THE EAGLE'S LAST FLIGHT
A Fighter Pilot's Story
by
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P r o l o g u e Republic of Vietnam 1969 Four F-100 Super Saber jet fighters, looking sleek and mean, circled the target like birds of prey impatient for the kill. Below them, the Mekong River lay steaming in the hot, humid air, surrounded by lush, green jungle, and red mud from the monsoon rains. Water-filled bomb craters gleamed dully in the late afternoon sun. Meanwhile, the forward air controller, or FAC, was scooting across the treetops in a small, propeller-driven aircraft, coordinating the final details of the strike. The fighters had been airborne for over an hour, and Skip’s flying suit was drenched in sweat. He was hot, uncomfortable, and impatient. Come on, come on, he thought, let’s get on with it. Rain showers are moving in, and we won’t be able to see the ground much longer. “Icon Flight, Banjo Two-One is rolling in for the marking pass,” the FAC said. Skip saw an orange flash as the marking rocket left the FAC’s aircraft, followed by a burst of white smoke on the ground that rose in a tall, straight column. “Icon Lead, that’s a good mark. Hit my smoke.” “Roger, Icon Lead’s in. Got the smoke in sight,” he responded. “Cleared to drop, Lead.” Skip rolled the aircraft onto its back, and then pulled the nose through the horizon before rolling upright and into a steep dive. Things were happening fast, as the airspeed increased, and the altimeter unwound rapidly. When the target appeared in the windscreen, he began tracking it with his gun sight. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see bright muzzle flashes from a nearby tree line; then red tracers began streaming across the nose of his aircraft. Don’t look at them, he thought. Keep your eyes on the target. Steady now. It’ll be over in a second. “Icon Lead, you’re taking ground fire,” the FAC said. “Over to the left.” “Roger. I see it. No sweat.” His voice sounded cool and confident. An instant later, two 750-pound bombs were sent hurtling toward the ground, as he pulled out, rolling sharply to the left, and then back to the right, trying to avoid the ground fire. In the rearview mirror, he could see the two bombs explode in a boiling column of mud and debris. “Good bombs, Icon Lead. Put yours in the same place, Icon Two.” Suddenly, Skip’s aircraft began to vibrate and shake, and a series of warning lights came on in the cockpit, one after another. “Lead, you’re trailing smoke,” Icon Two called out. “Not to worry. I’ve…uh…got a problem.” The aircraft was becoming harder to control as the vibrations increased. Now the flashing, red fire-warning light was on. Okay. Be cool. You gotta punch out. No big deal. Get more altitude…that’s the first thing. “Lead, you’re on fire. The whole ass-end of the aircraft is on fire. Bail out!” Icon Two’s voice was tense and demanding. “Roger that. I have to climb first and head toward the water.” The cockpit was incredibly hot and filled with smoke. He could hardly keep the wings level. It’s time to go, pal. You’ve done this before. Raise the ejection seat handles, and the canopy goes. Squeeze the trigger, and you go. It’s a piece of cake. Holding the control stick steady with one hand, he reached down and raised the ejection seat handle, bracing for the explosion and rush of air as the canopy left the aircraft. Nothing happened. No problem. Eject through the canopy. It’s been done. Carefully, he squeezed the exposed trigger in the handle, once again bracing himself for the shock. Again, nothing happened. Starting to panic, he squeezed it again…and again…and again. “Lead, I repeat. You are on fire. Get out of the fucking bird, now!” Icon Two shouted. “Roger. I…uh…can’t. The ejection seat…it won’t…oh shit!” The control stick went slack. The flight controls were gone. Slowly, the aircraft rolled inverted like a wounded beast. Suspended upside down, looking at the jungle below, he knew it was over. “Bail out! Bail out!” Icon Two shouted one last time. Seconds later, the twilight sky was lit by a bright, orange explosion that disintegrated into flaming shards of silver aluminum drifting to the ground. “Too late…” Icon Two said, in a flat voice, filled with resignation.
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About the Book
"The Eagle's Last Flight" is not a typical Cold War book, which is why it is eminently suited for today's readers. It is an uncomplicated book---good books usually are---that describes military life during the Cold War in an everyday, gut level fashion that readers can easily relate to. The story line is also uncomplicated. Modest in size (less than 400 pages), it chronicles the life of Skip O'Neill, an ordinary man destined to live an extraordinary life during the period 1954 to 1981. Skip was an Air Force fighter pilot; although not the kind possessed with unbelievable bravery, infallible judgment, and impossible skills so typical of fictional fighter pilots. His was a real life, with real troubles, real victories, and real conflicts. Yet, like the character in Forrest Gump, he managed to be on the stage each time the American military was challenged during the Cold War.
Although The Eagle's Last Flight has the look and feel of an autobiography, it is in fact, a work of fiction. But, being a fictional character is Skip O'Neill a credible witness to such a dramatic period of our history? To quote Mark Berent, author of the Rolling Thunder series of books about the Vietnam War,"Skip O'Neill flew with the Lafayette Escadrille, he flew fighters in the European Theater of Operations, and the Pacific in WWII and, he flew fighters in all the conflicts since Vietnam as well. For Skip O'Neill's story is the story of all fighter pilot warriors. Anyone who flew in any war can relate to many episodes in this book and certainly the characters."
Or as CNN military analyst and author, Major General Don Shepherd, USAF (Ret.) put it, “This is one of the best books about flying fighters, life in the military, war and the humans who do it, all with the best of characters shrouded in history, mixed with realism, sex, joy, tragedy, sadness, mystery. I could feel the Gs, taste the martinis and smell the perfume. I felt like I knew the characters, or someone just like them, and saw every fighter pilot in 'Skip' and every fighter pilot's wife in 'Christy'."
Feel the Gs, taste the martinis and smell the perfume---valuable insights into one of the more tumultuous periods in our history by someone who has "been there, done that---tantalizing clues about what may lie ahead if the Cold war returns---all in one book. What more can you ask for?
About the Author
Ron Standerfer was born and raised in Belleville, Illinois, a town across the Mississippi river from St. Louis, Missouri. While attending the University of Illinois he took his first airplane ride in a World War II-Vintage B-25 bomber assigned to the local ROTC detachment. It was a defining moment in his life. Weeks later, he left college to enlist in the Air Force’s aviation cadet program. He graduated from flight training at the age of twenty and was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant. Another defining moment occurred early in his career. In August 1957, he participated in an atomic test at Yucca Flat, Nevada. Standing on an observation platform eight miles from ground zero, he watched the detonation of an atomic bomb code named Smoky. The test yielded an unexpected 44 kilotons---more than twice the size of the bomb dropped on Nagasaki. He never forgot Smoky, and the memory of that experience weighed heavily on his mind when he wrote The Eagle's Last Flight. Ron’s twenty seven-year Air Force career spanned the Cold War years between 1954 and 1981. During that time, he flew a variety of high performance fighters including the F-100, F-102, F-105, F-4 and A-7. He flew 237 combat missions during the Vietnam conflict and was awarded two Silver Stars, thirteen Air Medals and the Purple Heart. The latter was received after he was shot down over Tchepone, Laos in 1969. He retired from the Air Force as a full Colonel after tours in the Pentagon and Tactical Air Command headquarters in Virginia. Ron is a prolific writer and journalist. He appeared regularly on WOR TV in New York City during the first days of the Persian Gulf War, providing real time analysis of the air war as it progressed. His book reviews and syndicated news articles appear regularly in the online and print news media, as well as in military journals. His blog, www.theeagleslastflight.blogspot.com, contains regular musings on life in Warsaw, Poland as well as world and military affairs in general. These days Ron and his wife Marzenna, the daughter of a distinguished theatrical family in Poland, spend their time in their homes in Gulf Stream, Florida and Warsaw.