By Phil Rowe
My pilot, Bill, and I checked the flight schedule for the next day. It had been two days since our last mission and we were ready to go again. We hated those days in between flights, for lounging around the barracks area in that muggy heat of Saigon was a real drag.
"Well, they haven't forgotten us after all", I said, "We're on for a noon takeoff tomorrow."
Bill nodded in appreciative agreement, noting that we were to fly a pre-strike and post-strike reconnaissance mission in support of F-100's out of Phu Cat.
We'd been 'in country' just about six months and accumulated 80 combat missions in the RF-4C Phantom fighters, with six months to go before rotation back to the States.
We flew aerial reconnaissance missions, taking visual and special sensor pictures of many different targets throughout the region, from North Vietnam to Laos and even into Cambodia, as well as covering practically all of South Vietnam.
Some of our missions were in support of Army field commanders needing intelligence data on Viet Cong troop movements, supply points and expected trouble spots. Other flights were flown to get pictures for fighter-bomber targets, usually enemy troop or equipment concentrations, artillery installations or munitions depots worth hitting. Still other missions involved post-strike pictures to confirm strike aircraft claims of damage.
The most dramatic pictures we got were those of places where B-52's rained 500-pounders for miles along the South Vietnam- Cambodian borders northwest of Saigon. Strings of craters could be seen for miles. Newer craters were light in color, and not filled in with water like older ones.
Everything in the bombed areas was leveled, trees, undergrowth and all man-made structures. The awesome power of those massive strikes was clearly evident.
I recall one mission where we were scheduled to get immediate bomb damage assessment photos. We were in the area even before the rain of death was over. The earth shook and our airplane reverberated with the pounding shock waves from a few miles to the side of the stream of bombs.
Daytime missions were usually visual photography runs, with either our vertical (downward pointing) or oblique (side or forward pointing) cameras. Vertical shots usually called for the short focal length systems (4.5" lens), requiring us to get right down onto the deck.
We felt that Army commanders wanted 1:1 scale pictures. Some vertical photography did require the 12" lens for high altitude shots, but this was the exception.
Angled (oblique) shots were generally reserved for pictures where fly-over of the target area might be too hazardous. For those we used lenses up to 18" focal length so we could stand-off several miles.
The most challenging daytime missions were either route strip photography of roads, canals or mountain trails or area cover grids, perhaps ten by ten miles in area, flown as a succession of over-lapping lines back and forth. Both of these were usually at low altitude and often elicited enemy fire.
Nearly 60 percent of our missions were night reconnaissance, logical because most enemy activity took place at night under the cover of darkness. These night missions included both pinpoint vertical shots of targets requiring us to drop photoflash cartridges to illuminate the ground or strip and area coverage using the infrared sensors. Night missions invariably meant low altitude (400' or so ) and evoked the heaviest enemy fire.
We checked in with the Operations Desk around 9:30 a.m. for our assigned mission in support of the F-100's. After briefing by Intelligence on the target area and our role, we proceeded to draw up our charts and note the action points at various places along the route. The flight would be a long one, some three hours plus, and include meeting a KC-135 tanker before rendezvous with the F-100's near the Laotian border Northwest of Danang (South of the demilitarized zone or DMZ ).
We were tasked to join up with the F-100's, lead them into the general target area, go in ahead of them for pre-strike photos, loiter at high altitude while they made their strikes, and then go back in to record their results on film. It sounded pretty routine.
A Forward Air Controller (FAC) would be in there too, ready to mark the specific target with a smoke rocket for the F-100's to aim on, though we would not have that advantage. It would be imprudent to mark the specific target too soon.
We checked with Maintenance to be sure that the proper cameras and film would be loaded and to make sure that our scheduled bird was ready. So, after briefing the Operations Officer on our preparations and getting last minute weather information, we headed for the airplane.
It was a sizzling day and our camouflage-painted RF-4C was really hot in that scorching sun. It wasn't until we got the engines running that we got the relief of cooling air into the cockpit. Soon we were taxiing out and headed for the end of the runway. In a few more minutes we roared off, with afterburners blazing, into the blue sky above.
As we flew Northeast towards the tanker rendezvous point, about an hour and a half away, we cruised at 25,000' zig-zagging between rapidly building cumulus clouds over the central mountains of South Vietnam.
We found the tanker in a clear area, just where he was supposed to be, and quickly topped off our tanks. Then we turned Northwest to meet up with the F-100's.
We made radio contact with Angel-22, the lead aircraft, 10 minutes prior to reaching the target area. His flight of eight F-100's soon loomed up ahead of us in the clear blue, just above the thick smoke and haze which rose solidly to 18,000'.
Smoke and haze was common during that season, when it seemed that every rice farmer from Thailand to Laos burned the fields. Visibility down into that mess was restricted to barely two miles, and even worse if you looked towards the sun. The only decent view was straight down.
We coordinated our actions over the radio in the clear. Only the combination of code words and pilot jargon kept the enemy from knowing what we were up to, even to the point of confusing us at times too.
It was agreed that we would drop down for low altitude pre-strike photo's while the F-100's waited. When they could see us pop back above the smoke, that would be their signal to go down to strike the target. The target itself was at the end of a small steep valley covered with tall trees and heavy foliage. The FAC would be down there to mark the spot.
We couldn't see much at all as we began our descent, so it was up to me to find the target on radar and guide my pilot to the desired points for pictures. I found the radar image of the small stream winding through the valley, and set in the radar offset values to make us fly abeam of a bend in the river.
I reminded Bill that we had to make a sharp pull-up as soon as I turned the cameras off, to avoid the mountain peaks at the end of the valley. It was pretty quiet as we made that first pass and then zoomed up on top of the muck filling the valley.
The F-100's saw us pop up ahead of them, above the flat haze tops at 18,000' and began their peel-off descent into the target area. We heard the radio chatter with the FAC, telling them where to look for the smoke rocket.
In about twenty minutes the last of the F-100's had completed their work and started circling in the clear above the smoke. Next it was our turn to go back down to get the post-strike shots.
We weren't surprised to find that the enemy was firing at us as we screamed in to get our pictures, zooming across the target at 540 knots and down as low as 500'. After all, we had come by first to let them know we were in the area and then the F-100's aggravated them no end. So, by the time we went back down to see how mad they were, we found we clearly were not at all welcome.
They were 'madder than hornets' and threw everything they could at us.