Flagon_15 wrote:I might ask a stupid question, but if your father is on top of his F-100, what happened to the plane? Was it brought down while your father ejected, did it fly back to base on a limp, or was your father a mechanic caring for a F-100 some pilot F'd up?
My father was just a mechanic, but he had his war stories. I only heard the story a few times, but it goes like this...
my father was an "engine specialist". He would only work on the engines of these respective aircraft for the most part. He was deep into engine work on base for 10 hours, trying to work out an issue as aircraft had to be airworthy the next morning for sorties. When he went into the break area on base to have a coffee, sappers inflitrated the base. If you don't know what a sapper was, it was typically a Vietcong suicide bomber that would throw detonation devices or detonate devices attached to themselves to destroy aircraft, facilities, or personnel. While my father was away on the base, sappers ran in and blew up several aircraft including the aircraft he was working on. Because of this they thought it was a great idea to take a photo of my father on top of the aircraft.
Now, I have known many many people in the military who are liars (for some reason the Navy guys are "off the hook" or as some would say "shit talkers". Its possible, I suppose, for my father to be embelishing the story. But I swear to god, that I have never ever seen my father tell a lie during his entire life. I have criticisms of my father but dishonesty was never one of them. My father's greatest hero was Dylan as he saw him as an the most honest person of his time. I believe the story 100%. Lastly, my father did also tell me of missions where they were occasionally taken by helicopter to try to retrieve parts from downed aircraft in safe zones. I seem to remember a picture of my father retrieving parts from a downed B52 but that is all I have, no further facts.
It is interesting that my father only told his stories a few times but I wasn't too interested at the time. His brother, my uncle Mike, had signed up for three tours as a helicopter pilot and ended up crashing three times (once he was shot down and twice he crashed). My uncle's stories were much more interesting and my father didn't care to share his too much anyway. (Uncle Mike had great stories of refurbishing heli skids into grenade delivery devices as well as telling how one of his crashes was from a rotorstrike in a crater. Uncle Mike ended up working for the FAA in Dallas and is well known to the aviation community there, he passed away two years ago and my father Sept 1st.
"Give us a kiss, big tits."
