There I was

Korea 1983, I stand in front of a long line of Hardened Aircraft Shelters (HASs) on the flightline at Kunsan Air Base, Republic Of South Korea. I’m waiting for my turn to Marshall my F-4E out of it’s protective shelter. She’s loaded with two AIM-7 Sparrow air-to-air missiles, two AIM-9P Sidewinder missiles, one AQL-119 ECM pod, and two one megaton tactical battlefield nuclear weapons.

Down the line, on either side of me, are 11 other Phantoms, each with the same load-out, all waiting for their clearance to taxi. This brings the total of nuclear weapons on that ramp to 24. There are also 12 Phantoms with only air-to-air loads and they will be used to protect and clear the way for their nuclear-loaded commrades. The immense sound of the 24 running F-4s fills the cold air, along with the bittersweet smell of JP-4 exhaust. I’m bone tired because I haven’t slept in over 20 hours. This is because we are not allowed to leave our aircraft once loaded with the tactical nukes.

I look to my left and see the first Phantom taxing from it’s hiding place in the HAS and out into the bright sunlight of this clear crisp day on the shore of the Yellow Sea.

We have been at “war” with North Korea for 30 days now and it has not been going well. Yesterday the base was attacked by MiGs from up north and 500-pound bombs had taken the lives of 20 people, and left another 50 badly injured. Leadership thinks we can only holdout another 24 hours at this rate; and then the South will fall. We are not going to let that happen!

Beginning of a book by Tom Clancy? Nope, a little thing we used to call Team Spirit. It was the largest multi-service war game exercise in the free world throughout the 1980s and early 90s. Forces from the Army, Navy, Air Force and Marines would converge on South Korea to play this large scale war-game for a full month every year. We would live in “tent cities” and launch sorties day and night. It was as if we were in a real war.

We deployed our Phantoms (28 of them) from Clark Air Base, Republic Of the Philippines, 35 days ago. From the first air raid siren, which marked the beginning of the war, until this last launch today, we have been flying sorties 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It has taken its toll on us, and left us all exhausted. There have been daily attacks from "Red Forces," both on the ground and from the air, work days which lasted up to 20 hours, and the “bar hopping” and drinking which always comes with a TDY like this. These ingredients have combined to drain the life from all of us, we are ready to put an end to it.

Our part of the “war” has been to supply both air-to-air and air-to-ground sorties for the "Blue Force" with our F-4Es. We had broken the flight line into two parts and split the maintaince personnel 50/50 into what we called broke row and flow row. Broke row was for any aircraft returning from a mission with a code 3 write-up (code 3 means non-flyable,) and flow row was for all other aircraft. If the aircraft returned to flow-row it was sent through a Integrated Combat Turn (ICT.) This means the aircraft was inspected, refueled, and rearmed all at once, in her parking spot, and placed on ready status. Of course if it went to broke-row it needed heavy maintaince, and that’s where it got it. After repairs were made the aircraft was then placed on ready status with the others. We have flown hundreds of missions, dropped tons of munitions, and engaged in air-to-air combat with the “north” almost every day.

As I stand there waiting my turn I think back over the past month and a few memorable moments run through my mind. One day we launched everything flyable, in under 30 minutes, to support Marines pined-down by heavy enemy fire up north. About halfway through the launch, our end of the runway (EOR) crew was “killed” by an infiltrator and I was pulled away from my aircraft to perform EOR. We were driving neck and neck with the first Phantom in line all the way down the taxiway. I will never forget one of the WSOs smiling and waving as we passed his aircraft in our race to EOR!

Once we got to EOR and had them all looked over, and ready to fly, we sat on the back of the pick-up and watched them take-off. It’s one hell of a sight, and feeling, to watch a ramp full of F-4s loaded with TERs full of training Mk-82s taxi to the runway and light burners one after another!

Another day a very tired crew chief forgot to open the HAS blast doors before allowing his aircraft to start which resulted in a cockpit firelight from the engine heat and fumes, and the aircrew ground egressed. It took the egress troops a few hours to replace all the carts and squibs fired when the crew pulled the ground egress handles on their Marten Baker seats to get out of the aircraft. I dare say this crew chief never forgot the blast doors again!

After a night on the town, which is about five miles from base, the bus we were riding in stopped at the main gate. A very cold young man was pulled off the back of the bus (read: hanging on the outside) where he had ridden all the way from town.

You see, the only way to get back from town is by bus, and if you miss the last bus you don’t get back until the busses start running early the next morning. This can cause problems if you work day shift and can’t make it to work on time.

Our guess is he was just coming to the bus stop as we were pulling away, and we were the last bus for the night, he didn’t want to miss it so he jumped onto the back and held-on for dear life. I also believe his blood alcohol level helped him survive the 30 degree March weather, and 60 mile-an-hour ride back to base!

The gate guard was very cool about it and instead of locking him up for public intoxication he brought him around and put him on the bus for the rest of the ride to tent city.

I’m sure you know each one of the above incidents could be a story in itself but everything we have done for the last month is history and the war comes down to this mass launch.

So here I am, the last day of the war and the beginning of the “hardball” portion of Team Spirit. Hardball was a term given to the scenario in which the "North" (red team) was winning the "war" and the only way to save the "south" was with the use of tactical nuclear weapons. We would launch everything flyable in what we called an elephant walk.

In reality the aircraft would take-off with simulated nukes, what we called shapes because you never used the term nuke, and have a “turkey shoot” over the test range. A turkey shoot is where pilots bet on who’s the best at putting iron on target, and try to prove it on this sortie. This would decide Top Gun for this Team Spirit.

My turn comes and the pilot give me the run-up engines signal, I squat and look behind the aircraft to ensure it’s clear, over my shoulder to make sure the last jet has passed and the taxi way is also clear, stand-up and give him the apply power signal.

He throttles up and lurches forward with a roar. As he approaches the intersection with the taxiway, I marshal him left and onto the centerline. As soon as he’s aligned and moving in a straight line I come to attention and snap a salute, which he returns, and reach out and touch the wingtip as it passes in front of me. This a long held tradition for good luck.

The Phantoms make their way to EOR and thunder into the air one by one. We listen on our UHF radio in the maintaince truck and hear the battle going on in the skys of Korea. Red forces (mostly US and ROK F-5s and Navy F-4s) intercept our jets on their way to their targets.

This was long before my sim days and a lot of what was being said was beyond me, but a few of the terms were understood all too well. The call, "Get him off me!" or, "Two's hit!!" needs no special knowledge. We could see, in our minds' eye, the battle going on.

It only lasted for a few minutes when we start hearing calls like, "Hardball 1 is over target..." and "Two is in hot!" and we know the nukes are being dropped on their targets. If this would have been real, a lot of people would have died at that very moment. It truly was a very sobering experance. You have to remember this is the apex of the cold war, and nuclear weapons were a very intergal part of a lot of battle plans. I'm sure the "other side" had their Hardball plans as well.

Eleven of the twelve nuclear armed aircraft made it to tagret, and of the other twelve escort aircraft seven were "lost;" they did clear the way for the strike, however, and that was their job.

The strike had the desired effect, and the North pulls back across the DMZ and peace talks begain. The war is over!

We recover all the aircraft with tired smiles on our faces because we know the war is over for us, and we will be returning home soon. The next day we fix all the broke jets, reconfigure them, and clean the areas we have been working in for the past 30 days. Such is the preparation for the redeployment home.

After our last night of partying we all hit the flightline early the next morning to launch the jets out for their trip home. We will follow in C-141s in about 4 hours after all the jets have reached the “point of no return” on the way home.

Again I stand in front of the HAS on another cold Korean morning, waiting my turn to launch my jet, but this time we know it’s to send them home. The process was repeated like the day prior, but with one added step. After the last jet has taxied and headed to EOR we all load into vehicles and drive out to the end of the parking ramp. From here, about 30-50 yards from the runway, we can watch the jets take-off on their trip home.

As we look down the runway, we can barely make out the first jet pulling out from EOR and onto the active ranway. This one is followed by five more. They will now take-off in pairs as close together as possible, so they can form-up on the tanker.

We heard the distant rumble of the first two as they kicked over into burner and thundered down the runway towards us. At the distance we are from the runway the sound of two Phantoms taking-off in formation is felt in the pit of your stomach as they pass in front of you! We watch, and cheer, as each pair passes and climbs out of sight in the morning mist. Two, four, six, I stop counting after fifteen or so and just watch the show knowingly. That is, knowing that I will be on a plane home soon.

Here comes the next pair, wait a minute, the burner on the jet closest to us doesn’t look right for some reason… There are sparks flying from the number one exhaust and the flame is not smooth like a normal afterburner, but rippled! As we watch, the outside jet makes a hard slicing turn up and way from his wingman still in full burner, we can feel the heat from the burners as his tail points our way!

The other jet (with the sparks) continues to climb and raises his gear. I watch as the jet looks to be still in burner from our vantage point behind him, but the left-hand flame looks wrong, I know something is not right. I think the aircraft is on fire and it is not afterburner flames I see!

Everyone is talking and making comments like, get out, why aren’t they punching out its on fire! I can’t take my eyes off the aircraft as it starts to disappear in the mist, when all of a sudden it rolls over on it back, and dives for the ocean. I can just make out the impact of the aircraft with the sea. I stand there, stunned, with my mouth hanging open! They didn’t get out; did anyone see them punch out?

No one knows quite what to do and we just stand there looking at the ocean where the Phantom went in. I don’t know how long we stood there, but it couldn’t have been more than a minute or two. Now the production superintendent comes driving up in his truck and screams at me to get in. I ask why and he says that it is because it was my jet, Triple Nickel (69-0555) that had just crashed!

That got me moving and I jumped into the truck and off we went. He took me by my parking spot where we picked up the aircraft's forms and headed for base operations. To make a long story short the two pilots did get out, we just couldn’t see when they punched because of the fog. Both were treated for minor cuts and bruises and released within a couple of hours.

Because I was one of the crew chiefs on the jet, helped with the Preflight, and launched the jet out, I was “invited” to take a pee test to check for drugs and make sure I was not drunk on duty and go through a bunch of accident boards in the next few months.

I made the flight home and even saw, and spoke with, the two pilots on the C-141, which made me feel a lot better!

After all was said and done the accident board determined a turbine wheel had let go in number #1 engine when he went into afterburner, spraying shrapnel through the engine case, cutting several afterburner fuel lines, and igniting outside the exhaust casing. He could not bring the engine out of burner because he had not built-up enough airspeed for the weight of the aircraft.

I also found out, from talking to the front seater, why they didn’t punch when they found out they were on fire. Kunsan’s runway goes right into the Yellow Sea (on one end,) and because it was early morning the whole bay was full of fishing boats. They made a fraction of a second decision to ride the aircraft over the boats instead of punching and allowing a fully loaded ( 1X 600 gallon fuel, 2X 370 gallon tanks and full internals) Phantom to go crashing into a bay full of boats.

I will always remember, when talking to the crew on the ride home, the front seater saying he told the rear seater to punch-out, but the WSO came back and said, "No way man, I’m right behind you!" He also stated they didn’t wait one second longer than needed before ejection… That was said with a chuckle. In fact the two pilots received certificates of appreciation from the Korean Government for riding a burning F-4E over the fishing boats, placing their lives in danger for people they didn’t even know.

Team Spirit 1983 didn’t end for me until a few months later when the accident board cleared maintaince (and me) of any wrong doing and placed the accident on mechanical failure.

Just remember that this is just one story, from one day, of what is now known as... the Cold War.

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