Cuban Missle Crisis - Ron Knott

I received this as a part of an e-mail today and thought I'd pass it
along for what it's worth. Makes an interesting read.

There are a couple of others that I haven't managed to finish yet and
I'll pass them along also--- Greasy




Cuban Missile Crisis

The movie "Thirteen Days" explains just how threatened the United
States was with nuclear war during the fall of 1962. Most Americans
know very little about this impending danger that could have destroyed
a major portion of our population. The movie explains the political
predicament very well but only skims over the military function that
I, and many others endured not only for "Thirteen Days" but for more
than thirteen months. As indicated in the movie the powers that be in
Washington almost lost control of the situation several times during
the "Thirteen Days" Thank God a peaceful agreement was achieved.

Retired Rear Admiral Paul Gillcrist represented the Navy and the
pilots very well as the military adviser for the "Thirteen Days." He
was my boss in Fighter Squadron 62. We flew many missions together in
and around Cuba during those uncertain days. There were also several
aircraft lost and pilots killed during this operation that was not
contributed to hostile activity. The movie only noted the loss of one
aircraft and one pilot who was brought down by a Surface to Air
Missile (SAM).

Our Air Group was placed on alert during the first week of October
1962. We were briefed about the missile build up and to be ready to
strike our assigned targets in Cuba at a moments notice. The entire
Air Group (about 80 aircraft) would hit selected targets and destroy
the SAM sites when the orders were given. All pilots were restricted
to the base at NAS Cecil Field, FL and could not tell family members
when they would be home or why they were being retained on base. We
could only view pictures of our assigned target, in a dark room, with
our Top Secret clearance in hand. It was interesting to note that
these same pictures were published in Time and Newsweek magazines the
very next week.

After a few days into the missile crisis we were deployed to Key West
Naval Air Station with our F-8 Crusaders fighter aircraft for alert
duty. This placed us only 90 miles from the Island of Cuba. That was
only about 9 minutes away in the supersonic Crusader. We were
scrambled many times when MIGs got airborne in the little Island to
the south. The Ground Control Intercept (GCI) site was very good at
supplying our pilots with the MIG’s heading, altitude and speed. If
the MIG headed north, or toward an American surveillance aircraft we
would be vectored in for the intercept at the ‘speed of heat.’ Somehow
the MIG pilots knew when we were in hot pursuit of them and they
headed back to Cuba as fast as possible. We never got a shot at a MIG
although we chased many away from the Fleet. We were like a big
brother coming to the aid of the surveillance aircraft. If some MIG
harassed them we took over the fight since they had no weapons to
defend themselves. Many times we would be skirting the 3-mile limit
off the cost of Cuba. That limit was later changed to12-miles from the
shoreline.

Our signal to scramble was when the Red Alert Phone rang in our Ready
Room. The two duty fighter pilots, in full flight gear, would run fast
as they could to the flight line. We were on the second deck of a big
hangar, which was about 100 yards from the armed airplanes. At the
first tingle of the Red Alert Phone we were off and running too the
flight line. At the same time the line personnel were notified of the
alert, the plane captain would have the airplane engine started by the
time the pilot arrived. We only took time to fasten the two upper
fittings on the torso harness, close the canopy, and head for the
runway. Needless to say many pieces of support gear were blown over by
jet blast from our high power settings while taxing.

The tower would clear us for take-off with a green light. By the time
we got airborne our radios were warmed up and we could hear the vector
commands coming from the GCI site. Of course we were breathing so hard
from the 100-yard dash that our initial communications were sometimes
garbled.

A humorous event took place during one alert when LCDR Paul Gillcrist
and I were scrambled. Paul had just taken a bite out of a big donut,
which was covered with powdered sugar, when the Red Alert Phone rang.
Paul ran out the Ready Room with the donut in his mouth. He was about
2 paces in front of me and was unaware that an Admiral was about to
turn the corner in the passage. He and the Admiral hit head-on. As I
passed the bodies tumbling on the floor I noticed the white power
coming out of Paul’s mouth. He looked like a dragon puffing white
smoke. I ran to the airplane, got airborne, and was laughing so hard I
could hardly talk to the controllers. Sure enough there was a pair of
MIG-17’s making passes at an Air Force C-121 (AWEPS) aircraft just off
the cost of Cuba. The MIG’s departed just before my arrival. The Air
Force brothers were sure glad to see me on their wing.

If I recall correctly the record time for getting airborne, after the
Red Alert Phone rang, was less than two minutes? An Air Force fighter
squadron was stationed in portable buildings next to the flight line
and we would easily beat them in the air.

The following report was written by Jim Brady, who was one of our
outstanding pilots, about a very crucial and hostile mission he was
on.

LT Howie (Kickstand) Bullman and LTJG Jim (Diamond) Brady of Fighter
Squadron 62 were on 5 minute alert duty at Boca Chica NAS in Key West,
Florida. The purpose of this hot alert was to provide cover and
protection for our surveillance aircraft that were photographing
Russian ships bringing medium and short-range nuclear tipped missiles
into Cuba.

On the day in question, LT Bullman and LTJG Brady were scrambled to
intercept two MIG-17’s that were making gun passes on several P-2V’s
and P-3V’s that were patrolling the Florida Straits. These Navy
aircraft were taking low altitude photos of the decks of Russian ships
carrying numerous missiles into Cuban ports for placement all over
Cuba.

The Cuban Missile Crisis was, without doubt, the seminal point of the
Cold War in that there was never a time when the two nuclear powers
stood more sternly eye to eye with the potential for nuclear war as
the result. The movie"Thirteen Days" in recent years clearly depicted
the level of tension that existed between the antagonists during this
period.

LT Bullman and LTJG Brady were airborne in two and one half minutes
from the sounding of the alarm claxon (the RED ALERT PHONE). They made
a section takeoff in afterburner and accelerated and climbed rapidly
to twenty five thousand feet, where they continued to accelerate to
supersonic speed while taking vectors from BrownStone, the ground
control radar station which was charged with the task of guiding such
intercepts over the Florida Straits.

About 63 miles from Key West and perhaps six minutes from take off,
both LT Bullman and Brady contacted the two MIG-17’s their via there
APG-94 radar systems. BrownStone confirmed the targets and LT
Bullman acknowledged taking over the intercept by calling Judy which
was the code word for assuming control over the intercept in the
cockpit.

The MIG-17’s never saw LT Bullman, or LTJG Brady as they slid in
behind and slightly below the rapidly departing MIG’s as they headed
south toward Santa Clara, Cuba. With their Sidewinders growling in
their headsets, indicating an infrared lock on the tail pipes of the
MIG’s LT Bullman requested permission to attack by firing their
missiles. There was what seemed like an interminable silence from
BrownStone. Actually, the delay in responding was probably less than
20 seconds.

There command was to, Break off the intercept and return to base. LT
Bullman acknowledged the command and the section of F8’s headed back
to Key West. Many hours were spent in debriefing the pilots by a host
of military and civilian officials.
***
Post Script: It was many years before both pilots came to understand
why the attack had been called off. Negotiations between the White
House and the Kremlin had reached a critical stage and the destruction
of two Russian built and, probably, Russian flown aircraft would have,
perhaps, led to the outbreak of hostilities between the Nations. No
one can ever know for sure what would have happened had LT Bullman not
requested instructions from BrownStone. The rules of engagement in
place at the time would have allowed the two F8 pilots to fire on any
aircraft engaged in a hostile or threatening act against any elements
of the Armed Forces of the United States. LT Bullman, through his cool
headed handling of the situation, may have prevented a chain of events
from unfolding that could have been extremely unfortunate for both
Nations. (Jim Brady 5/2005)

After many weeks at Key West our squadron deployed on board the USS
Lexington (CVA 16) for Combat Air Patrol. Our primary mission at time
was for air superiority in case a MIG harassed the Photo Aircraft
taking brownie pictures of Cuba. These Photo Birds continued the
surveillance flights for months after the so-called Thirteen Days
passed.

My squadron also flew CAP (Combat Air Patrol) from Guantanamo Bay,
Cuba (GITMO) for many weeks. Again our mission was to be on station,
usually above 40,000 feet orbiting just off the south coast of Cuba.
We were there ready for action in case a MIG made a run on one of our
surveillance aircraft that was flying across Cuba. There were two air
fields at GITMO at that time, Leeward Point which was 8000 feet long
and McCalla Field, east of the bay, which was only 3500 feet long. The
powers that be decided that the long runway at Leeward Point needed to
be re-surfaced during this time of threat. This left McCalla Field as
the only operating airport at GITMO. This 3500 foot runway was the
only one available for take-offs and landings.

A fully loaded F-8, in afterburner, could get airborne in less than
3000 feet even on a hot day. But the same airplane required almost
8000 feet to stop on a dry runway. The problem was solved by
installing arresting gear mid-way down the runway to trap our fast
flying fighters on landing. The same tailhook that caught the cable
for ship board landing was used to arrest the airplane on the short
field. It worked and was fun. But if you got a hook skip, or missed
the wire, you had to immediately go to full power in order to keep
from becoming a big jet ski off the end of the runway.

Normally, there were two aircraft returning from each mission. Both
planes had to make an arrested landing. It took about 90 seconds to
re-set the arresting gear after the first fighter landed before the
second fighter could land. We had to somehow delay the second plane
from landing by at least 90 seconds. We could not fly but a few
hundred yards north of the airport because of the border between the
good guys and the bad guys. The bad guys had Anti-Aircraft weapons
trained in our direction and we did not want to give them an excuse to
use them.

Of course we could have separated prior to reaching the field and
delayed the second fighter from entering that sacred airspace for a
couple of minutes. But this is not the way a fighter pilot thinks. He
wants to be joined on his leader’s wing in tight formation, at the
speed of heat, all the way to break. The problem was simple to solve
with fighter pilot logic. As the first fighter pitched out for landing
the second airplane would automatically pull up into a vertical loop.
That stopped his forward motion and gave the ground crew the extra
time needed for the arresting gear to be re-set. More importantly it
allowed the pilot to demonstrate his real ‘Tiger’ spirit. His overhead
loop should end where it started, if executed properly, and he would
then pitch-out for landing. We got by with this procedure by telling
the many-motor pilots in charge of base flight operations that was our
only option. Those were the days when we thought, Having multi-engine
time in your log book would be worse than having ‘VD’ in your health
record. The many-motor, station safety officer, thought we were a wild
bunch.

When we first arrived at McCalla Field the station Commanding Officer
welcomed our squadron on board. He asked us to make low passes over
the base housing area, when taking off, so the dependents would know
that the fighters have arrived. During this tense time your presence
would give the civilians an added since of security, he said. That was
authorization a fighter pilot loved to hear. We obeyed his worthy
request by making a hard right turn on take-off heading for the
dependent quarters. We were so low that I am sure some of the shingles
were blown off their roofs. And with F-8 afterburner blazing they were
pounded with mega decibels. These stunts had to be frightful to say
the least. Our fun only lasted one day. The Commanding Officer came
back the next day and said, They know you are here! You guys are
shocking them more than the Cuban threat. Knock it off! We did!

At the end of this 3500’ runway was a steep drop-off. It was about 50
feet straight down to the bay where a squadron of P-5M’s and other
Navy float planes were moored. They had this little secluded cove all
too themselves like a flock of contented ducks along the sandy beach.
Needless to say we had to get their attention as well. On take-off we
would suck up the landing gear, drop down to their altitude, and rake
their place of peace with the deafening noise of the F-8. In just a
couple of days they moved all aircraft far away from our area. As the
old saying goes, Here comes the fighter pilots, lock up the women and
kids.

Other interesting aspects of flying out of GITMO were the threat the
pilots faced in case they had to eject near the runway. Hundreds of
sharks could be seen swimming in the bay, at both ends of the runway,
where garbage was dumped by the natives. Therefore, a water landing
was not a good decision. The Marines had land mines placed in the
ground all around the perimeter of the base and stationed their big
K-9 watch dogs throughout the property. Landing on an explosive mine
or in the mouth of a German Shepard was not the leisure place one
would expect in the picturesque Caribbean. Per-chance the pilot landed
across the fence in mainland Cuba, just a few hundred yards from the
end of the runway; he would become a prisoner of Cuba. Our resolve was
not to eject in this area. If all else failed we would go out to sea
and to make a nylon descent (parachute).

The Red Alert Phone rang. I was duty fighter pilot. I ran to my
airplane and mounted up like a professional fighter pilot heading out
to war, or so I thought. In my excitement I turned the corner too
quickly and this caused the right main tire to blow out. The airplane
was flopping down the runway like driving over a plowed field. A
blown tire was not about to stop me. I had to go. The Red Alert Phone
was not to be ignored.

The airplane had enough thrust to get airborne with a blown tire. But
my directional control was out of hand. She was heading for the ditch
on the right side of the runway as I was quickly accelerating. Going
off the runway could have ruined my whole day. So in order to have
symmetrical control of the airplane, and too correct the extreme right
drift, I just locked the left brake and blew that tire as well. My
directional problem was solved, but the ride was terrible. In a few
seconds I was airborne looking for my bogie. Flat tires were the least
of my concerns. I learned long ago that an airplane is no good on
earth.

The tower was screaming, You blew a tire on take-off! I said, No I
blew two tires on take-off and I am switching frequencies to Combat
Control. When I called the controller I said, This is Silverstep 209
where is my target?" They said, "Your target is flying around the east
end of the Island at 2000 feet and 160 KTS, vector 095 degrees for
join-up." I thought, "Did I hear join-up at 2000 feet and 160 KTS?" I
said, "Say again," with a lot of uncertainty in my voice. The
controller repeated what he had said but added a little more
information during this transmission. He said, "Your target is a Navy
R4D (DC-6) carrying a group of Congressmen from Washington. They want
to take pictures of a Fighter flying wing on them in this hostile
area." I said to myself, "What?" Here I almost destroyed a beautiful
fighter, and possibly myself, just so a group of Congressmen could go
back to Washington with pictures of a Navy fighter flying escort on
them. I made sure they got some good close-ups as I almost put my wing
tip in their face. The R4D pilot was a little nervous to say the
least. Here I was airborne, armed for a kill, with two live sidewinder
missiles, and 1100 rounds of hot 20 MM ammunition on board and my
mission was no more than a Photo Op. Dumb!

I flew with the politicians for a few minutes then headed back to
McCalla Field for landing. When I called the tower, for landing
instructions, the tower operator said, "Silverstep 209 stand-by one!"
In a moment a very stern and authoritative voice from the tower radio
penetrated my helmet with the following. "Silverstep 209 this is the
Safety Officer speaking. You will not be allowed to land at this
airport because you have a blown tire." I said, "McCalla Tower I have
two blown tires. I can easily make an arrested landing with no danger
to me or my airplane." He said, "Sliverstep 209 your airplane is fully
armed and could blow up on landing." I thought to myself, "I know why
this senseless pilot is stationed at this remote place. He is out of
touch with reality." He said, "The USS Lexington is just a few miles
south. You will have to fly there and make an arrested landing on that
carrier. You will not be allowed to land on my airport with blown
tires and live ammo."

I switched over to the USS Lexington’s radio frequency, told them of
my problems and requested permission to land on their ship. I had
flown on and off that boat many times and was well qualified to land
there on. The Air Boss of the ship said, "Silverstep 209 stand-by
one!" I thought, "Here we go again!" In a moment the Air Boss called
and asked me if my plane had made an arrested landing at McCalla Field
in the past few days. Of course it had and I said, "Yes Sir." He said,
"In that case Silverstep 209 you will not be allowed to land on this
carrier." I said, "Why not?" He replied, "There is a regulation that
requires the tailhook too be inspected after landing on a concrete
runway before it can make an arrested landing on a ship." He
continued to say, "It is possible that the tailhook point may be
hardened after such a landing on concrete and could possibly break
upon landing on his ship."

I said, "Sir, they won’t let me land at the airbase and you won’t let
me land on the ship. I am too low on fuel to go to another airport
what do you recommend?" He said, Silverstep 209 stand-by one!" By then
my oxygen mask was percolating with cold sweat like a cheap coffee pot
boiling over. Finally he came back on the air and said, "Silverstep
209 this is the Air Boss speaking." I said, "Yes sir, go ahead, I hear
you loud and clear." He said, "I had worked out an agreement with the
tower controller at McCalla Field. You can make an arrested landing
there, but first you must expend all ammunition and dump fuel down to
the absolute minimum." I said, "WILCO SIR," which means I understand
and will comply with his command. "Piece of cake," I thought. Now I
have a place to roost this crippled bird.

LT John (Pirate) Nichols was returning to McCalla Field from CAP
station and heard our conversation. He joined on my wing and flew
safety observer while I fired 1100 rounds of 20 MM ammunition and two
live sidewinder missiles into the ocean. I then dumped fuel down to
the minimum and headed for the airport. John checked my landing gear
to make sure the blown tires had not damaged other systems in the
wheel wells. He landed ahead of me in case my landing might cause the
field to be closed for a while if things went wrong. My landing was a
normal Navy arrested landing that stopped my plane in just a few
hundred feet. After stopping I noticed hundreds of people lined up on
both sides of the runway to see this pilot and airplane go up in
flames. I thought, "They must have sold tickets for this event." Well,
I disappointed them and lived happily ever after, most of the times.

A few days later Lt. Dick Oliver and I were flying CAP at 45,000’ when
two additional fighters relieved us on station. After flying the race
tract pattern for almost two hours we were ready for a little rest and
relaxation. We started descending rapidly and accelerated beyond the
speed of sound in a very short time as we were heading for McCalla
Field. It was always fun to let the Crusader do what it was designed
for and that was to fly very fast. In fact the Crusader was the first
airplane that was able to exceed 1000 MPH. We were smoking through the
air at the speed of heat when all of a sudden Lt. Oliver’s aircraft
slowed down very fast. I was not expecting his rapid deceleration and
slid past him quickly. Lt. Oliver was a very smooth pilot and would
never try to throw his wingman out of position like that. Something
had to be wrong with his airplane. I heard a muffled transmission but
could not determine what it was or where it was coming from. I pulled
almost straight up to stop my forward motion in order to get back in
position on my leaders wing. I observed him several thousand feet
below flying very slow. In fact he had his airplane configured for
landing, with gear down, wing up, and we were still about 75 miles
from the airport. I had to perform all kind of ‘S’ turns to get back
in position. All the while I was calling him on my radio but was only
getting garble transmissions in return. As I was joining on his
starboard wing I noticed that his canopy was gone. Wow! That explained
his rapid deceleration and the muffled transmissions I had heard.

Losing a canopy at any altitude and airspeed can be a freighting
experience. A canopy loss at 35,000’ and at 1.2 Mach is very dangerous
for many reasons. It is highly likely that the pilot can be ejected
from the airplane without notice. This is due to the fact that the
Martin Baker ejection seat is designed to fire, or eject, when the
face curtain is pulled out of its holder. The purpose of the face
curtain is to two fold. It is attached to the armed ejection pin by a
cable and is actually the trigger that fires the seat. It also helps
protect the pilot’s face from the sudden wind blast during ejection.

As I looked at Lt. Oliver’s airplane I noticed that his face curtain
was flapping in the wind. That meant his ejection seat could fire at
any moment. All that was needed was another half inch of travel and he
would have been shot out of the airplane. After we slowed down our
transmissions were easier to understand. I told him what I observed
and the possibility of an unexpected ejection. We had no choice but to
continue to the airport, not knowing what might happen. The other
major consideration was the fact that he would have to make an
arrested landing at the short field as noted above. In an arrested
landing the airplane decelerates very rapidly. If we made it to the
airport without the seat firing there was a good possibility that the
seat may fire during the sudden stop when catching the arresting
cable. These older F-8’s did not have ground level and zero airspeed
capability of saving a pilot. As I recall we had to have at least
flying speed for the parachute to completely deploy. Our concern was
if the seat fired at the time of the arrested landing the pilot
probably would not survive. Needless to say the remainder of that
flight was very tense. It sure would have been nice to have an 8000’
runway near-by.

We continued on to McCalla Field. The tower was notified and all the
emergency equipment was standing by for our arrival. In fact the tower
wanted me to land first in case the seat did fire causing the airport
to be closed. After I made my arrested landing and was taxing to the
flight line I observed Lt. Oliver catching the wire, coming to a rapid
stop, and climbing out of his airplane as quick as possible. We
noticed after landing that this canopy had not separated from the
airplane as we thought. The canopy frame was still locked and
attached. The problem was the glass in the canopy had broken. Of
course the results were the same, except they could not fault the
pilot for not properly locking his canopy.

These are just a few of the good, the bad and the ugly times we
experienced during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Such events were not out
of the ordinary when operating high performance aircraft from land or
sea. There are many similar stories from those who flew missions in
all branches of the military in all types of airplane or helicopters.
When you’re operating at the EDGE the normal can become abnormal
instantly. We all required a lot of professional attention and help
from the Almighty to survive.

I can honestly say that my military comrades are some of the most
respected folks that I have ever had dealing with. We worked together
as a team, no matter the rank or rate. We had a mission to perform and
we did. I honor those who gave all for their country no matter when or
where.

I recorded these accounts for my children and my children’s children.
I would encourage all to take the time to jot down some events of your
past that can be passed on to others. I have noted in my ‘remembering’
that a part of me is awakened and the review is a tonic for my soul.
You were there. You did it. And as Dizzy Dean said, "If you can do it,
it ain’t bragging!"

God bless, Ron Knott (5/2005).