Airman

“Crew ready sarge!” shouted Sgt Jim Smith as he wiped the sweat from his brow. His voice was aimed at a blue Air Force ‘65 Ford pickup truck cruising down a row of 13th Tactical Fighter Squadron (TFS) F-105 fighter jets. Scores of F-105s were parked side by side along the Korat Air Base taxiway under a hot tropical afternoon sun with their canopies open and yellow pilot boarding ladders in place ready for the day’s mission. Sgt Smith, a twenty year old US Air Force Buck Sergeant from Fort Walton Beach, Florida was the crew chief of a single-seat single-engine F-105D loaded with six 500-pound semi-armor piercing bombs on the centerline pylon and two large wing-mounted 450-gallon external fuel tanks. For a fighter the F-105 Thunderchief, known as the “Thud,” was enormous. The Republic Aviation made jet was almost twenty feet tall with a fuselage longer than a World War II B-17 bomber. On the other hand, the short swept back wings gave the big fighter a sleek appearance, which was appropriate since the F-105 could fly at twice the speed of sound. Smith had just finished installing an access panel he had removed twenty minutes earlier so a hydraulic specialist from the 388th Field Maintenance Squadron (FMS) could inspect the jet for a possible hydraulic leak. “Residual fluid,” Smith said as he approached the truck with the aircraft forms, “No leak–she’s good to go.” From the driver’s side of the pickup the 13th TFS line chief barked in reply, “Good ‘cause I’ve got crews steppin’ real soon!” MSgt Fred Tollis, the 13th TFS production supervisor, signed off the “Red X” discrepancy and the exceptional release in the aircraft forms and said, “Flying schedule’s got you launchin’ Colonel Gimmi today.” “I’ve launched him once before–looks like that bald movie actor in a flight suit. What’s his name?” “You mean Yul Brynner–and you’re right he does–it’s that bald head–about the same height and age too. I’ll say this though–that Colonel’s one lucky man.” “Why’s that sarge?” “Came back on his first mission all full of holes–and that was supposed to be a milk run–damn! With ninety-nine [missions] to go I didn’t think he was gonna’ make it to a hundred. He’s still here though. You know, I don’t know why some of these guys do it. Colonel Gimmi’s got to be retirement eligible–nice guy too. Probably has a wife and kids back in the states. Damn crazy I guess, but he’s got balls. All of these guys do.” Tollis and Smith were talking about Lt Col Richard “Dick” Gimmi–a forty-six year old career pilot flying F-105s with the 13 TFS. Gimmi had over twenty years in the service and could have retired but instead had finagled his way from a desk job at Air University in Alabama to a combat assignment in Thailand flying the F-105 Thunderchief on missions over North Vietnam. Tollis then told Smith what he knew about the pending mission, “Weapons toads down in the 469th busted ass on this one–centerline only and 3,000 pounders. Poor bastards got the frag just a few hours ago.” Tollis was referring to the 469th TFS located on the other end of the parking apron and their F-105Ds being readied on short notice to be the first squadron in a three squadron strike force from the 388th Tactical Fighter Wing (TFW). The 469th TFS commander, Lt Col Harry Schurr, would be leading the entire 388th TFW strike force that day. Tankers and fighters from several bases in Thailand were preparing to strike the primary transportation artery spanning the Red River in North Vietnam.