Short sea story:
One of my first training command CO’s had last flown the RF-8P before taking command of the training squadron. The RF-8P was a photo-reconnaissance version of the venerable Crusader jet – last of the gunfighters. The F-8 cohort were hard men, and they threw themselves into the art and science of air combat knowing their lives depended upon it. They played hard ball in the air, even in training: Mishap rates for the single engine gunfighter were atrocious compared to the newer F-4 Phantoms just coming on line during the Vietnam war.
The Navy had placed a huge investment in advanced combat systems in the F-4 Phantom to increasingly take the aircrew out of the loop, meaning that dangerous air combat training could reduced or eliminated – smart missiles would make up for dumb pilots. The Navy tried to tie the hands of the Crusader crews during training as well, but that proved a much harder policy to enforce in the single seat fighter community. Their Spartan devotion to the art of air combat paid off: The F-8 had the highest kill ratio of any US aircraft in Vietnam.
The Navy Fighter Weapons School – TOPGUN – was instituted as much as anything else because we’d come to rely on the technology of the box more than the capability of the man flying it. It was a successful expenditure of resources: Navy kill ratios after the Weapons School’s debut went from 2.3:1 to 13:1.
There were two F-14 squadrons in my CO’s air wing, which kept the RF-8 jocks busy since the only thing that Tomcat crews liked better than pictures of themselves was having somebody else around to take the picture, and hopefully coo approvingly.
The plan was for my CO to complete his own RF-8 mission and then rendezvous overhead the carrier prior to recovery to use his on board cameras to catch the perfect, four ship diamond – a hero shot for proud display on the F-14 squadron’s ready room bulkhead. He found the four ship as they were returning to mother, dialed up their squadron common frequency in his aux radio during their descent and began giving them helpful hints on how to fly a better looking formation, while noting dispassionately that they’d leveled off at angels three overhead the ship, vice the 2,000 feet they’d told him to expect.
Getting formation advice from a Crusader guy was probably hard on the Tomcat crews’ egos, because – you guessed it – for fighter guys it’s better to die than look bad. It wasn’t always easy to look good in a Tomcat though. The jet carried a lot of gas, had a big radar and could go like a striped-ass baboon in full grunt, but there was just so much of it and the whole thing could be damned awkward to handle, especially in slow speed flight. It wasn’t for nothing that the jet earned the nickname “Turkey” behind the ship. Lots of moving parts.
But the RF-8 jocks were proud of their work as well, and so your man wanted to take a great picture for future generations of F-14 pilots and NFOs to point at with pride. Nor did it hurt tweaking them a bit, I imagine. To their growing frustration, my CO continued to provide helpful hints to get them into the proper “parade” formation:
Him: Slot, forward a bit – you’re sucked.
Slot: How’s this?
Him: A little more. Right wing, you’re loose, close it in. In fact, you guys are all kind of loose – let’s see some formation flying.
Flight lead: (Tremulously) How’s this?
Him: Closer.
Flight lead: (Harshly) And now?
Him: Closer still, you’re showing me nothing here.
Flight lead: TAKE THE FRACKING PICTURE FER DOG’S SAKE!!!
My CO took the picture, cleared the Tomcats back to a loose cruise formation and then – in the best traditions of the naval service – cut them out of the pattern for a sh!t hot break. Once on deck he took his photo roll straight to the ship’s intel center to be developed, only to shake his head sadly at the wretchedly loose formation. Were there no standards in this new fighter community?
The F-14 crews wandered in shortly afterwards, clearly shaken from the experience and wringing the sweat out of their flight suits. My CO showed the prints to the flight lead, asking, “Really, is this the best you guys can do out there? It looks like a cruise formation instead of parade. Very sloppy. There used to be pride in fighters.”
The Tomcat lead took one look at the picture and said to my CO, rage simmering in his voice: “That’s not us, you moron! You took a picture of our sister squadron at angels 3! We were at angels 2, like we briefed, flying two feet away from each other in 50,000 pound airplanes squeezing the black juice out of the stick!”
The light came on: The CO had been sitting atop the wrong formation of Tomcats issuing “get closer” instructions to another four ship across the rendezvous circle that he didn’t even have visual contact with. He extricated himself with a quick, “My bad,” and bustled out the hatch.
It was Crusaders. Stuff happened.
When I was at Miramar with RVAW-110 Topgun was sharing the hangar with VFP-63, who were still flying the RF-8′s. I can still remember the sound of them lighting off the afterburners – it sounded like the tail of the plane blew off… Until recently there were two civilian owned F-8′s at the Deer Valley airport in Phoenix. IIRC they were retired French birds. Did you ever see the file of the pilot ejecting from an F-8 in a spin? It seemed like it took him days to get his hand on the face curtain and two or three yanks before the seat fired. With the pilot so far up in the nose it amazed me he managed to get out at ll with the g’s.
Look on the bright side-they all got an excuse to fly the photoex again!
I was on USS America when VFP-63 did a CQ det. Being up in the tower watching them come aboard, leaking hydraulic fluid, and that nose wheel spinning was most interesting.
On IKE, back in the day, when the French were still flying ‘saders I well recall when we (IKE/CVW-7) hosted a pair for a couple of days of DACT whilst on our Med deployment. Said crew were to be hosted by the fighter RR’s (natch) and after trapping aboard, the lead announced his presence by kicking open the door to the Ready Room for VF-143 and announcing to all present that he was ready to kick any of their a$$es 1 v1 or 1 v many, beginning with the next cycle. For this hummermole who was briefing with his fighter section for the next go it was – fun to to watch. Alas, because it required rigging the one cat that could handle a bridle shot, the signatory DACT event didn’t happen until 2 cycles later…
-SJS
Great story, extremely well told!
Man, that’s a piece you oughta sell to Flying magazine or AOPA or the like. Worth a grand at least!
I sure got my money’s worth right at “that’s not us, your moron!” remembering the angels 3 teaser.
Love it.
THIS IS WHY I READ THIS BLOG!!! Nuff said
Now that’s freaking funny! Hear! Hear!
Answer this one…did F-8 pilots raise the wing or lower the fuselauge?
That was just hilarious as hell.
“That’s not us, you moron!” Just too funny.
Thanks Lex!!!
And this is why I keep stopping in. Thanks Lex.
There we were – fat, dumb and happy – at angels six in the Sara Maru’s marshall stack, eagerly awaiting the requisite sliders. I was in the right seat of our trusty light attack Whisper Stoof, having just returned from creating hate and discontent onboard an OPFOR Turkish destroyer (another tale) during a major exercise in the summer of 1980. NATIONAL WEEK, I think.
I was looking outside, enjoying the view of a Mediterranean summer, when I spotted an A-7 flying an intercept course on us. Now, even though we were participating in a major, multi-national exercise, we still had Indian Country rules in effect. For those non-initiates into the guild of carrier aviators, Indian Country was a section of sky alotted to bending the birds around in a bit of ACM/DCM. In other words, it was a place where dogfighting was allowed.
The last I checked, the marshall stack was not a part of Indian Country. My pilot’s reaction was to question (once again) the navigation skills of the SLUF drivers – as in: “F%#$ing lost again?” At which point he pulled into the Corsair to avoid a collision – and we watched an F-8 go bye, heading east. Missing the canopy and cockpit occupant.
We had forgotten that the French were participants in the exercise, with either the FOCHE or the CLEMENCEAU operating to the west, closer to Sicily.
Of course we notified Screwtop (our resident Hummer) that we had an errant Crusader heading east. They vectored one of our F-4s for the intercept, but before they could get permission to Winder it, the F-8 rolled and pulled for the deck, avoiding the obvious intended indignity. Didn’t even try to surrender, probably because we weren’t Germans.
They did call the French and let them know that although we had found one of their jets, they might want to start looking for the pilot.
Never did hear whether they did or not.
What are the chances of a new fighter plane getting the name “Crusader” anytime soon in this bend over backwards to avoid offending those who want to behead us day and age?
Now that’s funny.
Great tale, fully belly laugher. Enjoyed tossing F-8′s off the bow cats of Ranger in my shooter days for VFP-63 CQ. Lovely afterburner plume at sunset.
Great story Capt. After all these years there are still more Sea Stories. I have a feeling that’s a bottomless well.
I have a good friend who flew Crusaders off the Midway. When “the Cat” and I were in San Diego it was neat to see the big ‘ol F8 sitting up there on the bow of the museum ship.
Pardon me for asking the obvious, but doesn’t the F-14 carry, ummm… two people? One of whom might have been tasked with operating a radar set and looking around for a Crusader about to take their picture?
Just asking.
Good story Lex. Good story Yak.
I cruised with VFP-63 several times, photo recon birds, never VF, althought one of my CV-67 COs was an F-8 MigKiller (on the link). A Mig 21 to boot. Real gentleman, too. If it weren’t for him looking beyond any zero defect I wouldn’t be telling many sea stories!
One time in the Med while looking for clear air to drop blue bombs I first saw a camo’ed up B-52 flying along down low. Decided to rendevous and take a look when all of a sudden I saw a section of F-8s above and another single coming at the Buff from the other side. Next, there was a bunch of shrill yelling on guard in French and I realized I was in the Frenchman’s overhead stack, WTF? That dam Buff…
b2
I’m with Max. With eight graduates of the P’cola Beach Club all spruced up and looking good for the local papperazzi you would’a thought that at least one of them might have noticed the absence of the dude with the camera.
Walrus, the way I heard it tell was that the F-8 raised the wing on deck, but lowered the fuselage in flight. All had to do with the reference plane.
And as for eight F-14 jox not getting a tally on a Crusader at six, let’s just color me not entirely surprised.
“My bad…”
Yup, large brass balls.
I would like to hear a good story (doesn’t have to be strictly true) about what happened later in relation to this incident.
I’m pretty familiar with Navy birds. What’s an RF-8P? Now, an RF-8G, sure, I know those. Even saw one in that movie, “The Final Countdown”.
“And as for eight F-14 jox not getting a tally on a Crusader at six, let’s just color me not entirely surprised.”
Remember, these are the same TOPGUN brain surgeons who routinely asked for “radar vectors to the overhead” when coming off the TACTS range and searching for NAS Oceana on a CAVU day.
Or, asked for “Tanker Posit” when the KA-6D was hanging out mid-cycle at Angels 15. Heaven forbid they actually paid attention to the brief, turn on their radar, or look out the window…
The more I ponder this, the more I suspect a CO in a Gunfighter playing the most subtle, magnificant joke on F-14 jocks to have ever been created.
What has he got? Short-range cannon and his eyeballs. What do they have? Two people, a pretty decent radar set, and a decided flair for self-aggrandizement.
Mission? Photo op.
Yeah, I can see it. “Sorry, my bad” even leaves the victims thinking it wasn’t their fault. The butt of a good practical joke only finds out they were part of it afterwords. If at all.
Whoever that CO was, he played them like a master. And if it was an honest mistake, the same result applies.
I’ll buy that CO the first round if we ever meet.
– Max
Now that I have thunk upon it more, I think Max has the right of it. Even if done unconsciously, it was total win. (and therefore even more artistic; Zen, or something)