"Only the spirit of attack, born in a brave heart, will bring success to any fighter aircraft, no matter how highly developed it may be."
( Adolf Galland)

An Honor

In my entire aviation career, there was never a more intense and challenging, yet thoroughly enjoyable period than the four weeks I was fortunate to spend at the elite, Navy Fighter Weapons School - more commonly known as TOPGUN.

But it was almost not to be. During my first cruise with VF-151 on the USS Midway, another pilot had been tentatively identified to represent our squadron at Top Gun. Then one day after a mission, and with extra fuel to spare, my flight lead and I engaged in some ACM (air combat maneuvering) training before our return to the ship. It was one of my best performances. My lead was a very talented and widely respected ACM pilot. He held great sway as to who would attend Top Gun. After our flight, he told the CO that I was the best and most aggressive young fighter pilot he had ever flown against. As a result, I got orders to Top Gun.

The timing was perfect. Although still new, the school was making a real and vitally needed impact on the Navy fighter community in tactics, training, and combat results; I had just finished my first combat cruise, and was about to embark on my second; and the air war over North Vietnam had begun in earnest, once again after a long halt.

Study, Fly, Study, Then Study Some More

Although perhaps not as glamorous as the later movie of the same name, the intensity, quality, and value of the real Top Gun school far exceeded that of the movie. Every day started very early with classroom study of a variety of lessons. . . from Soviet history to public speaking, in addition to cutting edge, new fighter tactics. Then at least one, if not two flights followed, flying against the best fighter pilots in the world, at that time. Thoroughly tired and drained after the debriefs, more classroom work or study followed. Then it was home after dark for more study until late at night. Then the next morning, the same routine commenced once again.

Even though I lived with three other pilots in a rented "snake ranch" mansion with a beautiful ocean view atop Mt. Soledad in La Jolla, I had no time to enjoy it. Nor was there any time for the inviting social life that my roommates were enjoying. But I didn't mind. There was no other place I wanted to be, nor anything I wanted more to do than to be a student at the best school ever - the Navy Fighter Weapons School!

Almost Friendly Fire

Of our early Topgun Class Picture below, only two of the four fighter crews pictured would later have the opportunity to fly in SEA. And of those remaining four individual Pilots and RO's, only two - Bart (standing, left center behind me kneeling, and Jim, with glasses next to Bart) would ever down MiG's (separately, and documented here and here for Bart, and here for Jim. A more recent 2008 article is here ).

Ironically, only a few months after this TOPGUN graduating class photo was taken, I nearly shot down Bart over North Vietnam, in a potential friendly fire incident.

My section was given a "cleared to fire" by our "Red Crown" controllers on two MiG-19s we had been chasing. My RO, (call-sign "TA") had locked up what we both thought was one of the two hostile "Bandit" MiG-19s on radar. Our alleged MiG-19 was heading at high speed directly for us at a very low altitude. We again were given a repeated "cleared to fire" on our "locked-up" bandit. Indeed, I was just a trigger-squeeze away from firing an AIM-7 "Sparrow" missile, head-on at a range of several miles.

I only hesitated, so as to close the range and "sweeten the shot" to ensure a greater probability of a 'kill'. . . . when suddenly, I saw in the distance - Smoke!

I knew MiG's did not smoke; I knew that F-4's did smoke. So I therefore thankfully held my fire.

A moment later, Bart in his smoking F-4 - my previously "cleared-to fire-upon, 'enemy' target" - blasted by my port side at 600kts.

Unbeknownst to TA and myself, Bart while on another discrete separate radio frequency from ours had been vectored onto the same MiG's as we had, but from the opposite direction, 180 degrees from ours. Meanwhile, the MiG-19s surreptitiously slipped away undetected, out low to the south.

In our flight debrief, Bart casually brushed the near catastrophe off. But to this day, I still shudder at how close I came to firing on my friend.