and I never said a word—ever. Miracle on Ice: The 1980 Winter Olympics were in full swing and we had a day off between mission rehearsals while flying out of Norton. One night we ended up in a San Bernardino watering hole to watch the young US hockey team get crushed again by the Soviet pros in the semi-final match. We watched in amazement as the “college boys” made good coach Herb Brooks’ pre-game speech of “great moments are born from great opportunity,” and stunned the Soviets and the world—US 4, USSR 3. Two nights later, 24 Feb, as we were flying from Norton to Davis-Monthan AFB, AZ, the sector air traffic controller came on frequency and said, “US 4, Finland 2. We won the Gold.” Everyone on the frequency that night let out a cheer. At the time, none of us knew that Coach Brooks had delivered another prophetic speech. In the locker room, between the second and third periods of that final game, and the US losing 2-1 to the Finns, he emphatically told the team, “If you lose this game, you will take it with you to your graves!” How right he was, as we sadly found out two months later. Problems with the Sealy Configuration: The forward urinals on our Herks had been removed to prevent under-deck corrosion. The only places left to relieve oneself were the two urinals on either side of the ramp area. With soldiers sleeping on the mattresses during the long sorties, what we called the “Sealy Configuration” (also described in Brenci and Sanchez’ article), it was too easy to inadvertently step on someone in the course of heading back to the urinals. After more than one soldier had their face stepped on in the dark or worse should a buddy miss the urinal, the forward urinals were reinstalled. Final Trip West, 11 – 15 Apr: Although we didn’t know it at the time, this was to be the last rehearsal. Departing Pope AFB on the evening of 11 Apr, I flew with a mixed, augmented crew to Norton AFB, CA. We arrived at the usual o’ dark thirty and went into crew rest at a local Holiday Inn. With the sun coming up, most of us started our crew rest around the pool. We splashed around a bit and laughed at the very brave, MSgt Bubba Almanzar, a non-swimmer, going off the high dive. As the sun rose higher into the sky, like the creatures of the night that we were, we went to bed. We weren’t supposed to fly until the next night but Col Kyle called me in the late afternoon and told me to round up the troops, get back out to Norton, and call him on the secure phone from the command post. He did tell me that we were flying to Laguna AAF in the beautiful Yuma Proving Grounds—the YPG as we called it. It was also where the Marine Corps and Navy helicopter crews were sequestered. The unplanned “bag drag” was easier said than done. One SMSgt was unable to make it to the crew bus in time, so we decided to press on and get him later. While talking to Col Kyle on the “fuzzy” phone at the Norton Command Post (CP), I overheard the CP NCO tell the Duty Officer that he had an irate senior NCO at the Holiday Inn requesting a crew bus. The NCO also said that crew transport had already sent a bus to that location, but this guy had missed the bus. I respectfully intervened and asked the captain to please send another bus since that man was vital to the success of our mission. I offered some lame excuse why he missed the original bus. I guess the captain figured we were up to something special because he sent the bus. That future CMSgt and I laughed about that incident until the day he died. Back on the phone with Col Kyle again, he said the reason for the hurry-up call was the need to do a live Fulton recovery rehearsal the next night. The “package” for the Fulton recovery was supposed to be the combat controller, Maj John Carney. A finer man and warrior you will never find. (Editor’s Note: John “Coach” Carney was inducted into the Air Commando Hall of Fame in 1995 and the USSOCOM Hall of Honor in 2011) We didn’t know that John was making a trip into Iran to set up the landing lights at Desert One. We landed at Laguna AAF at about 2400 and were initially taken to the helicopter crews’ assembly room which, I think, was on the bottom floor of their quarters. The first thing that I saw was one big Marine pilot throwing an equally big Marine pilot over the pool table. It made me wonder how long had these boys been away from civilization? The biggest Marine, Barney Oldfield, said that the head Air Force guy, me, would have to arm-wrestle him if we wanted rooms in their “home.” I sure didn’t see that coming. Somehow I talked my way out of that one, but I think having a lone Air Force pilot, Capt Russ “Rotor” Rakip, among the group of helicopter pilots helped a bunch. We finally all got bedded down and I shared a room with Rotor. The Fulton rehearsal did not go well. Poor John Carney had to sweat in the dark under the Fulton pick-up balloon for a long time as we orbited and tried to get a balky recovery winch to stop Fall 2013 │ AIR COMMANDO JOURNAL │ 27 www.aircommando.org bleeding hydraulic fluid. We could not fix the winch and finally had to scrub the recovery. The next night we did the Night One landing rehearsal with my crew in a Talon leading Capt Russ Tharp, in an EC-130 refueler to a landing on Edwards AFB’s dry lake bed runway. The route was not too long, but Russ’ crew got a bit out of position while turning inbound to the landing area. After I landed, Tharp let us know he was having some trouble picking up the landing area. I pointed my aircraft down final with landing lights on and directed him to fly to the left of a very well lit shuttle gantry on final. He found the landing zone and landed just a few minutes later than scheduled. We all noted that the dust was not a problem as we refueled the helicopters. The Mission is a Go: S h o r t l y after returning to Hurlburt from the desert landing rehearsal, all the crews were gathered together and told that the