This tale begins like all good Intruder tales, on a dark and stormy night when all the Skyhawks, Phantoms and Crusaders were tied down to the line.

Dick Tinsley and I were fragged for a two-plane mission up the Laotian track to the Red River Valley to strike a "Suspected Ammo Storage Area". The target was on the south side of a reservoir approximately 30 miles west of Hanoi. Each Intruder carried eighteen Mark 82's (500 pound General Purpose Bombs) and two 300 gallon drop tanks and the flight was supported by a VMCJ-1 EA6A, electronic counter measures Intruder. We were also supported with SAM (surface to air missile) and flack suppression from two Air Force Wild Weasels, which at the time were the two-seat variant of the F 105 Thunderchief.

The flight leader was Major Andy Martin and his Bombardier/Navigator was Capt. Jack Butchko. The plan was a high - low - high section up the mountains at 20,000 plus, with a let down into the Red River Valley and delivery at 1500 feet AGL on a west to east run-in heading (103 degrees magnetic). Because of the independent weapon systems in the two A-6's, our plane (Dash - 2) would take a one minute separation on the flight leader as we began our let down over the mountain.

It was the common wisdom within the Marine A-6 community that one plane had a far better surprise capability than two planes in tandem, especially at night and therefore had a better probability of survival. The reality was that Dash-2 on a system attack routinely encountered far more defenses (AAA, SAMs and small arms fire) than the flight leader. A single Intruder could usually get in and out of the target without much opposition. Yet, even though this grim fact was well known to the planners, they continued to launch two planes on Route Package VI strikes because of the misperceived need to coordinate with other support groups and prior experiences with visual bombers.

At the pilot level, we believed that a single A-6 with a full system and working ECM gear had a better chance of surviving a low level attack in the Red River Valley, even without EA6A and especially without Wild Weasel support, than any two plane section. However, certain political pressures prevailed and total bombs on target per strike seemed to be an important objective. This inane practice continued until Capt.'s. Hugh Fanning and Steve Kott became its inevitable victims during a strike in October of 1967.

As Dick and I joined up on Andy, climbing out over Khe Sahn, it became clear that our ECM gear was "down". We had no S-Band or X-Band alerting and were unsure of our jamming capability. Although it was a problem, it was not big enough for us to cancel our part in the mission. We concluded that Andy could advise us of active SAM sites as we got closer to the target and we would attempt to saturate the run-in with chaff and hope the EA6A would be effective in its role. We also had second thoughts about the Wild Weasels being active in the area, only because they tended to alert the neighborhood that something was up.

In any event, it was perfect A-6 weather. There were substantial low clouds on the East Side of the mountains and a bright, moonlit night above.

The attack plan had Andy running in at 500 feet altitude separation and breaking to the left after release, while we would start our run-in one-minute later and break to the right after releasing our ordnance.

The true importance of this mission was not in the "suspected ammo dump" but the fact that the Son Tay POW barracks was on the north side of the reservoir and we had hoped to let our guys know that we were still thinking of them. The plan was simple. We would make a straight path attack with a long, narrow, eighteen-bomb footprint about a mile south of the prison.

The mission was routine until we were approximately 20 miles from the target (at 350 KIAS, that's about 5.9 nautical miles per minute or 3.5 minutes), and beginning our run-in when Andy informed us that the SAM sites seemed to be up and searching. Visibility was extremely limited because the run-in kept us in and out of the lower clouds. Andy pickled and broke to the left. Now it was our turn. We began our final one-minute run-in and the SAMs began to fly.

I could see the glow of what was clearly a missile in the air through the cloud layers and I was convinced that they were on us and not Andy's Intruder. Dick was doing all he could do, with his head in the boot, trying to keep the radar cursors on the target because of our great concern that a miss could be disastrous on Son Tay. Nonetheless, it became clear, with less than a minute to go, that serious jinking and chaff were key to our immediate survival. Our purpose was to boost the POW's morale but not necessarily join them.

At one point, I broke hard to the right and a SAM exploded directly below our Intruder spraying the bottom of the aircraft with missile fragments. At least two other missiles undershot us and exploded a safe distance away. We thought we might have lost a "lock" on the target. However, leveling out Dick advised me that he still had a "radar lock" on the target and a proper run-in heading which allowed me to continue the planned straight path attack.

After what seemed like the longest fifteen seconds (mile and a half) in the history of the world, the bombs released and we made our quick, hard break to the right to start our climb out over the mountains, only to experience a rough running left engine. The missile had obviously done some damage. I presumed that there was a good probability that it would quit so I retarded the throttle, punched off the racks and drop tanks, advised Andy of our trouble and began a slow climb over the mountains. We exited the target area and got as far from the SAM ring as possible. Because of the lack of power, we had to make a 360 in order to clear the 7,000-foot mountains and climb out to 15,000 feet for the ride home.

All the way back to Da Nang we watched the damaged engine for any sign that it might suddenly come apart. We made a precautionary single engine approach (retarded left throttle), landed and refueled. After shutting down, we inspected the bottom of the aircraft and were surprised to see how few holes were actually in the airplane (good armourplate).

The next day, the BDA showed that we had come as close to the "suspected ammo dump" as anyone had expected. More importantly, it was well within earshot of the Son Tay POW barracks and the American prisoners.

Over the years, Dick and I have often wondered whether the mission had its intended morale boost for the POWs, and if any of you happen to read this de-brief, please give us a call.

Epilogue -- During the climb out, after my pulse rate slowed below 200 and my dry mouth began to permit conversation, I asked Dick for a drink of his survival water. He handed me his baby bottle. I started to take a slug, smelled something funny and realized, as it poured into my mouth, that he had handed me a baby bottle full of gin.

When I asked what was in the bottle, Dick simply announced, "If we go down and I am going to get captured, at least I'm going to have one last good buzz." He also had the bottle of water. He just grabbed the wrong one.

Post script as told by Dick Tinsley

The requirement to work with the Wild Weasels just did not set well with us. Generally, we could be sure that coordinating with the Wild Weasel F105G's would mean that after the Wild Weasel's entered the area everyone on the ground would be wide awake with a whetted appetite. That's exactly what happened.

I (Dick Tinsley) had my head in the boot as we came over the mountains and easily picked up the target area near the reservoir. The radar predictions had been extremely accurate because of the size and configuration of the body of water. Also, there was a significant radar target on the south side of the reservoir that allowed me to get a lock earlier than expected. The high resolution of the radar aim point on this target made us comfortable that we would be able to accomplish the mission even with the proximity of the Son Tay Prison.

As we closed on the target and switched to the attack mode, Joe began violently maneuvering the aircraft. I never lost the radar lock but was concerned that I would. Suddenly there were bright flashes all around the aircraft that lit up the inside of the boot and were followed by some buffeting. When Joe rolled out, we were within two miles of the release point, the lock was still good, and we were in attack and the bombs dropped as advertised.

I can remember Andy or Jack calling as they came off the target that there was anti aircraft and missiles in the air but "It's all behind us." I remember thinking at the time, "Well no shit, guess where we are."

Anyway, they were right, Dash-1 had virtually no opposition.