Come Up and Get Me: An Autobiography of Colonel Joe Kittinger by Ryan Craig & Kittinger Joe & Armstrong Neil

Author:Ryan, Craig & Kittinger, Joe & Armstrong, Neil [Ryan, Craig]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Vietnam War, Balloon, Air Force, Officers, North Vietnamese, Balloonist, Prison, Prisoner, Military, Prisoner of War, United States Air Force
ISBN: 9780826348050
Publisher: University of New Mexico Press
Published: 2011-05-03T16:00:00+00:00

In the meantime, I had lost both my generators and had to use my battery, aware that it would run down pretty quickly. I had no hydraulic power and was leaking hydraulic fluid from both engines. I could see damage to both engine cowlings. When I was established on the route back to NKP, I saw a massive thunderstorm between me and my destination. I made the decision to divert to Ubon, an F-4 fighter base about 80 miles south of NKP on the Mekong. It was completely dark by the time the battery quit. My navigator, who had done a bang-up job during the emergency, had to hold a flashlight on my instrument panel so I could see what I was doing. The night was absolutely black. We had no navigation instrumentation, no lights, no radio, no hydraulics, no transponder. We were flying in and out of the overcast, holding a compass heading to the base, when we suddenly had a break in the clouds. I looked down and saw the Mekong and the town of Ubon. I knew we were almost there.

I had no way to alert anybody at Ubon that we were coming in. We watched for returning F-4s and dropped down toward the runway in the pouring rain. About one mile out, on final approach, we extended the landing gear with the emergency system. Without electric power, we couldn’t be sure the gear was down and locked. Without hydraulics or lights, with no flaps, we came in hot and practically invisible in the downpour. I had to use the emergency brakes but managed to get us slowed down and off the active runway. The guys in the tower told us later that they never had a clue an A-26 was even in the vicinity until they heard our tires hit the runway. When the fire and crash personnel got out to us, I asked for a gun crew because we had hot guns and some ordnance left in the bomb bay. I offered to assist them in downloading the guns, but the sergeant told us not to worry. “I know how to download .50-calibers,” he said a little sarcastically.

My navigator and I proceeded to the officers’ club. I bought the first four martinis. It was sometime after the fifth one arrived that I got a call from the gun-crew chief. He wanted us to return to the flight line and help them download the guns. I guess the job turned out to be a little trickier than he’d suspected. We had volunteered to help, he’d turned us down, and now—after five martinis, or was it six?—I sent word that we were no longer available. I suggested he call our gun shop at NKP and ask for help there. It had been one hell of a mission and a very close call. I made it thanks to an awful tough airplane, a damn good navigator, and a generous portion of my trademark good luck.

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