The Red river runs through NVN diagonally from the Northwest, through Hanoi, and out into the Gulf of Tonkin. The river and the city make two of the major landmarks of Pak Six. The third one is Thud Ridge. Situated 20 miles north of Hanoi, it is a narrow, 15 mile finger pointing to Hanoi. This way, boys!

The peaks and crevasses of Thud Ridge were inaccessible, unless you happened to be a mountain goat. The Ridge was a logistics problem for the enemy. They couldn't get any guns up there, 5000 feet into the misty air of the Red River Valley. Escaping Thuds hugged the "lee" slope of the Ridge and were masked from the radar of SAMs, guns, and MIGs. Thud Ridge was a haven, our first full breath of air, the first step to another day of life.

Most of the time, we entered the Arena by way of Thud Ridge. More times than not, our "Egress" was back north to the Ridge. To vary the route sounds like a good tactic to keep them off balance but there was no better way than the Ridge. To enter the valley from the west, south, or east was to face miles of table-flat plains infested with SAM sites. No friendly hills or mountains jutted up to block the radar view. There was a place on the Ridge we called the "Rest Camp." It looked like a hot bath resort, maybe it was. It was easily seen from the air, giant pools of blue water and clusters of bungalows. A tempting place to stop. Some of us did, but not to bathe and flirt. The Weasels, who spent a lot of time working around Thud Ridge, used the Rest Camp as a reference point. Another term in the list of anachroyms for us, was "RESCAP" a fore-shortening of "Rescue Cover" or "Rescue Forces" a group of Jungle Jumpers dear to our hearts. The Jolly Green Giants were a part of that, a bunch of chopper guys too dumb to be afraid. I digress....I always digress for the Jolly Greens.

Gus was a Wild Weasel, and a good one. I don't remember where he was from, but it way down south somewhere, and he wasn't always easy to understand on the radio. "Whear in thee Hayal R we gowin' nayow?" One day, Gus was leading his Weasels up the Ridge and the Force Commander asked him where he was. Gus was a little irritated since he had been playing tag with some angry MiGs, and his tone of voice sounded excited. "Ahm hettn' up the Reeidge 'et th' res cap!" There was a lot of immediate, urgent excitement because it sounded like; "I'm Hit, at the Ridge, get the RESCAP!" He had simply stated; "I'm heading up the Ridge at the Rest Camp."

The plane was incredibly tough. We grew to expect five to seven minutes of high-speed escape from that magnificent old bird, even when it was a blazing torch in the sky. It just kept going, a truly remarkable piece of machinery. It had heart, and we loved it. We always headed for the Ridge when we took a hit, or ran into mechanical trouble. A great many Thuds made it to the Ridge and then died. A considerable tonnage of Thuds was deposited on Thud Ridge.

Yes, the Ridge was a haven, and we tried for it when we were hurting. It was also a proper setting for the tragedy that happened there so often. Like the Isle of Madelene, it looked unreal. Unlike the Isle, it wasn't beautiful. It was a dark and ghostly place. Mist hung in its highest crevasses even on sunny days. It looked like a colossal dragon, lying there in the Red River Valley. In late 1967, the dragon grew teeth. They began to put guns on the Ridge. The logistics problem had been solved. Giant heli-copters began carrying guns up to the Ridge. The route to our safe haven was closed. There were plenty of Thuds that died before getting to the Ridge, though. Gene Smith didn't make it. Without comment, he jettisoned his burning plane and floated down into the center of Hanoi. That same day, we went and bombed the Air Field at Phuc Yen. Ray Horinek, one of the unlucky sixteen, went down on that raid. He didn't make it to the Ridge either, he said "See you guys later" and leaped out over Phuc Yen. We never got it right, what to say just before punching out of a burning airplane. Here's the script we forgot to learn;

The silver screen is full of twisting, diving, turning aircraft. Smoke is pouring from one as we zoom in to the cockpit and see the young pilot...... "Skipper! I'm going Down!" SKIPPER; "Pull out, RICK, Pull out!" RICK; "It's no use, (Gasp), tell Julie I love her!" There is an eerie silence as the battle still rages, and the Skipper circles gazing profoundly at the column of smoke made by Rick's plane as it smashed to earth. There is a crescendo of music as a chorus sings "Tell Julie I love her" in nine part harmony, and the Skipper gets a set face, and up on the sound of tracers from the three enemy planes chasing him. SKIPPER, (Circling); "I'll get them dirty, pinko Commies!" and you can tell by his handsome, heroic features that he's going to turn around and blast them all to Hell!

G.I. Basel flew 78-and-a-half combat missions in the F-105.
The unique end of tour patch shown was given to him while
he was recovering from injuries inflicted during the bail out
from F-105D 62-4385 on 28 February 1968.
This actual patch was kindly donated by G.I. Basel.

Back to Archives Page
or
Back to Home Page

This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page