Scott Carpenter's Guest Essay #8
Of the original seven astronauts, four were veterans of the Korean War: Scott Carpenter (Patrol Squadron 6), John Glenn (Marine Attack Squadron 311), Gus Grissom, (4th Fighter Interceptor Wing), and Wally Schirra (an exchange pilot on loan to 136th Bomber Wing and the 154th Fighter Bomber Squadron). The following excerpt from The Hunters (a novel by James Salter that was later made into a movie starring Robert Mitchum) is offered in honor of this Veterans Day, especially those who served in Korea.
From the preface to the 1997 edition of The Hunters
by James Salter
. . . . The geography of Korea and the sort of fighting that took place there were then familiar matters. Jet fighters were newly operational and the first combat between them occurred when pilots and planes from the Soviet Union were sent to support the communist armies of China and North Korea. They were opposed mainly by United States jets.
The Russian planes were swept-wing MIG-15s, well-designed and armed with rapid-firing cannon. There were many of them, flying out of airfields in China that for political reasons were never bombed. They were opposed by a smaller number of F-86s, a roughly equivalent aircraft, at the time the best in the U.S. Air Force.
The F-86 could not fly quite as high—to about 45,000 as against 48,000 feet—and its performance at high altitude was not as good, but lower down it was slightly superior. It carried machine guns with enough ammunition for—to give an idea of the brevity of aerial engagements—only eleven seconds of firing, but a burst of two or three seconds in a fight could be quite sufficient. There were no missiles in those days; these came a few years later.
The basic combat formation was two planes and was called an element; leader and wingman, meant to be inseparable. The wingman, usually a little less experienced, was a kind of bodyguard. His duties were nothing less than sacred: to serve as a lookout, especially when the leader was engaged with the enemy and, if needed, to support him with fire. Wingmen who had lost their leaders and vice versa were to immediately withdraw from the combat area.
A flight was made up of two elements and was the normal minimum force, although in a fight it often could not remain intact and broke into elements of two planes each. A squadron mission might involve three or four flights.
The chief defensive maneuver was a hard turn, the hardest possible, called a break, to keep another plane from getting into firing position behind. “Break right” or “Break left” was the urgent call when enemy fighters were closing in. Fighters don’t fight, as Saint-Exupery wrote, they murder, and the act was usually done by getting on the tail of the other plane, as close as possible, even point blank, and firing.
Aces are pilots who have downed five airplanes. They are champions. There were thirty-nine American aces during the Korean War. Their immortality was not as great as believed. At least one was himself shot down, at least five of them to my knowledge.
A small red star painted on the side of a pilot’s plane, just below the cockpit, was the symbol of a kill. Discreet, almost invisible in the air, a row of five was a mark of highest honor, greater than any trophy or prize.
It was said of Lord Byron that he was more proud of his Norman ancestors who had accompanied William the Conqueror in the invasion of England than of having written famed works. The name de Burun, not yet Anglicized, was inscribed in the Domesday Book. Looking back, I feel pride akin to that in having flown and fought along the Yalu.