My Flight of the Intruder

   An Attack squadron 36 (VA-36) A-6E Intruder aircraft lands on the nuclear-powered aircraft carrier USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN-71) during Operation Deny Flight .

“Hey, Doc. Let’s you and me take an A-6 and fly over Bosnia tomorrow.”

I nearly choked on my slider (Navy cheeseburger). Had the CAG (Air Wing Commander) just invited me to fly with him over hostile territory? On a real mission? We were in USS THEODORE ROOSEVELT’s “dirty shirt” wardroom, where aviators dined without changing out of flight suits into the more formal wash khaki attire required in the main wardroom. I took my time finishing the burger morsel, trying to ascertain whether my boss had just made me the butt of one of his infamous pranks. (Aviators take extra pleasure in gigging the doc.) The dead serious look on his face, with just a hint of a smile on the corner of his mouth, told me he meant what he said.

The boyish thrill in my voice betrayed my effort to appear nonchalant. “Sure, CAG, I’ll fly with you.”

The year was 1993, and the mission was “Operation Deny Flight.” Our carrier air wing played a key role in enforcing the UN prohibition on flights over Bosnia and Herzegovina, where civil war raged among various ethnic groups. CAG had just invited me to be his BN (bombardier/navigator) for one of those enforcement missions. A seasoned naval aviator who had flown attacks over Vietnam, he knew that he could fly this recon mission with only a sack of potatoes in the right seat. With me on board, he would at least get another set of eyes and someone who could push a button or two when directed.

Prior to that day in the Adriatic Sea, I had logged some A-6 right seat time, mostly training flights at NAS Oceana, or tanker flights circling over the carrier as the airborne “Texaco” giving fuel to Hornets and Tomcats. So I tried to maintain a casual air the next morning when we manned up for the flight. I strapped on the offered 9mm pistol, just in case we went down and had to defend ourselves. (That happened to Air Force aviator several years later.) But I kept the pistol unloaded, stuffing the ammunition into a pocket on my flight suit. A flight surgeon accidentally discharging a pistol in the cockpit of an aircraft in flight over Bosnia would make the cover of NAVY TIMES in a way my family would not relish.

I lost all semblance of aviator swagger when I struggled on the ascent to my seat on the right side of the airplane. Because the fuselage curved outward, one had to be more nimble than a short stocky flight surgeon climbing up the side railing and stepping into the cockpit. A push in the rear from one of the enlisted plane captains finally got me over the top. CAG was already strapped into his seat, chuckling as I huffed and puffed into mine.

I handled the radio calls for the preflight, launch, and approach to our destination. When we went “feet dry” over Bosnia, we switched to our FAC, forward air controller, who was positioned somewhere in the former Olympic complex in Sarajevo. Flying low over the site of the 1984 winter games, I was aghast at the devastation that civil war had wrought on a place where the world’s finest athletes had once celebrated international fellowship and camaraderie. But the most sad-making sight came when we flew over villages and towns. Intact homes stood next to the wreckage of those destroyed by ethnic cleansing, as if some cruel fist had randomly squashed the lives of certain families, and preserved those of others.

Beyond that chilling site, the mission was uneventful. I never had to load my pistol — an altogether good thing. With the help of our FAC, we spotted a few hidden airplanes on the ground, but no signs that anyone intended to fly them. Two hours after we launched, we trapped back on board the TR. My one and only “green ink” flight was over — too soon. (Aviators record actual “combat” flights in green ink in their log books.)

A year later, I would have the honor of flying the right seat of the last A-6 from my air wing as it was delivered to NAS Norfolk for decomissioning. The Intruder was a fabulous airframe that played a stellar role in the grand history of naval aviation. It was also a great platform for a flight surgeon aviator wannabe to bag exciting flight time.

I close with a video that honors this venerable bird: