Major Wesley Clinton
B-52 Aircraft Commander
We were inbound to Old North Vietnam at FL300.
Our armament consisted of 51 bombs total with 27 internal and 24 external. The bomber was heavy and responded poorly.
The weather was garbage. A line of storm left over from the freak typhoon were lying just of the coast. We had to plow right through it to get to the target. We lost sight of one and two, forcing us to maintain the formation with radar. The extra bombs on the wing pylons caused us a lot of drag making things just that much more work. The gunner and navigator both got air sick.
We hadn’t even gotten to the hard part yet.
It took two air refuelings due to the extra drag, the external bombs again, to get us to the coast. After the second one we put on our survival vests and side arms on. Our flak vests we positioned around the floor of the cockpit hoping that if a bullet does get through they would give us some protection.
The blue blur below us became green and brown. We were in country. We started running the checklists and things began to happen. We went on Night Vision Goggles which are sensitive to anything except green light so we had to turn off all the red lights and tape over the ones we can’t with electrical tape. This left the instrument panel dark so we taped up green chemical light sticks for illumination. We also turned off all of our external lights so that no one can see us coming.
It’s not stealth, but it’s as close as the B-52 will get.
"Get ready to go low." I told everyone over the interphone.
We descended down to a couple hundred feet. Already we started seeing anti-aircraft fire from the ground. We witnessed everything from random small arms fire up to the big 57mm stuff. The crew was getting excited and the copilot and I tell them it is all random fire.
It’s a lie.
I can't really tell if it is or not. There is no reason to get worked up over it. None of it seemed to be coming near us.
Yet.
The formation broke up. Each aircraft took separate routes to the target, attacking it from three different directions with sixty seconds in between strikes.
This whole plan was scary as hell because we’ve only practiced it once. The planners wanted forty five seconds between aircraft, but none of us were comfortable with that. Even with sixty second spacing the timing had to be perfect. If not we were going to run into each other or fly into another bomber’s bomb run.
One and two were carrying British made 1000 pound bombs. Once dispersed those bombs dig a hole into the ground and then explode cratering the runway. Our aircraft was carrying mines carried inside cluster bombs. They would make it difficult for the Vietnamese to repair the airfield.
The good thing for us was that we got to be the first to strike the target. The bad thing is that, unlike the other two bombers, we had to pop up to 1000 feet for cluster bomb release. This made us much more exposed. With bombing runs it is better to be really high or really low. I always liked really high the best.
We were running checklists when the EWO claimed he’s picked up SAM search radar.
Great.
A scary thirty seconds go by. The SAM never locks on to us. I doubt he even knew we were there. Their radar wasn't worth much down low. Plus there are F-15s in the general area so maybe they’ll fire on them instead if the SAM decided to pop up. The anti-aircraft guns worry me more, but so far nothing is coming anywhere close to us.
We hit the initial point and the navigator took over. He was flying the airplane from that point for all intents and purposes. The pilot would only manipulate the controls. I was flying airspeeds and making course adjustments according to his inputs. We backed him up in the cockpit with the Course Deviation Indicator which we tried to keep centered.
“60 seconds.” The navigator called out over the intercom.
The bomb
B-52 Aircraft Commander
We were inbound to Old North Vietnam at FL300.
Our armament consisted of 51 bombs total with 27 internal and 24 external. The bomber was heavy and responded poorly.
The weather was garbage. A line of storm left over from the freak typhoon were lying just of the coast. We had to plow right through it to get to the target. We lost sight of one and two, forcing us to maintain the formation with radar. The extra bombs on the wing pylons caused us a lot of drag making things just that much more work. The gunner and navigator both got air sick.
We hadn’t even gotten to the hard part yet.
It took two air refuelings due to the extra drag, the external bombs again, to get us to the coast. After the second one we put on our survival vests and side arms on. Our flak vests we positioned around the floor of the cockpit hoping that if a bullet does get through they would give us some protection.
The blue blur below us became green and brown. We were in country. We started running the checklists and things began to happen. We went on Night Vision Goggles which are sensitive to anything except green light so we had to turn off all the red lights and tape over the ones we can’t with electrical tape. This left the instrument panel dark so we taped up green chemical light sticks for illumination. We also turned off all of our external lights so that no one can see us coming.
It’s not stealth, but it’s as close as the B-52 will get.
"Get ready to go low." I told everyone over the interphone.
We descended down to a couple hundred feet. Already we started seeing anti-aircraft fire from the ground. We witnessed everything from random small arms fire up to the big 57mm stuff. The crew was getting excited and the copilot and I tell them it is all random fire.
It’s a lie.
I can't really tell if it is or not. There is no reason to get worked up over it. None of it seemed to be coming near us.
Yet.
The formation broke up. Each aircraft took separate routes to the target, attacking it from three different directions with sixty seconds in between strikes.
This whole plan was scary as hell because we’ve only practiced it once. The planners wanted forty five seconds between aircraft, but none of us were comfortable with that. Even with sixty second spacing the timing had to be perfect. If not we were going to run into each other or fly into another bomber’s bomb run.
One and two were carrying British made 1000 pound bombs. Once dispersed those bombs dig a hole into the ground and then explode cratering the runway. Our aircraft was carrying mines carried inside cluster bombs. They would make it difficult for the Vietnamese to repair the airfield.
The good thing for us was that we got to be the first to strike the target. The bad thing is that, unlike the other two bombers, we had to pop up to 1000 feet for cluster bomb release. This made us much more exposed. With bombing runs it is better to be really high or really low. I always liked really high the best.
We were running checklists when the EWO claimed he’s picked up SAM search radar.
Great.
A scary thirty seconds go by. The SAM never locks on to us. I doubt he even knew we were there. Their radar wasn't worth much down low. Plus there are F-15s in the general area so maybe they’ll fire on them instead if the SAM decided to pop up. The anti-aircraft guns worry me more, but so far nothing is coming anywhere close to us.
We hit the initial point and the navigator took over. He was flying the airplane from that point for all intents and purposes. The pilot would only manipulate the controls. I was flying airspeeds and making course adjustments according to his inputs. We backed him up in the cockpit with the Course Deviation Indicator which we tried to keep centered.
“60 seconds.” The navigator called out over the intercom.
The bomb
Similar Books
