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Combat Over Korea
Combat Over Korea
Combat Over Korea
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Combat Over Korea

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This volume chronicles aerial combat of the Korean War through both historical narrative and the personal accounts of Allied airmen and POWs.

In Combat Over Korea, military historian Philip D. Chinnery offers a vivid account of aerial warfare above the forbidding terrain of the Korean peninsula. The firsthand accounts presented here run the gamut from air combat between fighters to a B29 Superfortress bomber ditching in the sea, and a C-54 cargo plane being attacked by North Korean fighters.

Veterans of the 21 Troop Carrier Squadron, USAF, recount flying into impossibly short strips to rescue thousands of wounded soldiers—a feat for which they received a Presidential Citation. Others tell of their hair-raising escapades after being shot down, while those who were captured tell of the brutal treatment they endured at the hands of the enemy. In a truly rare and remarkable tale, 1st Lieutenant Melvin Shadduck recounts his daring escape from a POW camp.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 29, 2012
ISBN9781844686209
Combat Over Korea
Author

Philip D. Chinnery

Philip D. Chinnery is the author of Full Throttle.

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    Combat Over Korea - Philip D. Chinnery

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    Combat Over Korea

    Introduction

    THIS IS a book about the reality of aerial warfare against a merciless enemy above the forbidding terrain of the Korean Peninsula. It will tell the story of a struggle by brave men to overcome not only enemy fighters and flak, but to prevail under horrendous flying conditions, often piloting aircraft that were outdated and using unreliable ordnance left over from the Second World War.

    Generally speaking, most fighters or bombers return home at the end of their mission and their crews can look forward to a hot meal, a drink or two and a bed to sleep in. The unlucky few who have been shot down can expect terror, pain and the prospect of death before they hit the ground. Once on the ground in Korea, aircrew soon discovered that this was a different war to that fought over Europe in the Second World War. There would not be a brief interrogation, followed by a trip to the nearest Stalag or Oflag where one would exist on Red Cross food parcels, reading letters and books sent from home. There would be no camp theatrical groups to join and no escape committee producing false documents and altering uniforms to blend in with the civilian population.

    Those unlucky enough to survive captivity under the Japanese in the Second World War claimed that the Korean guards were the worst of the lot. Aircrew shot down over Korea soon discovered what this meant — a complete lack of mercy and humanity, where captured aircrew would be tortured and killed, or forced to march bare foot through snow, without food or medical attention. Their interrogators would starve them or threaten them with death, before sending them to prison camps where they would slowly fade away due to the harsh conditions and poor diet.

    When the Chinese entered the war things changed slightly in that captured aircrew had more of a chance of reaching a prison camp in one piece. Once there however, they would begin a process of indoctrination where the amount of food you had to eat was directly related to your willingness to embrace the communist cause. To incur their wrath however, would often result in severe punishment or death.

    The stories in this book are told by aircrew who were lucky enough to return home after completing their tour of duty, as well as some taken prisoner and released at the end of the war. The final chapter will discuss the fate of those who did not make it back and the lessons to be learnt for the future. And the future may arrive sooner than we think.

    Philip Chinnery, London 2011

    Acknowledgements

    I would like to thank the following for their kind assistance with the research for Combat over Korea; Spyros Andreopoulos, Peter Arbuthnot, Robert Arndt, John Baker, T.C. Crouson, Bob Dahlberg, Jim Flemming, Clarence Fry, Ron Guthrie, Lesley Gent, Martin Fick Henderson, Joseph Holden, Steve Kiba, Lyall Klaffer, Bill Latham, Walter Laute, Alan Leahy, Robert C. Mikesh, Dan Oldewage, Roland Parks, Leroy Pratt, Don Smith, David C. Swann, Howard Tanner, Joe Wosser and the Cold War Association. I hope they will enjoy the final product.

    Chapter 1

    Invaders from the North

    Chapter Contents

    The Shipwreck Party

    Dawn Attack

    Yaks on the Horizon?

    The Aussies Join the Battle

    Shooting Stars

    Into the Breach – Task Force Smith

    Mosquitos

    The Navy Arrives

    Taking the Fight to the Enemy

    Air Rescue

    The Superfortress Arrives

    Marine Close Air Support

    Night Fighting Tigercats

    The Shipwreck Party

    ON THE morning that the Korean War began most of the pilots of 77 Squadron, Royal Australian Air Force, were either drunk or nursing hangovers. And why not? Their tour of duty in Japan was at an end and they were about to return home. Some of the ground crews had already left and many of their Mustangs were cocooned in plastic ready for the sea journey back to Australia. One of their pilots, Jim Flemming, recalled the day that war broke out on the Korean Peninsula:

    ‘The final flight of 77 Squadrons Mustangs landed at Iwakuni on Friday 23 June 1950. The aircraft were then to be prepared for transportation back to Australia. Already the arrangements had been made for a weekend-long party for all members of the squadron, designed as a party to end all parties. The 77 hangar had been decked out as a venue where the airmen and other ranks could celebrate. The Sergeants Mess was transformed into a desert island and pirate's lair and many American guests, from as a far afield as Itazuke, Ashiya and Tokyo, had been invited to join the revelry.

    ‘A Shipwreck party had been organised by the sergeants for all Mess members, and all officers and wives were invited to rendezvous at 8 pm on 24 June. To join the party was not without difficulty. Guests had to walk the plank to board a sailing ship model outside the Mess main door after disposing of a special pirate cocktail to gain entry. Geoff Thornton and me, dressed as skeletal looking pirates, had buckets of whisky and water pistols, and everyone who gained entry through the door had to open their mouths and a squirt of Scotch whisky was administered. This started at about 7 pm, so imagine how the party developed.

    ‘Once inside, the guests were greeted by the sight of an island, rigged inside the Mess, surrounded by rubber dinghies in lieu of seats. Those found not imbibing at the required rate were thrown into a brig, where the piratical jailers would ply them with liquor until the recalcitrant ones were judged sufficiently respectably sozzled enough to be freed to mix with the island's shipwrecked inhabitants.

    ‘Everyone was required to wear suitable castaway attire. Those who were not suitably attired were given a fair trial and deposited in the fishpond outside the Mess as punishment. Most of the piratical members were clad in swimming trunks and shirts, shorts and nightshirts tied with neckties and all complimented by the required snake bite remedy under the arm. The CO Wing Commander Lou Spence and his wife had arrived in tennis shorts and shirts and were approved as they had been playing deck tennis when the ship was captured by the pirates.

    ‘As etiquette required, the CO departed the festivities at about 1 am. The Japanese jazz band, in the tradition of that which played aboard the Titanic, performed until after 3 am on the morning of 25 June. Some had retired but the diehards were still at it at 5 am. The band was ordered back to start playing again at 8 am and the party regained its rather hectic pace and was progressing well until the fateful telephone call from Tokyo came in.

    ‘Pilot 3 Ray Trebilco was acting Orderly Sergeant and had to stay reasonably sober so he answered the telephone at about 10.45 am on 25 June. The call was from the US 5th Air Force HQ in Tokyo and the caller, an American colonel, told Ray that 77 Squadron was to be on immediate standby as North Korea had invaded the South that morning. Ray laughed at this and replied, Hey! Good try, but you can’t take the mickey out of us. We are all packed up and ready to go back to Australia. We are having a great farewell party so come and join us – and hung up the phone.

    ‘Within twenty minutes another phone call came, this time from a rather angry American General at 5th Air Force HQ. Now Ray was a bit worried and reported by telephone to Squadron Leader Graham Strout, the squadron Operations Officer, at his home. Graham Strout drove to Wing Commander Spence's home and advised him of the situation. Spence and his wife were preparing for a skiing holiday, but it was never to be as he was shot down and killed a couple of months later.

    ‘None of the pilots believed that the situation was genuine and many told Trebilco to Bugger off and don’t be ridiculous. However Spence ordered all drinking to cease and closed the bars. He arranged for all aircrew to be briefed in the Mess at 1.30 pm on Sunday, 25 June and by mid afternoon all ranks from the CO down to the cooks were actively engaged in the awful task of de-inhibiting the Mustangs which had been prepared for the sea voyage to Australia.

    ‘The next week saw the drop tanks fitted, guns armed and all aircraft test flown. Under the expert guidance of Flight Sergeant Darby Freeman, the Squadron senior engineering NCO, all the pilots were trained in minimal aircraft maintenance and by 30 June the squadron was able to report 100 per cent serviceable craft. Bad weather prevented any flying until 1 July. The first squadron operational mission was flown at first light on 2 July 1950 and the first RAAF mission over North Korea on the afternoon of the same day.’

    Dawn Attack

    At 0500 hours on 25 June, as the 77 Squadron pilots were enjoying their farewell party and the early light of dawn was cresting the horizon, the North Korean gunners slammed the breeches shut on their Soviet supplied artillery pieces and began a short fifteen-minute barrage as the tanks of the 105th Armoured Division belched smoke from their exhausts and prepared to advance. At 0515 hours they crossed the line of departure, followed closely by infantry from the 3rd Division commanded by Major General Lee Yong Ho. With the 2nd Division on their left flank and the 4th Division on their right, they crossed the 38th Parallel and began their march on Seoul, the capital of South Korea. Seven infantry divisions were on the move, together with an armoured brigade and two more infantry divisions were following in reserve.

    At first the 3rd Division made rapid progress as the surprised and outnumbered Republic of Korea (ROK) troops fell back, but as they reached the outskirts of Pochon they began to meet more determined resistance. That night the leading units dug in outside the town and when they moved forward in the morning they discovered that the defenders had withdrawn during the night.

    The North Korean Air Force was also playing its part. Their fighters attacked the airfields at Seoul and Kimpo and destroyed a USAF C-54 on the ground at Kimpo. It was the first American aircraft loss of the conflict. Within hours John Muccio, US Ambassador to South Korea, relayed to President Truman a ROK request for US air assistance and ammunition.

    To the east, the North Korean 5th Division lunged across the 38th Parallel and began to advance down the main road that paralleled Korea's rugged east coast. They were supported by the 766th Independent Unit, part of a large amphibious force under direct control of the North Korean Army's headquarters in P'yongyang. The 1,500 man strong unit had established bridgeheads along the east coast, in the rear of the ROK Army, in order to disrupt rear area communications and defences. Members of the unit had received extensive amphibious and guerrilla training, and after meeting up with the 5th Division they were to infiltrate through the mountains in the direction of Pusan, the southernmost city on the Korean Peninsula.

    By the evening of the first day the division had reached Kangnung, where an all-night battle ensued. By the following morning they had won control of the town and the defenders joined the long lines of tired refugees heading south.

    Back at Iwakuni the Australians had not been idle. The Wing Commander and his two flight commanders, Brick Bradford and Bay Adams, assembled the pilots in the Mess billiard room and told them to stop drinking and get out on the flight line. The aircraft were to be prepared for flight, armed and with drop tanks fitted to extend their range should they have to fly over Korea at short notice. Many of the ground crews had already left for Australia, so the pilots stripped to the waist and sweating profusely in the humid heat, began to ready their aircraft. One cracked the old Royal Australian Air Force joke, ‘If I knew I'd be this thirsty now, I'd have had more to drink at the party.’

    Samples of fuel were checked for water, glycol (the engine coolant) and oil levels were checked and the engines run. Next, the airframes were inspected for damage and flight controls checked for ‘full and free’ movement consistent with control column and rudder pedal movement. The pilots helped load the belts of 0.50-caliber ammunition into the ammunition bins and inspected and oiled the three Browning guns in each wing. Some planes needed their guns and gun-sights harmonising, so that they were most accurate at 300 yards.

    Eight planes and their pilots were put on immediate standby and they sat around the crew room until nightfall, discussing the best way to cope with the Russian-built Yak-9 fighter being flown by the North Korean Air Force. The Mustang was the best propeller-driven fighter of the Second World War, and easily outclassed its rivals with its top speed of over 700 kilometres per hour and range, with auxiliary fuel, of more than 2,500 kilometres. Its armament was varied and included six 0.50-caliber machine guns and a combination of standard bombs, high-explosive rockets, fragmentation bombs, napalm tanks and armour-piercing, high-velocity rockets.

    Each inner gun carried 400 rounds of ammunition, while the middle and outers carried 270 rounds. This allowed about twenty-five seconds of firing with the middle and outers and the remaining time in the inners was often held for self-defence. So the guns could fire more than 1,000 rounds in twenty-five seconds and still have 800 rounds as a back-up.

    Almost a full day passed before President Truman and his advisers in the White House began to stir themselves into action. The lack of action on the part of the Americans was only to be expected, after all, had they not recently made it clear that they would not fight for Korea?

    Washington was half a world away and half a day behind in time when the news began to arrive. It was a summer Saturday and the President was out of town, visiting his family in Missouri. The weekend was always a good time to start a war; in the offices of government and the Pentagon only duty personnel were at their desks. As the evening came, press rumours of something happening in Korea began to reach the State Department. Then, at 2126 hours a dispatch was received from Ambassador John J Muccio in Seoul confirming that an invasion was underway. By midnight the Secretary of State had reached the President by telephone, and the Secretary General of the United Nations had been notified of the emergency.

    Sunday in Washington would be a day of frenzied activity. At 0200 hours Secretary Acheson spoke with the President again and the decision was made to ask the Security Council to convene at the United Nations. The Council met at 1500 hours, but with the notable absence of the Soviet delegate. The United States proposed a resolution which called upon the North Korean Peoples Republic to desist from aggression. It was passed by nine votes to nil, with Yugoslavia abstaining.

    While the politicians were discussing the breach of the peace at the United Nations, the Secretary of State, the Secretary of the Army and the military chiefs were in conference at the Pentagon. In the meantime, President Truman boarded his plane for the flight back to the Capital. The Russians who had backed the invasion, and the North Koreans themselves, were in for a surprise; despite earlier statements to the contrary, President Truman had decided that the United States would oppose the invasion.

    On Monday 26 June, President Truman announced the decision to send arms to the Rhee government under the Mutual Defence Aid Pact, but no mention was made of the movements of US armed forces. In the evening a second conference of military and civilian chiefs took place and the decisions taken at the end of it were far-reaching. The Secretary of State recommended that air and naval support be given to the Republic of Korea under sanction of the Security Council resolution of the day before; that increased military aid be extended to the Philippines and Indochina and that Formosa be neutralized to prevent invasion by the Chinese. At that time there was little belief that the Soviets or Chinese would intervene, and in the mistaken belief that the ROK Army could hold its own against the invaders, little thought was given to committing US ground forces. The recommendations were accepted by the President and a directive was sent to General MacArthur, authorizing him to use his air and naval forces against the invading army south of the 38th Parallel and instructing him to neutralize Formosa by use of the Seventh Fleet to prevent either an attack on Formosa from the mainland or an invasion of China by the forces of Chiang Kai-shek.

    While these decisions were being made, the ground offensive was gathering pace. The day after the start of the invasion, the North Koreans captured Chunchon, Pochon and Tongduchon. On the ground the ROK infantry slowly retreated, with no means of stopping the enemy tanks and no air cover to try to even the odds. The South Korean Air Force was outclassed by the Soviet equipped North Korean Air Force and sent an urgent request to the US Air Force for the loan of ten F-51D Mustangs. A composite unit of USAF and South Korean airmen was to be organised at Taegu airfield, to fly the aircraft.

    Although American advisers had been training and equipping the Republic of Korea (ROK) Army, they were in no condition to take on the North Koreans. They had no aircraft or tanks, nor any means of destroying the enemy T-34's. As they began to retreat, the US Far East Air Force headquarters in Japan despatched transport aircraft to evacuate the Americans and other western civilians in South Korea. In the Philippines the US Seventh Fleet began to raise its anchors and start to steam steadily towards the war zone.

    The initial evacuation of US citizens began in freighters from the west coast port of Inchon, with air cover provided by F-82G Twin Mustangs of the 68th Fighter All Weather Squadron. Plans were in hand for air evacuation too, once Far East Air Force had traded in its larger, heavier C-54s for C-47s that could land on the smaller airfields.

    On the afternoon of Tuesday 27 June, the United Nations Security Council met again in New York. The Soviet Union was not represented at the meeting, having decided to boycott the council, as a member of which they had veto power over action by the international body. It was a great mistake on their part. In the evening, the Security Council passed a resolution that called on member nations to assist South Korea to repel the North Korean attack. It could not come quick enough. Although the nations of the western world were heartened to see the leadership of the United States in standing fast against communist aggression, the news on the ground was getting worse by the hour. The invaders were advancing virtually unopposed and Seoul, the capital of South Korea, was about to fall.

    General MacArthur ordered the 5th Air Force to establish air superiority over South Korea, partially to prevent the North Korean Air Force from attacking ROK forces, but also to protect the evacuation forces. The 374th Troop Carrier Wing at Tachikawa Air Base in Japan was the only air transport unit in the Far East. Colonel Troy W. ‘Swampy’ Crawford, the Wing Commander, called a meeting of all flying personnel to explain the situation and sent them away to bring out the American civilians, diplomats, missionaries and military advisory personnel. They were warned that enemy fighters might try to interfere with the evacuation, so they carried loaded weapons, wore helmets, and had filled canteens and first aid kits strapped on. By the time they were finished they had managed to evacuate 748 persons from Kimpo airfield near Seoul and Suwon airfield, some twenty miles south of the capital.

    When North Korean aircraft appeared over Kimpo and Suwon airfields, the USAF aircraft flying air cover engaged the enemy in the first air battle of the war. Major James W. Little, commander of the 339th FAWS fired the first shot. Lieutenant William G. Hudson, 68th FAWS, flying an F-82, with Lieutenant Carl Fraser as his radar observer, scored the first aerial victory. In all, six pilots shot down over Kimpo seven North Korean propeller-driven fighters, the highest number of USAF aerial victories in one day for all of 1950.

    Far East Air Force had not been idle and orders went to the 20th Air Force to send all combat ready B-29s in the 19th Bomb Group to Kadena Air Base on Okinawa and prepare to attack targets in Korea the next day. They would manage to put four bombers in air which flew north along the railway from Seoul and dropped their loads on any likely targets.

    Yaks on the Horizon?

    Wednesday 28 June 1950. Air Force Lieutenant Bill Bailey squinted through the windscreen of his aircraft at the four dots fast approaching from the north. Were they the Air Force F-82s that were supposed to be escorting their supply mission to Suwon? The F-82 was a twin tail two-propeller fighter, but the approaching aircraft were clearly single prop types. They came nearer and then, to Bailey's surprise, they broke into two pairs, the first pair diving towards the airstrip below and the cargo plane unloading on the ground. The second pair headed directly for Bailey's C-54 aircraft.

    Instinctively, Bailey turned his aircraft away and ordered his navigator, Lieutenant Ahokas, to climb up on a stool and look out of the astrodome towards the rear of the plane to try to see what was happening. The fast approaching aircraft were North Korean Yak fighters and they were right on their tail. As the navigator peered through the glass dome, their wings sparkled and a burst of tracer fire flew by his head. Startled, he dived backwards into the plane as the pilot dived towards the paddy fields below. For the next thirteen minutes Bailey threw the big cargo plane around the sky, trying to keep one step ahead of the attackers.

    Suddenly a bullet exploded with a bright flash and a cloud of smoke in the rear of the cargo compartment. They were carrying 14,000 pounds of 105mm howitzer ammunition and the bullet struck close to the powder canisters stored in the rear of the plane. Bailey increased his speed as the Yaks came round again, their guns hammering out a cloud of bullets towards the large target below them. Holes appeared in the hydraulic system, the radio operator's station, the fuselage and the wings, and much of the engine instrumentation to two of the four engines was knocked out. Eventually, their ammunition exhausted, the Yaks drew level with the plane and stayed there, observing for twenty or thirty seconds. Finally they broke away, towards the north.

    Bailey climbed into cloud cover and turned his plane towards Japan and home. Air-Sea Rescue sent an SB-17 Flying Fortress to escort them to Ashiya Air Base, where ground crew later counted 292 holes in their aircraft.

    Back at Suwon airfield, the C-54 unloading on the ground was a sitting duck. The two Yaks could not miss and they peppered the plane with fire as the crew ran as fast as they could to shelter in the nearby rice paddy. One of the crew was hit by a machine gun bullet and became Combat Cargo's first Purple Heart winner. Eventually the right wing and cockpit began to burn, slowly at first, but taking hold as the sun sank lower towards the horizon. Two Air Force cameramen hurriedly descended the steps at the rear of the aircraft, carrying blankets, thermos flasks and a five gallon can of fuel. As the fire inside glowed brighter, they emerged again, carrying several cases of 105mm shells which they figured might make a mess of the airstrip if they went off. Within minutes the fuel tanks in the wing exploded, transforming the plane into a burning wreck, lighting up the area as the sun was finally extinguished and another cool, dark night began.

    On the ground the situation was deteriorating fast. Enemy forces had occupied Kimpo airfield and on the east coast, Mukho naval base below Kangnung. Their Yak fighters strafed Suwon airfield, destroying one B-26 light bomber and one F-82. As T-34 tanks approached Seoul the order went out to the American advisers at the Korean Military Advisory Group headquarters to ‘leave immediately and head for Suwon’. A short time afterwards Time-Life correspondent Frank Gibney and Burton Crane of the New York Times found themselves in a jeep stuck in a traffic jam on the bridge over the Han River. The streets were full of refugees carrying their worldly belongings on their back, and the traffic was moving at a walking pace. In front of the jeep was a huge six-by-six truck full of South Korean soldiers.

    Halfway across the bridge the sky was suddenly lit by a huge sheet of amber flame, followed by a tremendous explosion immediately in front of them. Their jeep was thrown back fifteen feet by the blast and two spans of the bridge began to crumble thirty feet into the river. Gibney's glasses were smashed and blood began pouring down from his head over his hands and clothing. Crane was in a similar state and the two shaken men raced for cover, thinking that an air raid was underway. They were wrong; the bridge had been dynamited on the orders of the Korean chief of staff, who panicked and ordered the bridge to be blown too soon. The six-by-six truck was now burning brightly and its occupants were all dead. Bodies of the dead and dying were strewn all over the bridge; both civilians and soldiers. The two reporters were lucky, having been shielded from the blast by the truck in front of them, but now they had no choice other than to join the crowds of refugees searching for a way to cross the river.

    Apparently half of the South Korean troops had been killed or cut off during the first day of attack. Nearly all their field guns had been lost or abandoned, out-ranged by the heavier North Korean guns. Command and control had broken down and the priority of the soldiers and civilians now was to get as far away from the invaders as quickly as possible.

    On the morning of 28 June, the weather was still good and American planes went into action. Flying from bases in Japan, B-26 and B-29 bombers began to bomb roads and railway lines north of Seoul, while F-80 and F-82 fighters strafed troop concentrations and columns on the road. Unfortunately, with the poor ground to air communications that existed in those early days, South Korean troops were also liable to be strafed by the over-zealous American pilots.

    More than twenty B-26 Invaders of the 3rd Bombardment Group attacked the Munsan railway yards near the 38th Parallel and rail and road traffic between

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