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

by Gerald McIlmoyle

  Airman Thomas Woodall and Airman Carmon Montoya at Williams AFB, AZ, waiting on pilots undergoing Altitude Chamber training. Sometime in 1964.

  Shortly after I started my training, a U-2 had to abort a mission with a maintenance problem and land at Barksdale AFB, Louisiana. Sgt Sekinger was on the recovery team from our shop and I was selected to go along as a trainee. A C-123 flew the recovery team to Barksdale; it was only a short time before the U-2 problem was repaired and it was launched back to Laughlin. We then loaded up the C-123 and prepared to depart. The C-123, being a very noisy airplane, required everyone to wear ear protection. About fifteen minutes into the flight, Sgt Sekinger brought me a parachute and told me to put it on. Because of the aircraft noise, I really could not hear what he said, but I understood to put the parachute on. This counted as my third airplane flight; the first was from West Virginia to Lackland for basic training and the second was the flight to Barksdale. After we landed at Barksdale, I learned we had lost an engine. Considering the C-123 only had two engines, I realized the seriousness of the situation. Sgt Sekinger was pleased that I was calm during the emergency; he never did find out that I had no clue what was going on until after we landed.

  We were at the barracks one day during an extremely hot day the summer of 1962. The barracks had air conditioning, but the equipment was struggling to keep up. Then strangely, a cold front blew through in the afternoon, and the temperature dropped about 50 degrees Fahrenheit in just minutes. Sgt Gamble had a Citroën automobile parked in front of the barracks with the windows up. With the rapid temperature drop and the heat inside the car, the rear window shattered. My room was at the front of the barracks facing the parking lot and I actually heard the windows explode.

  On October 1, 1962 I was selected to go on my first long-term temporary duty (TDY) assignment. It was to OL-5 at Eielson AFB, Fairbanks, Alaska. Jessie Gamble joined me on the TDY and Jay Barnett was already there. October at Laughlin AFB was a pleasant 75 degrees when we departed. I recall landing in Alaska, exiting the C-124 and being so cold that I could not talk until we were inside the building and warmed up. We worked seven days a week, fourteen hours a day. I do not remember the time difference between daylight and darkness, but it seemed like it was dark most of the time. We were at Eielson when the Cuban Missile Crisis started.

  Many of the 4080th veterans know about the Soviet Union overflight made by Chuck Maultsby. We launched the aircraft and waited and waited and waited. Word finally came five hours after he was due to land that Maultsby had landed in Alaska just across from the Soviet Union over 500 miles from where he had launched. Jessie Gamble went with the recovery team and we were told all flights were cancelled until further notice. We did not fly again for five days. We were all happy that Chuck Maultsby made it back safely, but we were saddened to learn Rudy Anderson was shot down over Cuba a couple days later.

  It was extremely cold at Eielson on December 28 when we rotated back to Laughlin. Someone said it was minus 60 degrees Fahrenheit; I'm not sure it was that cold, but we all wore our Zone 5 gear: parka, gloves and boots. The C-124 Globemaster we boarded had not been warmed up before we arrived. With all the gear I wore, I actually went to sleep bundled up and I did not wake up until we landed in El Paso, Texas where it was a balmy 78 degrees.

  It was only a short hop then to Laughlin. The TDY was a success and it added to my training for a job that I enjoyed.

  When a flight surgeon was not in attendance during a TDY, one of our duties in PSD was to give the pilots a mini physical exam before they dressed in their partial pressure suit. The exam consisted of checking blood pressure, temperature and pulse. I was working alone for an early morning launch. Jessie arrived before the launch because two of us were required to be on duty. That morning the pilot's blood pressure was 160/102, extremely high by anybody's calculation. I checked his blood pressure again with the same reading. Here I was, an airman third class, on my first TDY, alone and scared to death. Many things ran through my mind that morning while taking the blood pressure reading. We normally did not perform these mini physical exams. I had been raised and trained to always do the right thing so I reported it to the Mobile Officer on duty. The mission was scrubbed. I later learned the pilot had a history of blood pressure problems. That information would have been helpful had I received it sooner.

  The barracks at Laughlin had a laundry room with washers and dryers to use free of charge. Since we were always short of funds, it was a great way to save money. One of my friends who shall remain nameless was doing his white underwear. At the last minute he decided to throw in a red civilian shirt. Of course, the result was his white underwear was now a pretty shade of pink. He picked up the nickname “Pinkie” until someone told him to wash his underwear in Clorox bleach to remove most of the pink color.

  On January 25, 1963 I was selected to go with a recovery team to Fairchild AFB, Spokane, Washington. One of our airplanes had landed there with a maintenance problem. This time I was the only one from my shop selected to go. I didn't know how many airmen one- stripers had ever been selected to represent the shop for this type mission, but I was thrilled the brass had that faith in me. I had a friend from tech school who was stationed at Fairchild. When I learned it would be the next morning before the airplane was fixed, I called him. We met at the base cafeteria and had a nice visit. My excitement about being selected for this mission did not end when we returned to Laughlin. I learned I had been promoted to Airman Second Class; I could add another stripe to my sleeve.

  Each shop within the 4080th SRW was identified by different colored caps. We were allowed to wear baseball caps with our logo stitched in white. Operational Maintenance Squadron (OMS) wore green caps, Field Maintenance (FM) wore red, Armament-Electronics (A-E) wore black and Physiological Support Division (PSD) wore dark blue. Not only did it make us feel special, but on the flight line it was easy to identify who worked in which shop. In those days baseball hats were sold with straight bills. We spent time wetting the bills and putting rubber bands on them to get that exact curve so we did not look like dorks. A few years after I left the Air Force, my family and I attended an air show at Andrews AFB, Washington, DC and viewed a U-2 on display. The first thing I noticed was an airman wearing her dark blue PSD cap standing next to the display.

  In March 1963 I was selected to go TDY to OL 18 at Panama Canal Zone. Jessie Gamble was the NCO who went with me. Since he and I had been to Alaska together, we had become friends off duty as well. Jessie liked to clean the section and I liked to dress, hook up the pilot and do all the inspections on our equipment. We made a deal. He would keep the section spotless and assist me when I needed help. The arrangement worked out well, but we kept it between us because he was actually the one in charge. We were blessed with crew members who also liked it.

  Robert Wilke and Don Webster were two of the pilots with us. Major Wilke set up a Jungle Survival School for the crew members, and Jessie and I were invited to attend. We did everything the pilots did, including being hooked up to a parachute harness in the water with a Mae West flotation vest under our arms. We were pulled backwards through the water 100 feet behind a motorboat. We were instructed to wait until we were pulled under before releasing the parachute harness and deploying the Mae West vest. Another exercise was for each of us to be hooked up to a parachute harness and put on a platform in a tree. We were instructed to step off the platform, stop the swinging motion then release the harness and drop four feet to the ground. Then we continued on into the jungle for more training. I have a vivid memory of eating an iguana, and I'm glad to say that was the last one I ever ate.

  Major Wilke and Captain Webster loosely organized us into a basketball league while we were in Panama. Webster played on the team and Major Wilke was the coach. I had played basketball in high school so I was recruited on the team. Other squadrons from the base participated in the league as well as units from the nearby Army base. We took third place. Not too shabby since we had never even practiced tog
ether.

  Don Webster scheduled a tour of the Balboa Beer Brewery for our group, and a bus picked us up at the detachment. The Balboa staff took us on a tour of the plant and then to their visitor center. We were offered samples of all the different kinds of beer they made in addition to a variety of cheese and crackers. The most interesting person at Balboa was a gentleman who was the “Beer Taster.” Our group threw a lot of questions at him, such as: How can I get a job like you have? How many beers do you get to taste every day? We all had a great time and it was a nice break in the routine.

  I had the pleasure of working with Captain/Dr. Emory J. Sobiesk, a Flight Surgeon in Panama. His desk was in our duty section so Jessie and I became well acquainted with him. At the time the Air Force had a policy that stated a supervisor was required to complete a performance report for a subordinate under his supervision for 90 days or more. For that reason, our TDYs were usually no more than 89 days. We were delayed in Panama past the eighty ninth day and Dr. Soviesk was asked to do a performance report for me. It was a great evaluation and I'm sure it helped my promotion to Airman First Class.

  When I returned to Laughlin in June 1963, I had orders directing me to report to Davis Monthan AFB, Tucson, Arizona on July 3. I learned from Dr. Sobiesk he was also going to Davis Monthan and would be driving there. He invited Bert Kimball and me to ride with him.

  Since the entire wing was being relocated to Davis Monthan, we helped pack our shop. I helped Regis Fredette move bins in the supply room that had not been moved in years. Behind one of the bins was a parachute block, a piece of balsa wood cut to fit at the rear of the ejection seat behind the seat kit. The purpose of the block was to allow the parachute to rest on it and take the weight off the pilot's shoulders during flight. Each pilot had one carved to their preferred size with their last name on it. The one I found had the name Powers on it. Sgt Fredette quickly grabbed it out of my hands and said he would take care of it. I never saw that block again.

  I took a 30-day leave in September 1963 and planned to use the military hop system to get home to West Virginia without spending a lot of money for commercial airlines. I signed in at base operations in the tower at Davis Monthan, and after only an hour, I was told a T-39 was leaving for Wright Patterson AFB, Dayton, Ohio. They had one empty seat. However, there was a general officer onboard and I would have to ask permission to ride. I asked and was approved. An officer signed in after me and tried to bump me off the flight, but he was denied. It was a first-come first-served operation and I was there first. A few hours later we landed in Dayton and I took a bus the remainder of the way home.

  When I was ready to return to Davis Monthan, I went to Andrews AFB, Washington, DC, where my oldest brother was a Senior Master Sergeant and the NCOIC of Personnel. He arranged for me to get on a C-54 going to Kelly AFB in San Antonio, Texas. There were no other flights bound for Tucson and I had to take a bus the remainder of the way to Davis Monthan.

  On November 20, 1963 we received word that Joe Hyde's U-2 went down in the Gulf of Mexico. It was in the news until November 23 when President Kennedy was shot. Captain Hyde was one of our pilots flying TDY out of Barksdale AFB. All of us working in support of these brave men took it personally when something happened to “our” pilots. Almost a year later on September 18, 1964, Robert Primrose crashed due to a gust of wind. The same feeling of tragic loss gripped us.

  In December 1963 I was selected for a TDY to OL 19 at Barksdale AFB, Louisiana that extended through March 1964. This was the detachment that flew missions over Cuba. Joe Terrell was the NCO from PSD and Bill Miller was the junior airman from our shop. Flights were launched daily and pilots flew every third day.

  Captain David Ray was one of our crewmembers in the detachment, a very nice fellow. He had brought his family with him and they had rented a house off base. When he had an early morning flight, he drove his car and gave me the keys. He had asked me to take the car to his wife at 8:00 so she could have it during the day; she then drove me back to the base and picked him up when he returned.

  Partial pressure suit demonstration. Gary Dickinson, USAFA ‘ 64, John Patton, USAFA ‘63, Airman Thomas Woodall, PSD (in suit), June 1962.

  Most pilots carried a knife strapped around their ankles. Captain Ray had a handmade knife purchased from R.H. Ruana Knives in Bonner, Montana. It was a large Bowie-style knife and I always had admired it. He asked if I would like to purchase the knife and I told him I was not sure I could afford it. The knife was too heavy to be strapped to his ankle. Captain Ray asked me to purchase a Buck knife at the PX and he would trade me even for the Ruana knife. The Buck knife cost $12; it was a bargain for the handmade Ruana knife. Years later I gave the knife to my oldest son and told him the story of how I had received it.

  During this time we worked seven days a week and many hours during the day. The U-2 was scheduled to take off, fly the mission, land, and the film was immediately offloaded. A T-39 waited for the film and flew it directly to Andrews AFB where it was then sent daily to the interpretation facility. There were three men in our shop; two were required for launch and one for recovery. Joe and Bill had taken some time off, but I had worked 21 straight days with no time off. Joe knew I had family in the Washington, DC area, and he asked me about taking some time off. He talked with Captain Ray about approving a three-day pass for me and getting me on one of the T-39 flights. Captain Ray talked with Lt Col Joe King, the detachment commander, and received approval. I had three brothers and one sister who lived near Washington, DC; it didn't take long to call them and make arrangements to meet me. My parents came from West Virginia and we enjoyed a mini family reunion.

  Airman Thomas Woodall, PSD, in partial pressure suit. Note that the left hand is pushing the “push to test” button that inflates the suit. This was done after dressing the pilot in the PSD shop and also after hooking up the pilot in the aircraft. The test was for proper inflation, to check for leaks around the face shield and to make sure the seal did not leak around the pilot's neck. The seat kit had survival rations, an inflatable life raft and a life support system in it. The life support consisted of a regulator that was set to inflate the suit in case of a rapid decompression. It also had a small oxygen bottle in it to supply oxygen to the pilot in the event of a bail out. October 1962. (Note - a pilot would not perform this test. A PSD specialist would push the button. Woodall is only doing it in this picture for demonstration).

  Partial pressure suit demonstration. Gary Dickinson, USAFA ’64, John Patton, USAFA ’63, Airman Thomas Woodall, PSD (in suit), June 1962.

  On my last day, my brother who was assigned to Andrews took me to the base to catch my return flight. When I checked in, I was told I was not listed on the manifest. It was impossible for me to get on the return flight. My brother drove me to the commercial airport where I bought a ticket to Shreveport, Louisiana. I was one day late getting back, but it was an excused absence because Captain Ray had forgotten to list me on the return manifest. He offered to pay for my ticket, but I was so appreciative of being allowed to go visit my family, I declined the offer.

  Security around the U-2 aircraft operation was always extremely high. One of the airmen in my unit got into serious trouble for talking about our mission to the wrong person. It was a situation where the airman was just trying to impress a couple of young ladies, but was overheard by someone who turned him in as a security risk. Rumor was that he told the girls what time the airplanes took off so they could watch from a nearby road. The airman was reduced in rank and reassigned to another job. I saw him a year later and he had regained his lost stripe. He was sad about being taken out of the U-2 program. The testimony of Detachment Commander, Lt Col Forest “Whip” Wilson saved him from a jail sentence. The airman said he was extremely grateful that Col Wilson saved him from a ruined career. The airman, only nineteen, was a good person; he had made a serious error in judgment.

  We rotated back to Davis Monthan in March 1964. Tucson was a nice area and we did a bit of sightseeing
around the area. We also hunted deer, dove, duck, quail and turkey, and gave the married guys any game we bagged. Money was short for everyone, and especially for one of the fellows with a family.

  On June 6, 1964 I went on my last TDY to the most coveted destination: OL 11 at RAAF Laverton, Melbourne, Australia. A C-130 Hercules flew us and the equipment to Australia with stops at Hawaii and Fiji. I don't recall how many hours the flight lasted, but it seemed like forever.