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

by Gerald McIlmoyle

Buddy L. Brown

  Knoxville, Tennessee

  Cuban Missile Crisis October 1962

  My mission photographing and locating Soviet missiles on the island of Cuba began October 1962. Prior to the Strategic Air Command (SAC) being assigned the Cuban mission, the CIA had been monitoring the weapons’ movement with their own U-2Cs. As a result of the increasing tension between the United States and the Soviet Union, President Kennedy wanted to avoid embarrassment of a clandestine CIA plane being lost over Cuba. The President decided USAF pilots would fly the reconnaissance program. The wheels were put in motion.

  There were 11 pilots initially involved in the “Missiles of October” crisis. This is my personal account of my first Cuban mission and the events leading to it. I don't remember how I was notified, but Jerry McIlmoyle and I were flown out to Edwards AFB (North Base) to sit in and listen to the dialog between the SAC brass and the Agency (CIA) brass regarding who should take over and fly the Cuban mission, the CIA or USAF. The meeting was in the evening at the North Base Operations building. Jerry and I were seated at the back of the small auditorium listening to the heated dialog between the two agencies’ big chiefs. I thought we were both there to get checked out in the Agency's “C” model if SAC was to be assigned the responsibility for this mission. Rudy Anderson and Steve Heyser had already been qualified in the “C” model. The dialog became heated; in fact, Jerry and I were asked to leave before the discussions continued. I don't know what happened for the remainder of the meeting, but the next day I was flown back to Laughlin AFB along with our contingency of Laughlin brass. We arrived late in the evening. The next morning, I went down to the 4028th operations and briefed the boss and mission planners on what I had heard and observed at the meeting at North Base. I was surprised to learn that particular contingency had been planned months earlier and was “on the shelf”. There were many secure calls made and our operations and maintenance activity increased dramatically. The end result was that the 4080th SRW had replaced the Agency and had been assigned the reconnaissance program over Cuba.

  I was selected, along with several other pilots, to fly the initial recon missions. We all reported to Operations in the early afternoon, and received a quick overview and mission update. We were directed to go home and immediately start our required eight hours of crew rest. We were to report back to Operations at 0100 the next morning. I went home, took a sleeping pill and hit the sack. The next morning, I reported to Operations along with the other primary pilots. We started our final briefings. I looked around and it seemed everyone from our Wing was in the briefing room.

  After the briefings, we went to PSD (Physiological Support Division) for our premission meal, modified physical, and mission update. The PSD guys helped us get into our pressure suits. It was raining when we started dressing. During our pre-breathing period, I could tell it was one of those Texas thunderstorms. The rain came down with greater intensity and the winds, lightning and thunder all had increased. The weather was looking bad outside. I thought we would never be cleared to take off in weather like this. The crosswinds were quartering tail wind and were way out of limits. The increased thunderstorms were pounding the area. Much to my surprise, SAC executed the mission. I was transported in our PSD vehicle to my aircraft. The rain was so severe, I could hardly see more than a couple of feet in front of the van. The strong winds were shifting the vehicle as we drove out to the aircraft.

  Cuban Missile Crisis pilots and the commanding officers. Back row, left to right: General Thomas Powers, CINCSAC, Captain Edwin Emerling, Major Buddy L. Brown, Major Steve Heyser, Captain James Qualls, Captain Roger Herman, Colonel John DesPortes. Front row, left to right: Captain George Bull, Captain Charles Kern, Captain Gerald McIlmoyle, Captain Robert Primrose, Captain Daniel Schmarr.

  The bird I was to fly had slipper tanks installed which contained electronic intelligence collection equipment. It had been spotted on the apron just off Runway 13 (130 degrees). “Great,” I thought, “The winds were blowing from approximately 280 degrees with a quartering tail crosswind, and now were way out of U-2 limits of 25 knots.” I got out of the PSD van and walked about 20 feet to the ladder to get into the cockpit. The cockpit looked like it had filled up with water. Not so; it was just raining so hard it seemed that wet. I hoped all that water wouldn't short out any of my electronics.

  The Mobile Officer was soaking wet, I was soaking wet and everything around us was soaking wet. The Mobile Officer told me to complete my cockpit check solo so he could close the canopy. I completed my cockpit check and signaled Mobile that I was ready to start my engine. I looked out the left side of the canopy watching the wind blow sheets of rain across the runway. The whole scenario was unbelievable, and the Mobile Officer was going to launch me into that? Say your prayers, Buddy Boy.

  This was a radio-silent mission, so only light signals were used to start, taxi and clear for takeoff. I led my bird and followed the light wand for the 50 or so feet I had to taxi to the active runway. Sitting in the cockpit, I felt the strong wind buffet my aircraft. The rain was still incredible after all this time. I got a green light, gave the bird full power, released brakes and started my takeoff roll. All during the takeoff roll the aircraft was buffeting. “I hope my pogos drop freely,” I thought to myself. As soon as I lifted off and established my climb, I set my controls to the Gust position, slowed to turbulent air penetration speed, and turned every light in the cockpit to “High.”

  The lightning lit up the sky like daylight, and all the while I was being bounced around. This roller coaster ride lasted until about 50,000 feet when I finally broke out into a clear night sky. What a relief. I hoped everyone made it okay. I continued the climb to altitude, changed from Gust to Fair position, locked in the autopilot and settled in to start my celestial shots. I think there were about six of us that took off that night, and all would return to Laughlin AFB after completing our Cuban missions. I was designated to recover at McCoy AFB, Florida. I crossed the Gulf and after a few hours, I picked up my initial coast in point in the western part of Cuba around Pinar Del Rio.

  About 15 minutes before entry, I powered up my B configuration camera, set the mode and checked all the aircraft systems. I crossed over into the Cuban land mass; all my camera equipment was on and operating normally. All my targets were in the western part of Cuba. The weather in Cuba that day was cooperating and my areas were clear. Tracking and staying on course were easy; I used the drift sight. There were many checkpoints to verify my position. After flying my programmed recon track, it was time to head back to McCoy AFB. I exited Cuba and headed north to Florida. Everything was still “radio silent.” Before I started the descent into McCoy AFB, I was authorized to make my first radio call and requested landing instructions.

  The weather at McCoy was great. I entered traffic from the downwind side, turned base onto final and made a full stop landing. My pogos were inserted, and Mobile cleared me to taxi and led me to my parking spot. As I was taxiing in, I observed a lot of activity at the ramp. Several vehicles converged on my bird as I completed my engine shutdown. The ladder was rolled up to the cockpit and the Operations Officer on the ladder turned out to be Major General Compton, the SAC Director of Operations. What a surprise that was! He welcomed me back and we exchanged a few words while my “B” configuration camera was being downloaded. I had completed my first Cuban mission.

  Several more U-2s arrived at McCoy within the next couple of days. The initial cadre of U-2 pilots there with me included Rudy Anderson, Steve Heyser, Jim Qualls, George Bull, Charlie Kern, Jerry McIlmoyle, Pinkie Primrose, Danny Schmarr, Roger Herman, and Ed Emerling. Up to this point I had not been checked out in the Agency's “C” model; however, a few days later, Jim Barnes, a CIA pilot and friend from other bases, flew in a “C” model and gave me my checkout.

  To this day, I don't know how we took off from Laughlin on that historic night with no hung pogos and no aborts. Without a doubt, our Guardian Angel was on duty watching over the 4080th Wing
that night.

  On what would be forever known as “Black Saturday,” October 27, 1962, I was assigned as the primary pilot for my target area in and around western Cuba. The secondary target area pilot was Rudy Anderson. If my target area was forecasted to be weathered in and the secondary target area was open, the secondary pilot would fly. As it turned out, my area was clobbered so Rudy flew his target area. He was shot down that day by a SAM and became the only pilot to be lost during the Cuban Missile Crisis. I remember that day. Some of us were out on the golf course because we could only fly every other day. From the golf course, we could see any U-2 entering the traffic pattern for a full stop landing. I was talking to “Chopper” Kern as we approached the green that was a high point on the course. I looked at Chopper and said, “I don't know what happened, but Rudy should have been back by now.”

  Later that day we were all summoned to report to Operations. We were briefed on the loss of our fellow pilot, Rudy and his U-2. It was sad to lose one of our own. We had all flown our scheduled missions knowing that it could have been our last. But those thoughts never entered my mind; I had a job to do and I did it.

  Richard Henry

  Venice, Florida

  There were 13 days of the most dramatic world events of my lifetime and I had a front-row seat. Even as President Kennedy and Premier Khrushchev frantically looked for ways to pull their countries back from the edge of disaster, they found it difficult to control their own military machines, let alone the rapid pace of outside events. Kennedy ordered saturation reconnaissance of Cuba to keep track of the Soviet missiles located there.

  Every single U-2 pilot who was not on duty in Alaska or stationed elsewhere overseas was called into service. My squadron flew as many as six missions a day over Cuba. We observed launch pads recognizable by their peculiar slash marks; also observed were fueling and checkout vehicles, communication lines and prefabricated storage bunkers. The USAF was so intent on carrying out Kennedy's orders that it ignored normal safety precautions. In the predawn hours of October 17, 1962, four U-2s took off from Laughlin AFB at Del Rio, Texas at 10-minute intervals in a blinding thunderstorm that would normally have grounded such a flimsy aircraft. The wingtip of the U-2 piloted by Major James Qualls barely missed the runway because of strong crosswinds. Qualls recalled, “We were just about mapping the entire island.” Colonel DesPortes, Commander of the 4080th SRW joked that he didn't have many pilots or aircraft left to fly over Cuba.

  At McCoy AFB, Florida, tensions were simmering between the Air Force “blue suiters” and the CIA support personnel who were responsible for servicing the U-2s and taking charge of the intelligence materials, such as the photographic film. The Agency people were still smarting from what they perceived as a power play by the Air Force in persuading Kennedy to deprive them of the mission over Cuba. “They were very resentful and made no bones about hiding it,” said Anthony Martinez, Operations Officer for the AF U-2 squadron.

  According to U-2 pilot Gerald McIlmoyle, CIA personnel “looked for fault in everything we did”. Jerry recalled that a CIA officer reported him to Washington for allegedly displaying signs of nervousness by urinating beside his U-2 shortly before takeoff. McIlmoyle had a good defense: he wanted to spare himself the laborious task of relieving himself aboard the aircraft when he was trying to focus on taking pictures of Soviet missile sites.

  On October 25, McIlmoyle returned from an overflight of Cuba with an alarming story about being targeted by an SA-2 missile site near the town of Banes on the northeast coast of Cuba. The CIA's U-2s had a device for detecting when they were being observed by enemy radar. When a radar system painted the plane, a yellow light appeared in the cockpit. When a missile locked onto the plane, the light turned red.

  The yellow light had already appeared by the time McIlmoyle made a scheduled turn over Banes. As he gently banked his aircraft, he saw two contrails zip up from beneath him and explode in the sky above. They looked like SA-2s. There was still no red light in his cockpit. McIlmoyle figured that either his detection system was not working properly or the operators of the SA-2 had fired the missiles blind, without engaging the guidance mechanism, in order to deprive him of the usual warning.

  Higher-ups were skeptical of McIlmoyle's story. A three-star AF general who reviewed the electronic intelligence told him bluntly, “You weren't fired at.” McIlmoyle, a Captain who later rose to the rank of Brigadier General in charge of the President's nuclear codes, believes to this day he was targeted.

  If Rudy Anderson was concerned about McIlmoyle's report, he kept his worries to himself. According to colleagues, Anderson was determined to fly more missions than anyone else, which meant somehow leaping in front of Richard Heyser who was ahead in the rotation. Operations Officer Martinez recalled, “Rudy was in high gear all the time. He was very competitive, patriotic and very, very dedicated. He was an absolute perfectionist.”

  According to Heyser, Anderson came to him at one point to ask if he could take a mission that Heyser had been scheduled to fly. Since Heyser had already racked up a large number of special missions, he was less concerned than Anderson about cramming in as much flying time as possible. Heyser remembered telling Anderson to check with Lt. Col. Martinez who was responsible for drawing up the roster. Heyser said, “If it's okay with him, it's okay with me. As a result, Martinez scratched my name out and put his name on the roster.”

  Exactly when this incident took place is unclear. Heyser says it happened on October 26, the day before Anderson's fatal flight. But flight records show that Anderson had already caught up with Heyser in number of missions by that point, which suggests that the incident may have taken place earlier.

  McIlmoyle also recalled Anderson going to Martinez on the evening of October 26, expressing an eagerness to fly, and asked to be put on standby the following day. Martinez could not recall this particular episode, although he said it is “plausible,” given Anderson's sometimes “intense” personality.

  The following morning, at least three other missions were scrubbed at the last minute, making Anderson the next pilot in rotation. Capt. Roger Herman had the job of clearing Anderson for takeoff. He followed him up the ladder to the aircraft and ran through a checklist of 30 or 40 items. He made sure that Anderson's oxygen supply was connected properly. Maps and TOP SECRET target folder were neatly stacked by the side of the ejection seat. A final preparation, called “press to test,” supplied a surge of oxygen that briefly inflated Anderson's partial pressure suit and filled the cockpit. When he was certain everything was in order, Herman slapped Anderson on the shoulder. “Okay, Rudy,” Herman said, “Here we go, have a good trip, see you when you get back.” Anderson gave a thumbs-up sign as Herman closed the canopy.

  Minutes later, Anderson's U-2 roared down the runway and headed toward Cuba. “Target number 33 destroyed. Target number 33 destroyed.”

  Joe Glenn Hyde, Jr

  Deceased November 20, 1963

  The following story appeared in Southwest Texas LIVE, October 17, 2006. It was written by Joe Glenn Hyde III and the article is submitted here with his permission.

  The Sky Still Burns In Your Memory

  On November 20, 1963, from Barksdale AFB, near Shreveport, Louisiana, a USAF U-2C took off on a reconnaissance sortie just after 6:00 AM to take photographs of the Island of Cuba.

  One year and one month after the end of the Cuban Missile Crisis, Strategic Air Command (SAC) U-2s from the famed 4080th Strategic Reconnaissance Wing were tasked with continued overflights of Cuba to ensure that the Soviet Union would not redeploy its offensive, medium-range nuclear missiles only 90 miles from Florida. Barksdale AFB was the temporary duty location for the U-2s performing these missions.

  The pilot wasn't new to the Cuba mission. He had been flying U-2 missions for over three years. Nor were sorties over Cuba just routine. At the end of the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Soviet Union had removed their nuclear missiles trained on the US homeland. However, the Soviets left Cuban President F
idel Castro with a gift of brand new SA-2 surface-to-air missiles like the one that shot down another U-2 pilot, Francis Gary “Frank” Powers, over Moscow in l960. Castro was also given a squadron of state-of-the-art MiG 21 fighter aircraft that were clumsy at high altitude, but still considered a formidable threat.

  During a previous deployment of support for the Cuban mission that year, this U-2 pilot was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross (DFC) for out-maneuvering a MiG 21 that attempted to meet it head-on. In all, during his short tour as a U-2 pilot, in addition to earning the prestigious DFC, he was about to pin on his fifth Oak Leaf Cluster to an Air Medal, meaning it was his sixth Air Medal. Even by today's standards, with frequent deployments to war zones of Iraq and Afghanistan, earning six Air Medals within three years is the exception, not the rule. The pilot had an “aw shucks” attitude about the medals. He said that everyone in his unit got them just for doing their job.

  By 11:00 AM, the pilot completed the zigzag flight plan over hostile territory taking classified pictures of the areas assigned his mission. He was approaching Key West, with the coast of Florida looming larger in the mid-morning sun. Earlier in the mission, in a required radio position report back to SAC command post, the pilot indicated that his autopilot had failed.

  Flying the U-2 was hard enough with the aid of an autopilot. Flying the U-2 without an autopilot was dangerous, especially at high altitude where the air is extremely thin. The airspeed indicator allowed for only three knots (about 5mph) of deviation. If flown too slow, the U-2 stalled and lost altitude quickly. If flown too fast, the U-2 entered a regime called “mach tuck” where the aircraft will exceed the speed of sound and probably break apart. This regime was known among the U-2 pilots as the “coffin corner.”