| Date: 21 April 1968 |
| Aircraft type: F-4D Phantom |
| Serial Number: 66-7600 |
| Military Unit: 480 TFS, 366 TFW |
| Service: USAF |
| Home Base: Da Nang |
| Name(s): |
| Maj C R Webster (Survived) |
| 1Lt William Cary Vasser, Jr. (Survived) |
| Original text:
As dusk fell another Da Nang Phantom was shot down, this one over North Vietnam. Maj Webster was bombing a target near Mai Xa Ha, 15 miles southeast of Dong Hoi when the aircraft (call sign Gunfighter) was damaged by ground fire. Maj Webster flew the aircraft well out to sea and he and his WSO ejected about 35 miles off the coast near the DMZ. They were both rescued by a Navy SAR helicopter. The following account of the event was submitted by Bill Vasser, the WSO, on this mission. He describes himself as a GIB (Guy in Back). He says, "We operated the weapons systems of the F-4. I flew 101 missions in north Vietnam and 110 missions in south Vietnam. "I want to thank the guys of the USS Cleveland for Maj Bob Webster and my rescue. We were the first crew that got rescued (out of a string of six aircraft shot down and crews lost out of Da Nang). Your rescue of us was a big morale booster for our 366th Tac Fighter Wing and our 480 Tac Fighter Squadron since we had lost the previous five crews. One crewmember was known to be a POW. During my 10-month tour, we lost 12 aircraft and six crew (12 people) out of our 24 aircraft squadron, so your rescue of us was in fact a very significant event in our lives. Ya’ll were my HEROES cause we could have wound up as shark bait, captured, or shot from the shore. "As I mentioned earlier, we back seat pilots were known as the GIB, among other names. We operated the weapons systems, ground radar for navigation, radios, and Air to Air Radar for Aircraft lock-on for missile shot. We got to say only a few things, like Nice Landing, I’ll buy the first round, I’ll take the fat one. "This story is of one mission, with Maj Webster, a new guy (referred to as a FNG) on his third mission, and me getting shot down. I really don’t consider this a War Story. It is more a “5-beers-later-'I got one better than that'-hanging-on-the-bar” story where the best story gets the free beer. "I had volunteered to sit day alert as Gunfighter 02 on April 21, 1968. I wanted to ensure I would have the evening off to go to my Texas A&M Muster at the Da Nang Air Base Officer’s (Da Nang Officers Open Mess or DOOM) Club. If we were lucky, we would get scrambled early in the afternoon and get off early. "I was crewed up for this mission with a new AC, Maj Bob Webster, (previously, an F-106 jock) on his third mission, an FNG, since I had 50 Total missions at this time. "We were scrambled to knock out a 37 MM gun site that had set up on a small mountain peak near Khe Sanh and was firing at the C-130's flying resupply missions into Khe Sanh. "Several other flights had taken their turn at this site but no luck and an A-4 had been hit earlier that day. We took our turn dropping our bombs with marginal success. We dropped our bombs all around the peak and the gun shot a few rounds at us. It would take a direct hit to get him, sitting on top of that peak, and I did not see us score a direct hit, although we may have. At least he had stopped shooting when we left. "Since we still had our 2000 rounds of 20 Mike Mike ammo, Gunfighter 01, our lead, checked in with CROWN, ABCCC, looking for a target in North Vietnam PAC 1 so we could get a “counter” toward our 100 North missions. They said they did not have any target for a gun. Just then an F-105 pilot came up on the radio and said he had just chased some trucks down HWY 1 (the road that ran North-South just east of the mountain range) to a truck park site North of the DMZ about 30 miles and 10 miles East of Bat Lake, in Pack 1, North Vietnam. So off we went. "Lead found the suspected truck park and rolled in from 13,000 ft for his gun pass. We rolled in from 13,000 feet in our 45 degree dive and start downhill at 450 KNOTS. I heard the Grrrrrrr of our 20 mm Gatling gun spitting out its 100 rounds a second. As I was watching our 20 mm red tracers go down, I see all sorts of big red 37 mm fireballs and a bunch of 50 cal white tracers coming up. It was like being in the middle of a 4th of July fireworks display. As we were bottoming out at about 1000 ft, I heard that sickening sound of tin foil crunching and tearing, beer cans being crushed and bouncing off walls, the screeching of pigs as metal turbine blades grinding and scraping against something they shouldn’t as that J-79 engine was throwing pieces everywhere because a couple 37 mm rounds found us. We took one right close to me in the left air intake (I could see pieces of the shrapnel sticking out of the top of the intake) and another one in the left wing knocking the left landing gear down. "I think we took another hit from a 50 Cal but not sure. Anyway, two 37 mm rounds were enough to ruin our day. Since we were in a hard pull off right when we actually got hit, Maj Webster kept turning, going through North, so there was no way we could turn back to the West and the safety of a mountain bailout with our damage. That would mean turning into our left dead engine and damaged left wing. I hated to see the nice safe Mountains disappear behind us. I looked quickly to the East to the Gulf, and, as far as the eye could see, there was nothing but sand and rice paddies ahead of us. "Lead called us and said, “You’re burning from the intakes back.” Fortunately, no one else bothered to shoot at us, even though we were really low, about 2,000 feet, slow (at 250 knots) and streaming a big smoke trail, as our dying Phantom struggled to stay flying and get us to the ocean on one engine in full afterburner with our left main gear dangling in the breeze. Maj Webster and I went over the standards of what was wrong, #1 engine on fire and shutting it down, #1 flight control hydraulics at zero. Utility hydraulics slowly going down. #2 flight control hydraulics look OK. Lots of warning lights, probably 30 of the 50 lights, and now my radar died. Major Webster asked if I thought we should bail out over the rice paddies. I told him no because they would kill us when we hit the ground. "Lead called out MAYDAY to get rescue choppers scrambling and other fighters with ordnance heading in our direction. I was doubtful we would make it to the water, but our wounded Phantom just kept lumbering along. Major Webster was doing an excellent job keeping it airborne with all the things wrong and dragging all our external stores. Later he told me it was really tough keeping it level. Not much I could do but give encouragement and suggestions and keep a sharp eye out for someone else to start shooting at us. Even if someone did shoot at us, there was no way we could have dodged any gunfire. After the initial hit and sorting out what was wrong, we just casually talked about the aircraft status and how it was flying. "Maj Webster had been maintaining 250 knots and in a steady climb so we were up to about 7,000 feet when we finally hit the coast. Just as we crossed the coast, we lost all electrical power and my ability to talk to Major Webster. Not knowing if he would be able to signal me to eject or just eject me, I had to sit in a ready position. "There is a hot wired “EJECT" light in the back seat in case you lose all electrical power and have no way to communicate. We did have hand signals, which are hard to see even if the GIB is looking around the front seater’s ejection seat at the time there is a hand signal. Bottom line, you only get a couple of seconds to see that hand signal or eject light, and you are gone, one way or another. "We had gotten up to 15,000 feet and were still trucking along at 250 knots. Shortly, we spotted a group of five Navy ships in a circle. I thought that was weird at the moment. "Just then, I felt the airplane start to wobble and dip a wing slightly. At first I thought he was going to circle the ships for us to bail out. Instead, I learned later that the last hydraulic system had lost the last of its pressure, and Maj Webster had actually lost control. He hit the EJECT button for bail out as the aircraft started to roll. I was looking around at the Navy ships when I saw the EJECT light come on and just reacted instantly without even thinking. I reached for the “D” ring ejection seat handle located between my legs and pulled. The rocket fired, catapulting me up the rail, and the F4 just seemed to disappear below me like a roller coaster in reverse. There was a lot of wind noise, and I was being bounced around in the seat a little. The next thing I remember seeing is I was looking down at that circle of Navy ships between my knees as I was sitting in the ejection seat. I sat in the seat for what seemed like minutes as I descended from 16,000 feet to about 10,000 feet. All of a sudden, I heard things whirling and hissing and clicking as the seat belts and my attachments to the seat were cut and I was kicked out of the seat. Then I felt the jerk as the main chute opened and I there I was, just hanging there. I started to think that was pretty neat, but I wouldn’t want to do it again. I checked my chute and made the four-line cut so it would have some forward motion and some small ability to steer it. and then I just hung around, looking at the ships. "I noticed that I was heading for one ship in particular, which turned out to be the USS Cleveland. Our chutes were not really steerable, but I discovered I could twist and pull the straps and get it pointed in a different direction. The four-line cut would cause the chute to head in the direction you are facing. I managed to turn the chute so I was drifting down parallel with the ship's course about 100 yards off the left side. Meanwhile, I watched all the sailors taking pictures of me, and I waved. I almost forgot to deploy my water wings and dingy in the last minute excitement. I drifted across the bow of the ship at deck height. "I hit the water just in front of the USS Cleveland thinking it would be a hell of a note if they ran over me. As I bobbed to the surface, an LSD landing craft pulled up next to me, and there was a helo above me. "When I looked at the helo pilot, it looked like he didn’t have any clothes on. (He was sun bathing when he got scrambled.) I waved off the helo since the LSD seemed a better option. I then climbed into my one-man life raft and sat there. As the LSD pulled up next to me, I tried to figure out how I was going to get up the 7-foot side of this landing craft. About this time, a sailor that looks like Mighty Mouse came over the side. He was holding on to the side of the landing craft rail with one arm. I struggled to stand up in my raft and grab his extended arm. With that one arm he lifted me, soaking wet with all my gear on, out of the water and threw me on the deck above us. I was impressed! I must have weighed well over 200 pounds with all my gear, and he just put me up on deck like a sack of potatoes with nothing but sheer muscle, while hanging from one arm on a railing. "I looked around, and there were three guys there and a very large cake in the middle, along with a barrel full of beer. I thought it rather strange that the boat that picked me up had a huge cake and all this beer on it, as if they knew I was coming. It turns out that they had picked up a birthday cake from the USS Iwo Jima for the USS Cleveland’s first commissioning anniversary. They asked if I would like a beer or two from the barrel they had on board. I said, “Well, don’t mind if I do.” It seems that they could have beer on the small LSDs but not on the ship. What a way to get rescued and “crash” their ship’s party. "Another LSD picked up Maj Webster. They deployed two swimmers and dragged him back on board. We pulled into the back of the USS Cleveland together. I want to thank the guys of the USS Cleveland on behalf of Maj Bob Webster (a resident of Cleveland, Ohio) for our rescue. "That night, I got to eat at the Captain’s Table. Major Webster was still too shook up. After dinner, I met up with a bunch of Marine chopper pilots on board and swapped stories. Man, those guys are crazy. "The next day, my AC and I got heloed back to Da Nang AB. "When I rounded up my Aggie buddies back at Da Nang the next day because I wanted my $5.00 back for our Muster dinner. They told me my excuse for missing Muster was not good enough because I did make it back, and they knew I would have wanted them to drink up the $5 celebrating my rescue. "A couple of days later, I was back on the flying schedule, even though I had sustained some cracked vertebrae and a compressed disk from the ejection but felt fine. "Some more information on the event from the ship's side of the rescue: This day was the first anniversary of the USS Cleveland, and this was her maiden voyage/combat tour. She had been on station since November for her 9-month tour. The ship was having a “down day” to celebrate the event. They were having a huge steak fry on the stern of the ship. Most of the crew were on deck taking it easy. They had several of their small LSDs in the water. They are not allowed to drink beer on a Navy ship so they put the beer on the small LSD craft and would take several crew members at a time on a “fishing brew” tour around the ship. As a result, they had all of their small boats in the water and were able to pick us up with very little problem. "They were able to see our aircraft smoke trail and watched it crash into the sea. Comments from crew members included, 'Hey that is really cool.' After watching the smoke trail and crash, they were able to see our parachutes and thought it was a neat air show being put on for them. Since I almost hit the ship, they all got a good look at the event. "Our rescue was the most significant event for that crew and is remembered well. The event of a lifetime. Several of the people’s hometown newspapers related the story that so and so from the ship were heroes that had 'personally' rescued us. They got a big kick out of that. One guy was asleep through the whole thing, but he 'rescued us' according to his hometown newspaper." |
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