Home at last...

...now for the hard part!

During 1966 over the skies of North Vietnam a young F-4 crew was in for the ride of his life. It was only their 10th combat mission ever and things went from bad to worse in a hurry. While escorting a strike from the USS America (CV-66) the F-4B and his wingman were jumped by a quartet of North Vietnamese MiG-21s. As the dogfight ensued both sides fired to no avail but as the last Atoll leapt into the air fate extended its cruel hand. The missile had their wingman's name on it. The young LT JG screamed over the radio for him to break hard right but it was too late. At that moment of launch his radio decided to die and he never heard his squadron mate's frantic radio calls. By the time they saw the missile it was too late. Hit and out of control they pulled their ejection levers and "hit the silk". Their missiles depleted the MiGs didn’t wait around and made haste for home.

The LT JG watched as the two parachutes descended praying they were both alive. After many agonizing minutes his wingman’s voice came over the search and rescue frequency; he was alive but his RIO didn’t make it and the enemy was closing in. Help was on the way but the rescue helos and A-1s were miles away. The young JG had to buy time until they got there. Without any air to ground ordnance to speak of he made pass after pass, low and fast over the enemy soldier’s heads, each time causing them to think three times about advancing, each time absorbing more and more anti-aircraft fire. He knew he couldn’t keep this up forever but his luck held for an agonizing 15 minutes. Finally the enemy gunner’s found their mark. With a sharp, loud thud all of the emergency lights and warning buzzers went off at once in his cockpit. Several rapid button presses and thrown switches later he was down to one engine, his controls were very heavy, and his was leaking fuel like a sieve, but he was still airborne. Fate chose to intervene at that moment as a pair of A-1s roared over the horizon, Napalm tanks detaching as they went. Another pass and 500lb fragmentation and cluster bombs cleared the area. The rescue helos swooped in next and within 5 minutes his wingman was aboard and everyone was on their way home. A final suppression run with their 20mm cannons and the A-1s followed.

The young JG finally allowed himself leave the site only there was one major problem, his fuel tanks were dangerously low. Help was once again on the way though, this time in the form of a lumbering KA-3 Skywarrior tanker. Overhearing the JG's radio calls, the pilot and crew of the tanker disobeyed orders, breaking their 3 mile limit of the coast and proceeded over 50 miles inland to rendezvous with the stricken F-4. Without even a chaff pod, let alone missiles or guns, the flying gas station risked it all to aide his fellow shipmates that day. With the F-4 hooked up, the tanker basically towed them all the way back to their carrier and dropped them off overhead. The leaks were so bad that the JG had one and only one shot at landing his battered bird. With the deck cleared and the emergency barrier rigged, he came down hard and even managed a perfect three wire. Soaked with sweat, he made the sign of the cross and popped the canopies. As they climbed out the KA-3 made a pass low and slow alongside the carrier and waggled his wings. His RIO commented first this time, “Never knew a whale could be an angel.”

This painting was a commission for the pilot of that F-4. Retired now and 45 years older, he’ll never forget the day and the brave tanker crew that saved his life and his RIO’s life.

*All variants of the A-3 Skywarrior were known affectionately as "whales" since they dwarfed just about all other carrier aircraft.*

Watercolor and gouache on 300lbs Arches cold press watercolor paper.

Original Dimensions: 8'x18'