I’d like to share the story of my Dad’s military service with the world somehow. I’m sure that most people’s fathers shared plenty a tall tale with their children, but my father’s tales are the stuff of novels and movies. (Sure, I freely admit my bias :))
He served in the US Air Force during the Vietnam War as a KC-135 pilot, but his knack for finding himself in bad situations began in flight training.
The US Air Forces uses the T-38 for its advanced flight training. Picture a pen with a tail and two short stubby wings and you’ve captured the aerodynamic wonder that is this aircraft. The wonder being that the aircraft actually generates enough lift to actually fly. On one of my father’s early solo flights, one of his engines exploded. This would have been of only minor concern, the T-38 has two engines, but the explosion also ruptured the aircraft’s hydraulic lines so severely that it wasn’t possible to lower the landing gear of the aircraft. The flight tower suggested he eject, but my father wasn’t excited about the idea of igniting a rocket under his butt. Additionally there is some mystical force that controls pilots, convincing them that as long as there is any aircraft left to fly to stay with it. My father decides to belly land the aircraft.
Now another less than enviable trait of the T-38 is its high landing speed of 130 knots. So with all the grace of a wheeless dragster, the aircraft shed most of its fuselage in a shower of sparks before coming to a rest on the runway. My father was fine. The $756,000 dollar aircraft was not so good.
Skip forward in time to graduation. My father and his class are now full fledged pilots and with an air of celebration put on an air show for their wives and families.
Having finished his flight, my father is down on the ground, watching a group of his classmates put their aircraft through maneuvers. Suddenly, there is a puff of smoke as one of the T-38’s loses an engine. The pilot, remembering my father’s dilemma a few weeks earlier, quickly puts his gear down before his aircraft loses all of its hydraulic fluid.
Meanwhile my father finds himself next to the spouse of the very pilot who is in trouble. He assures her that he had the same problem a few weeks ago and that he came through it with no problems. He leaves out that his aircraft was destroyed in the incident.
But the pilot with the problem is feeling pretty good about the situation. He has his gear down and locked, a second engine that is running fine, and the entire incident occurred right over an airfield. He declares an emergency, gets clearance, and sets her down.
We can only speculate at his facial expression when he realized that the loss of his hydraulics also meant the loss of his wheel brakes. In any case, my father and the rest of the crowd only got a brief glimpse of the aircraft as it speed past them at 130 knots (remember that high landing speed?), down the runway, off the runway, and through the base fence. Picture now a crowd of several hundred people trying to chase down an airplane as it proceedes to cross a highway and then enter a corn field.
Following the trail of crumpled corn, the crowd was able to locate the aircraft with its quite shaken but otherwise intact pilot.
After my father began his service in the skies over Vietnam, his life only got more insane.
-An anti-aircraft shell passed between him and his co-pilot.
-An F-4 once came up for fuel with the message “Quick! Just give me a few hundred pounds, I got a Mig on my tail!”
-Another F-4 hooked up before realizing that a Sidewinder missile attached to his aircraft had armed itself and hung up on his racks.
-VC attacked my father’s airbase
-A tiger attacked my father’s airbase. The tiger was more successful.
-My father was nominated for a medal and threatened with court martial for the same mission.
The list goes on for quite a bit. I’m certain that all of this would make a great book or an even better movie. The topic of tankers has never really been covered very much and it presents quite a few amazing visuals. This story has drama, explosions, firefights, and comedy in the face of frightening situations
My problem is I hardly know where to begin. Should I make a script? Should I write it down as a novel? I’d like to have a real chance of getting this out to the public somehow.
There is a ton of research that I would like to do. I know that a certain amount of fiction is inevitable in retelling such stories, if nothing else than to fill in the gaps of dialogue that no one can remember. But I would really like to keep the story as true as possible.
Well anyway. That’s my dilemma. Sorry for rambling on so much, but the thought of getting my father’s story all down within his lifetime has consumed my thoughts as of late. I often feel that I have contributed little to the world that will be remembered when I am passed. I’d feel better if I could keep this small bit of history from disappearing.