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Kitchen Table Kibitzing, Nov. 11, 2022: Sharing Memories of Veterans in our Lives [1]
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Date: 2022-11-11
My dad served in WWII in the Army Air Corps. He was the co-pilot of a B-24 flying missions out of Italy over Germany. He loved flying so much that, after the war, he enlisted in the Air Force and served twenty six years as a combat pilot. He got to fly F-86s in Korea but what I remember were the KC-97s he flew in the Cold War.
I am posting the text of an email my dad wrote to a friend to cheer and distract him while he was in the hospital. It’s a Korean War memory — and a funny story at that. I’ve posted it before but today it seems appropriate to share it again.
This story takes place in Korea, where as a beady eyed MiG killer, scourge of the northern skies, I plied my trade.
It was a given that if you were so stupid, or unfortunate enough to get your tail feathers full of 23 mil, you headed for the Yellow Sea. We controlled the Korean shore, had choppers and patrol boats available for anyone unfortunate enough to bail out over the water. There was a down side, of course. The water was extremely cold all year round and as you know, survival time in such conditions is very limited.
When the Air Force became aware of the situation, they had Wright Patterson come up with a solution, namely the Mark IV immersion suit. The suit came in two parts. The inner part was a satin, down-filled, quilted one-piece unit – sort of like long johns. The outer part was of a rubberized material, very tough and waterproof. Thermal boots were glued to the legs – and of course also waterproof. The cuffs and neck piece were rubber, quite tight, and once again water tight.
To get into the suit was a real trick. A zipper ran from the left shoulder to the right hip. When unzipped, a thin black waterproofed tube about thirty inches in diameter unrolled as the means of access. Once you had the inner suit and “G” suit on, you stepped through the tube, got your feet in the boots and prepared for the real struggle. You had to duck down the tube, get your arms in the sleeves and out through the watertight cuffs and then get your head up and through the watertight neck. Since most people’s heads are larger than their necks, this could be a real struggle. Breathing could be a problem, too, if you think about it.
When the suits arrived they had to be fitted to the individual and the boots had to be glued to the legs. Once this was done, you were ready to float around in water with ice cubes.
Houston Tuel, the flight leader and I decided that we would wear our suits on the next mission. So early the next day, we headed for briefing and then to the Personal Equipment Quonset to don our new suits. We got our suits on finally, with little time to spare. Then of course, we collected side arms, knife, Mae West, dingy stabber, and finally a ‘chute complete with E&E kit, and dingy. All of our equipment ran to about eighty pounds.
It was at this time that I realized something was wrong. My boots were on the wrong legs. The right boot was firmly glued to the left leg, and the left boot to the right leg. Since I only had about ten minutes to engine start, I had to hump it out to the plane, pre-flight it, and haul everything on board.
Our ‘chutes were sort of interesting. We had a tight harness but the ‘chute itself was hanging loose by at least six inches. Once we were in the seat, the ‘chute was propped up on a piece of 4x4. This gave us the ability to turn in the cockpit and look back without having to lug the ‘chute around. But it also meant that as you tried to run the ‘chute would bang you you know where.
I made start time but my pre-flight was just making sure I had the right plane. After takeoff it was all I could do to keep my eyes off my boots, toes pointing out, and wonder what I was going to do if I had to roll back my seat and start walking. I could just picture some North Korean tracker following my foot prints and wondering if I had to relieve myself – or was this some new trick to try and fool him. It was really hard to concentrate on trying to shoot down MiGs while looking at my outward turned toes. Fortunately, no MiGs were up that day so I didn’t have to face the problem of chasing them while looking at my toes.
Like all missions, this one finally ended. I dragged myself in the PE shack where I proceeded to have a long one-sided conversation with the Sgt. Everyone else thought it was hilarious, and I guess I do, too, from the distance of fifty years. But at the moment…
Get well soon and keep in touch,
Bob R
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