By Walter J. Boyne
On Jan. 2, 1967, with aircraft losses in Southeast Asia on
the rise, the United States Air Force resorted to an elaborate
combat sting. The mission, called Operation Bolo, constituted
an electronic Trojan Horse concealing the hard-hitting F-4 Phantoms
of USAF's 8th Tactical Fighter Wing within a radiated image that
simulated bomb-laden F-105 Thunderchiefs.
Despite adverse weather and a few surprises, the "MiG
Sweep" did what it was designed to do: trick the increasingly
elusive MiG-21s of North Vietnam into engaging F-4s rigged for
aerial combat.
Until the latter part of 1966, MiG aircraft had not seen as
great a threat to USAF strike forces as the Surface-to-Air Missiles
and anti-aircraft fire. Ironically enough, the introduction of
the QRC-160 (ALQ-71) electronics countermeasures pod on the F-105s
changed this. The QRC-160 was effective in neutralizing the radar
controlling the SAMs and flak, and the resilient North Vietnamese
responded by increasing their use of MiG fighters to prey on
vulnerable F-105s configured for bombing.
Operating under ground control, and making maximum use of
both cloud cover and the almost benevolent American rules of
engagement, the enemy aircraft were adroitly employed. The MiGs,
especially the later model MiG-21s armed with heat-seeking missiles,
sought to attack the strike flights and make them jettison their
bomb loads prior to reaching the target areas. Their mission
was fulfilled if the Thuds were forced to drop their bombs prematurely,
but they tried to score kills wherever possible.
The air war in Southeast Asia, while unique in many respects,
harkened back to earlier conflicts in terms of the relative missions,
forces, and equipment. As in World War II and Korea, the mission
of US forces was to obtain air superiority, destroy the enemy
air forces, and conduct long-range bombing operations. The mission
of the enemy forces was to defend their most important targets
by choosing to engage the American bombers on a selective basis.
Thud, Phantom, Thud
There were other parallels. To achieve the air superiority
mission, the American fighters had to have a long-range capability
and still be able to defeat the enemy fighters over their own
territory. What the Mustangs and Sabres did in their wars, the
F-4 Phantom II was required to do in Southeast Asia. Flights
of F-4s, carrying a mixed ordnance load of bombs and missiles,
would be sandwiched in between Thud flights at four- or five-minute
intervals. If the F-105s in front or behind were attacked, the
F-4s would drop their bombs and try to engage. If they were not,
the F-4s would drop bombs right along with the Thuds.
A final, tragic parallel is the price paid to execute the
missions that were often laid on for statistical rather than
tactical reasons. Flying Phantoms or Thuds was dangerous work.
As a single example, by late 1967, more than 325 F-105s had been
lost over North Vietnam, most to SAMs and anti-aircraft fire.
The North Vietnamese air force consisted of slow but heavily
armed and maneuverable MiG-17s and a handful of modern delta-wing
MiG-21s. The MiG-17s were semiobsolete but still effective in
their defensive role. (The MiG-19 did not enter service with
the North Vietnamese air force until February 1969.)
The MiG-21 Fishbed was roughly half the size of the Phantom
and was designed as a high-speed, limited all-weather interceptor.
It could carry two cannons and two Atoll infrared homing air-to-air
missiles which had been developed from the US AIM-9B Sidewinder.
At altitude, the MiG-21 could outfly the F-4 in almost all flight
regimes. It had spectacular acceleration and turning capability.
At lower altitudes, the F-4s used their colossal energy in vertical
maneuvers that offset the MiGs' turning capability, for they
lost energy quickly in turns at low altitudes. The MiG-21s were
operated under tight ground control. They typically sought to
stalk American formations from the rear, firing a missile and
then disengaging. If engaged, however, its small size and tight
turning ability made the MiG-21 a formidable opponent in a dogfight.
The Phantom had been intended originally to be a fleet defense
aircraft, but it proved to be versatile in many roles, including
reconnaissance, Fast Forward Air Control, Wild Weasel, bombing,
and air superiority. The F-4Cs were armed only with missiles,
although gun pods could be fitted.
The air war in Southeast Asia had grown progressively intense,
and Dec. 2, 1966, became known as "Black Friday" when
the Air Force lost five aircraft and the Navy three to SAMs or
anti-aircraft fire. Air Force losses included three F-4Cs, one
RF-4C, and an F-105. The Navy lost one F-4B and two Douglas A-4C
Skyhawks.
These ground-fire losses were accompanied by the marked increase
in MiG activity during the last quarter of 1966. Because the
rules of engagement prohibited airfield attacks, the men of the
8th Tactical Fighter Wing were determined to blunt the enemy's
efforts by luring the MiGs into air-to-air combat and then destroying
them.
The reluctance of the MiG-21s to engage did not mean that
the North Vietnamese pilots were lacking in either courage or
skill. At the time, the US estimated that there were only 16
MiG-21s in the theater, and the enemy had to employ them selectively
to maximize their utility.
The New Boy
Brig. Gen. Robin Olds, USAF (Ret.), recalls himself as the
proverbial "new boy on the block" with the 8th TFW,
as yet unproven in the jet air war of Southeast Asia. When he
arrived at Ubon RTAB, Thailand, as a colonel, to assume command
of the Wolfpack on Sept. 30, 1966, Olds, who was 44 and stood
six feet two, struck some as more the Hollywood concept of a
combat commander than an Air Force regular officer. This was,
at least in part, because he was married not to the girl next
door but to film star Ella Raines.
Son of Maj. Gen. Robert Olds, one of the most influential
generals in the Army Air Corps, the new commander of the 8th
was a World War II ace. Olds would later remark that he never
flew one mission over Germany that was as tough as any mission
over Hanoi.
Olds' war-ace status was marred somewhat by a reputation for
being a maverick. Olds had often argued forcefully against contemporary
Air Force training. He was an outspoken advocate of intensive
training in the arts of war he learned in Europe. Unable to wangle
his way into the Korean conflict, he had continued to press for
training in strafing, dive-bombing, and other conventional warfare
techniques at a time when US fighters were being adapted to carry
nuclear weapons and fight a nuclear war. His advice, though not
well received, was a realistic forecast of what would be required
for war in Southeast Asia.
Olds knew he would have to prove himself to the combat-hardened
veterans of the 8th as a leader in their war. He wished to use
his past beliefs in a plan that would confirm his present status.
He had first presented his idea for a MiG ambush to Gen. Hunter
Harris Jr., Pacific Air Forces commander. Harris ignored him.
Olds next went to the commander of 7th Air Force, Gen. William
W. "Spike" Momyer. It was in early December 1966, at
a cocktail party in the Philippines, that Olds edged next to
Momyer. After a few polite remarks, Olds said, "Sir, the
MiGs are getting pesky" and went on to describe ways to
bring them to battle. Momyer's expression of deep disinterest
didn't change. He moved away, leaving Olds with the uncomfortable
impression that he had blown a good opportunity.
He Listened
However, Momyer had listened after all, and a week after their
conversation, Olds was called to Saigon to discuss the concept
of tricking the MiGs into combat. Momyer told Olds to develop
a plan, one that specifically excluded attacks on North Vietnamese
airfields for political reasons.
By Dec. 13, Olds was working closely with four top veterans
of the 8th, striving to develop his idea. In brief, the concept
called for F-4s to simulate F-105s, and Olds gave his planners
specific guidelines to work by. Central to the concept was that,
while no North Vietnamese airfields could be attacked, the MiGs
would be prevented from landing; flights of Phantoms would orbit
above the airfields, cutting off MiG escape routes to China.
Olds hoped either to engage the MiGs in combat and destroy them
or to simply run them out of fuel by denying them access to their
airfields.
The planning group included Capt. John B. Stone, Lt. Joe Hicks,
Lt. Ralph F. Wetterhahn, and Maj. James D. Covington, a wing
staff officer. They worked under the tightest security; those
aircrews that would fly the missions were themselves not briefed
until Dec. 30.
It was a perfect combination-Olds providing the overview and
the major decision elements, and the younger officers, more experienced
in the theater, breathing life into a concept. The team worked
long hours to develop key details on force structure, refueling
points, and altitudes, ingress and egress routes, radio communications,
flak suppression, electronic countermeasures, and all the other
details the mission required.
The planners determined that, if the MiGs engaged in combat,
their endurance from takeoff to landing would extend only for
about 55 minutes. F-4 flight arrival times were set five minutes
apart to ensure maximum opportunities for engagement. The group
planned for a concerted strike by a "west force" of
seven flights of F-4Cs from the 8th at Ubon and an "east
force" made up of five flights of F-4Cs from the 366th TFW
at Da Nang AB, South Vietnam.
Everything hinged on getting the MiGs airborne, where they
could be destroyed. Luring the MiGs into battle would not be
easy, for the communists often declined to attack if they thought
the weather would seriously impair the bombing accuracy of US
attacking aircraft. The North Vietnamese had many advantages.
All of the targets were in the midst of the most heavily integrated
air defense system then in existence. Their geography and the
onerous rules of engagement under which American forces operated
had severely reduced the F-105s' options in Rolling Thunder missions.
The number of approach routes was limited, as were the targets
permitted to be attacked.
The Pod Deception
Olds took these factors into account and called for a plan
that depended upon a basic deception. The strike force would
imitate the route, speed, and radio chatter of a normal F-105
mission. However, the force would comprise not bomb-laden Thuds
but rather F-4Cs, each armed with four AIM-7E Sparrows and four
AIM-9B Sidewinders. Maj. Gen. Donavon F. Smith, chief of the
Air Force Advisory Group in Vietnam, suggested the Phantoms carry
the QRC-160 electronic countermeasures pod that the Thuds had
been carrying.
Simply acquiring the necessary QRC-160 pods was a logistic
effort that extended all over Southeast Asia and all the way
back to the United States. It was the first of a series of events
that engaged many disparate elements of the Air Force.
Also at play was another factor, one that Olds hoped would
be the key factor in success. The first three flights entering
the combat area would have "missile free" firing options.
For a few precious minutes, the Americans would know exactly
where all friendly aircraft were. Any other aircraft could be
assumed to be hostile and be fired upon without visual identification.
This gave many advantages, including surprise, isolation from
counterfire, and, most of all, time to let the missile do what
it was designed to do under the most favorable conditions, without
excessive g forces to trouble the missile systems.
On Dec. 22, Olds briefed Momyer in Saigon. The commanding
general accepted the plan without a change. Execution was set
for Jan. 2, 1967. The force would contain 96 fighters-56 F-4Cs,
24 F-105s, and 16 F-104s. The force also would include KC-135
tankers, EB-66s electronic countermeasuresupport aircraft,
EC-121 Big Eye surveillance aircraft, and rescue forces.
Eight days after briefing Momyer, Olds canceled all leaves
at the 8th TFW and postponed the New Year's Eve party. Then,
bad weather moved in, and it was obvious that the mission would
not be flown on Jan. 1. Most thought it probably would not occur
on Jan. 2, either. The party was reinstated for the evening of
Jan. 1-a mistake, for soon the mission was reset for the morning
of Jan. 2. Olds agreed to go forward, despite the probability
of bad weather, because the QRC-160 pods were "on loan"
to him for only seven days.
Normally, the computers at 7th Air Force developed the code
words assigned to flights, targets, and routes. Because timing
was so critical, however, code terms for Operation Bolo were
carefully picked. The Wolfpack flights were given the names of
cars, with mission commander Olds leading Olds Flight. (Olds
was dismayed by this; he felt that the flights should have been
given names similar to those used by the F-105 flights. In his
pre-mission briefing he told his pilots to use first names for
their radio calls.) MiG base locations were identified by the
names of US cities. Phuc Yen, northwest of Hanoi, was called
"Frisco," while Gia Lam, south of Phuc Yen, was "Los
Angeles."
Distillation
It had required a massive Air Forcewide effort to bring
Bolo into being. The entire 8th TFW's energy was thrown into
overcoming last minute problems, with the support troops working
all night long. (A typical glitch involved the sway braces on
the F-4C. They were located differently than on the F-105, and
the shell of the QRC-160 pod had to be reinforced in order to
fit well.) However, as the aircraft rolled for takeoff, the long
days of nonstop planning, the assembly of resources, the intense
training of munitions crews, crew chiefs, pilots, and backseaters
now began to condense into a 13-minute dogfight. The historic
battle would be fought in a slice of sky that ranged from 10,000
to 18,000 feet in altitude and within a 15-mile radius of Phuc
Yen airfield.
Olds carefully emulated the F-105 flight profile, flying a
fluid-four formation at 480 knots until reaching the Red River.
At that point, he accelerated to 540 knots and assumed the QRC-160
pod formation. This was similar to the standard fluid four but
with a separation of about 1,500 feet. The aircraft would weave
up and down, and the combined effect of the pods was to jam the
enemy acquisition radar.
The force maintained this Thud feint for a full three minutes
after the Olds Flight arrived at its target. By that time, Olds
expected the North Vietnamese to have realized what they were
dealing with. Olds arrived over Phuc Yen at 1400 Zulu, exactly
on schedule, but he was disconcerted to find that the MiGs were
not airborne. There was a complete undercast, with tops at about
7,000 feet, and the communist ground controllers had delayed
the MiG takeoffs by about 15 minutes. Olds had no way of knowing
this and had to contemplate calling the mission off for the inbound
flights.
He passed over Phuc Yen airfield to the southeast and then
made a 180-degree turn to the northwest. The first sign of enemy
activity proved sterile as Olds 3 picked up and then lost a bogie
moving swiftly in the opposite direction. Knowing that Ford Flight,
led by his longtime friend Col. Daniel "Chappie" James
Jr., was due over the target, Olds now canceled the missile-free
option and made another 180-degree turn.
Ford Flight burst into the battle area exactly on time and
simultaneously with the first appearance of MiG-21s popping up
out of the undercast. Ford 1 called out a MiG-21 closing on Olds
Flight. Olds turned to throw off the MiG's aim and attacked another
MiG that appeared in his 11 o'clock position, low and a little
over a mile away.
First Trip
It was Olds' first trip to the Hanoi area, and his first engagement
with a MiG. With his backseater, Lt. Charles Clifton, he set
up for a Sparrow attack as he closed to get positive identification.
When he saw the silver delta shape of the MiG he fired two Sparrows
and a Sidewinder-but none of them guided. Olds sighted another
MiG-they were appearing everywhere now-and used the Phantom's
power and energy to vector roll behind it. This time he fired
two Sidewinders and the first one made impact, blowing the MiG-21's
right wing off and scoring the first of the MiG kills. The pilot
did not eject.
Wetterhahn, one of the key planners, had been disappointed
to be flying as Olds 2, but in the course of Olds' attack he
was able to slide behind a MiG-21. Working with his GIB (the
Guy In Back), 1st Lt. Jerry K. Sharp, he salvoed two Sparrows.
They lost sight of the first one, but the second Sparrow caught
the MiG just forward of its stabilizer and blew it up. Two down.
Olds 4, flown by Capt. Walter S. Radeker III, with 1st Lt.
James E. Murray III in the back, saw a MiG-21 tracking Olds 3.
Radeker experienced some difficulty getting a solid tone on his
Sidewinder before firing, yet the missile guided perfectly, striking
just forward of the MiG's tail and sending it spinning into the
undercast. Three down.
The next MiG fell to Capt. Everett T. Raspberry and 1st Lt.
Robert W. Western in Ford 2. Two MiGs had closed on Ford 3 and
4, overshot, then pressed an attack on Chappie James in Ford
1, overshooting him as well. The MiG broke into a hard left turn,
and Raspberry rolled to wind up at the MiG's six o'clock position.
He fired a Sidewinder that guided up the MiG's tailpipe, blowing
it up. Four down.
Rambler Flight had arrived exactly on time, to find itself
in the midst of the MiG melee. One of the most important of the
planners, Stone, was the Wolfpack's tactics officer. He was flying
with Lt. Clifton P. Dunnegan Jr., as the backseater. Over Phuc
Yen, Stone picked up two MiGs, 4,000 feet below and two miles
away. Uncertain of his lock-on, Stone fired three Sparrows. The
second missile struck the MiG's wing root, and the pilot ejected.
Five down.
Two young first lieutenants, Lawrence J. Glynn Jr. and Lawrence
E. Cary, in Rambler 2 had been on Rambler lead's wing all through
its combat maneuvers. Just after Rambler 1 scored, Glynn locked
on to a MiG-21 and fired two Sparrows. The second missile hit
the MiG in its wing root, the debris damaging Rambler 2 slightly.
The enemy pilot ejected and Glynn saw his parachute open. Six
down.
Maj. Phil Combies in Rambler 4 was flying with Lt. Lee Dutton
in the backseat. After Dutton had locked on to a MiG-21, Combies
tracked a fighter carefully, pulling no more than 4g's, and fired
two Sparrows. He didn't observe the first missile at all but
was able to track the second from launch to impact. It struck
in the tail section. So swiftly did the parachute appear that
Combies later speculated that the pilot must have ejected when
he saw the missile coming.
That made seven MiG-21s down. It was the final confirmed victory
of the day.
Combies and Dutton had latched on to a second MiG and had
fired four Sidewinders. They saw the first two detonate just
below the enemy's tailpipe, with the last two tracking well,
but then they had to break hard right when they heard "F-4C,
I don't know your call sign, but break right." The message
was intended for Stone, but the break caused Rambler 4 to claim
only a probable. (Maj. Herman L. Knapp in Rambler 3 also claimed
a probable.)
It's Over
Suddenly, the MiGs were gone, and the four remaining Wolfpack
flights (Lincoln, Tempest, Plymouth, and Vespa) arrived to find
the action was over. The 366th, out of Da Nang, had flown up
the coast to a point off Haiphong, evaluated the weather, and
elected not to participate in the western part of the mission.
Operation Bolo was over.
Seventh Air Force was elated with the Wolfpack's results.
Twelve F-4Cs had engaged 14 MiGs and shot down seven, with no
losses. It is worth noting that of the 14 crew members who scored
victories, only one, Glynn, had ever seen a MiG in air combat
before. (Olds had seen MiGs at a distance.) The Phantom crews,
despite their relative inexperience in combat and their lack
of dissimilar aircraft combat training, used vertical maneuvers
to put themselves in firing position.
For dogfighting, the F-4C proved clearly superior to the MiG-21,
and the AIM-7E Sparrow and AIM-9B Sidewinder proved to be highly
effective weapons. Only 10 Phantoms had fired their missiles.
Eighteen Sparrows had been launched; of these, only nine guided,
but these nailed four MiGs. Twelve Sidewinders were launched,
seven guided correctly, and they destroyed three MiGs.
The QRC-160 ECM pods had apparently worked very well, although
the presence of MiGs in the combat area undoubtedly inhibited
both missile and anti-aircraft fire. Only five SAMs were spotted
and a light burst of 85 mm anti-aircraft fire seemed to be aimed
at random.
The battle proved beyond doubt the importance of the largely
unsung GIB, the backseaters, who locked the radar on the target
and who, despite the continuously changing g forces, kept their
heads on a swivel watching out for enemy aircraft and SAMs.
Finally, the battle proved Olds to his men. He made sure that
all who participated in Operation Bolo, whether in the air or
on the ground, were given full credit for their contributions.
The general effect of Bolo on Air Force morale was positive,
in Southeast Asia and the US.
There was a postscript. The MiG force had retaliated by attacking
an Air Force RF-4 reconnaissance airplane, and this inspired
7th Air Force planners to use another deception.
Two F-4Cs, fully armed, were to fly in close formation so
that they would appear as a single blip. They flew a mission
as a reconnaissance aircraft would on Jan. 5, without any enemy
reaction. They did it again on Jan. 6 and were rewarded by being
bounced by four MiGs. The F-4Cs shot down two of the North Vietnamese
aircraft, meaning that nine of the 16 MiG-21s had been shot down.
The MiG-21s went through a three-month stand-down, during which
both sides studied the lessons of the battle.
Walter J. Boyne, former director of the
National Air and Space Museum in Washington, is a retired Air
Force colonel and author. He has written more than 400 articles
about aviation topics and 29 books, one of which is Beyond the
Wild Blue: A History of the United States Air Force, 1947-1997.
His most recent article for Air Force Magazine,
"The
Easter Halt," appeared in the September 1998 issue.