Pardo’s Push: Heroics at 6,000 feet 

JOIN US! Starting the first Monday of each month, from High Noon on February 2nd, at the center of East Hills Shopping Mall for Bob Ford’s History. We will discuss last month's articles and any history you’d like! Free, no politics, no drama, no problem. See you there. 

This Vietnam War themed article is compliments of Kenneth Reeder. 

There is nothing like being in combat. 

If you haven’t experienced it, it’s hard to imagine and/or describe 

Soldiers who fought together have a unique bond that exists a lifetime. 

William Shakespeare eloquently verbalized the affection the King of England had for his men before the Battle of Agincourt in the play Henry V. “From this day to the ending of the world, but we in it shall be remembered. We few, we happy few, we band of brother; For he to-day that shed his blood with me. Shall be my brother.” 

This came from a King speaking to his lowly subjects, unheard of in the 15th century, but it worked. Henry V’s army was outnumbered 3-1 in Northern France, enemy territory, when he spoke those words during the 100 Years War. The French defeat solidified and bolstered England's dominance in Europe, for a while. 

The famed miniseries Band of Brothers and Ken Burnes heralded Civil War documentary are the best and closest to understanding combat on film, from afar. 

In the United States Civil War, regiments were primarily raised locally on both sides. During combat, it was better to wound the attacking enemy rather than kill him because his two best friends from their hometown were probably alongside him. They would move their wounded mate to safety, taking three soldiers off the front line to do so. Camaraderie. 

F-4 Phantom pilot Captain Bob Pardo and his “backseater,” Lt. Steve Wayne, were on a mission in 1967 with wingmen Captain Earl Aman and Lt. Steve Wayne. Their target was a well-defended steel mill just north of Hanoi. 

F-4’s are huge and the workhorse in the air when talking about fighter jets. Their ability and firepower were second to none in the air. However, what they gained in munitions strength they lost in maneuverability. In a dog fight against a MIG, the F-4 was vulnerable. 

Pardo and Aman hit their target, but both sustained considerable damage. Aman got the worst of the anti-aircraft fire but managed to fly away from the mill. He was losing hydraulics and fuel fast; however, the slow flying and vulnerable Boeing KC-135 refueler couldn’t travel that deep into North Vietnam. 

Aman thought he was out of options, needing to hit the silks and face the consequences of what would greet him and Wayne on the ground. The Hanoi Hilton was crowded but any captured American flyboy had a standing reservation. 

Radioing Pardo, “losing fuel fast, ejecting now.” Pardo, whose jet was also damaged, “Hold on! Let’s figure something out. Deploy your landing chute, I’ll set my nose in that back compartment and push you to Laos!" Chute deployed but Pardo could not maintain the nose of his plane in the opening due to the jet wash that was coming off the Aman’s quickly descending F-4. 

Next, the idea that goes down in aviation combat history as legend. “Lower your tailhook!” ordered Pardo. 

F-4’s originally designed for the Navy had tailhooks used when landing on an aircraft carrier, hooking the “arresting wire” made of steel cable to stop the aircraft. 

Tailhooks were left on the Air Force F-4’s to help land and stop the planes on a runway in case the jet had damage to their undercarriage. 

Aman deployed his tailhook, but now what? 

Pardo maneuvered his plane below Aman, setting the tailhook on his canopy, pushing the crippled jet forward. Any wrong move could puncture the canopy and bring the tailhook onto Pardo’s face! 

They had lost thousands of feet in altitude and speed. Unfortunately, in aerial design jargon, an F-4 was known to glide like a brick. 

Aman’s descent rate went from 3,000 ft per minute to 1,500. It was working! 

Pardo could only stay on the hook for 10 to 30 seconds, having to re-connect several times, but they didn’t have far to go to friendly Laos. 

About 10 minutes into the push, Pardo’s aircraft, damaged by ground fire earlier finally caught up with him, one of the engines burst into flames. Pardo had to shut it down or it would blow. Now, these two precision, multi-million dollar fighting machines were staying aloft off of one engine. 

Pardo radioed for help realizing he’d have to bail too hoping they had crossed the border. Yes, they made it: Laos. 

Aman, Hughton and Wayne all parachuted out but Pardo flew on for another minute. “I always wanted to see how badly those suckers glided!” he later cracked. 

The four men were all picked up by rescue choppers and taken back to their base where Pardo’s greetings were not what he expected. 

“They didn’t know whether to court martial me or pin a medal on my chest,” Pardo lamented. They were disciplined and threatened proceedings for not saving their F-4’s. 

It took the Air Force two decades to get over the loss of the planes and reexamined the circumstances of that day, finally giving Pardo and Wayne their due: Two Silver Stars. 

In combat, whether being a “ground pounder” or fighting from “God's eye view,” your training, devotion to your fellow soldier and patriotism driven by adrenaline will kick in, propelling you to make the ultimate sacrifice, as needed, for your brothers, as they would for you. 

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Appreciation to Kevil Drewelow Director of the Combat Air Museum in Topeka, Kansas, for his assistance in putting this story together. 

Bob Ford’s History will appear in each edition of the Weekender, Midweek and Corner Post. You can find more if Bob’s work on his website bobfordshistory.com and videos on YouTube and TikTok.