Re:Modern submarine torpedo attacks are not like in the movies
by umvi on Tuesday April 14, 2020 @09:33PM
(#22873542)
My grandfather flew F-86s in Korea, and his experience was similar - the MiGs always ran most of the time. From his personal history:
"In September 1952, I was made an instructor pilot in the F-86 and, in early November, I was made a flight commander and an engineering test pilot. It was also in November that we had one of our most frustrating experiences while I was at Kimpo. One day we were called into a hush hush briefing and told that the State Department had cleared us for a one time crossing of the Yalu River—and, as I remember, the only restriction placed on us was that we could not attack any aircraft on the ground, and that may have been because most of those people were not proficient in air-to-ground operations, I don’t know. Anyway, we anticipated some real aerial combat for a change since we would be able to catch the Migs with no place to run to—it sounded like the mission of a lifetime!! Imagine our disappointment, then, at going up to the Yalu River and not finding a single Mig anywhere—we went right on across the river into China and circled the big airfield complex at Antung and, looking down, there wasn’t a single aircraft anywhere on any of those three airfields! Apparently, the State Department had given the Chinese the same information they had given us and all the aircraft had been moved north to Mukden, Manchuria.
Well, as luck would have it, from our position at 40,000’, I spotted a single aircraft, on final approach to one of the Antung airfields, about a mile and a half from the end of the runway, one of the 10% that never gets the word, I guess. I really felt frustrated about the entire situation and was desperate to get a shot at one of those guys in their own back yard—I called the bogie out to #3 and said I was going after him. Number 3 called back and bet me a milk shake (to be repaid in the States) that I’d never reach him before he touched down, and then, of course, he was home free. I rolled over into a split-s maneuver, left full power on and was shortly exceeding Mach 1 (the speed of sound)—I completed one 360 degree diving turn and came out the bottom of that dive at about 1300 feet. I was really moving, and I just had time to rapidly reverse the bank, acquire the Mig in the gunsight and squeeze off a quick burst—he was about six feet in the air over the end of the runway at that time and that burst of gunfire caught him squarely in the center of the fuselage, lighting it up like a Christmas tree. I just saw his aircraft slam into the ground and go careening off the runway and then I shot past him and had to direct my attention elsewhere. I whistled past the control tower and under a bunch of electric wires, and all the time I could hear automatic weapons firing so I must have been very close to them. An aircraft going directly away from enemy guns is an easy shot so I stayed on the deck (close to the ground) for a couple of miles and then made a steep climb out. Maybe getting that guy was a dumb thing to do but it sure was satisfying!"
"In September 1952, I was made an instructor pilot in the F-86 and, in early November, I was made a flight commander and an engineering test pilot. It was also in November that we had one of our most frustrating experiences while I was at Kimpo. One day we were called into a hush hush briefing and told that the State Department had cleared us for a one time crossing of the Yalu River—and, as I remember, the only restriction placed on us was that we could not attack any aircraft on the ground, and that may have been because most of those people were not proficient in air-to-ground operations, I don’t know. Anyway, we anticipated some real aerial combat for a change since we would be able to catch the Migs with no place to run to—it sounded like the mission of a lifetime!! Imagine our disappointment, then, at going up to the Yalu River and not finding a single Mig anywhere—we went right on across the river into China and circled the big airfield complex at Antung and, looking down, there wasn’t a single aircraft anywhere on any of those three airfields! Apparently, the State Department had given the Chinese the same information they had given us and all the aircraft had been moved north to Mukden, Manchuria.
Well, as luck would have it, from our position at 40,000’, I spotted a single aircraft, on final approach to one of the Antung airfields, about a mile and a half from the end of the runway, one of the 10% that never gets the word, I guess. I really felt frustrated about the entire situation and was desperate to get a shot at one of those guys in their own back yard—I called the bogie out to #3 and said I was going after him. Number 3 called back and bet me a milk shake (to be repaid in the States) that I’d never reach him before he touched down, and then, of course, he was home free. I rolled over into a split-s maneuver, left full power on and was shortly exceeding Mach 1 (the speed of sound)—I completed one 360 degree diving turn and came out the bottom of that dive at about 1300 feet. I was really moving, and I just had time to rapidly reverse the bank, acquire the Mig in the gunsight and squeeze off a quick burst—he was about six feet in the air over the end of the runway at that time and that burst of gunfire caught him squarely in the center of the fuselage, lighting it up like a Christmas tree. I just saw his aircraft slam into the ground and go careening off the runway and then I shot past him and had to direct my attention elsewhere. I whistled past the control tower and under a bunch of electric wires, and all the time I could hear automatic weapons firing so I must have been very close to them. An aircraft going directly away from enemy guns is an easy shot so I stayed on the deck (close to the ground) for a couple of miles and then made a steep climb out. Maybe getting that guy was a dumb thing to do but it sure was satisfying!"