. Many
brave airmen died, some from overstressed aircraft and others on
secret missions.
Posted by Paul
Hunter a SAC KC-97 tanker crewmember 1954-1962.
A
Cold War RB-47E Over-Flight of the USSR
By Colonel Harold (Hal)
Austin, USAF (Ret.)
The hot subject on both sides of the Iron
Curtain in 1954 was Intelligence gathering. The political/military
situation for the time period around May 8, 1954 was that the Cold
War was in full swing and the Korean War was nearing the stalemate
that has lasted for all of these 40 years. We were quite concerned
about the possibility of the Soviets attacking Europe and even the
United States with aircraft overflying Canada. Russia was equally as
concerned about an attack by the United States.
Some of you
will remember that by the 1954-55 time period we had two Strategic
Reconnaissance Wings at Lockbourne AFB, Ohio, where my crew was
stationed, with ninety RB-47E aircraft plus twenty KC-97 tankers.
Also, there were two RB-36 Reconnaissance wings, one at Ellsworth
AFB, SD and one at Fairchild AFB, WA. These were the aircraft
expected to do the “Open Skies” project which President
Eisenhower attempted to negotiate with the Soviet Union. It would
have been very interesting trying to cover the entire Soviet Union
with those 150 or so aircraft! In 1955 President Eisenhower made a
careful evaluation of US policy on disarmament. He invited the other
four major powers of the world to join in an agreement for the
reduction of armaments and on July 21, 1955, at the Geneva Summit
Conference, made his “Open Skies” proposal to ensure peace in the
world through the use of aerial reconnaissance.
Editor' Note:
Received the following info from Paul Hunter, March 6, 2005:
“There
were two tanker units: The 26th
AREFS and the 91st, each with 20 97s. The 26th moved to Westover and
they were replaced by the 376th SRW tanker unit but I don't recall
the ARS number
designator."
--Paul Hunter Member of the 91st AREFs
1954-1962--
During 1951-53, my unit, the 91st Strategic Recon
Wing (SRW), routinely had about eight RB-45C’s and a similar number
of KB-29P tankers deployed on temporary duty to England. In late
1953, we transitioned to the new RB-47E for the same job. During
these years our “official” job was to do uncontrolled photo
mapping work for the US Army over Europe, primarily the Rhine River
basin and later all of Spain, so our maps could be geodetically tied
into Eastern Europe. This was a very important requirement because
ballistic missiles were soon to be deployed to the NATO area.
Our
real mission with RB-45C’s, we found out later, was to occasionally
furnish them to the RAF. (As a matter of interest, a flight of
RB-45C’s, with RAF crews had been over Moscow the night of April
29, 1954, just a few days earlier than our day photographic
mission.)
Electronic Intelligence (ELINT) RB-29’s, RB-50’s
and later RB-47 aircraft, were also doing periphery work around the
Soviet Union, primarily to keep the Soviet Radar Order of Battle up
to date. I believe our overflight on May 8, 1954 was the first with
the RB-47E visual photo aircraft.
On this particular TDY, my
crew, Carl Holt, Co-pilot, and Vance Heavilin, Navigator, and myself,
had been in England about two weeks, when on May 6 we launched a
“feint” of seven RB-47’s toward the USSR’s “Northern
Exposure.” Taking pictures of Spitsbergen Islands, Northwest of
Norway, we were well above 75 degrees north latitude. Although we
didn’t know it at the time, this “feint” was to set up our
mission of the 8th of May. On the 8th of May, the three RB-47E crews
for the mission were briefed separately and apart by two SAC Intel
Colonels. Our particular mission was to penetrate Soviet airspace and
take pictures of nine Soviet airfields to find out for General LeMay
if the “new Migs” (MIG-17’s) were deployed to the area. We were
also looking for deployed Bison Bombers. The other two aircraft were
to proceed with us to a point about 100 miles north of Murmansk and
then return to base.
Our flight of three RB-47s departed RAF
Fairford about 7 AM, refueling with our KC-97’s off Norway as we
had done two days earlier, flying one mile separation using
station-keeping technique (very loose formation) to a point about 100
miles north of Murmansk. The other two aircraft reversed course, as
briefed at that point to return to the UK. Our first Soviet airfield
targets were two large airfields near Murmansk. We coasted in at 12
noon at nearly 40,000 feet over Murmansk and the Nav turned on his
radar cameras and started the three K-17 large area visual photo
cameras. The weather was clear as a bell across the entire Western
part of the continent, perfect for our K-17 and K-38
cameras.
/*****US-FlightRB-47E-ReconnaissanceCrew-SecretFlightsMappingEasternEurope1954.jpg
About
the time we finished photos of the second airfield, we were joined by
a flight of 3 Soviet Migs. I still don’t know whether or not they
were armed, but they stayed a couple hundred yards to half a mile off
our wing, making visual identification, I guess. About 25 minutes
later, a flight of six Migs showed up. I guess this flight confirmed
we were the bad guys, because a few minutes later another two flights
of three, a total of six Migs, arrived behind us, with obvious intent
to try to shoot us down.
By this time, we had covered two more
major airfield targets near Arkhangelsk and were turning to the
Southwest toward our last two targets. We had been over Soviet
territory an hour and were at 40,000 feet. We had been briefed by
Intel that the Mig-15 would not be able to do any damage to us at
40,000 feet with our true air speed on the order of 440 knots.
Well,
you can imagine what we called those Intelligence weenies as the
first Soviet Mig-17, not Mig-15, made a firing pass on us from the
left rear, and we saw cannon tracer shells going both above and below
our aircraft. And, the Mig was still moving out rather smartly as he
passed under us in front. So enough of this 40,000 feet stuff, I
pushed the RB-47 over, descending a couple of thousand feet picking
up about 20 knots indicated airspeed in the process. The second
Mig-17 made his firing pass and I don’t care who knows, it was
scary watching tracers go over and under our aircraft. This guy had
almost come up our tailpipes. Fortunately, when the third Mig started
his pursuit pass, our guns burped for a couple of seconds. General
LeMay did not believe in tracers for our guns, but the Soviet pilots
must have seen something because the third guy broke off his pass and
the flight of six, and the next flight which joined us later, stayed
out about 30 to 40 degrees to side, out of the effective envelope of
our guns. Of course, the Migs didn’t know that our guns would not
fire again, even though the Co-pilot pleaded, and I believe he did,
at least, kick the panel trying to get them to work.
The
fourth Mig of this flight made a firing pass and made a lucky hit
through the top of our left wing, about 8 feet from the fuselage
through the wing flap. It exploded into the fuselage in the area of
the #1 main tank and knocked out our intercom. We felt a good whap
and all three of us were a little bit anxious (scared) but doing our
mission as briefed, basically because of habit. I firmly believe
that’s what good, tough, LeMay-type, SAC training did for his
combat crews. Later we also found out, it hit our UHF radio in a way
that it would not channelize but was stuck on channel 13, our command
post common.
By now we had covered our last photo target
and had turned due west toward Finland to get the hell out of there.
That flight of six ran out of range I guess and, we were near the
Finland border. Real soon another three Migs showed up. Two Migs of
this flight made individual firing passes but our added speed
obviously made it a bit tougher or I am pretty sure I would not be
here writing about this mission today. After those two made passes,
on of the Migs came up on our right side, close enough to shake hands
and sat there for two or three minutes. Two more Migs tried firing
passes, but without hitting us, by this time we were well out of
Soviet territory. At the debriefing in Omaha, General LeMay asked,
?Why were you not shot down?? My answer was that there was no doubt
in my mind the Mig-17 pilots could have shot us down, if they had
been willing to come right up our tailpipes! He made a statement that
he was “convinced that most fighter pilots are basically cowards
anyway.” General LeMay also said, “There are probably several
openings today in command positions there, since you were not shot
down.”
Our excitement for this mission was not over. An
airborne stand-by KC-97 tanker was holding for us about 50 miles from
Stavanger, Norway. We really weren’t sure how the damage to our
left wing and fuselage would effect fuel consumption. Initially it
didn’t look that bad. As we came into radio range of our airborne
tanker I heard him calling (garbled) in the blind on command post
common, the only working part of our UHF radio. We were running about
30 minutes behind schedule; I heard the tanker state he was leaving
the orbit area at the appointed time. I tried to acknowledge his call
but he later said he never heard me transmit anything. Of course they
had not been briefed on our mission, but were aware that three B-47’s
went through refueling areas that morning and only two had
returned.
As we coasted out off Norway, it was obvious
we had fallen behind the fuel curve. We climbed to 43,000 feet and
throttled back to max-range cruise. It did appear however, that we
could get to a base in England and we knew there was a strip alert
tanker at Mildenhall awaiting our call. My co-Pilot had spent much of
the time since the last Migs departed sitting in the aisle acting as
the intercom between me and NAV. You just don’t realize how handy
the intercom is until you don’t have one in a tandem
airplane.
Holt was beginning to panic on the fuel as we
reached a point about 150 miles from the Wash. He said all this
effort was for naught if we have to bail out of the airplane, and
left no film for intelligence to process that would prove where we
had been. Within about 100 miles of the Wash, I started calling for
the stirp alert tanker to launch. Jim Rigley, the tanker pilot, said
he heard a word or two, enough to recognize my voice (these were our
tanker guys, so we all knew each other.) Anyway, he attempted to get
permission to launch. Well, as it sometimes goes, the RAF had an
emergency working. Rigley announced that he was launching anyway and
did. When he returned to base, the Base Commander threatened him with
a court martial and British Air Traffic Control gave him a violation,
both situations were later “fixed” by General LeMay.
In
all of my nine years of flying up to that time, I was never more
thrilled to see another airplane in the air than I was to see that
beautiful KC-97 that day. I saw Rigley’s airplane and headed for
it. We had already decided to land if need be at Brize Norton, and
were letting down to do just that. Holt said, “We’re going to run
out of gas.” Rigley had his guys looking up for us and caught a
glimpse of what they thought was our airplane and leveled off at
3,000 feet heading south. I circled once letting down. As we
maneuvered and pulled into contact position, Holt said, “We are
taking on fuel.” He swears to this day, all tank gauges showed
empty when we made contact. I told Holt to tell me when we had 12,000
pounds of fuel. When he said NOW, I punched the boom loose, gave the
Boom Operator a salute and headed for Fairford. We buzzed the tower
and as we came around they gave us a green light to land.
When
we reached the ramp and parked, the crewchief was first up the
ladder, “What the hell kind of seagull did you hit?”
Because
of the “need to know” classification, my crew was never allowed
to see the pictures we took that day, but General LeMay said they
were really good.
