Remembering the Dragon Lady: The U-2 Spy Plane: Memoirs of the Men Who Made the Legend

by Gerald McIlmoyle

  The Nephography Shop was where all the action with the RB-57D and U-2 cameras took place. My Squadron Security Officer gave me the official “Shut Up and Burn Before Reading” TOP SECRET briefing. He said in no uncertain terms that outside this shop not a word was to be said about what we did or how we did it. Security was so tight and important in Hangar 2 that even the other shops seemed to be in the dark about what NEPHO did. The same attitude went for us at “SFERICS” which was Electronic Countermeasures.

  Everyone knew the primary part of our security was the little piece of plastic-laminated paper called a flight line badge. Not only did it allow us into certain parts of the flight line, it also authorized our entry into specific areas, such as NEPHO, SFERICS, Operations, etc; or, rather, DID NOT allow us into certain areas. The badge had a picture of the individual on the front along with a multitude of numbers indicating areas of authorization. Numbers were either visible or punched out prior to lamination. The numbers remaining on the badge were the designation for areas where the individual was authorized entry. The reverse of the badge contained ID information, signatures, and a round, funny looking red inked circle that seemed not to have been inked properly. These “un-inked” properties were intentional and none of us knew what they meant. However, the Air Police, or “Sky Cops” as they were called, knew what those spots on the badge meant.

  There were quite a few Sky Cops out on the flight line, each providing security for designated aircraft. When we went out on the flight line, the badge was clipped to the collar or pocket on our fatigues. When we came off the flight line and entered a non-secure area, the badge came off and went into the shirt pocket securely buttoned up. It was each individual's responsibility to take good care of the badge, or else it was “doomsday” for them with the Security forces.

  After a year of being cleared for TOP SECRET, I was pretty confident of the procedure. About the same time, the Squadron Security Officer was replaced by a Captain named, you guessed it, Chapman.

  Glenn R. Chapman and his son Joseph Michael Chapman, a U-2 crew chief at Beale AFB, California with Oscar, the Crow Flight mascot.

  One day, Bob Archey, a co-worker in NEPHO, and I decided to go for a cup of coffee so we cut across from the NEPHO Shop in Hangar #2 to A&E Squadron. Normally, the line badge didn't need to be worn on this part of the ramp, but we all wore it. Halfway across the ramp, one of the Sky Cops walked up and grabbed the line badge off my collar. What he held in his hand was only the badge clasp, no badge. This was cause for three blasts on his whistle which summoned just about every Sky Cop on base. I was ordered to “assume the position” on the ground face down, hands over head. A short time later Captain Chapman showed up and I was ordered to stand and answer his questions. It was over almost as fast as it started, and I was turned over to Captain Chapman. We went together to Pass and ID for my new badge. Then another problem surfaced. When they asked for my ID data, I gave them my last name, first name and middle initial. They asked what was my middle name and I told them that I had no middle name, only an initial. The Pass and ID staff really came unglued with that answer. Captain Chapman told them that he knew me well and I was not lying about the middle initial. Then Captain Chapman, still chafing from his humiliation of one of his troop's negligence in proper care of his Flight Line badge, looked me straight in the eye and told me in no uncertain terms: “Chap, one of us gotta change our names and it ain't me!” No, I didn't have to change my name either.

  Another memory I have of the Sky Cops was with a three-striper named Ross. I got to know Ross off duty as well as on duty. He was a very nice, gregarious person, but Lord help the individual who crossed him during his official duty.

  One day at the base cafeteria, Ross came in and asked to see my badge. He had seen it earlier and something struck him wrong about it. I gave it to him and he asked when I got it. I told him the date and he told me what the problem was. I didn't have the redinked circle on the back of the badge. It took me a while to convince Ross that there had been a mistake made when I got the pass. He wrote out a citation for me to have the problem taken care of. I went straight to Captain Chapman and he made a few phone calls. The reply he got was that there were a few badges that were made that same day that didn't get the proper stamp on the back. I went back to Pass and ID for the redinked stamp.

  One of our longest serving and most revered 4080th SRW Wing Commanders was Brigadier General John DesPortes. We enlisted guys, depending on whatever outfit we were with or whatever the circumstances, usually were extremely sorry or very glad to see a “Wing King” leave and get replaced by someone else. There was always hope when a commander left that the new Colonel Someone Else would be better than the last or the fear he could be even worse.

  Sometime after DesPortes assumed command, somebody in the Wing came up with the name of “Big John” for him. We came to know him as a hard but fair commander who somehow came to know just about everybody in the 4080th by either first name or nickname. This kind of congeniality was the only time in my entire Air Force career that I experienced it. When he learned who the drift sight guy was, he called me “Chap” like everybody else in the unit did.

  The drift sight was an upside down periscope placed in the U-2 aircraft so the pilot could view downwards to check a target on the ground. It was a lousy hunk of junk, but I was one of only two or three guys that liked working with the drift sight. I became very good at working on it. Every one of us was extremely competent on systems (Bobbie Black on the 73B camera, Jerry Fogel on the Tracker, Bob Archey on the A-2 camera configurations). Maybe I just wanted to do my best for “Big John”. I thought the world of him and still do. Like all the other guys, he was always “Big John” but I never even came close to saying “Big John” where he could hear me.

  A few years ago, I wrote a book about my U-2 experiences titled Me and U2: My Affair With Dragon Lady. I had volunteered to conduct a course about the U-2 to a local senior citizen group. One of the attendees was a gracious lady who introduced herself to me as Peggy DesPortes. I had a pleasant conversation with her and I decided I should tell her about the “Big John” nickname. I let her know that it was just a nickname someone came up with because we liked him so well. She told me that DesPortes knew from the first day that we called him “Big John” behind his back because he came home for lunch or dinner and told her, grinning, “They are still doing it!” Peggy said he just loved it, because he knew he was doing things right and that we appreciated him.

  A few years ago we lost Big John to Alzheimer's disease. It was a sad ending for one of the greatest guys I ever served. He was a great humanitarian and a good old southern boy. God love and protect you, Big John, from all of us in the 4080th SRW.

  For the Chapman family, the tradition of working with the U-2 has continued with my son, Joe. He was sworn in to the Air Force on the same day as my own father and I. I worked on the U-2A through the U-2F and Joe has worked on the U-2R and the U-2S. Joe was with the 9th Recon Squadron at Beale AFB and the 5th Recon Squadron, the Air Force Black Kats at Osan AB, Korea. I was with Operation Crow Flight, the High Altitude Sampling Program. The same program was renamed Project Olympic Race when Joe worked with the U-2 at Beale.

  Alexander R. (Alex the Old) Dulevitz

  Spring, Texas

  Wife: Ann

  My early exposure to the U-2 was in 1959 when I was living in Incirlik, Turkey. My father, Alexander Dulevitz, was a civil engineer providing contract support to the USAF units assigned to the base. I was a dependent son who took advantage of my father's foreign employment to see a part of the world that I had not seen, and at age 19 there was a huge world out there. Having lived on US Air Force bases all my life, I was reasonably confident I could identify most, if not all, aircraft in the United States’ inventory. I noticed an unusual looking aircraft and I was curious about its location--always on the “other side” of the base. I started asking a few questions about the aircraft and its mission. Upon reflection, I realize I was fortunate
that not more was made of my inquiries, but I was told it was a “weather” aircraft. I watched it take off several times, and the sight of that aircraft zooming so quickly into the air was breathtaking and a most memorable experience.

  During my stay in Turkey, I met some airmen on the base and bowled with them in their off-duty time. I learned that a unit associated with the aircraft was Detachment 1010. At the time there were three detachments: A in Germany, B in Turkey and C in the Far East. There were veiled references to Detachment 1010, although the official line was that it was all weather related. Knowing the people who worked there did not give me any confidence that they were in the weather business, but I did not suspect that they were “spooks,” either. Later I learned that it was the support unit for the mystery aircraft and a temporary home of the photographic interpretation unit and the collected imagery. At this time the US was using the U-2 to over fly not only the Soviet Union but China as well. Actually, I didn't learn the full story until five years later when I was a young Air Force lieutenant assigned as an imagery interpreter to Headquarters United States Air Forces Europe (USAFE).

  When I was commissioned in the Air Force, I passed the physical exam for flight school. For most Air Force officers, the ultimate goal was to be a pilot, but I don't like airplanes. I know it is unusual to be in the Air Force and not be in love with airplanes. So there you have the honest answer. I recall meeting the “motivation board” and they asked me what type of aircraft I wanted to fly. The correct answer was, of course, a fighter. I responded that I would like a bomber. When asked by the board why I wanted to be a bomber pilot, I answered, “Because they have more engines.” That answer told the board all they needed to know and they sent me into something less glamorous. Someone decided I might be interested in Intelligence and there my career unfolded.

  I was first introduced to the unique capabilities of the U-2 in 1963 as I assisted with the development of tactical targeting materials used by the tactical units in Europe. The materials were used to develop attack routes to targets in the former Soviet Union and Eastern Europe. In 1965 the imagery was still within the realm of sensitive controlled information, but we followed procedures for release of some imagery at the SECRET NOFORN (No Foreign Nationals) level. The Tactical Targeting Information (TTI) sheet used the printed imagery and specific data about the target. Given that much of the Soviet Union had not been photographed by the U-2, we also used German World War II imagery with a much lower resolution and no explanation for the changes that occurred over time. The TTIs were of limited value, but gave the pilots some sense that there was a real target at the end of their penetration route. Obviously, it was better when the TTI contained U-2 imagery.

  Within the imagery interpretation process, there were generally considered to be three phases. The first was the “initial” in which the imagery was reviewed for coverage of intended targets. The product of the application was called the Initial Photographic Interpretation Report (IPIR). The secondary phase was the review done for any number of reasons, but actually involved the more complete use of the imagery for target/installation review and update. The product was called the Supplemental Photographic Interpretation Report (SUPIR). The third phase was generally considered to be the in-depth review done for specific installations. For example it could include detailed reporting on the launch complex at Tyura Tam or the flight test range at Akhtubinsk-Vladimirovka or the Surface-to-Air missile test facility at Sary Shagan where the Russians eventually developed their missile test range. The folks who did the third phase were indeed the experts such as the man who taught antenna configurations at NPIC.

  I was stationed at USAFE from 1963 to 1967 at Lindsey Air Station, Building A-17 which housed the Headquarters Deputy Chief of Staff for Intelligence, my home away from home for three of those four years. Most of that time I spent as a briefing officer, or “talking dog,” as the common title was known. I briefed the air attachés on a recurring basis, several ambassadors to the Soviet bloc countries and Senator John McCain's father, Admiral John S. McCain, prior to his taking command of our Pacific Forces. Admiral McCain made a tour to get an appreciation of the European threat and I was available to brief him. I recall the event primarily because of the timing of his trip near the Christmas holidays.

  My primary duties involved briefing the National Intelligence Estimates on Soviet forces, both offensive and defensive forces, in addition to developing other staff briefings of interest to the Headquarters staff. I also worked with the Headquarters Foreign Technology Detachment and provided imagery support on such topics as the new Soviet aircraft unveiled at the Domodovo Air Show in Moscow when the Soviets allowed us glimpses of the aircraft they were developing.

  One event has remained in my memory on how interesting my briefings were to civilians. One day I was told I would be briefing the Ambassador to Turkey, and I pulled out my briefing slides and awaited his arrival. The briefing room had a huge mosaic from imagery covering East Germany, a rather impressive backdrop. The Ambassador, Parker T. Hart, was a career diplomat who served as our ambassador in various Middle Eastern countries, including Turkey, Saudi Arabia and Kuwait. He arrived in the mid-afternoon, and I proceeded with the briefing which was about one hour depending on the number of questions asked. Mr. Hart sat quietly through the briefings and at the end asked only one question: “Are you related to Duley Dulevitz?” I replied he was my father. Mr. Hart nodded, thanked me for the briefing and left. I reflected that out of all the information provided, he was most interested in my name tag.

  In 1967 my tour in Europe ended and I was reassigned to Southeast Asia (SEA) and again ran across the U-2. The aircraft was then flying its primary routes and target areas developed to provide information and photography for the National Intelligence Community, a term that refers to certain three-letter agencies in Washington, such as CIA, NSA, etc. At one time, there was a National Intelligence Board comprised of all intelligence agencies and the Director of the CIA served as titular head of the group.

  The tasking for the U-2 in SEA focused on possible Chinese road building in the northern area of Laos. It was estimated the roads were being constructed to provide the Chinese access to the eastern provinces of Thailand. By 1967 the increased sophistication of the North Vietnamese defense environment made U-2 overflights impossible. That chore was assigned to other “air breathers” including the A-12. The term air breathers referred to aircraft that flew within the atmosphere using that same air as a prerequisite for their combustion engines. They were a great deal cheaper to operate than the more expensive satellites.

  Additionally, the weather over SEA was abysmal, often cloudy, so it was less expensive to use an aircraft rather than a satellite with limited film supply. Our primary intelligence focus remained the Soviet Union and China. Therefore, our aircraft continued to be a practical and affordable alternative.

  When the A-12 passed from CIA control to SAC and became the SR-71, it was modified for a two-man crew. In addition to the U-2 and A-12, we had the remotely piloted vehicles (RPV), little Firebee drones that were launched from beneath the wing of a modified C-130 transport aircraft and flew over North Vietnam. Some of the most startling imagery from that war came from those little drones which, at times, were no higher than 50 feet above the ground.

  When I arrived in SEA, the U-2 was tasked with covering portions of Laos and the transportation network known as the Ho Chi Minh Trail into Vietnam. The resolution of the imagery collected by the U-2 was so superior that even camouflaged trucks could be detected as they traversed routes into South Vietnam. Unfortunately, given the jungle environment and terrain, much of the film was of tree canopy.

  I used a loupe (same as jewelers use to view gemstones) and on a light table viewed a large roll of film showing the tree cover. The method at the time was to rapidly look over the image for features that were not normal and then, if necessary, use high-powered stereoscopes to magnify the image for detailed study. This would suggest that the imagery wa
s being well analyzed, but I observed interpreters working late at night actually fall asleep as the imagery slowly moved beneath their eyes.

  Once again I found myself in the role of “talking dog.” As the 7th Air Force intelligence briefer, I briefed the strike and reconnaissance results daily to a range of people, occasionally including civilian officials. I briefed the images that were of interest to the attendees such as successful strikes on convoys, air combat showing successful kills, and often what we called “happy” snaps that gave various general officers a feel for what we were seeing. The U-2 photos were useful because they provided very high quality images of trucks destroyed by US aircraft. At times we even had pictures of bicycles moving equipment down the Ho Chi Minh Trail. The most popular images were from the RPVs which at times flew so low that they captured the facial expressions of the startled North Vietnamese.

  One day I was briefing several civilians at the request of the Deputy Chief of Staff for Intelligence. They had been introduced to me by another civilian as “controlled American sources.” As it turned out, they were Germans who were going to penetrate into East Germany. I had been tasked to brief them on the installations and terrain of specific areas. During the course of the briefing, one of the men spoke to another in German. Colonel Opper, DCS/I, observed my reaction and told me to continue. Later he told me that we were supporting the Chief of Station in Bonn.