WOLFPACK ASSASSIN

Confessions of a MiG killer

- BY LIEUTENANT COLONEL EVERETT T. RASPBERRY, USAF (RET.) AS TOLD TO AND WRITTEN BY JAMES P. BUSHA

Before I joined the United States Air Force (USAF) in 1955, I was just a "good ol' boy" from Macon, Georgia. But flying a jet fighter only enhanced some of those Southern traits. Less than 12 years later over Vietnam I became a MiG killer with the Triple Nickel-555th Tactical Fighter Squadron.

Early jet days

My first jet assignment was with the 309th Strategic Fighter Squadron flying a fighter called the F-84F Thunderstreak. Nothing could beat an F-84 going downhill, that was until the F-100 Super Sabre came along. My first thought of the F-100 was, “Boy, it sure has a big cockpit!” But each time you end up changing airplanes, you ended up thinking that way. They were all bigger than the previous one you came from. The F-100 had a lot more power and with afterburner it felt like you were dancing on the head of a needle sometimes as you had to constantly “fly” the F-100—there was not much room for error.

I GUESS THE PEOPLE BACK IN WASHINGTON KNEW MORE ABOUT WHAT A FIGHTER PILOT NEEDED THAN WE DID. UNFORTUNATELY FOR THEM, WE WOULD PROVE THEM WRONG OVER THE SKIES OF VIETNAM.