MASSACHUSETTS AIR NATIONAL GUARD

 

Immediately after World War II, Dad joined what was then the US Army Air Forces Reserve Unit at Hanscom Field in Massachusetts, which shortly thereafter was reconstituted as the Massachusetts Air National Guard. He was first appointed as an Air Guardsman by Massachusetts Governor Robert F. Bradford and advanced in rank from Major at age 25 to Brigadier General at age 38, the youngest one-star general in the country at that time. After starting out as the squadron operations officer with P-47s at Logan Airport, by 1958 he had moved up the ranks to become the Wing Commander of the 102nd Fighter Wing, which eventually moved from Logan Airport to Otis Air Force Base on Cape Cod.

As the Berlin Crisis developed in the summer of 1961, the 102nd Tactical Fighter Wing of the Massachusetts Air National Guard received notice that it was to be activated for Federal Service on September 1st. From that date forward, the Wing’s three squadrons, comprised of the 101st [Boston], 131st [Westfield, MA], and 138th [Syracuse, NY] began preparations for deployment from their respective home bases. On October 28th 1961, the three F-86H squadrons rendezvoused at Loring AFB in Maine to commence their deployment to Phalsbourg Air Base in France. Although Dad had been “checked out” and qualified to fly the F-86, his position as Wing Commander with its attendant responsibilities did not normally require him to maintain current proficiency in the aircraft. Upon receipt of the deployment orders, he immediately set about to update his qualifications in the aircraft in order to personally lead the three squadrons across the Atlantic.

Even more challenging, this deployment had no precedent. It was the first time in US military history that such a large group of aircraft from the Air National Guard had been called to active duty on a “translant” or a cross Atlantic mission from the United State to Europe. It was remarkable for many reasons: the F-86 did not have aerial re-fueling capability and there was no air traffic control radar for North Atlantic or Arctic area flight segments. Therefore, the deployment flight plan was via the “Pine Tree Route” as follows:

 

Image credit www.102iw.ang.af.mil/

 

From the rendezvous point at Loring AFB on the Canadian border on October 28, 1961, the three F-86 squadrons, consisting of a total of 78 aircraft departed for Phalsbourg on the following day in flights of four with overnight stops at Goose Bay AB, Labrador, Sondrestrom AB, Greenland, Keflavic NAS, Iceland, and Prestwick AB, Scotland. Originally, no overnight had been planned at Prestwick with the planes pushing through to Phalsbourg. However, only the first two flights made it into Phalsbourg due to deteriorating weather conditions. The remainder of the fighter stream was held at Prestwick and departed the following day, arriving in Phalsbourg on Thursday, November 2, 1961.  As mentioned above, the lack of air traffic control radar plus over-ocean as well as Arctic area navigation required a 15-minute separation between each flight of four aircraft; and therefore it took nearly five hours to move all 78 fighters from point A to point B. The safe movement of 78 aircraft in one stream far exceeded the previous Air Force record of a 24 aircraft movement. This was a feather in the cap of the Air Guard and specifically the 102nd Wing.[1]

With Dad’s leadership and without a single incident, the 102nd was recognized for accomplishing this unique feat as a “first” in the history of the US Air Force. This “rapid, safe, and precedent-shattering move to Europe was hailed by all observers”[2] and resulted in accolades from numerous USAF hierarchy and US Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara who proclaimed the Wing’s relocation as a “magnificent performance . . . that made military history.”[3]

Arriving in Phalsbourg, and despite all the acclaim, the Guardsmen were disheartened as they landed at a “disbursed operations base” – meaning it was not a functional active duty air base at that time. Although it was supposed to be maintained under “caretaker status” in accordance with NATO agreements, Dad and his arriving troops found themselves without sufficient provisions, billets, office furniture, and telephone lines. Troops had to walk several miles to the mess hall because of insufficient ground transportation.

Springing into action, Dad and his staff managed to cajole local help to get the airfield and support facilities up to some semblance of standard operational status, which daringly included renting non-government local buses from the city of Strasbourg and autos from Hertz — as well as borrowing a few vehicles from a nearby Canadian Air Force Base — to meet the transportation shortage. Two weeks after they landed in Phalsbourg, as they scrambled for beds, chairs, vehicles, and telephones, the notorious General Curtis LeMay arrived for an inspection.

 
Charles Sweeney with F-94B at Logan Airport, mid-1950s. The “Seagull” logo was later exchanged for the Shamrock in the spring 1958.

Charles Sweeney with F-94B at Logan Airport, mid-1950s. The “Seagull” logo was later exchanged for the Shamrock in the spring 1958.

 
Charles Sweeney at Logan Airport early home of MA Air National Guard, 1950’s.

Charles Sweeney at Logan Airport early home of MA Air National Guard, 1950’s.

 

The last time Dad had met General LeMay was on August 10, 1945, one day after he returned to Tinian from Nagasaki. After piloting Bock’s Car and avoiding a potentially disastrous landing on the American-held Japanese island of Okinawa, Dad was ordered to report to then-Major General Curtis LeMay in Guam. Unlike the congratulatory handshake and words of praise from Gen. Jimmy Doolittle in Okinawa and those of several command staff in Tinian, Dad would never shake off the cold and terse reception he received from Major General LeMay in Guam.

Although only peripherally involved in the atomic missions, Le May had taken over the 21st Bomber Command in the Mariana Islands in January 1945 and was responsible for all conventional air operations against Japan. Nicknamed “Old Iron Pants” for his uncompromising view of performance of duty, he was working from his Quonset hut on Guam when Dad walked in. As family legend goes, LeMay sat stiffly at his desk, chewed on his cigar, and reviewed a few papers. Without looking up from his desk, he said to Dad, “You missed your primary target, didn’t you, Major?” Disheveled, sleep-deprived, and still somewhat traumatized from the atomic mission only one day before, but a military man to the core, Dad simply replied, “Yes, Sir.” LeMay paused and — with cigar still clenched in his teeth and eyes still glued to his paperwork — responded, “Get out of my office.”[4]

Now in Phalsbourg, France 16 years later, Dad prepared to meet the four star-General Curtis LeMay, who swiftly rose up the ranks after WW II to become Chief of Staff of the United States Air Force, for an inspection. LeMay loathed the idea of using ANG units for this Berlin Wall Crisis because they were subject to control by their respective states, and LeMay only wanted units that he could command.[5] However, once they were federalized and under his lead, he capitulated. He also realized that this crisis reflected a “Cold War” which was very different from the aerial supremacy he was accustomed to in WW II — and his relationship with his boss, Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, was tenuous, at best. LeMay had no choice but to fly to Phalsbourg and find out more about these renegade ANG units that McNamara had deployed to Phalsbourg.

 
Historical aircraft of the Massachusetts Air National Guard in their role as Air Defense Interceptors guarding the northeastern coastline of the United States against foreign intruders (Photo credit US Air Force Senior Airman Rick Haddon)

Historical aircraft of the Massachusetts Air National Guard in their role as Air Defense Interceptors guarding the northeastern coastline of the United States against foreign intruders (Photo credit US Air Force Senior Airman Rick Haddon).

 

Dad was never one to hold a grudge, although he probably still chafed thinking about the dispassionate and poker-faced LeMay in Guam. Nonetheless, as a welcome peace offering, Dad tendered a box of fine Cuban cigars which were contraband in the United States but not illegal in France. LeMay inquired, “Where did you get these, Charlie?” Dad winked, “Don’t ask, Sir.”

With stogies in hand, and the ice between them safely defrosted, the two Generals toured the scruffy base in Phalsbourg with their command staff. When they were done, LeMay turned to his Deputy and asked who was responsible for not maintaining the base for active duty squadrons? The Deputy replied, “The Commander of the 17th Air Force in Europe, Sir.” Quickly reverting to his Guam-like demeanor, LeMay had only two words in response: “Fire him.”

Within a week or two of arriving at Phalsbourg, Dad’s unit was flying sorties and maintaining a strong U.S. presence close to Berlin. The ANG success in this Cold War endeavor — where the Guard’s presence had been used to preserve peace rather than engage in aerial combat — was memorialized by President John F. Kennedy who stated:

“I know I speak for all our countrymen in expressing an appreciation to all those who served under the adverse conditions of living in camps and being taken away from their families. The willingness of the great majority of all of them to do this uncomplainingly, I think, should be an inspiration to every American. . . . Mission accomplished. You can return to your civilian pursuits with pride in your hearts.”[6]

In July 1962, after successfully completing their mission, the Air National Guardsmen returned home to their respective bases, and for the most part, to their lives as weekend warriors.


[1]  Mundo, Albert  (Capt., Ret., Flight Commander,  MA ANG) Personal correspondence, 2017

[2]  Kenneally, James J., (Col., Ret., MA ANG): Minutemen in a Micro-chip Age,  a History of the Massachusetts Air   National  Guard (undated), p. 33

[3]  Ibid.

[4] Dad often used this story as a teachable moment with his children. “No matter where you go in life,” he’d say, “and whatever path you take, there’ll always be hard noses like LeMay. But try to find and cherish the Jimmy Doolittles of the world who aren’t afraid to shake your hand for a job well done.”

[5] Tillman, B., LeMay: Lessons in Leadership (2007), p. 138

[6] Kenneally, op. cit., p. 40