“7 High”

Recollections of a Combat Defense Squadron “Ramp Rat”

Chapter 9.1

“Quiniela”

A1C Marston original Kodachrome.

La Feria, Sevilla, 1965

24 January 1965, I won the Spanish football lottery, the Quiniela!!! This was huge! This could mean a six figure payoff, in dollars. The previous week the winner received a payoff more than a million dollars. The size of the payoff varied, depending on how many shared the prize. We started making plans for what to do with a million dollars. Myself, I was thinking Jaguar XK-E, for a quick treat.

The Quiniela is the Spanish futbol lottery. Many of my fellow CDS troops at work were in the habit of comparing notes and filling out Quiniela tickets at work. The goal is to pick all the winners in the selected games for the week. I didn’t know what I was doing, but they got me started making my picks every week. Once the ticket was filled out, it was taken to the official seller to have stamps attached certifying that the fee had been paid.

This is a 1062 version of the ticket.

To my knowledge, we have nothing like it in the USA. It is hard to believe, but back in the 60’s there was no gambling in America, except for Nevada. So, the lottery ticket sellers and the Quiniela was a total mystery to us. Someone on the flight introduced me to the game; it was so cheap that I started playing with them, sometimes being the designated ticket runner. I knew little about Spanish futbol, the chances of my picking the outcomes correctly in sixteen games (fourteen plus two reserves) was the equivalent of lightning striking. It was sheer luck. 1965 was looking to be a lucky year.

The ticket has changed a little, but it is still a very good game. More fun than the lottery, because there is something to figure out, like a horse race. A ticket is €1.5, you must play at least two lines, with the fifteenth game shared between them. Here is an example of the kind of pay out we were expecting. One difference to note is that Home teams are on the left and designated 1, just the opposite of the USA. Visitors are on the right and designated 2. “X” indicates a draw.

2010/11 Week 28 payout

A million and a half, is still a respectable payday. This is what we were expecting. I was really looking forward to doing the commute to Morón in my new red XKE, that would impress the troops. The Air Force could kiss my ass, I could do the rest of my time standing on my head, and all I would have to do was stay out of jail.

The next day was also a day of celebration that I had been looking forward to for six months. I was overjoyed to be getting my Spanish drivers license back.

25 January 1965, Monday, the Tiger drove us to San Pablo AB to pick up my re-instated Spanish drivers license. My joy was tempered somewhat when I discovered that one of the airmen at the San Pablo Air Police office had also picked all winners on the Quiniela. As we compared notes, we both had a sinking feeling. It was not a good sign that we were going to have to split the winnings.

Driving home from San Pablo, the Tiger and I decided that given the reduced winnings, the Mercedes sport convertible would be a better choice than the XKE, what with the family and all. I could live with that.

We waited on pins and needles for the time I could take my winning ticket to the lottery office to get paid. First, we had to present out winning ticket, then was several weeks before the amounts were calculated and our pay out was ready. We had to go back to the lottery office several times. The office was located in the old part of the city and there was no parking in the area at all. They were open for a very short time, and everything had to be just so. They didn’t seem especially happy to be giving out any dough, especially to rico Americanos.

If only it could have been the week before that our lightning hit, we would have been rich. I knew nothing about the teams, I just filled out my tickets by scuttlebutt and guessing. I missed the lightning by a week.

There was to be no million dollars. All those plans to be the richest Air Policeman in the world dissolved in a puff of reality. When we finally got paid, it was 51 mil; 51,000 pesetas, about $850 US. There had been a lot of winners that week.

My big win so far in the 2010/11 season is week 36, where I hit 11, and the payoffs look similar. It is fun to play and if anyone figures out how to get paid in the USA, drop me a line. Here is the link to El Gordo:

http://www.elgordo.com/shop/shopquinien.asp

It was a big let down, but $850 of found money was better than a kick in the teeth. We determined that since we had banked the re-up bonus, we should put this to good use.

One of the first things we purchased with our winnings; a guidebook; “Europe on 5 Dollars a Day,” by Arthur Frommer.

In 2007 Frommer’s published this facsimile edition of the original.

While drafted and serving in Germany, Pfc Frommer first wrote this as “The GIs Guide to Europe”. He then self published It as “Europe on five dollars a day” in 1957. This slim volume had fattened up by 1965, with excellent recommendations for low cost travelling, listing hotels, hostels, restaurants and camp grounds.

Mr. Frommer was the earliest advocate of cheap travel, pointing out that it was a much better travel experience than those traveling with money. Here is a little excerpt.

“Across the street from Terminal Station in Rome, for instance, stand five great continental hotels. These are the “name” establishments to which all the travel books and vacation pamphlets direct the American tourist. They attract no one else. Walk into one of these spots on a summer night in Rome, and you might just as well have never left home. English fills the air. Bridge games go on in the lobby. For $20 a day in the Eternal City, you have bought the equivalent of a legion convention in Detroit.”

“Three blocks away, of course, are a host of smaller Italian hotels—uncrowded, quiet and inexpensive. These are the lodgings patronized by European tourists, who find rooms within them, clean and comfortable rooms, for prices ranging around $2 a night. Americans never hear of them. Because most guidebooks assume that every American carries with him gunny sacks of gold, Americans continue to crowd into the least satisfying hotels in Rome, while Europeans vacation comfortably at one-tenth the price, just three blocks away.”

“Europe on five dollars a day” didn’t use much ink on tourist attractions, but concentrated on budget travel, “…The items to be had for these cut-rate costs are surprising in their quality. $5 a day is no mere survival budget; no one expects you to eat picnic lunches or sleep in a tent. The recommendations set forth in this book are intended to provide for normal vacation living; tasty and filling restaurant meals, clean and comfortable hotel beds.”

This played right into our pocketbook. We planned on taking his advice whenever possible. Plus, we WOULD sleep in a tent and eat picnic lunches, whenever possible.

Studying the guidebook and Michelin maps, we started planning a road trip. I started making improvements to our VW. We were never going to get another opportunity like this to see Europe.

Now that I had my license back, I figured that I would be doing a lot of driving to pay back the guys that had been giving me rides. One of the first mornings I drove, we were about 10 miles short of the base, when the VW sputtered. I reached down to flip the lever to fuel reserve and discovered to my horror that it was already there. The Tiger had flipped the lever and forgotten about it. The VW coughed and died about 10 miles short of the base.

SSgt Mahac was disgusted as we had to get out in the rain and push the VW to where we could get it off the road a bit. We were freshly ironed, starched and polished, ready for guardmount. My credibility with the car pool dropped to a new low.

It wasn’t long before another car on the way to the base stopped and helped us out with some gas. There was a gas station on base, an amenity that Zaragoza lacked. I don’t remember selling CAMPSA coupons while at MAB. I must have paid my way in the car pool with them.

The windshield wipers on the VW were poor and the 1960 model didn’t have squirters. Mud thrown up by trucks smeared back and forth on the windshield. The hard rubber Spanish Firestone tires on the VW didn’t wear out, but had poor traction, especially on wet cobblestones. Also, my driving made SSgt Machac nervous. He rode shotgun and coached. I wasn’t going to be driving as much as I had thought, but just took my normal turn in rotation.

Using some more of the Quiniela winnings, I bought a real camera at the Morón AFEX, a 35mm Voigtländer. It was a viewfinder camera, but it had a built in light meter and range finding system.

http://www.camerapedia.org/wiki/Vito_C

It was not an SLR, not a focal plane shutter, but a very competent little camera. As I was leaving, the BX, parked outside the Morón AFEX I saw my first Mustang in the wild. It was a red two plus two like this one. Shazam!

the Ford Mustang

I was car enthused, and read magazines, and had seen photos and reviews. It was good looking, but I hadn’t even considered buying an American car when I thought I was rich. They didn’t hold up well in Europe. Also, there were dealers in the states that advertised for GIs to bring back expensive foreign cars and they would trade you for a new American car and extra cash at the dock. Kardon Chevrolet, in New Jersey, was one of the dealers that were particularly aggressive in advertising this deal.

At the Morón BX, I also purchased up my first rolls of 35mm Kodachrome film. I had run plenty of 8mm Kodachrome through my movie camera, but except for Central Valley High’s camera, 35mm was a new format for me, and I was excited about it. Kodachrome even had choices in the 35mm format.

Since I was going to be shooting strictly available light, I preferred the Kodachrome-X, ASA 64, over Kodachrome-II at ASA 25. The film I purchased then is still around today. The photo at the top of this chapter is one fine example of the quality and longevity of Kodachrome. As you would expect, Kodachrome has been discontinued, like many other fine Eastman products. With the constantly improving quality of digital it has been impossible to compete with film in a cost effective manner.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kodachrome

The biggest disadvantage with Kodachrome was that the processing was too sophisticated to be accomplished by an amateur in a small lab. After exposing each roll, I mailed it off to 925 Page Mill Road, Palo Alto, California, an address I still remember. A yellow Eastman processing envelope was purchased from the BX. The addresses had to be filled in by hand. I was to fill out dozens of these envelopes and drop them in mailboxes all over the continent.

At 925 Page Mill Road the film was processed, mounted in cardboard frames, and mailed to our APO address. Every one of those shots went to the other side of the world and back, by snail mail, before I got to see if it was underexposed. Compare that with digital photography.

http://www.creativepro.com/article/heavy-metal-madness-im-looking-through-you-where-did-you-go

***last roll of Kodachrome to be processed at Dwayne’s photo early 2011. The last rolls of film are being shot right now, in January.

http://www.kansascity.com/2011/01/08/2570383/in-kansas-town-kodachromes-last.html

***Photo of an original slide. Try on light table.

It wasn’t long before we needed a projector. Word had it that the elusive Eastman Carousel projector that the AFEX didn’t carry, could be found in the exchange at Naval Station Rota. That was more than enough justification for a road trip. I’m sorry that my memory doesn’t include who went with, but he was the one with a friendly connection at Rota.

The Holland tending the fleet at Rota
(Photo courtesy Bob Tripp, LCDR Admin LDO, ex-YNC(SS)).

http://www.tendertale.com/tenders/132/132.html

The USS Holland (AS-32) was the sub tender assigned to Rota. We had a tour of the Holland. It was a long walk out the pier. Holland had a huge machine shop aboard. I think our guide told us they could build a submarine from scratch in there, it looked big enough. It was a good tour and then the long hike back on the pier, those Holland swabs had to have good legs.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naval_Station_Rota,_Spain

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USS_Holland_%28AS-32%29

Then there was a stop at the Petty Officer’s Club, called the “Acey-Ducey Club”. It was a very nice club, but I was cautioned about playing cards with the inhabitants. We made it to the Navy exchange just before closing, and I purchased my first Kodak carousel projector and that first tray. I still have that tray and two newer model carousel projectors. Relics but they still work fine.

26 February 1965 USAF Boeing B-47E Stratojet, 52-0171, collides with Boeing KC-135A Stratotanker, 63-8882, during midair refuelling 410 mi. SSE of Ernest Harmon AFB, Newfoundland, both aircraft lost.^[134]

8 March 1965 - Vietnam War: Some 3,500 United States Marines arrive in South Vietnam, becoming the first American combat troops in Vietnam. There were photos of the Marines wading ashore to protect Da Nang AB in the Stars and Stripes.

We thought that this would be the end to incidents like Bien Hoa the previous November, where the air base had been mortared with impunity, and started the rumors swirling. The troops were watching as closely as we could via AFRS and the Stars and Stripes.

General Westmoreland soon set the record straight. “I expect that our combat battalions will be used primarily to go after the VC and that we will not be forced to expend our capabilities simply to protect ourselves…Therefore, all forces of whatever service who find themselves operating without infantry protection… will be organized, trained and exercised to perform the defense and security functions.”
(Air Base Defense in the Republic of Vietnam, 1961-1973, by Roger P. Cox, 1979; page 11.)

What we were hearing from this was that the Air Police were going to be left to defend the air bases from the inside. We had all heard how well that worked in Korea. Now in Viet Nam, it appeared the army had officially hung us out do dry, as Westmoreland was in charge of the whole show. I didn’t like the idea of having a ground pounder in charge of air force troops. I certainly didn’t want to work for one.

As it was, SSgt Miller had B Flight; he was an old Army ground pounder. That was bad enough. Working with Bill I heard his Korean war stories firsthand. At work, it was the same old routine, uploads, downloads, reflex turnarounds, business as usual. The simulated games went on nearly every shift, but air base defense was not really taken seriously. I don’t recall there ever being an exercise with simulated mortar rounds landing in the alert area, like Bein Hoa AB, we had no defense for that.

While this might have been considered a good calculated risk in Franco’s Spain, it obviously wasn’t working out well in Vietnam.

I was carrying the Europe guidebook and maps to work; for those slack periods when I could study up a plan for a trip around Europe. Inside CSC, work could be either boring or hectic. When things were slow, I would beg to get out of the office.

That usually meant a strike team. Three guys in a worn out pickup truck with a single channel tube type VHF radio. The bulk of the radio was in the bed of the truck with only a control head mounted on the dashboard somewhere. It was considered a “non-tactical” radio by the air force.

Most of our vehicles were blessed with the combat defense force sign above the cab. These signs interfered with the bubble gum machine emergency light so that it couldn’t be seen from the rear. Worse, placing a sheet metal sign above the cab blocked the radio antenna. After much complaining, the size of the signs was reduced, but they were still a problem. It would be interesting to know the politics of those damn signs. Who’s pet idea was this?

Airmen Kosa(L) and Santos demonstrate the abbreviated version of the sign at Morón.

This photo from Zaragoza shows the larger signs.

Whoever designed those signs, and it must have been SAC wide, what ever their obvious other problems, didn’t understand radio at all. Instead of sheet metal, they might have considered plywood or fiberglass. No signs at all would have been much better. When we saw on of these vehicles with the sign it indicated that it wouldn’t be anybody important.

Besides blocking the emergency light, the sheet metal very effectively blocked all radio signals to the rear of the vehicle from the antenna mounted on the cab roof. This had some interesting side effects.

Whenever the comm/plotter heard a weak signal that he couldn’t pick up, the typical response would be to “unit calling; point your vehicle at the water tower and try again”. Although the base antenna wasn’t actually on the water tower, it probably should have been. The central tower was behind the fire station, which was directly across from alert area #1, about midbase.

I found myself constantly telling Miller to point his vehicle at the water tower. He had trouble remembering this when he was trying to do something stressful, like designate the location for the command post vehicle during a broken arrow exercise.

Another consideration was, if you had dispatched a strike team so that they had the back of their vehicle toward the water tower, once you sent them there was no way to get them back once they got rolling. What with all the noise of the vehicle and the banging of that sheet metal sign flopping around overhead, there was little chance they would be able to hear the radio anyway.

The Spanish guys that worked on the radios would come on the air, “Radio Maintenance calling Security Control for radio checks”. This sometimes verged on the hilarious. I liked to answer them conversationally in Spanish, “Hola. Buenas tardes. Este bien. Como aquí?” Miller threatened to make my ass grass and himself a lawnmower, or some other old army curse, if I didn’t knock that shit off.

There were certain members of the flight that would get on the air, imitating radio maintenance. After a person had been comm/plotting for a while, he could recognize individual vehicles on the air by the way the radio sounded. They all had their own radio signature. The wise asses didn’t get me to fall for that one.

Looking back on it now, I wonder how they tested the radios in Zaragoza? Could it be that they were higher tech in the north? Morón is the only place I ever remember radio maintenance firing up on the AP channel.

The vehicles were worn out and unreliable just like the radios. You put GIs driving a vehicle 24 hours a day, and 1 year equals ten years of civilian use. Some of the vehicles had notices posted in them that they had exceeded allowed repair costs and no more repairs would be performed by the motor pool. The squadron had one guy assigned to try and keep them running.

One swing shift I was assigned as radio operator on the strike team. We were driving a Dodge crew cab power wagon. I have a photo of that vehicle. At least one defect is visible from here, a parking light out. You can be sure it had many more write-ups. Notice the three covered flags sticking up. One indicated “7 High”, another “Redskin” and the last, “Broken Arrow”

As you can tell from the photos, we seldom had two vehicles alike. This must have been a nuisance for the motor pool. It would have been much handier to have a fleet of one brand. It gave us a chance to be consumer experts on the different brands and models of pickup trucks. The power wagons all had the slant six with four on the floor; mechanically they were pretty much indestructible. It was just that the outside parts had a tendency to fall off.

On swing shift we could expect Miller would pull a couple of problems. “Stimulated extersizes”, was what Machac called them. One of the favorites was to wait until it was dark and then drop an “unauthorized individual” in a restricted area and see how long it took him to get caught. The perpetrators were often members of the flight.

We weren’t surprised when the call came from CSC. There was a “7 High”; an unidentified individual had been spotted in alert area #1.

At Morón the access point at alert area #1 had a bell affixed to the rafters that the sentry could ring to alert the aircraft guards that something was up.

Morón AB, Alert Area #1 Access, note the bell.

Even though it was dark, we had to stop while the “cover” man climbed out and pulled the sleeve off the “7 High” pennant, blue with white letters. The team leader turned on the gum ball light, I told CSC we were responding, and we headed to where the aircraft sentry had an individual spread eagle on the ramp in front of a B-47. Pulling up short, so that our headlights illuminated the scene, the team leader and cover man deployed, leaving the vehicle running with the hand brake set, to power the lights and radio. I stepped out behind the open passenger door with the radio mike and grabbed my carbine from under the seat.

We discovered that our perpetrator was the legendary Otto Kosa. The team leader had him get up off the ramp, and directed him to assume the position on the front of the power wagon. You might know it would never be that easy to apprehend Kosa.

Kosa approached the vehicle on a run with his hands in the air and hit the hood of that power wagon with a bang. He gave a mighty heave and the vehicle started rolling backwards across the ramp with the emergency brake set. Kosa kept pushing the vehicle while the team leader watched astonished. No one was in any position to stop the vehicle, and I was about to get run over by the open door.

I threw myself back into the vehicle headfirst and tried to twist around and slide across the gearshift, 4wd levers and hump. I was stabbing for the brake pedal with one leg, juggling my carbine twisted with the shift lever, and the curl cord of the radio microphone.

Kosa was pushing the vehicle backwards down the ramp, making pretty good speed, with the team leader and cover man in pursuit. The team leader was futilely yelling “Halt” at Kosa. CSC was calling on the radio wanting to know what was happening. I was trying to get enough leverage on the brakes to get the vehicle stopped. Still holding the mic, I began giving the situation report to CSC, that the suspect had hijacked our vehicle. While reporting this Keystone Cops scenario, I cracked up.

Miller broke in on the radio immediately terminating the exercise and wanting to know; “who was the little girl giggling on the radio?”

The ensuing radio silence was deafening. Our perp, Kosa, was in stitches, he had screwed me again.

Miller was pissed. He was always afraid command would be listening to our frequency. After he finished ranting and raving he made sure I did some punishment time on the ramp.

It must have been about this time that the Spanish F-86 ran out into the mud. It happened on a day shift, and I was in the alert area.

F-86s on the ramp at Morón

The pilot must have gotten lost coming down the taxi way, he almost taxied into the alert area, then ran off into the weeds, where it was nice and soft. He kept on adding power, trying to blast his way out, mud was flying everywhere, but he only dug it in deeper and deeper. The pilot really hated to admit defeat, in true Spanish style, and made a hell of a mess before finally shutting` it down.

Over three day breaks we made several trips to Gibraltar. La Linea, on the border was a story in itself. I still reserve the right to be plied with beer before telling any of those tales.

“The Gib” was a great shopping destination. For us it was a giant duty-free store. Because of a long standing dispute between Spain and England over ownership of the rock, we had to leave our vehicles with Spanish license plates in La Linea. We paid kids to watch them. Our USAF ID cards got us through the border with no questions, in either direction. There is a long standing dispute between Spain and England over ownership of the rock. They didn’t bother Americans at the checkpoint.

Once across the frontier, we boarded a bus that took us across the active runway into downtown Gib. One of the first things we saw was a big billboard that said, “British we are, British we stay!” Another billboard advertised ESSO gasoline. There was no advertising of gas in España, and this display seemed very foreign.

Gibraltar is an interesting place with a lot of history. The rock has miles of tunnels and fortifications inside.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gibraltar

3973^rd CDS.com has an interesting collection of Gibraltar photos. Most of mine are mixed in there too.

https://web.archive.org/web/20140815174549/http://www.3973cds.com/3973cdsGibraltar.php

To defray the costs of these trips we loaded up on tapestries to sell to the TDY troops. They were very popular and incredibly inexpensive. There were many shops selling these things and we bargained hard. I think we paid about $5 US and sold them for considerably more. We ended up with the ones nobody liked on our walls. They were mostly forest scenes if I remember correctly. The Tiger should know, she had some of them hanging in Portland for years.

From the Quiniela winnings, In Gibraltar I purchased a radio and the new larger style taillights for the VW. Installing these in the street at Bami was like gasoline alley. I also started a decal collection of places we had been on the rear windows. At the service station on base at Morón I bought four new tires. Mail order from the states we acquired grey corduroy seat covers.

A shop in Sevilla installed a vinyl imitation leather headliner that looked real nice. The first trip to Morón when I got up to speed the headliner swelled up like a balloon and pushed down on our heads. It was another embarrassing incident with the car pool. I took it back to the shop and they solved the problem by punching holes in the headliner behind the sun visors. It mostly solved the problem; the VW couldn’t get going fast enough to cause it to inflate anymore.

It wasn’t an XKE, but it was clean and paid for.

15 March 1965 I received a letter from the Air Force stating that I had to “forecast” my intentions to personnel by the 25^th of March. We were going to have to make another big decision. They were offering the opportunity to extend at Morón for another year.

I had to report to base personnel with dependents passports and the decision by 25 March. If we elected not to stay we could “apply” for up to a maximum of six SAC bases and one USAF base (this was the chance in hell). “Hq SAC will endeavor to place you at one of your choices, however, where this is not possible, you will be assigned against a valid UMD vacancy existing at the time of consideration (we’re going to do whatever we want).

25 March 1965 we filed the paperwork, making the decision to rotate back to the CONUS. Linda was homesick, and we both longed for the land of the big BX and a “real” bakery with maple bars. I was unhappy with Bami, and our military neighbors.

The times were different, we were really out of touch with our families. Understand that there was no internet. Because of all the Reflex troops, the SAC lines back to the states were impossible to get without a priority. Spanish phones took up to five years for installation, and we wouldn’t have been able to afford overseas calls, at any rate.

Even the MARS (Military Amateur Radio Service) station at Morón wasn’t allowed to handle third party traffic. It occurs to me to wonder what they DID do, with all that lovely Collins equipment. I remember reading a story about the MARS Station at Morón, with pictures. This was the first time it occurred to me that I should have an amateur license myself. What I am trying to say it that we were really cut off from the states, except for snail mail, we really had no means of contact.

So we decided not to extend at Morón. We would use the time we had left in Spain to explore as much as possible.

I don’t have any record of what bases I “applied” for, Bunker Hill and Fairchild would have been on the list. Probably Nellis AFB, outside Las Vegas, for the AF choice, we had heard good things about Nellis, from our friends the Sidhu’s back at ZAB. What the heck; the Quiniela paid off, maybe we would get lucky again.

25 March 1965 - Martin Luther King, Jr. and 25,000 civil rights activists successfully complete a 4-day march from Selma, Alabama, to the capitol in Montgomery.

30 March 1965 the last reflex B-47 departed Morón AB.

Without the TDY personnel, our flights were tiny. C-124s gradually hauled away the nuclear weapons over the next couple of months. Weapons were convoyed from the MMS area to C-124’s parked on the far end of the taxi way, away from other aircraft.

“Hazardous Cargo” C-124 spotted at the end of the taxi way.

Now there were no aircraft to guard except the occasional BUFF. Troops called the B-52 BUFF, for “Big Ugly Fat Fucker”. For us these were Chrome Dome B-52s with full ash trays and the crew wanting a little R&R. The red phone would ring in CSC with the news that a B-52 was declaring an in flight emergency, going through the checklist; time, runway, Souls On Board, nature of the emergency, hazardous cargo. What have I forgotten?

CSC sent the strike team to standby the runway. Usually the flight commander went too, in case it turned into a Broken Arrow, a nuclear accident, he would be responsible for establishing the on scene command post.

The Fire department, Medics, Flight Operations, EOD (Explosives Ordinance Disposal), a host of equipment, and, of course, the brass would be responding to the flight line.

Operation Chrome Dome B-52 recovered at Morón AB

Even if the landing was uneventful, the aircraft would require a sentry for the duration while it was on the ground.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Chrome_Dome

The KC-135 tankers that came through required no special care. As opposed to stateside alert tankers which rated sentries. I don’t know why sentries were not provided at MAB, considering the lack of flight line gates and security.

Alert tanker on the ramp at Morón.

Many days, the C-54 would be the only thing on the ramp. Rumor had it that the 16^th Air Force motto was going be officially changed from “Keep Flexible” to “Party Hard”.

And, the party of the year was just about to start in Sevilla.

11 April 1965 the spring festival begins in Sevilla with “Semana Santa”, Holy Week. There were processions downtown every day. These were religious brotherhoods in the parades. We didn’t understand the symbolism, and some of the costumes seemed a little sinister at first. There was nothing sinister or racist going on, I assure you. It was very much a family affair.

This young man was being encouraged by his mother, visible to the left, with her other children.

The heavy floats, called “pasos” in these processions were not on wheels, but were carried from underneath by many men called “costaleros”. The pasos weigh up to five tons.

Sevilla city police escort.

These floats were so heavy that they could only be carried a short distance before they would need to set it down and stop for a break.

Water break for those carrying.

Also in the processions were penitents, completely covered in black and carrying crosses.

The Spanish Army marching band swung into action wearing German helmets.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holy_Week_in_Seville

17 April 1965 - The first Students for a Democratic Society march against the Vietnam War draws 25,000 protestors to Washington, DC.

26 April 1965 the Feria began in Sevilla. On swing and midnight shift we could see the lights from the base at Morón, nearly 40 miles away. The swing shift could make it downtown in time for the best of the party. At 2am, those outdoor nightclubs were just getting rolling.

A1C Marston available light Kodachrome 64 photo.

On the grounds of the feria, partying was segregated into private casetas. Private, and snobby, a much different attitude than the fiestas we had experienced around Zaragoza. The Morón NCO Club sponsored the American Caseta, so we had someplace to go.

Caseta Americana 1965

There was a carnival set up. Many of the rides were new and strange to us.

My favorite was always the Spanish version of bumper cars. There was no center divider and fixed direction of traffic. Cars that ran on tokens, so there was no need to stop the ride.

The yellow token slot can be seen in front of the steering wheel.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seville_Fair

28 April 1965 North Korea attacks RB-47 over sea of Japan, the shot up aircraft manages to make it back to Yokota AB. .(Body of Secrets p246)

15 May 1965 MATS C-124s were hauling off the last of the weapons used by the Reflex Forces. We provided convoy and aircraft security. Now that the mission was gone, the decision was made to remodel CSC (Central Security Control). The new console was horseshoe shaped, like Zaragoza, and large enough for two controllers. The old tip and ring switchboard was replaced by a modern PBX.

Morón AB Central Security Control 1965.

A1C Marston available light Kodachrome photos.

16 May 1965 at Bien Hoa AB, an accidental explosion aboard a B-57 triggered a series of blasts that killed 27 and injured over 100. Five 50,000 gallon bladders of JP-4 jet fuel went up in smoke. The aircraft toll reached 10 B-57s, 15 A-1Es, and 1 F-8U destroyed. Also demolished were 12 pieces of ground equipment, and 10 vehicles. This was a fine example of the wing tip to wing tip parking scheme the AF was so fond of

19 May 1965 the size of our flights had gone from 33 present for duty to 8. Strike Teams were now only two men. Samples of “B” Flight duty rosters can be seen at: https://web.archive.org/web/20140816002123/http://www.3973cds.com/3973cdsroster.php

SSgt Miller was flight commander and we made trips to the beach near Huelva with the Millers. Photos at: Camping_in_Spain.htm.

1 June 1965 the VC/NVA penetrated Da Nang AB in a combined standoff and sapper raid, destroying three F-102 fighters and three C-130 transports. USMACV policy continued to be to hold the Government of Vietnam to its responsibility for static defense and to take a calculated risk on air base security. This would free U.S. Army forces for offensive operations and thus successfully conclude the war. That was the theory.

14 June 65 I was awarded Airman of the month. I had to type my own submission and the prose was enough to gag a maggot.

18 June 65 “Operation Arc Light” began. Flying out of Andersen Air Force Base, Guam, twenty-seven aircraft used 750 and 1,000 pound bombs to attack a Viet Cong stronghold. During this mission two B-52Fs were lost in a mid-air collision; another was unable to conduct air refueling.

On the very first Operation Arc Light mission flown by Boeing B-52 Stratofortress aircraft of SAC to hit a target in South Vietnam, a total of 30 B-52Fs depart Andersen AFB, Guam just after midnight, flying in ten cells of three aircraft, to hit a suspected Viet Cong stronghold in the Bến Cát District, 40 miles N of Saigon. Unexpected tailwinds from a typhoon cause the bombers to arrive seven minutes early at their refueling point with KC-135 tankers over the South China Sea at a point between South Vietnam and the island of Luzon. The three planes of Green Cell, in the lead, begin a 360 degree turn to make their rendezvous, and in doing so cross the path of Blue Cell and directly towards oncoming Yellow Cell. In the darkness, B-52F 57-0047 and 57-0179, both aircraft of the 441st Bombardment Squadron, 320th Bombardment Wing, Mather AFB, California, but flown by crews assigned to the 20th Bombardment Squadron, 7th Bomb Wing, Carswell AFB, Texas and attached to the 3960th Strategic Wing, Andersen AFB, Guam, collided, killing eight crew, with four survivors, plus one body recovered. The four are located and picked up by an Grumman HU-16A Albatross amphibian, 51-5287, but it is damaged on take-off by a heavy sea state and those on board have to transfer to a Norwegian freighter and a Navy vessel, the Albatross sinking thereafter. Another B-52 loses a hydraulic pump and radar, cannot rendezvous with the tankers and aborts to Okinawa. Twenty-seven Stratofortresses drop on a one-mile by two-mile target box from between 19,000 and 22,000 feet, a little more than 50 percent of the bombs falling within the target zone.^[197] The force returns to Andersen except for one bomber with electrical problems that recovers to Clark AFB, the mission having lasted 13 hours. Post-strike assessment by teams of South Vietnamese troops with American advisors find evidence that the VC had departed the area before the raid, and it is suspected that infiltration of the south's forces have tipped off the north because of the ARVN troops involved in the post-strike inspection.^[198] Note: The Operational Requirements, required the crews and aircraft from two Bombardment Wings and the crews often flew aircraft from the other deployed Bombardment Wing.

22 June 1965 even though the aircraft were gone, we continued to have no notice inspections of both the SAC IG and Operational Readiness inspection (ORI) variety. I don’t remember which type it was we were expecting.

Because of the difficulty of recall from Sevilla, married personnel were not permitted to go home after work when a “No Notice” inspection was imminent. Since we couldn’t go home, we went to the NCO club and collected all the bottles of champagne we had coming for the tour. Since none of the married personnel patronized the Morón NCO Club, we had quite a haul with each of us awarded bottles for all the occasions we had missed over the years. I wasn’t getting out that often and completely forgot why we were there.

The B Flight Bay Chief, our own Otto Kosa, had assigned us rooms in the barracks, but we didn’t retire there until very late. It seemed like only moments later the klaxon was blaring.

23 June 1965 the inspection team arrived, and the klaxon alert went off in the early morning, I for one was still totalled. I fell off the back of the posting truck at CSC. The armorer refused to issue me a weapon. I was posted at the Command Post. I don’t know if I had ever felt worse. I still don’t drink champagne.

When the inspection team came in I pulled my cap down over my eyes and pretended to be asleep. They thought I was a runner, and didn’t notice that they were missing a command post guard.

24 June 1965 the next day, the inspection was still going strong and I was back at the comm/plotters job on day shift. We got through the broken arrow exercise and everything else OK. Miller hated driving the bread truck, a metro van command post vehicle, and setting up on scene. It was very important to be upwind.

At the very end of the inspection, one of the inspectors that had been looking over my shoulder while I was working wanted to see my weapon. That damn .38, he had spotted it. I was caught with an unloaded weapon. Never having been happy with the switch to the combat masterpiece, I had gotten in the habit of “forgetting” to load my weapon while working in the office.

This sharp eyed inspector wanted to see my weapon, and I said, no, sorry, because I was on duty. He said he would have me relieved. He would have had to find a comm/plotter, but Miller piped up and helpfully said that he would relieve me, even though I was frantically signaling him “no no no”. So I had to unholster my weapon and hand it to the inspector. I tried to make out like I was dumping the rounds into my hand, but it didn’t work.

25 June 1965 I received a letter of reprimand for not having my weapon loaded while on duty. I had to make a written response and wanted to put down that I thought the .38 was unsafe, but Miller abused me of any notion of doing anything controversial. I finally put down that I forgot and was sorry and it wouldn’t happen again.

25 June 1965 - A U.S. Air Force C135-A bound for Okinawa crashes just after takeoff at MCAS El Toro in Orange County, California, killing all 85 on board.

8 July 1965 at Commander’s call I was called up on the stage twice. The first was for Airman of the Month, the second for my letter of reprimand. There was a lot more applause the second time.

As troops we hated commander’s call. As married troops that were being kept from their loved ones, we despised staying on base for commander’s call. They were held monthly in the base theater. Motivational speeches were made, and we were chewed and chided and rewarded by several layers of command. When they were worn out, we were then treated to whatever propaganda films were on hand.

As the beautiful Spanish morning was being wasted we were treated to films like this bit of SAC propaganda.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VWiMGbnhUMo

Here are a few other interesting links I’ve found along the way:

B-47 History clip from Military Channel

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xFZxfE6yAcw

Newsreel 1958, B-47 Drops Atomic Bomb on Mars Bluff South Carolina

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2gu9ZjAdaFQ

“We were Crewdogs”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1GbGMjHe_s4

“Monthan Memories” where those B-47s were heading when they left.

http://www.dhc-2.com/Monthan_Memories.html

Somewhere I have seen a cartoon of staff officers having a competition for the longest commander’s call. I can’t find it but it must have been on Air Force Blues, which is worth checking out.

http://www.afblues.com/

28 July 1965 - President Lyndon B. Johnson announces his order to increase the number of United States troops in South Vietnam from 75,000 to 125,000, and to double the number of men drafted per month from 17,000 to 35,000.

29 July 1965 - The first 4,000 101st Airborne Division paratroopers arrive in Vietnam, landing at Cam Ranh Bay.

30 July 1965 - War on Poverty: U.S. President Lyndon B. Johnson signs the Social Security Act of 1965 into law, establishing Medicare and Medicaid.

5 August 1965, I had been studying “Europe on five dollars a day” and the maps, and it was now or never for the trip of a lifetime around Europe. We had what was left of the Quiniela money, I received permission for a 30 day leave. Our maid would love to take care of Doug. We bought new tires for the VW at the Morón AFEX station, checked out a tent from recreation services.

8 August 1965 was a Sunday and the last day shift for “B Flight. My leave was scheduled to start after that. Linda came out to the base with me to work. After I did my shift, we would leave on our trip from there.