A Blind Landing - Really Blind
The war in Korea began in 1950 when the North Korean communist troops invaded South Korea, pushing back the defending forces to a small area in the south-east of the country. The fight-back quickly involved a multi-national UN force and later the Chinese army. By 1952, the front had stabilised near the original border between North and South. The carrier USS Valley Forge, which had carried out the first airstrikes by the US Navy in 1950, was still in action, attacking the railway and transport system of the North.
Its squadrons used the A-1 Skyraider, an immensely strong attack bomber. A large single seater, the Skyraider could carry a warload of up to 6,000 lbs. Its Wright R- 3350 engine produced 2,700 hp, so powerful that pilots were specially trained to avoid using too much throttle if they had to overshoot after a baulked landing when a torque roll could put them into the sea.
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On 22 March, 1952, the pilots of Squadron VA-194 were briefed to attack a marshalling yard in North Korea. Eight aircraft were ready for take-off but one had a hydraulic system problem so the reserve, flown by 22- year old Ensign Kenneth Schecter was called up in its place. It was his 27th mission of the war.
Over the target he was scheduled to carry out 15 bomb runs at 1200 feet. Eight passes went well then, on the 9th attack, an anti-aircraft shell exploded in his cockpit. Instinctively, he pulled back the stick to climb away. Then he passed out.
He woke to the agony of the wound to his head and face – but he was unable to see anything at all. He felt his face and found that his upper lip was almost detached. Luckily, the radio microphone still worked. He called out "I'm blind! For God's sake, help me! I'm blind." His call was answered by Lt Howard Thayer. He said "Plane in trouble, rock your wings. Plane in trouble, rock your wings." Thayer saw Ken Schechter’s Skyraider above him, climbing towards the 10,000 ft cloud overcast. Once in the cloud, there would be no hope of helping his friend.
"Put your nose down! Put your nose down! Push over. I'm coming up."
Thayer climbed and flew alongside Schechter’s plane. The canopy had been blown off and Schecter’s head was being buffeted by the 200 mph slipstream. Blood was spreading along the side of the fuselage. "You're doing all right. Pull back a little. We can level off now." The voice of his room-mate helped Schechter to revive. He found his canteen and poured water over his face. He had a fleeting glimpse of a red instrument panel then the blindness returned. "Get me down, Howie. Get me down".
Howard told Schechter to jettison the rest of his bombs and kept up a stream of conversation, "We're headed south, Ken. We're heading for Wonsan (a Korean port on the Sea of Japan). Not too long." Ken was struggling to stay conscious. He couldn’t reach his first aid kit for the morphine and the blood in his mouth made him want to vomit.
"Get me down, Howie!"
"Roger. We're approaching Wonsan now. Get ready to bail out."
"Negative! Negative! Not going to bail out. Get me down." Schechter remembered his second mission in Korea when his wingman’s plane was damaged and he had to ditch in the ocean. The rubber immersion suits the pilots wore had proved faulty and the CO2 inflation bottles did not always work properly. His wingman’s frozen body was retrieved with a suit half filled with frigid water.
Thayer knew there was a field used by the Marines 30 miles inside friendly territory. "We'll head for K-50. Hold on, Ken. Can you hear me, Ken? We’ll head for K-50. Can you make it, Ken?"
"Get me down, you miserable bastard, or you'll have to inventory my gear!" (If a pilot died, his personal belongings which were to be sent home were sorted and listed by a colleague. Ken and Howard had delegated this task to each other).
Thayer could see his friend’s head flopping from side to side as he struggled to remain conscious and he thought K-50 might be too far. Just behind the lines was Jersey Bounce, a dirt strip occasionally used by artillery observation light planes. "Ken, we're going down. Push your nose over, drop your right wing. We're approaching 'Jersey Bounce.' We’ll make a 270 degree turn and set you down."
"Roger, Howie, let's go."
"Left wing down slowly, nose over easy. A little more. Put your landing gear down." "To hell with that!" was the instantaneous reply. Schechter had seen this short field before and knew that a belly landing would be safer. "Roger, gear up," Thayer agreed.
"We're heading straight. Flaps down. Hundred yards to the runway. You're 50 feet off the ground. Pull back a little. Easy. Easy. That's good. You're level. You're O.K. You're O.K. Thirty feet off the ground. You're O.K. You're over the runway. Twenty feet. Kill it a little. You're setting down. O.K. O.K. O.K. Cut!"
The Skyraider skidded along the dirt and lurched to a stop in one piece. Schechter later said that it was the best landing he ever made. As undid his straps and began to climb out of the cockpit a Jeep drove up and two soldiers took him to their shack on the edge of the strip. A helicopter was called to fly him to K-50 where there was a field hospital. After first aid and pain killers he was flown to a Navy hospital ship for surgery to repair the severe wounds to his scalp, face and eyes.
The dramatic incident got wider publicity that evening on the ship. The radio conversation had been recorded and was played to the crew. Both pilots were recommended for a decoration.
The Skyraider was jacked up and a new prop fitted. It was flown out of the strip for repairs and later returned to service.
Ken Schechter spent some time in hospitals in Pusan, Korea and San Diego. He regained sight in his left eye but not in the right and he was discharged from the Navy in August 1952.
He married in 1955 and his best man, naturally, was Howard Thayer. Sadly, Thayer died in 1961. He was flying another Douglas attack plane, an A-4 jet, in the Mediterranean. During a night exercise his wingman’s aircraft had an electrical problem and Thayer was escorting him back to the carrier but both planes crashed into the sea.
Shortly after this, Schechter asked the Navy what had happened to the recommendation for the medals, neither of which had been awarded. Initially, he got a cold answer. It took the help of a Congressman to get the Navy to find the paperwork and Ken Schechter finally got his DFC, but not until 1995.
The ceremony was attended by the family of Howard Thayer. His posthumous DFC was awarded in 2009.
Over the target he was scheduled to carry out 15 bomb runs at 1200 feet. Eight passes went well then, on the 9th attack, an anti-aircraft shell exploded in his cockpit. Instinctively, he pulled back the stick to climb away. Then he passed out.
He woke to the agony of the wound to his head and face – but he was unable to see anything at all. He felt his face and found that his upper lip was almost detached. Luckily, the radio microphone still worked. He called out "I'm blind! For God's sake, help me! I'm blind." His call was answered by Lt Howard Thayer. He said "Plane in trouble, rock your wings. Plane in trouble, rock your wings." Thayer saw Ken Schechter’s Skyraider above him, climbing towards the 10,000 ft cloud overcast. Once in the cloud, there would be no hope of helping his friend.
"Put your nose down! Put your nose down! Push over. I'm coming up."
Thayer climbed and flew alongside Schechter’s plane. The canopy had been blown off and Schecter’s head was being buffeted by the 200 mph slipstream. Blood was spreading along the side of the fuselage. "You're doing all right. Pull back a little. We can level off now." The voice of his room-mate helped Schechter to revive. He found his canteen and poured water over his face. He had a fleeting glimpse of a red instrument panel then the blindness returned. "Get me down, Howie. Get me down".
Howard told Schechter to jettison the rest of his bombs and kept up a stream of conversation, "We're headed south, Ken. We're heading for Wonsan (a Korean port on the Sea of Japan). Not too long." Ken was struggling to stay conscious. He couldn’t reach his first aid kit for the morphine and the blood in his mouth made him want to vomit.
"Get me down, Howie!"
"Roger. We're approaching Wonsan now. Get ready to bail out."
"Negative! Negative! Not going to bail out. Get me down." Schechter remembered his second mission in Korea when his wingman’s plane was damaged and he had to ditch in the ocean. The rubber immersion suits the pilots wore had proved faulty and the CO2 inflation bottles did not always work properly. His wingman’s frozen body was retrieved with a suit half filled with frigid water.
Thayer knew there was a field used by the Marines 30 miles inside friendly territory. "We'll head for K-50. Hold on, Ken. Can you hear me, Ken? We’ll head for K-50. Can you make it, Ken?"
"Get me down, you miserable bastard, or you'll have to inventory my gear!" (If a pilot died, his personal belongings which were to be sent home were sorted and listed by a colleague. Ken and Howard had delegated this task to each other).
Thayer could see his friend’s head flopping from side to side as he struggled to remain conscious and he thought K-50 might be too far. Just behind the lines was Jersey Bounce, a dirt strip occasionally used by artillery observation light planes. "Ken, we're going down. Push your nose over, drop your right wing. We're approaching 'Jersey Bounce.' We’ll make a 270 degree turn and set you down."
"Roger, Howie, let's go."
"Left wing down slowly, nose over easy. A little more. Put your landing gear down." "To hell with that!" was the instantaneous reply. Schechter had seen this short field before and knew that a belly landing would be safer. "Roger, gear up," Thayer agreed.
"We're heading straight. Flaps down. Hundred yards to the runway. You're 50 feet off the ground. Pull back a little. Easy. Easy. That's good. You're level. You're O.K. You're O.K. Thirty feet off the ground. You're O.K. You're over the runway. Twenty feet. Kill it a little. You're setting down. O.K. O.K. O.K. Cut!"
The Skyraider skidded along the dirt and lurched to a stop in one piece. Schechter later said that it was the best landing he ever made. As undid his straps and began to climb out of the cockpit a Jeep drove up and two soldiers took him to their shack on the edge of the strip. A helicopter was called to fly him to K-50 where there was a field hospital. After first aid and pain killers he was flown to a Navy hospital ship for surgery to repair the severe wounds to his scalp, face and eyes.
The dramatic incident got wider publicity that evening on the ship. The radio conversation had been recorded and was played to the crew. Both pilots were recommended for a decoration.
The Skyraider was jacked up and a new prop fitted. It was flown out of the strip for repairs and later returned to service.
Ken Schechter spent some time in hospitals in Pusan, Korea and San Diego. He regained sight in his left eye but not in the right and he was discharged from the Navy in August 1952.
He married in 1955 and his best man, naturally, was Howard Thayer. Sadly, Thayer died in 1961. He was flying another Douglas attack plane, an A-4 jet, in the Mediterranean. During a night exercise his wingman’s aircraft had an electrical problem and Thayer was escorting him back to the carrier but both planes crashed into the sea.
Shortly after this, Schechter asked the Navy what had happened to the recommendation for the medals, neither of which had been awarded. Initially, he got a cold answer. It took the help of a Congressman to get the Navy to find the paperwork and Ken Schechter finally got his DFC, but not until 1995.
The ceremony was attended by the family of Howard Thayer. His posthumous DFC was awarded in 2009.