Profile 64: FINAL - "Kingfish One" as flown by Leo Thorsness

DONE!  And for a guy who normally loathes his own work, I'm surprised.  It's pretty good.

You might be interested to know that this very F-105F survived the Vietnam War, which, if you read the stats in a prior post, is a rare thing.  According to one statistician, an F-105 pilot in 1967 Vietnam had a 1:4 chance in completing his required tour of 100 missions.  One could say that "301" was fortunate to have made it.

However, I don't think the word "fortunate" could be used to describe what happened to Leo.  Barely a week and a half after the mission that would result in Leo's Medal of Honor,  he and Weapons Officer Harold Johnson experienced a dramatic shock. They were shot down and became Prisoners of War.

I've only talked to a handfull of pilots who have been POWs and every time, it's a gobsmack.  I. Cannot. Imagine.  And when it came time to talk to Leo about his time in captivity, I blanked.  Having just finished his biography the night before our first conversation (click here), I was at a loss for words.  It seemed in terrible taste to ask, "So, Leo.  Tell me again about being tortured."

Rehashing Leo's POW horrors do no good anyway.   It's common knowledge that people can be horrible - do the fine points really matter?!   Plus I had a finite amount of time with the guy. I wasn't going to waste it by dignifying depravity with attention.

Anyway...in the course of events, we got to the point of signing the prints of my artwork and he asked me if I would mind if he signed them with the words, "God bless you."

Well, of course not!  He could have signed them with his favorite potato salad recipe if he wanted.   But at first, I was a little uninspired at what appeared to be a hackneyed platitude.  Kind of like how most of us say, "Fine" after being asked how we're doing, regardless if we're truly "Fine" or not.  It's white noise, right?

Ok. Stop reading for a second and grab a pencil or pen.

(I'll wait)

Now look at the little picture below.  You've probably figured out it's the alphabet, missing the letter "K."   That's not important right now*.  It's actually a code key.  Got your pencil/pen ready?

Ok.  We're going to use the little graph to get a message from Leo.

Find the "G".   It's the second letter in the second row, second column.  So, take your pen/pencil and tap the edge of your desk twice.  "TAP TAP,"  then wait a moment and tap again.  "TAP TAP."  You just tapped out the letter "G."

Next, find the "B"  - first row, second column.   "TAP,"  wait a moment, "TAP TAP."

Now, find the "U" - fourth row, fifth column.  "TAP TAP TAP TAP,"  wait... "TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP."

What's it spell?  "GBU."

Now.  Imagine yourself in a small concrete cell, alone.  The air is dank, the floor is hard and the place reeks of human excretion.   There is no bed, there is no window.   The only people you've seen in the past year are those that inflict physical and mental pain.    "Tomorrow" means more of the same.  

And then, a series of rhythmic clicks hits your senses - maybe through your ears, maybe through the  concrete into your bruised skin.  It doesn't matter.  You know you're not...alone.

TAP TAP -  TAP TAP

TAP - TAP  TAP

TAP TAP TAP TAP -  TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP


TAP TAP - TAP TAP

TAP TAP TAP - TAP TAP TAP

GBU.  GN.

Or, as Leo knew - "God Bless U.  Good Night."

In spite of the hell they were in, the American POWs could still look beyond.  To me at least, that is Faith.

Amazing.  And it gets even more so because no one went into the infamous "Hanoi Hilton" (the nickname for the prison) knowing the POW tap-tap code.  It was taught - through the walls, without words, by others that were never seen.  And for those teachers of the tap-code? When they were caught, they were brutalized again.

Imagine it - to be in total want, and yet risk what little you have in order to stay true.

If this story impacted you like it did me, you've now been gobsmacked, too.

Today, we only have our allotted time.  There are forces that are going to conspire against our dreams, our will, our beliefs.   They come at us in the form of insurmountable odds, overwhelming circumstances or unshakable authority...

GBU, Leo.  I'm grateful for your example and hope to have learned from it.

TAP TAP TAP TAP - TAP TAP TAP TAP
TAP TAP - TAP TAP TAP
TAP- TAP
TAP TAP TAP - TAP TAP TAP
TAP - TAP TAP TAP*
TAP TAP TAP TAP - TAP TAP TAP


*The letter C stood for K in the POW code.  

Last flight - Bill Creech, 528th FS, 311th FG

You know...it's one thing to meet someone who's a Medal of Honor holder, ace, warrior, commander, leader...and value their moments.  Every man in this blog is exceptional for something...

But, I only get to "know" most of the people here for a few blips in their life.

However.  I have to write this...today, one of the men here died...and I knew him beyond the heroic moments of combat. To me, he was not only a highly decorated, courageous leader, he was a Great man.  

With or without wings. 

This is personal...and it's self-indulgent to write this without going into the details, but that's what I'm going to do because the necessary words just aren't available to write.

I'm very sad. 

However, if you've ever had someone Great in your life, you know what I'm experiencing. If you haven't...as bad as this feels for me right now, I suggest you find someone like Bill Creech.

Cheers, Bill...

A few years ago, I published a little story about him.  You can download the .pdf by clicking here.  There are a lot of pictures, so don't be put-off by the 12meg download.

And...the airplane below is the airplane Bill believed he should have had in '44.  Long story...

Profile 64: UPDATE II "Kingfish One" as flown by Leo Thorsness

"Kingfish One" is nearing completion.  I've got a long list of tiny details to work through - it'll go fast from here but you'll notice a big difference between now and finish.  So don't look too close.

But very soon, this F-105F will be brought back to life as she flew on April 19, 1967 - the day that would afford Leo the chance to earn our nation's highest military award - the Congressional Medal of Honor.

Whoever designed the actual Medal, nailed the design.  It's at once, awesome and awkward, capturing the true spirit of the kind of gallantry and selflessness its intended to mark.

Wrapped close around the neck, the muted blue ribbon and hefty gold star leave no mistake of its importance.  But no photograph I've seen shows anyone quite comfortable wearing it - which makes total sense considering the circumstances that justify its presence.  No one has an easy-time of getting a Medal of Honor.  And since the Medal of Honor is never part of a "goal," those that are so awarded are struck with a "why me?" that compels them to share it - at least spiritually - with others.

Believe me, my writer's ego would love the chance to assert itself in trying to describe April 19th's mission.    However,  I'm afraid I'd look like the drunk no one invited to the party.  The official citation does it well enough...

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty. As pilot of an F-105 aircraft, Lieutenant Colonel Thorsness was on a surface-to-air missile suppression mission over North Vietnam. Lieutenant Colonel Thorsness and his wingman attacked and silenced a surface-to-air missile site with air-to-ground missiles and then destroyed a second surface-to-air missile site with bombs. In the attack on the second missile site, Lieutenant Colonel Thorsness’ wingman was shot down by intensive antiaircraft fire, and the two crewmembers abandoned their aircraft. Lieutenant Colonel Thorsness circled the descending parachutes to keep the crewmembers in sight and relay their position to the Search and Rescue Center. During this maneuver, a MIG-17 was sighted in the area. Lieutenant Colonel Thorsness immediately initiated an attack and destroyed the MIG. Because his aircraft was low on fuel, he was forced to depart the area in search of a tanker. Upon being advised that two helicopters were orbiting over the downed crew’s position and that there were hostile MIGs in the area posing a serious threat to the helicopters, Lieutenant Colonel Thorsness, despite his low fuel condition, decided to return alone through a hostile environment of surface-to-air missile and anti-aircraft defenses to the downed crew’s position. As he approached the area, he spotted four MIG-17 aircraft and immediately initiated an attack on the MIGs, damaging one and driving the others away from the rescue scene. When it became apparent that an aircraft in the area was critically low on fuel and the crew would have to abandon the aircraft unless they could reach a tanker, Lieutenant Colonel Thorsness, although critically short on fuel himself, helped to avert further possible loss of life and a friendly aircraft by recovering at a forward operating base, thus allowing the aircraft in emergency fuel condition to refuel safely. Lieutenant Colonel Thorsness’ extraordinary heroism, self-sacrifice and personal bravery involving conspicuous risk of life were in the highest traditions of the military service, and have reflected great credit upon himself and the U.S. Air Force.

For me, the inspiring gleam in this stunning story is Leo's leadership.  This mission was not a single act of bravery but a long chain of do-die decisions that made the needs of others the supreme priority.  And on that afternoon, Leo was the urgent thing that saves the soul - hope.

Ok.  Fast-forward to October, 1973 and the photo below.  It's Leo's Medal of Honor ceremony with President Nixon.

For those of you who are quick with numbers, you'll notice the six-year span between 1967 and 1973.  That's a long time to wait to get a medal.

For those of you who are observant, you'll notice the crutch.

And that's Leo's mom and his wife.  They've just put six very hard years behind them.

Stay tuned...

Photo via Minnesota Public Radio, used with permission of Leo Thorsness.

Profile 64: UPDATE "Kingfish One" as flown by Leo Thorsness

Have a look.  Not much, but it's getting there.  The shape's about right though - and man, what a shape! That thing's a knife.  And a knife that flies at Mach 2, too.  If I were on the ground and saw that slicing towards me, I'd know something serious was going to happen.

The F-105 "Thunderchief" was designed in the '50s as a fighter-bomber by the Republic Aircraft Company.  They were the same folk that created the iconic WW2 airplane of the same mission, the P-47 "Thunderbolt."  However, the F-105's load-carrying capability was easily over TEN TIMES its older brother.   And four times faster, too.  Evolution was marked by continually raised limits back then.

But while the airframe eggheads were reveling in the innovations of the jet age, there were others who were focusing and sharpening another WW2-era invention (actually 1930s). Radar. And, in Vietnam, Radar and Thunderchief would collide in terrible fashion.

For most Westerners who've learned about the North Vietnamese fighting forces, the picture comes to mind of tiny primitives dressed in black pajamas armed with sharpened sticks and stolen rifles.  And cone-shaped hats. That may have been true a time or two (more so for Hollywood types).  But make no mistake about it - the North Vietnamese fighting forces were serious, resourceful and wanting - not to meet the American tech - but to beat the American tech.  And the only really clear lead the Americans had in "Tech" was their aerial forces.

If you were a communist revolutionary tired of seeing American iron in the sky, who'd you call to make it stop?

Russia provided the North Vietnamese forces with their top-secret "Dvina" missile system.  Guided by radar, the Dvina - commonly known as a SAM; short for surface-to-air-missile - would acquire a target and launch its missile.  It was straight-forward to operate and extremely difficult to counter; exactly the kind of thing the North Vietnamese needed.

Accelerating to over Mach 3, the SAM wouldn't need a direct hit.  Instead, it would explode when it sensed proximity.  250ft would do.  Here.  I'll show you...

I made the illustration above "to-scale" so you could get an idea of the distances.  And yeah, that's an F-105 getting hit in the nose.

Bear in mind, it wasn't the first time our Generals had to scratch their chins about Dvina - one brought down a U-2 spy plane over Russia during the infamous "Gary Powers" incident in 1960.  In the five years since, the system had been improved to be even more lethal to jets flying at lower altitudes and at greater speeds, too.

SAM sites sprouted up around the critical target areas around Hanoi.

Anyway, so what to do about these SAMs?  Enter the "Wild Weasels."  Their mission was to fly ahead of the attack formation, PURPOSELY trigger a SAM launch so their own smaller Shrike missile could get a lock (again via radar) on the launch site and blow it up.  Makes total sense.  Until you wonder, "Hey.  What about the missile that's been launched?"

Leo told me, "Well.  You've got three, four seconds."

"To do exactly what, Leo?"

"Evade."

Simple.   Like telling someone who's going swimming with seals, "Don't get attacked by a shark."

At the next progress update, I'll describe Leo's second-most-memorable Wild Weasel mission.


OH!  A few numbers for you.*

Of the 144 F-105F/G "Wild Weasels" built, 38 were lost to combat.  A 26% loss rate.  Go ahead and whistle softly.  Would you buy a car with a 26% crash rate?

But get this - of the 833 F-105s built (including prototypes), 320 were lost to combat.  A 38% loss rate.  Go ahead and mumble whatever you mumble when you realize such awful odds.

*Combining data from my own library, the sometimes questionable Wikipedia and pilot's own words, I try to come up with my own reasonable averages.  In some cases, the numbers are spot-on. In others, they are up for conjecture.  Use these figures as a rule but don't base your Master's Thesis on them.

Profile 64 - "Kingfish One" as flown by Leo Thorsness

We love stories of courage.

In my opinion, most of such stories aren't so much loved as they are consumed. Like popcorn at the theater. I remember watching the movie, "We Were Soldiers" staring at the screen in disbelief that anyone could have lived through that. Same thing with watching The Miracle Worker, the story about Helen Keller's teacher.

"Wow! (munch munch) Lookit that! Those people are amazing! (munch, slurp)"

There's no real fault in such a perspective. The "amazing" stories of human triumph are so far beyond the average person's work-a-day life that they become a Hollywood Moment by default.

Over the years, I've met a lot of guys who've performed incredible acts of courage. After a while though - probably because I'd heard enough of them - the surreal "Wow!' started to wear off and I began to wonder how I'd perform in the same circumstances.

If you really think about it, the exercise, "What would I really do in those shoes?" is a sobering one for this single fact: no one plans on being a hero.  Instead, circumstances come together in an urgent NOW! that can shred the best intentions in a blink.

This post marks the beginning of the F-105F "Wild Weasel" as flown by Leo Thorsness* on the mission that earned him the Congressional Medal of Honor. Bravery? Lights? Camera? Action? They're all there.  And far beyond one single mission.

But - if I get it right - this process will help illustrate that courage isn't the exception. Courage is...

"KINGFISH ONE - SAM ON SCOPE!"

Photo:  Soviet designed SAM-2, surface-to-air missiles.


*Note:  The F-105F was a two-seater.  Captain Harold Johnson occupied the back-seat of the F-105 as the aircraft's Electronic Warfare Officer.  As commander of the aircraft, Thorsness bore the responsibility of Decision for the mission and lead accordingly.  However, that does not diminish the fact that Harold Johnson supported Thorsness's decisions and performed his role brilliantly.

Profile 63 - FINAL "369" as flown by Robert Mason, 1st Cav

Done.  And coming it at 77 hours, Mason's UH-1D is now the high-water mark in terms of time-spent. Most of these profiles take about 40 hours.

And for a few minutes, I just about embarked on another 77 hours writing this post!  There's something about the Vietnam War that makes people want to wax philosophic... but just a few minutes ago, I (wisely) decided that my ignorance on the subject would be too much for readers to bear and deleted my budding tome before it grew any bigger.

However, I would like to share with you an interesting anecdote about Bob.

If you've read Chickenhawk, it's a book that fairly demands being made into a movie.  It'd be a major production - war movies are by their nature notoriously expensive.  See, explosions just don't happen without big bankrolls.  Nine-figure bank rolls.  Not counting the pennies.

Over the years, Chickenhawk has attracted its share of attention from Hollywood.  And it still is.

Anyway, Bob described one particular big-name offer and why, in the end, he walked away from it.  "It was a lousy script! (I knew) I'd have to sit in a theater with my friends!" he laughed.  "And (the movie) would suck!"

And so there you have it.  The reason why one of the most successful Vietnam-era books has not been made into a movie yet - Robert Mason doesn't want to catch hell from his buddies.

But earlier in our conversation, we talked about how wars start, how wars are fought and how wars are measured... and you know, the war business is really not that different than the movie business.  Producers, directors, actors, budgets, scripts... with an audience to please and critics to duck.

Too bad though that someone call "Suck!" on the whole Vietnam thing around 1961.

Thank you for the inspiration, Bob.  This has been a great experience for me.

Photo:  courtesy Robert Mason

Profile 63 - UPDATE: "369" as flown by Robert Mason, 1st Cav

"CHALK 4 - INBOUND" *

Here she is so far - "Chickenhawk" author Robert Mason's UH-1D as he flew in the "1st Cav" in Vietnam.

I had a great conversation with Bob the other day.  And the highlight wasn't about Vietnam. Instead, the most fascinating part of the conversation was Bob's explanation about how helicopters worked and it confirmed what I believed was true; Helicopter pilots have something 'extra' going on in their brains.   They have to - rotor-powered flight is that much more complicated than fixed-wing flight.

This 'extra' allows Helo pilots to dwell in the abstract just a little bit longer than the rest of us and therefore master this most challenging of processes.

In other words, helicopter pilots aren't just bright.  They're on it.

He clued me in on a phenomena called "Ground Resonance."  In a nutshell, the complicated mechanics of rotational movements from whirling blades to the ground underneath the skids can send waves of motion down to the ground and back up again.  Back and forth.  Back and forth...

Until the helicopter either leaves the ground or throws itself into little pieces.  And it can happen quickly - tremors, shudders and suddenly, the aircraft is ripping itself apart.  Thankfully, Ground Resonance is just a symptom with an easy cure - lift off the ground and cancel the waves.

But without knowledge, without fast understanding and without preparation, it's awful.

In thinking this strange quirk of physics through, it struck me that there's a parallel between Ground Resonance and how people adjust to stress.  The irony of Bob's book, "Chickenhawk" wasn't lost on me  either.  In essence, the Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome (PTSD) that Bob experienced after his Vietnam service was the flesh & blood version of Ground Resonance.

It's easy to teach a do-this, do-that technique to overcome physics, but can you do that with the human mind trying to adjust to the decidedly inhuman act of warfare??

I want Bob to weigh in here...but until then, there are about ten more hours, a few more questions and "369" will be Back in the World.

Oh - here's a video on "Ground Resonance."

Profile 63 - UPDATE - "369" as flown by Robert Mason

Update time, and here she is so far.  Robert Mason's UH-1D "Slick" as he flew in Vietnam.

What a crazy machine.

I'm re-reading Bob's book, "Chickenhawk" to get into the era-vibe and I was struck by the part where he describes training to fly helicopters. It seems like every aspect of its flight is a circus act - like the guy on the unicycle, juggling hammers and balancing a monkey on a pole...

These are Bob's words:


"...I moved my left hand up and down, twisting it, to control the imaginary Collective and Throttle; my right hand moved in small circles, pretending to control a Cyclic; my feet controlled the Tail Rotor by pumping back and forth.  Eventually I could do all these movements simultaneously."

Complicated, eh?

Whenever I visualize a fixed-wing airplane, I see simple forward motion.  Elegance.  The exhilaration of open sky.  Freedom.  Vistas.  But jumping into Bob's Huey, I'm dumbfounded by precarious balance of forces threatening to throw itself apart at any moment.

"How is this going to work?!"

The truth is, however, in spite of a helicopter's complexity and demands, it doesn't throw itself apart.  Instead, it flies in a brilliant fashion that makes utter practical sense.  Helicopters work fantastically well!

Which of course leads us why the UH-1 was so ubiquitous in Vietnam - it was part of the practical plan to create a mobile army that could be picked up and placed at will.   The generals hovering over The Big Board could place their chips and markers, confident in the idea that it could be done...and at 125 miles per hour.

We've all seen the movies....

"Whup Whup Whup Whup Whup"   Bob and his colleagues would swarm into their "LZs," machine guns rattling, smears of gunsmoke, whirling blades of plant and power...stop, disgorge and get the hell out of there.

The mental powers required to control the helicopter, accomplish the mission and suspend a significant portion of reality (i.e. mortal combat) are immense.

Bob did it over 1,000 times in Vietnam.  Go ahead and say "wow."  I know I am - the pressure to make this one perfect is higher than any I've experienced.

Stay tuned.

Photo courtesy Robert Mason

Profile 63 - "369" as flown by Robert Mason

Here's my pencil-study of the next Profile.  How's this for a way to start 2012?

When I began interviewing WW2 vets, I never fooled myself that the artwork I'd create as part of the process would become my hallmark.  There are only so many hours in a day.  The time needed to even approach the level of many aviation artists simply - for me - didn't, doesn't and never will exist.

But, the 'story' - the story would require less innate talent on my part and more of the deep well of passion for learning about life through the paths it takes.  "The Story" is simply mine to uncover and display.  I can do this.

Years ago, I was given the book, "Chickenhawk" by a friend who wondered if I'd enjoy learning more of aerial combat in Vietnam.  At the time, Hollywood was in full-crank on its fascination with all-things-SE-Asia.  Killing Fields, Platoon, Full Metal Jacket...and of course, the fanciful, Apocalypse Now.

Truth be told, "Vietnam" was interesting, but at the time, I was hoping more so for a drastic remake of the movie Midway.  The dramatic angst of the Era were too closely linked to my mother's television-side rantings against George McGovern and the vibrant images of "Hippies" who slurred their speech and looked so...dirty.  I didn't like watching Vietnam on the news, I didn't like hearing about it in the house and given a choice between dreams of blue-nosed P-51s and dingy UH-1s, I'd take the Mustang.

Yet,  I cracked the book...and finished it the next day in a marathon of page turning.  Though Mason's life - in and out of combat - was fascinating in its own right, I remember putting the book down and thinking, "This is how you write!"

Damn.  It was 20+ years ago that I read Chickenhawk and to this day, it remains in my rarified Gold Standards of the art of truth-telling.

Recently, I contacted Robert to do his Vietnam UH-1 "Slick" - not as a vehicle to share history (which it should be obvious that I love doing) but as my way of thanking him for giving me an amazing well to draw upon.

Over the next few weeks, I'll be bring one of his Huey's back to life - #369.   In the meantime, if you have an appetite for reading, do yourself a favor and get his book.

First Air Cav is saddled - let's crank!

Click here for the book.

Click here to learn more about Robert.

Photo courtesy Robert Mason

Profile 62 - FINAL - "229336" as flown by Ken Dahlberg

On October 5th, I made the post that WW2 ace and post-war entrepreneur Ken Dahlberg died - my artwork was posted in its unfinished form.  Well, it should be obvious that this post completes the picture.  Have a look.

One of the great disservices of popular culture is how it horrifies death.  Having been to a few funerals, all the talk of "Celebrating Life" is really just marketing BS.  Who's foolin who?  We all know what really happens at a funeral - the guy/gal is buried, we slap the dirt from our hands and head to the church for sandwiches.  In reality, the life is "celebrated" as long as the coffee holds out.

I'm really sad that I didn't get to meet Ken in-person.  But I'm really grateful for his example.  Like going from risking his life in service to risking his ideas in the marketplace to risking his wealth as an investor... What did Ken learn?  What about him is worth remembering?

More than ever, our country needs to glorify its successful history - from the leaders to the innovators to the laborers;  real people who built a real nation.  The artifacts of true success should never be buried but kept atop and examined.  In so doing, the past and present dissolve into each other, forming greater knowledge and wisdom.

In other words, we live what we learn.

If your interest in Ken has been raised, do your own search.  I hope that it inspires you to achieve and in so doing, he'll live forever.  And you will too.

Profile 60 - FINAL - "306" as crewed by Ken Salisbury

Complete!  “306” - the C-47 that carried Ken Salisbury through much of his WW2 experience.  And I purposely finished it to coincide with Veteran’s Day. 306 was chosen in part, because of her Operation Market Garden (OMG) service.  On September 17, 1944, this airplane - along with the rest of the 59th Troop Carrier Squadron (TCS) - took part in the largest aerial assault in history.  Some 35,000 gear-laden troops were unloaded over a 40 mile line that loosely connected a set of bridges that, if captured, would allow an easy artery for Allied blood to choke Hitler. "The war will be over by Christmas!"  That was the plan anyway. 306 was bound for the northernmost point on said line- a punctuation mark named for the Dutch word for “Eagles Nest” - Arnhem.  Her cargo would be 12 to 18 members of the British First Airborne Division and placed by an aircraft slapped with the silly nickname “Gooney Bird.” To the planner, British Field Marshall Montgomery, OMG was hardly silly.  Instead, it was supposed to be the fast ticket to an early end of WW2 in Europe. Ken’s memories of that day come in flashes and bits.  He remembers helping the paratroops clamber aboard and up the C-47’s ground-bound incline before taking his seat at the airplane’s radio.  He remembers the steady throb of engines, the howl of wind from the open door and, in his words, “Hollering hello to the Brits who joked that I was lucky to be getting a ride back so quickly.” Barks of gray smoke, a sudden shudder and the settling in of the steady drone of airplane engines marked just another mission to Ken.  “No one talked.  Mostly because the noise was loud.  Which was probably just as well.” He stated matter of factly.  “We flew with the door open - always with a ‘Stick of Troops’ aboard so (once in flight) there was a constant wind howl too.”  Ken pauses.  “We didn’t talk much.” It’s also just as well Ken didn’t get too friendly as it’s quite possible that most of the British Paratroopers were dead within a week.  You cannot even begin to think about that. Sorry for the downer... It’s time to tell you the other reason why “306” was chosen.  It’s because this unarmed Gooney was also a Tactical Bomber during OMG.  Yeah, you read correctly.  This C-47 fought back. Typically, airborne assaults took place at night.  But OMG was a daylight raid.  And, with a preferred drop altitude of 600 feet, 306 was not only 'right there' she was also well within small arms range.  And, with a drop airspeed of around 105 mph, 306 was slow.  They were aerial “sitting ducks.”  Yet, not completely defenseless. “If we were towing gliders, we had to drop the tow rope.”  Ken explained.  It was 300 feet long, made of braided nylon and capped with two 6 pound “D” rings.”  Ken cleared his throat.  “After the drop, we’d dive to pick up speed and become a harder target for (enemy) fighters.  It was officially called 'Contour Flying' but most of us called it 'Hitting the Deck!" If the enemy happened to be on the ground somewhere close to that push-over point, they got the tow rope dropped on them.  “It played hell on anything on the ground.”  Ken explained.  “300 feet long, coming down at 100 plus miles per hour, it could ruin an anti-aircraft crew.” But on September 17, 306 wasn’t towing gliders*.  Instead, her pilot authorized the decidedly unauthorized practice of grenade throwing on enemy troops.  And the target area was full of them.  “I had a rope tied around me, so I wouldn’t get sucked out the side door.  I looked up (through the cabin) and saw into the cockpit where the co pilot had his left hand - he gave the thumbs up and I pulled the pins and threw.” You know, at first blush, the story sounds rather amusing.  Something of the sort that would be a comic-relief scene in a movie.  Maybe hear a “Yahoo!” from the good guy.  But Ken wasn’t Yahooing.  He looked at me matter-of-factly as if to say, “Yes. That’s war.  Kill or be killed.” Did he hit anything?  “I don’t know.” he replied flatly.  “We just got out of there.” After five hours aloft,  306 touched down at her base in Barkston Heath, England where Ken had his debriefing and an official shot of booze. You know, listening to fighter pilots, one can be tempted to believe that war is tremendously appealing.  The duel, the test of skill, the mastery of machine, the roll of Fate...I like it.  But over the years, the closer I get to the ground, the faster things get ugly.  I spent 60 agonizing minutes with an infantryman on a tour bus, hearing him barf out out his story as if he'd been sick to his stomach for 65 years.  Which he'd been.  I don't want to be in that place again. But here - "306" is a blend of both.  The glamour of flight, the ugliness of war.   Have another look, would ya?  And however you do it, throw a salute to Ken, the British Paratroops, the misguided Germans below... It's Veteran's Day today. The picture above is Ken.  He's showing me a picture of his wartime buddy, Harold "Westy" West.  Harold was killed in one of those quirky twists of fate when Harold took Ken's place in the wrong C-47 - it's a long story but Ken's never forgotten it. This morning over coffee, Ken described how he visited Westy's mom right after the war and I thought this print should be dedicated to her.   *The next day, on Sept. 18, 306 did indeed do a glider-pull and afterwards got aggressive with the tow rope.

Profile 60 - UPDATE - "306" as crewed by Ken Salisbury

When I started this C-47, the first post was a poke at the History Channel program, "Ice Road Truckers."  But the truth remains, I'm drawing a truck.  Granted, a truck with wings, but it's a truck nonetheless.

As you can see, we're getting close - about 80% there - and when finished, she'll haul the story of Ken Salisbury and Operation Market Garden on September 17 and 18.  I'm looking forward to sharing it with you because it's rather new.

But, unlike Ice Road Truckers - a success for the History Channel, Market Garden was a failure for the Allied military.  And at the heart of its failure was, ironically, the securing of transportation routes for supply and war materiel.  You know - "Trucking."

On paper, the idea behind Market Garden was hard to fault.  Gain entry into the heart of Germany by crossing the natural fortress of the Rhine River* via a series of bridges in the Netherlands.  Once secure, Allied infantry and armored units would own set of freeways to race into Hitler's front yard.

General Eisenhower** however, favored an even push Eastward along the entire front.  From the English Channel straight South to the Mediterranean.   By doing so, the Allies from the West and the Soviets from the East would deny any real place of retreat and a fast Surrender would be obvious even to Hitler's deranged state of mind.   However, the rapid advance of Allied forces had outstripped its own ability to supply itself.  Even Patton's famous Tankers were stranded for lack of fuel!  So, Eisenhower's wishes would have to wait until supplies built up to afford a final, strong puuuush!

However, British General Montgomery believed time was more important than tactics.  "We gotta go NOW!"   Instead,  paratroops could be dropped near the key bridges, have them secured and therefore open the asphalt arteries; Germany would be done before Christmas.

Montgomery and I have never met.  But from what I've read, he was sometimes confused between doing the right thing for the team versus doing the right thing for his career.***  Maybe he had a mental picture of himself riding into Berlin and personally ending the war.  Maybe not.  But this much is known - his plan depended upon everything going absolutely right.

Eisenhower - at first - wouldn't hear of it.  Too much of a drain on tight supplies and too much of a reliance on assumptions.  But Monty basically pestered Eisenhower - having raised a couple fifth graders, I understand this process - until Ike said, "Fine."

And so began a herculean haul of paratroops and provisions to points "behind enemy lines."

I swiped the photo below from Wikipedia but it's supposed to be paratroops dumping into Holland.  You can see the men dangling beneath their chutes and the whispy shadows of British Horsa gliders.

What you can't see are the C-47s towing the gliders.

Or the sleepy Germans below.

But they're going to wake up really soon.

(insert sound of rifle bolt chambering a round).

*And tributaries.

**General Eisenhower was the CEO/Chairman of the Board for the entire Allied power in Europe.  Even the Brits saluted him and said, "Yes sir."

***General Patton had this identical issue, too.  So did MacArthur.  So did...(get the picture?)

Profile 60 - UPDATE - "306" as crewed by Ken Salisbury (Bombardier?)

Change in plans - I'm doing "C" instead of "R."

New information - in the form of the mission orders for the opening salvo of "Market Garden" on September 17 and 18, 1944 - have come to light and it's clear that Ken made his bombing run in C-47 S/N 42-23306, code-letter "C."

As you can see by the artwork, there's a LOT to do.  I'm not quite convinced of some of the particular airplane's markings and I'm totally unhappy with how my eye is perceiving the weathering of this hard-working hauler.

 But for the history geeks among us (and that'd be you, right?) you're probably wondering why I wrote "bombing run" for this particular airplane when it's also clear all she was supposed to do was run paratroopers to the landing zone.

Well, sometimes in war, things don't happen by the book.

The orders are posted below...

Profile 60 - "306" as crewed by Ken Salisbury.

11-4-11 note:  I'd planned on doing the C-47 with the aircraft letter "R" but new information came to light and now, it's "C". 

If it weren't for the "Kardashian Divorce" hogging all the headlines, you might have heard the good news that we found a photo of Ken's C-47, X5-C on CNN instead of here.

But sometimes a guy just has to have priorities and right now, getting this Bird right is mine.

Ken and I agreed that the best representation of his C-47 was circa "Operation Market Garden."   We liked the presence of the black and white Invasion Stripes and it was indeed a time where Ken was "behind enemy lines."  However I am rather fascinated with the Operation itself.

See...Market Garden was a failure.  So much so, it inspired a classic best selling book and a movie.  Want to know more?  Start with Cornelius Ryan's classic work - "A Bridge to Far."

But I'll give you a primer on Market Garden in 21st Century lingo:  A multinational corporation is expanding into new markets when a Senior VP decides it's his moment in history to create a spectacular success for the business.  The CEO disagrees.  The Sr. VP creates a scene.  The CEO relents to a modified plan...and in the matter of a few weeks, Ken Salisbury is sitting in his trembling C-47 awaiting take off.

It's September 17, 1944.

Things are going to get ugly.  Quickly.

Profile 60 - ???? as crewed by Ken Salisbury

10-29-11 note:  We're now pretty sure the Serial Number of Ken's C-47 is S/N: 42-32898.  Yay!  

"Ice Road Truckers?!" My friend shouted.  "That's not HISTORY!"

The scene was an after-five table at a local watering hole.  The issue was The History Channel's decision to persist in their popular show about driving loads across ice while canceling Dogfights - the definitive program that highlighted historical moments in aerial combat.

I even think he slammed his beer on the table for emphasis.  CUNK!

Now, your emotion may vary, but my frustrated buddy was arguing from apparent truth.  Compared to a swirling duel above Hitler's Germany, an "ice-road truck" doesn't fly!

But.

Truth be told, war is won...not by sexy fighter planes.  Nor by burly bombers.  But by Logistics.  Unsexy. Unburly.  Unexciting logistics.   And for those who aren't familiar with the term, Logistics is basically this:  Hauling stuff to the people that need it.

Patton without fuel?  Lame.

The Mighty 8th Air Force without bullets?  Toothless.

Wal-Mart® without trucks?  Empty.

Have a look at my rough sketch above - it's a Douglas C-47 from the 61st TCG.  TCG stands for Troop Carrier Group.  Or, in other words.  Truckers.  The C-47 was the backbone of Allied logistics efforts in WW2.  People, fuel, bullets, food, mail - chances are very good that any Allied "Point A" was connected to its "Point B" by a C-47, somewhere along the line.

I'd like to introduce y'all to Ken Salisbury - Radio Operator and some-time Crew Chief in an airplane that has hauled more men, machines and materiele longer, farther and more faithfully than ANY Ice Road Trucker.

Right now, I'm overloaded with the task of finding solid reference material on 59th TCS/61st TCG C-47s but Ken's in great shape and we've harnessed the passion of historians around the world to make sure I deliver the goods - an accurate rendering of one of the C-47s Ken flew in combat.

And combat?  Ken was there for it all.  And when I mean all, I mean, ALL.  He's a veritable History Channel!

Don't touch that dial!

Profile 59 - FINAL - "Miss America '44"

Here she is - Miss America ’44!  

I’ll save you the squinting - there are 133 bombs painted on her nose.  Eventually, two more would be added for a career total of 135 combat missions.   To put those figures into perspective, on average, a B-24 was expected to last only 65 missions. 

I wasn’t able to figure out precisely how many different crews took Miss America for her hellish rides but I’ll guess at 10.  A hundred guys, of which Howard Jensen was merely one.

Howard was a Flight Engineer, an on-board doctor, tasked with making sure the engines, electronics, hydraulics and fuel worked the way they were intended.  Or, if you’re a child of the 70s like me, he was “Scotty” on Star Trek.

“Ah’can’t give’ya aneh’more power cahptun!”

But today, Howard is just shy of 90, works out at his gym four-five days a week, treats his wife of 60+ years like a best-buddy (which she is) and remains, at heart, a Flight Engineer. 

Typically, there'd be a story here about Howard as a young man in combat.  But for some reason, the following seems like the the right one to post.  Maybe, maybe not - you decide.

A couple weeks ago, Howard needed a ride some place and circumstances presented themselves that he had a choice of vehicles - a Minivan or (cough cough) a Sports Car.  Now, there’s something about “old people” that seems to bring out the Mother in everyone. In a blink, a team of concerned individuals decided that the best car for “Sweet Howard” was the Minivan. Of course!  Minivans require little (if any) effort and are far easier than anything (cough cough) you know (cough cough)... 

But some smart-ass in the room decided to put the choice to Sweet Old Howard and ask him - “Hey.  What do you want the ride in?”

“A minivan?” Howard smiled politely.  Then he grit his teeth.  “No.”

Gasp.  That would mean he would have sit down low.  And it would be loud.  And he’d need help getting up.  And he might not be able to…

"I want the red car."

We burned rubber in the parking lot.  “I like this.” he said, scanning the gauges,  watching the gears, listening to the engine...later, he told me that he'd spent time researching my car, learning what he could - power curves, compression, reliability... he remains a Flight Engineer, I guess.

I’ve learned a thing about aging.  Time is a powerful refinery - people tend to become more of what they already are.  It surprises me how often I meet someone in their 20’s, 30’s, 40’s and think, “I bet they’ll be a blast at 103!” or, unfortunately, “Poor grandkids.”

Back to Miss America.  Again, the average B-24 lasted about 65 missions.  By then, time, tide and The Nazis were expected to have beaten the old bomber down.  But Miss America not only hit the the goal, she doubled it.

So, that begs the question, “Why?”   According to Howard, Miss America's success was a bit of luck and a lot of conscientious performance on the part of the many different crews.  Something about her inspired her crew to hand her off to the next with the kind of pride that improves the odds for long life.

"I couldn't be a pilot but I still wanted airplanes, so I became a Gunner and a Flight Engineer.  It isn't so much about getting what you want as it is being the best at what you can."

Not having interviewed any other of Miss America’s crews, I can only speculate on their motivations.  But I’ve decided they had to have been a lot like Howard - Men who believed their task was worth doing well regardless of the odds.  

I think it was Ray Mitchell who told me that there were guys who decided to die before they died. Subconsciously at least, and sure enough, it seemed that they did.  And then, there are guys who decide they're going to live before they've lived (make sense?) - like Howard.

“Howard?  You really should ride in the Minivan."

“No.  I'll take the sports car."

Or Miss America.

Oh.  Today we had the public unveiling of Miss America's prints.  That's Howard and me.

Unfinished work - Ken Dahlberg died today.

Ken Dahlberg - entrepreneur, leader and WW2 fighter pilot died today.  He was 95 years of age and ended a life of accomplishment that few people will ever approach.

When I heard the news this morning, my first thought was to hurry up and post the finished work of his P-47 fighter.  But I think I'll wait - there's an ironic lesson to be had.

My experience with the man was momentary.  Years ago, Joe Foss suggested I call him, gave me his phone number...and I made the dial.  Ken and I talked for maybe ten minutes and I made plans to get in touch at a later date.  I never did...until too recently.   My notes are probably half a page and contain nothing of real importance.  My loss - I wasted the opportunity.

Life is linear.  Like a P-47 howling over the earth at 400mph, time consumes distance.  Zoom!

Many people will mourn Ken's death, talk about his accomplishments and be grateful for his example.  But, if I've learned one thing from talking with successful "old people" it's this - at the end of life, they don't talk much about what they haven't done.  Though it's a repackaging of the age-old thought - "Is the glass half full or empty?" - the best of the breed think about what's to come rather than what's been left behind.

And that, of course, only makes sense.  Flying with the past as a reference only leads to crashing.

So, for now, I think I'll keep Ken's "Bolt" up as a work-in-progress for the reminder that life is short and the number of tomorrow's are finite.

Yet, for the opportunities at-hand, I will seize this day and move them forward.

In the lingo of the 352nd FG "Bluenosers,"  Blue Skies, Ken.  We'll catch up to you.


In the meantime, learn more about Ken by clicking here.

Profile 59 - UPDATE - "Miss America" as crewed by Howard Jensen and Ken Tesch

It seems a few people want to put together a little unveiling party for Howard, so I'm going to move quickly to get Miss America to meet the Press (figuratively and practically).

So, the next post should be Miss America's debut.

Profile 59 - UPDATE - "Miss America" as crewed by Howard Jensen and Ken Tesch

Note (10-2-11) - white or yellow Mission Markers?!  THAT is the question!

Posted above is my update to Howard's B-24.  Give me a week and she'll be done.

I learned something new about B-24s that caused a chain reaction that will boggle your brain - regardless if you care about WW2 bombers or not.

It started with learning that "Miss America" was actually a product of The Ford Motor Company.  See that demarcation between the upper "olive drab" color and the light gray on the bomber's bottom?  That's the clue.  The bombers built by Consolidated Aircraft were painted with a straight line. Ford went wavy.

Now, I knew Henry Ford turned America into a manufacturing powerhouse and played a vital role in Allied materiel production in WW2.  But a little research into the matter left me stunned.

Ok.  Clear your head.  It's about to get filled with stuff.

The B-24 remains the most produced strategic bomber in history.  Over 18,000 were built.  Lined up wingtip-to-wingtip, a parade-review would take over SIX HOURS at 60mph!  You'd be sick of B-24s after ten minutes let alone a third of a waking day.

Of those 18,000 B-24s, nearly 8,000 were built by Ford at one manufacturing plant in Willow Run, Michigan.  At peak production, Ford blew 650+ B-24s out the door in a single month!

Now, think of all the aluminum, rubber, fabric, steel, oil, gasoline... that went into the whole lot.  And now, realize that of those 18,000, fewer than 20 complete B-24s exist today.

If you're like me, you wonder, "Where did all of that aluminum, rubber, fabric, steel... go!?"

According to the Law of Conservation of Mass, the total mass of the B-24s still exists.  From frying pans to airborne pollutants, they're all still with us, recycled atom by atom, into the maw of life.

Many of the readers of this blog have a sense of nostalgia for a United States of the past - what's perceived to be a better, sweeter, more productive time.

Thanks to the Ford Motor Company, Miss America is still here.

Somewhere.

Maybe your iPhone?

Photo Source:  "B-24 Research Team" via Bob Livingstone.  Artwork and graphic, me.