Editorial note: This article first appeared on the author’s website. It has been reproduced here with permission.
On 25 June 1950 local time, forces of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (North Korea) crossed the 38th Parallel and invaded the Republic of Korea (South Korea). Launching Operation Pokpung, North Korea quickly moved south and by 28 June had occupied the capital of South Korea, Seoul. In response to this act of aggression, on 25 June 1950, in New York, the United Nations passed Resolution 82, which condemned the invasion, called for a cessation of hostilities, and demanded the withdrawal of forces beyond the 38th Parallel. Failure to comply with the resolution led to the adoption of Resolution 83, which recommended that UN members provide military forces to support South Korea and restore peace.
Korea, after 35 years of occupation by the Japanese, was split into two zones of occupation in 1945. The Soviet Union occupied the north, while the United States occupied the south. While the intention had been to unify the Korean Peninsula, problems arose between the communist North and the nationalist South. The failure of the Communist Party (the Workers’ Party of North Korea) to participate in the 1948 elections, combined with the abstention of several South Korean politicians, led to the eventual development of two distinct systems of government.[1] After the communist victory in the Chinese Civil War in 1949 and after receiving tacit support from Joseph Stalin, North Korea prepared to invade South Korea.
Australia’s response to Resolution 83 was to support the UN. At this time, the Australian military was providing forces to the British Commonwealth Occupation Force (BCOF) in Japan. Shortly after the passage of Resolution 83, the Department of External Affairs received communications from the Americans regarding the support Australia was willing to provide.[2] Initially, the Royal Australian Navy vessels (RAN) HMAS Shoalhaven and Bataan (the latter en route to Japanese waters to relieve the former) were tasked with supporting the withdrawal of nationals from South Korea; however, by 29 June, they were tasked with assisting American operations.[3] In cabling this news to the Australian Ambassador to the United States, Norman Makin, the Minister for External Affairs, Percy Spender, noted the presence of No. 77 Squadron, Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF), in Japan. However, he stressed it represented ‘practically the whole of our effective operational fighter strength in Australia or elsewhere.’[4]
Group portrait of No. 77 Fighter Squadron, RAAF, 26 September 1948. Identified, left to right, back row: Warrant Officer (WO) Jim Flemming; WO W. Michelson; Flying Officer (FO) W. Horsman; WO M. Garroway; WO W. Rivers; Flight Lieutenant (Flt Lt) C.R. Noble; WO Fairweather; Flt Lt J. Grey; FO K. McLeod; WO B. Nichols; Flt Lt T. Murphy. Front row: FO W.O.K. Hewett; Flt Lt R. Hill; Flt Lt W. Ives; Flt Lt C. Butcher; Flt Lt S. Bradford; Squadron Leader F. Lawrenson; Flt J.I. Adams; Flt Lt G. Strout; Flt Lt K. Godfrey. (Source: Australian War Memorial)
No. 77 Squadron had deployed to Japan as part of BCOF in 1946 as part of No. 81 Wing. In 1948, it was transferred to Iwakuni Air Base in Yamaguchi Prefecture, on the island of Honshu. The squadron had been re-equipped after the end of the Second World War with the North American P-51D Mustang. By June 1950, No. 77 Squadron was amid preparations to return to Australia, it having been announced in April that the remaining Australian forces in Japan would be repatriated. However, events overtook these preparations.
On 29 June, the same day the Australian Government contributed the RAN to the war in Korea, the Supreme Commander of the Allied Powers in Japan, General Douglas MacArthur, requested No. 77 Squadron for operations over the Korean Peninsula. He had been informed by his principal air commander, Commander of the Far East Air Forces (FEAF), Lieutenant General George Stratemeyer, that he was in desperate need of long-range ground attack aircraft. As the Australian Official Historian of the Korean War, Robert O’Neill related, MacArthur had cabled the Commander of BCOF, Lieutenant General Sir Horace Robertson, to request the use of No. 77 Squadron. However, he had sent the message uncoded and not kept it from the entourage of reporters that he had taken with him on his tour of South Korea.[5] Stratemeyer embellished MacArthur’s position by heaping praise on No. 77 Squadron. While the praise was not unwarranted, it was clearly designed for effect. Indeed, Stratemeyer and his planners at FEAF had, in the words of the United States Air Force’s official history of air operations over Korea, ‘cast covetous glances’ at No 77 Squadron and its P-51 Mustangs.[6] MacArthur’s request for the deployment of No. 77 Squadron was widely reported in the Australian media alongside Stratemeyer’s praise for the unit before the Australian Government had a chance to respond.[7]
MacArthur’s request put the Australian Government in a challenging position. They still hoped to send No. 77 Squadron back to Australia, but alliance politics took centre stage, and by 30 June it was announced that the squadron would be committed to operations.[8] MacArthur had got his way. However, while No. 77 Squadron was committed to action, it operated from Iwakuni and would operate over Korea, but not be deployed to the peninsula. Moreover, due to poor weather, it would take several days for No. 77 Squadron to undertake its first sorties.
The North American P-51D Mustang aircraft A68-809, flown by Wing Commander Lou Spence DFC, when commanding No. 77 Squadron, RAAF, in Korea. Spence flew this aeroplane on 2 July when leading the second mission of the day. (Source: Australian War Memorial)
On 2 July, No. 77 Squadron undertook three sorties. The first was an ‘armed escort’ of four P-51s led by Squadron Leader Graham Strout for US Douglas C-47 Dakotas evacuating wounded soldiers from ‘Taijon’ (Daejeon) in Korea to Japan. One P-51 (A68-799) had to return to Iwakuni due to being unserviceable after take-off. The second sortie was a ‘close-armed escort’ mission led by the squadron commander, Wing Commander Lou Spence. The mission was to escort a group of US Douglas B-26 Invaders who attacked two bridges south of Seoul. One P-51 (A68-757) had to return due to unserviceability. The final mission saw six P-51s provide ‘armed escort’ to US Boeing B-29 Superfortresses who were attacking Yonpo airfield at Hamhung.[9] Despite the return of two aeroplanes to Iwakuni due to unserviceability, the sorties were relatively uneventful, despite several newspapers reporting that No. 77 Squadron downed one or two Yakovlev Yak-9 fighters.[10] No enemy aeroplanes were recorded as being encountered, and only in the two final sorties was any form of anti-aircraft fire encountered, though they caused no problem for the squadron. After a relatively inauspicious start, No. 77 Squadron would soon turn its attention to offensive operations, launching its first ‘armed attack’ with eight P-51s armed with rockets, attacking a convoy on a stretch of road between Heitaku and Suwon on 3 July. The attack claimed two locomotives, one truck, two staff cars, four other vehicles, and a bridge.[11]
The significance of No. 77 Squadron’s deployment over Korea came not in what the squadron physically achieved but in what its presence represented to alliance politics. The squadron’s first operations were widely reported both in Australia and abroad. In Australia, No. 77 Squadron’s first operation was reported in a typically functional manner, with many newspapers simply reporting on the character of the sorties. Nevertheless, some newspapers reported on the significance of the sorties in terms of Australian strategic policy, both foreign and domestic. For example, on 3 July, the Brisbane Telegraph noted that while the deployment of small-scale RAAF and RAN forces to support the effort in Korea was warranted to ‘honour Australian commitments to the United Nations’, any larger-scale deployment would need parliamentary agreement.[12] However, as an editorial in The Canberra Times reported, the rapid deployment highlighted ‘[t]wo extremes in the making of major decisions on policy have been illustrated by the reactions of the Government and of the Labour Party to the outbreak of hostilities in Korea.’[13] In short, the Australian Government acted quickly. At the same time, the Labor Party could ‘even comment on the situation until a meeting is held in Sydney next Wednesday [5 July], at which the policy will be decided.’[14] Perhaps unsurprisingly, it was reported that the Australian Communist Party had condemned the use of the RAAF, describing their deployment as a ‘scandal and a disgrace’ and demanding ‘the withdrawal of the R.A.A.F, from Korea.’[15]
More significantly, in the US, the rapid response of the Australian Government was noted. On 2 September, the Washington Evening Star reported on that ‘[t]he first combat mission of the Australians […] had a political significance. It made the air war a United Nations show […] No longer was the United States conducting any part of the Korean “police action” alone.’[16] That the term ‘political significance’ was used would not have been lost on readers, and a copy of this article was provided to the Department of External Affairs, as it aligned with Australian views on alliance politics.[17] Indeed, on 27 June, Makin had cabled Canberra to note that ‘the war had created a useful opportunity for putting to the State Department’ the creation of a ‘regional arrangement […] might help meet further crises.’[18] Thus, the failure to deploy No. 77 Squadron would have been inopportune and also demonstrated that, while a small contribution to the war effort, it had a significant political impact.
Thus ended the first day of operations for No. 77 Squadron over Korea. The squadron would deploy to Korea in October 1950 and eventually be re-equipped with the Gloster Meteor F.8. It would serve in Korea until October 1954, when it would transfer back to Japan and subsequently to Australia.
Dr Ross Mahoney is an independent scholar specialising in the history of war, with a particular focus on the use of air power and the history of air warfare. He is the Editor-in-Chief of From Balloons to Drones and currently the Senior Historian within the Heritage Policy team at Brisbane City Council in Australia. He has nearly 20 years of experience in the education, museum and heritage sectors in Australia and the United Kingdom, including serving as the inaugural Historian at the Royal Air Force Museum between 2013 and 2017. His other research interests are military leadership and command, military culture, and the history and development of professional military education. He also maintains an interest in transport history. He has published numerous articles, chapters and encyclopedia entries, edited two books, and delivered papers on three continents. His website is here.
Header image: North American P-51D Mustangs of 77 Squadron RAAF, lined up on the tarmac at Iwakuni air base, Japan, c. 1950. (Source: Australian War Memorial)
[1] This is an overly simplified description of the development of the two Koreas in the period after the Second World War. For more detail, see: Allan Millett, The War for Korea, 1945-1950: A House Burning (Lawrence, KS: University Press of Kansas, 2005).
[2] Robert O’Neill, Australia in the Korean War, 1950-53 – Volume 1: Strategy and Diplomacy (Canberra, ACT: The Australian War Memorial and the Australian Government Publishing Service, 1981), p. 49.
[3] National Archives of Australia (NAA), A1838, 3123/7/3/4 PART 1, Statement by the Prime Minister, 29 June 1950; ‘Australia Backs U.N.,’ The Herald, 29 June 1950, p. 1; ‘Australian Units for Korea, Ships and Planes,’ Lithgow Mercury, 29 June 1950, 2.
[4] O’Neill, Australia in the Korean War, 1950-53 – Volume 1, p. 51.
[5] O’Neill, Australia in the Korean War, 1950-53 – Volume 1, pp. 51-2. On the repercussions, or lack thereof, of MacArthur’s ‘leak,’ see: O’Neill, Australia in the Korean War, 1950-53 – Volume 1, p. 54. Cameron Forbes claimed MacArthur told Australian Roy Macartney, who was Chief of the AAP-Reuters office in Tokyo. See: Cameron Forbes, ‘Fighting in the Giants’ Playground: Australians in the Korean War’ in John Blaxland, Micheal Kelly and Liam Brewin Higgins (eds.), In from the Cold: Reflections on Australia’s Korean War (Canberra, ACT, ANU Press, 2020), p. 89. Macartney certainly filed a story that was picked up by several newspapers. For example, see: ‘Australian Fighters Sought by MacArthur,’ The Canberra Times, 30 June 1950, p. 1; ‘MacArthur Seeks Use of Australian Fighters in Korea,’ Border Morning Mail, 30 June 1950, p. 1; ‘MacArthur Wants Australian Fighter Planes,’ Daily Advertiser, 30 June 1950, p. 1. O’Neill noted the presence of Macartney of MacArthur’s aeroplane but does not explicitly note that the latter told the former that he wanted No. 77 Squadron. O’Neill, Australia in the Korean War, 1950-53 – Volume 1, p. 51.
[6] Robert Futrell, The United States Air Force in Korea, 1950-1953 (New York, NY: Duell, Sloan and Pearce, 1961), p. 64.
[7] “R.A.A.F. Fighters Sought for South Korea,’ The Sydney Morning Herald, 30 June 1950, p. 1; ‘RAAF asked to Fight with U.S.,’ Daily Mirror, 30 June 1950, p. 1; ‘MacArthur Back; Wants to Use R.A.A.F.,’ Illawarra Daily Mercury, 30 June 1950, p. 1; ‘Mac Arthur asks for the R.A.A.F.,’ The Courier-Mail, 30 June 1950, p. 1; “Wants R.A.A.F. for Korea,’ The Mercury, 30 June 1950, p. 1.
[8] NAA, A1838, 3123/7/3/4 PART 1, Statement by the Prime Minister, 30 June 1950.
[9] NAA, A9186, 103, Detail of Operations, No. 77 Squadron, Operations Record Book, 2 July 1950.
[10] ‘RAAF Mustangs Escort Bombers,’ The Herald, 3 July 1950, p. 3; ‘RAAF Mustangs in a Mission which downs a Red,’ The Daily News, 3 July 1950, p. 1.
[11] NAA, A9186, 103, Detail of Operations, No. 77 Squadron, Operations Record Book, 3 July 1950.
[12] ‘Emergency Call to Parlt.,’ Brisbane Telegraph, 3 July 1950, p. 2
[13] ‘Policies on Korea,’ The Canberra Times, 3 July 1950, p. 4.
[14] ‘Policies on Korea,’ The Canberra Times, 3 July 1950, p. 4.
[15] ‘Communists in Stoney Attack Prime Minister,’ The Canberra Times, 3 July 1950, p. 1.
[16] NAA, A1838, 3123/7/3/4 PART 1, Brooks McClure, ‘Aussies Make Quick Contribution to War,’ Washington Evening Star, 2 September 1950. McClure’s article also noted the importance of the deployment of RAN ships.
[17] NAA, A1838, 3123/7/3/4 PART 1, Memorandum to the Secretary, Department of External Affairs, 5 September 1950.
[18] O’Neill, Australia in the Korean War, 1950-53 – Volume 1, p. 53.
Editorial note: This article first appeared on the author’s website. It has been reproduced here with permission.
The Korean War is often described as the ‘Forgotten War’ due to it being sandwiched between the more commonly known Second World War and the Vietnam War. Furthermore, a debate persists over its character, with some referring to it as ‘police action.’ Despite this, the Korean War has received its fair share of examination by historians since the conflict ended. Arguably, the most comprehensive history in the English language is Allan Millett’s history of the conflict. So far, two volumes of The War for Korea (2005 and 2010) out of a projected three have been published, covering the period up to 1951. From an Australian perspective, the late Jeffrey Grey’s work on the role of British Commonwealth armies, The Commonwealth Armies and the Korean War (1988), remains a key work.
In addition to Grey’s work, the key source on Australia’s involvement in the Korean War remains the two-volume official history written by Robert O’Neill. Starting research in 1970, O’Neill’s two-volume history dealt with strategy and diplomacy in its first volume, while the second volume covered the combat operations of the military forces deployed, including the experience of the Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF). While the first volume has generally been praised, the second volume has been described by at least one critic as a ‘regimental history.[1] Indeed, with specific reference to the RAAF’s contribution, Glen St John Barclay questioned the validity of volume two, arguing ‘if one is not going to make even a passing reference to the aviators of the US Air Force and Navy who achieved total command of the skies for the United Nations Forces in Korea. This is Hamlet without the Prince of Denmark, indeed.’[2]
O’Neill’s appointment nevertheless marked a significant departure from previous official historians, who were journalists by background. Here, the Australian Government made a conscious decision to appoint an academic – O’Neill also served as the Head of the Australian National University’s Strategic and Defence Studies Centre at the time he researched and wrote the official history. Since O’Neill’s appointment, the subsequent official histories published in Australia have adopted a significantly more academic tone. Moreover, as Peter Edwards, the Official Historian of Australia’s involvement in Southeast Asian Conflicts, 1948-1975 has written, O’Neill ‘pioneered the coverage in official histories of the strategic and diplomatic policy-making that led Australian forces to be involved in conflicts, with the same precision and authority as had always been given to the experience of those forces.’ [3]
A South African Air Force North American F-86F Sabre from No. 2 Squadron at Tsuiki air base, Japan, in 1953. No. 2 Squadron SAAF was attached to the US Air Force 18th Fighter-Bomber Wing during the Korean War. (Source: Wikimedia)
Returning to air power, the historiography is generally dominated by accounts detailing the role of primarily the United States Air Force, with some attention paid to US naval air power and the role of US Marine Corps aviation. Key amongst these is Conrad Crane’s American Airpower Strategy in Korea (2000). Crane is critical of the USAF’s official history published by Robert Futrell in the 1960s, noting that The United States Air Force in Korea, 1950-1953 (1961) ‘emphasizes the success of air power in Korea and not the air force’s failure to learn enough from that ordeal.’[4] The role of naval aviation is dealt with in Richard Hallion’s 1986 work, The Naval Air War in Korea. Xiaoming Zhang’s 1998 article in The Journal of Military History and his 2002 book Red Wings over the Yalu remain the key works in the English language that examine the Chinese and Soviet use of air power over Korea.[5] Of interest is John Sherwood’s 1996 cultural history of US pilots during the Korean War, Officers in Flight Suits: The Story of American Air Force Fighter Pilots in the Korean War. In addition to these works, a useful general introduction to the subject can be found in Michael Napier’s 2021 history, Korean Air War.
Dealing with Australian air power, writing on the experience of the RAAF began even before the war had ended when George Odgers published Across the Parallel in 1952. Odgers had served as a public relations officer for the RAAF in Korea and had access to No. 77 Squadron that would have been hitherto unheard of for other writers of the time. The work was generally well received at the time of its publication, although it is now somewhat dated. Odgers would later write a biography of Wing Commander Richard Cresswell, Mr Double Seven (2008), who commanded No. 77 Squadron during 1951. Few personnel accounts of the RAAF’s involvement in the air war over Korea have been published. A notable exception is Colin King’s Luck is No Accident (2001).
Little was published on the RAAF’s operations in Korea until the arrival in 1994 of David Wilson’s Lion Over Korea. The RAAF’s role in Korea was discussed by Alan Stephens in the second volume of the Air Force’s official history, Going Solo, in 1995. Stephens’ work is arguably the most comprehensive treatment of the campaign, despite the experience in Korea warranting only a single chapter. The volume, however, situates the deployment in context and links it to other ongoing issues in the history of the RAAF at the time. Then, at the turn of the 21st Century, Doug Hurst published The Forgotten Few (2000) while more recently Owen Zupp has published an account of Australia’s contribution to the air war (2024).
Despite the lack of personal accounts and Hurst’s contention that the No. 77 Squadron represented a ‘forgotten few,’ there has been a surprising amount published for what was ostensibly a small contribution to the war effort. Nevertheless, there are problems. While it might be argued that much has been written about the RAAF’s contribution to the air war, their contribution can still be overlooked. For example, In from the Cold, a 2020 edited collection reflecting on Australia’s contribution to the Korean War, did not include a chapter on the RAAF. Based on a 2011 conference at the Australian War Memorial, the event featured chapters on the Australian Army and the Battle of Maryang San, as well as the four-month deployment of the Royal Australian Navy’s aircraft carrier, HMAS Sydney. However, the closest we see the RAAF discussed is in a chapter on coalition air operations by Richard Hallion.[6]
Additionally, apart from Stephens’ work, the cited works above primarily focus on the experience of No. 77 Squadron. Little attempt is made to link expertise back to the development and operations of the RAAF in Australia and other places such as Malaya. Indeed, any consideration of Australian air power strategy in this period cannot separate Korea from Malaya, as the two campaigns were clearly linked in the mind of the Australian government.[7]
Dr Ross Mahoney is an independent scholar specialising in the history of war, with a particular focus on the use of air power and the history of air warfare. He is the Editor-in-Chief of From Balloons to Drones and currently the Senior Historian within the Heritage Policy team at Brisbane City Council in Australia. He has nearly 20 years of experience in the education, museum and heritage sectors in Australia and the United Kingdom, including serving as the inaugural Historian at the Royal Air Force Museum between 2013 and 2017. His other research interests are military leadership and command, military culture, and the history and development of professional military education. He also maintains an interest in transport history. He has published numerous articles, chapters and encyclopedia entries, edited two books, and delivered papers on three continents. His website is here.
Header image: A United States Air Force North American F-86 Sabre parked alongside Gloster Meteor Mk8s on No. 77 Squadron of the Royal Australian Air Force at Iwakuni in Japan, June 195. (Source: Australian War Memorial)
[1] Glen St John Barcley, ‘Australian Historians and the Study of War, 1975-88,’ Australian Journal of Politics & History 41, no. 1 (1995), p. 241.
[2] Barclay, ‘Australian Historians and the Study of War,’ p. 241.
[3] Peter Edwards, ‘Robert O’Neill and the Australian Official War Histories: Policy and Diplomacy’ in Daniel Marston and Tamara Leahy (eds.), War, Strategy and History: Essays in Honour of Professor Robert O’Neill (Canberra, ACT: ANU Press, 2016), p. 71.
[4] Wayne Thompson, ‘Book Review – American Airpower Strategy in Korea, 1950-1953 by Conrad Crane,’ Journal of American History 87, no. 4 (2001), p. 1565.
[5] Xiaoming Zhang, ‘China and the Air War in Korea, 1950-1953,’ The Journal of Military History 62, no. 2, (1998), pp. 335–70.
[6] Richard Hallion, ‘The Air War in Korea: Coalition Air Power in the Context of Limited War’ in John Blaxland, Michael Kelly and Brewin Higgins (eds.), In from the Cold: Reflections of Australia’s Korean War (Canberra, ACT: ANU Press, 2020), p. 129, 141.
[7] Mark Lax, Malayan Emergency and Indonesian Confrontation, 1950 to 1966 (Newport, NSW: Big Sky Publishing, 2021), p. 75.
James R. Hansen, A Reluctant Icon: Letters to Neil Armstrong. West Lafayette, IN: Purdue University Press, 2020. Notes. Hbk. 384 pp.
There are new air power scholarship releases all the time. One need look no further than the academic press catalogues for the University Press of Kentucky, University of North Texas Press, and Naval Institute Press (to name a few) to see what is up and coming. As the book reviews editor for From Balloons to Drones, I often receive books or ask for them in advance with promises of a ‘review forthcoming,’ it is all too easy to fall behind. Thus, this book review comes several years in arrears. So, please note that the book covered below was published in the year following the 50th anniversary of Apollo 11.
Now that the hype for #Apollo11, #Apollo50, and all things Apollo program has died following the 50-year celebrations from 2018-2023 (coinciding with Apollo 7-17), there is time for reflection on the Golden Age of Spaceflight. Even as the Space Shuttle moves into distant memory, there continues to be a deep draw towards America’s space pioneers, and no one individual better encapsulates that draw than Neil Armstrong, the enigmatic first man on the moon, and no one better understands Armstrong than his biographer Dr James R. Hansen. Hansen spent hundreds of hours with Armstrong in writing the biography First Man: The Life of Neil A. Armstrong. His second book (from Purdue University Press) on Armstrong was Dear Neil Armstrong: Letters to the First Man from All Mankind, reviewed here. This is Hansen’s third book about Armstrong, and he has not ruled out writing more. This most recent volume, A Reluctant Icon: Letters to Neil Armstrong, is part of the Purdue University Press series: Purdue Studies in Aeronautics and Astronautics.
Since he published First Man in 2005, there has been an explosion of books, podcasts, magazines, toys, and other ephemera available to purchase as a memory or remembrance of the end of the golden age of spaceflight. Books include Jay Barbree’s 2014 Neil Armstrong: A Life of Flight. The Lego Brick Company produced a hugely successful series of building sets, including the Saturn V, Lunar Rover, and Lunar Lander. All this falls under what Hansen calls the ‘Iconography and myth’ of Armstrong and what I have labelled as ‘The Cottage Industry of Neil Armstrong’ culminating in one of the most sought-after signatures in history for collectors, running from $2,000 to $10,000 depending on the medium.
In writing his two ‘Letters to…’ works, Hansen had, for the first time, complete access to Armstrong’s papers now housed in the archives at Purdue University (p. xi). This second book is broken down into six chapters. It contains letters, and sometimes responses, concerning first, religion and belief; second, anger, disappointment and disillusionment; third, quacks, conspiracy theories, and Ufologists; fourth, fellow astronauts and the world of flight; fifth, the corporate world; sixth, celebrities, stars, and notables, and finally, letters from a grieving world.
In ‘Religion and Belief,’ most of the letters projects onto Neil being a devout Christian – Armstrong was a Deist. Neil responded by ‘ignoring their questions or sidestepping the issue of religion altogether’ (p. 5). While most of the letters in this chapter are benign, Armstrong did receive some bizarre and ‘kooky’ letters over many years.
Chapters two and three, ‘Anger, disappointment and disillusionment’ and ‘Quacks, conspiracy theories, and, Ufologists’ complement each other in that the letters Armstrong received (Hanson notes these represented less than one per cent of all letters he received) read like online comment sections: sometimes interesting, rarely thought-provoking, often ad hominem. Hansen includes a selection here: ‘Without taking such letters into account, the iconography involving Neil Armstrong, sadly, is incomplete.’
Of most interest to the readers of this website are the many letters found in the chapter ‘Fellow Astronauts and the World of Flight.’ Armstrong received numerous letters from his fellow astronauts, but he remained close, with very few of them, Jim Lovell and Gene Cernan being the notable exceptions. Hansen shows Jim Irwin’s request for a gathering of moonwalkers that never came to fruition, Al Bean passing along pieces of the Apollo Saturn V, which fell to Earth, and correspondence with Al Shepard and Jim Lovell attempting to enlist Armstrong’s involvement in ventures including the Astronaut Scholarship fund. Even amongst friends and colleagues, Armstrong remained an intensely private person.
The rest of the work, including the corporate world, celebrities, stars, and notables, and letters from a grieving world, all help to put into perspective who Armstrong was and not just the man who made the one giant leap. In many of the above, people wanted something from Armstrong: an autograph, a response, or some enigmatic comfort. Studying Armstrong is something akin to the study of Jefferson; one biography is not enough, and proper understanding can only come through diligent study of correspondence and letters, so Hansen is to be commended for providing a glimpse here and providing access to that which is otherwise available only in archives and special collections. The two volumes of Armstrong’s letters will surely appeal to those interested in Armstrong, the Apollo program, and those looking for something beyond the regular biography, a taste of source documentation in book form. Hansen is not only the best source to begin and end with if one is interested in studying the life of Neil Armstrong, but he is also one of the most outstanding living scholars of aeronautics and astronautics.
Dr Brian Laslie is a US Air Force Historian and Command Historian at the United States Air Force Academy. Formerly, he was the Deputy Command Historian at the North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD) and United States Northern Command (USNORTHCOM). A 2001 graduate of The Citadel and a historian of air power studies, he received his Masters’ from Auburn University Montgomery in 2006 and his PhD from Kansas State University in 2013. He is the author of Air Power’s Lost Cause: The American Air Wars of Vietnam (2021), Architect of Air Power: General Laurence S. Kuter and the Birth of the US Air Force (2017) and The Air Force Way of War (2015). The latter book was selected for the Chief of Staff of the Air Force’s 2016 professional reading list and the 2017 RAF Chief of the Air Staff’s reading list.
Header Image: Neil Armstrong is seen here next to the X-15 ship #1 after a research flight. Armstrong made his first X-15 flight on November 30, 1960, in the #1 X-15. He made his second flight on December 9, 1960, in the same aircraft. This was the first X-15 flight to use the ball nose, accurately measuring airspeed and flow angle at supersonic and hypersonic speeds. The servo-actuated ball nose can be seen in this photo in front of Armstrong’s right hand. The X-15 employed a non-standard landing gear. It had a nose gear with a wheel and tyre, but the main landing consisted of skids mounted at the vehicle’s rear. The left skid is visible in the photo, as are marks on the lakebed from both skids. Because of the skids, the rocket-powered aircraft could only land on a dry lakebed, not on a concrete runway. (Source: NASA)
There was not too much dogfighting for us. It requires a large area and is absolutely defensive.[1]
Erich Hartmann
Colonel John R. Boyd flew F-86 Sabres during the Korean War and later theorised the Observation-Orientation-Decision-Action (OODA) loop, initially focused on air-to-air combat. At first, Boyd considered the tactical requirements of test flight dogfights between the YF-16 and YF-17 prototypes in 1974 before analysing Sabre and MiG-15 combat in Korea. He expressed the basic idea of the OODA loop in a United States Air Force (USAF) oral history in 1977, although it was not fully formed with its familiar four stages.[2] However, it is not commonly known that another F-86 pilot had theorised a four-stage air-to-air combat ‘decision cycle’ in the 1940s – Luftwaffe pilot Erich Hartmann.
A signed copy of a photo of Erich Hartmann during the Second World War. (Source: Imperial War Museum)
During the Second World War, Hartmann flew 1,404 combat missions, participated in 825 air-to-air engagements and became history’s highest-scoring ace with 352 official kills, mainly over the Eastern Front.[3] During the Cold War, he later commanded West Germany’s first Sabre wing Jagdgeschwader 71 ‘Richthofen.’[4] Hartmann theorised the ‘Coffee Break’ concept, abbreviated as See-Decide-Attack-Break (SDAB). Writets Trevor J. Constable and Raymond F. Toliver articulated the idea in their bestseller The Blond Knight of Germany (1970), the first Hartmann biography, almost half a decade before the OODA loop emerged. Although their book romanticises the German military and fails to address Hartmann’s relationship with National Socialism adequately, it accurately depicts air combat tactics. In contrast, historian Erik Schmidt’s Black Tulip: The Life and Myth of Erich Hartmann, the World’s Top Fighter Ace (2020) thoroughly examines Hartmann’s role in the Third Reich and his fighter pilot career, which makes his book essential reading.
Hartmann and Boyd, in addition to flying Sabres and developing ‘decision cycles’, had much else in common. They were both aggressive fighter pilots with maverick independent streaks who declared war on their hierarchy late in their careers. Hartmann rebelled by opposing the F-104 Starfighter, which he considered unsafe, while Boyd went outside his chain of command to develop the unwanted Lightweight Fighter project.[5] Both men also retired as colonels in the 1970s.
At first glance, the SDAB cycle and the OODA loop are hard to distinguish. As John Stillion expressed: ‘Hartmann’s air combat procedure is strikingly similar to USAF Colonel John Boyd’s famous Observe, Orient, Decide, Act, or “OODA” loop.’[6] However, there is a critical difference. In an air combat context, the OODA loop is about winning dogfights, while the SDAB cycle is all about avoiding them. Additionally, Boyd’s OODA loop theory evolved from air combat to include land combat and then conflict in general before becoming a cognitive model explaining the mind’s relationship with reality. Hartmann’s method, as Schmidt concluded, is not ‘really a dogfighting strategy per se. It was more of an anti-dogfighting strategy.’[7]
Take a Coffee Break
Hartmann enlisted in the Luftwaffe in 1940 and joined Jagdgeschwader 52 in October 1942, flying Messerschmitt Bf 109 fighters. He initially became a wingman for Edmund Rossmann, who mentored the novice pilot. Rossmann had already been credited with over 80 kills, giving his advice considerable merit.[8] Hartmann learned that Rossmann had a wounded arm that prevented him from flying highly manoeuvrable dogfights, but he compensated for this injury by developing a specific tactic. After spotting the enemy, Rossmann patiently assessed the situation before deciding whether to attack. If he decided that surprise could be achieved, he would attack, which differed from the standard practice of immediately attacking a seen enemy.[9] Hartmann later reflected that Rossmann ‘taught me the basic technique of the surprise attack, without which I am convinced I would have become just another dogfighter.’[10] What Rossmann did out of necessity, Hartmann would soon do out of choice.
Hartmann scored his first aerial victory on 5 November 1942 by shooting down an Il-2 Sturmovik. However, shrapnel from the kill damaged his engine, forcing him to crash. While recovering in the hospital, Hartmann began to formulate his conception of air combat after reflecting that he should have approached closer before opening fire and disengaged quicker to prevent shrapnel from hitting his engine. Hartmann later recalled: ‘I learned two things that day: Get in close and shoot, and break away immediately after scoring the kill.’[11] Hartmann later formulated his trademark method, as Constable and Raymond explained:
The magical four steps were: “See – Decide – Attack – Reverse, or ‘Coffee Break’.” In lay terms, spot the enemy, decide if he can be attacked and surprised, attack him and break away immediately after striking; or if he spots you before you strike, take a “coffee break” – wait – pull off the enemy and don’t get into a turning battle with a foe who knows you are there.[12]
In a USAF interview in 1985, Hartmann was asked, “How did you develop your tactics of See, Decide, Attack, Reverse, or Coffee Break?” He answered:
I developed my tactics by watching my leader. My first leader, MSgt Eduard Rossmann, was always cautious. He said he didn’t like to pull a lot of Gs because of a bad shrapnel wound in his arm. He would look over each fight and decide if he would enter. When he did enter, it was always straight through – no turns – and he usually came home with a kill. My next leader, Sgt Hans Dammers, liked to turn and fly in the circus. The next man, 1st Lt Josef Swernemann was somewhere in between the two. He would be patient for a while, but then would get into a turning fight when he got frustrated. This is when I realized you must fight with your head, not your muscle.[13]
Hartmann rejected dogfighting as he considered it pointless and risky: ‘I also decided against aerial acrobatics, against what traditional pilots would call dog-fighting […] Acrobatics are a waste of time and therefore dangerous.’[14] Hartmann would always try to break contact after a pass before deciding if another pass was warranted and, as Constable and Raymond explained, ‘[e]ach pass was a repetition of the “See – Decide – Attack – Break” cycle.’[15]
Hartmann’s method was essentially hit-and-run tactics. As social scientists C. Hind and A. Nicolaides explained: ‘Hartmann became the ultimate and leading exponent of the stalk-and-ambush tactics, and he favoured the tactic of ambushing enemy aircraft and firing at them from very close range, about 20 m, rather than becoming involved in challenging and unnecessary dogfights.’[16]
The SDAB cycle is usually only mentioned in popular military aviation histories and is rarely referred to in scholarship. Edward E. Eddowes, who worked at the Air Force Human Resources Laboratory, submitted a paper to the First Symposium on Aviation Psychology in 1981. He declared: ‘Each engagement involves repetitions of the see, decide, attack, break discrimination-decision sequence. Like many of his predatory predecessors, Hartmann found turning contests hazardous and avoided them.’[17]
In another example, Captain James H. Patton, Jr., a retired naval officer, in his article ‘Stealth is a Zero-Sum Game: A Submariner’s View of the Advanced Tactical Fighter’ considered the SDAB cycle in 1991:
Top Gun instructors interpreted that terse guidance – based on interviews with Hartmann – to mean that a pilot should attempt to detect without being detected, judge whether he can attack covertly, close to a point that would almost assure a kill, and then disengage rapidly to repeat the process, rather than hang around in what submariners call a melee, and fighter pilots term the visual fur ball.[18]
Mikel D. Petty and Salvador E. Barbosa conducted an interesting air simulation experiment. They noted that USAF instructors supervise trainees undergoing virtual simulation-based training.[19] However, given the limited availability of instructors, they devised a means of testing a self-study-based training approach through simulation by following the progress of one test subject over eight years. The virtual pilot flew 2,950 missions in 138 campaigns using seven types of aircraft set in Europe in 1943-45 using Microsoft Combat Flight Simulator 3 (CFS3). The experiment required the subject to read air combat literature before applying the described tactics in the simulation. The study material included The Blond Knight of Germany, which outlined the SDAB cycle.[20] Petty and Barbosa confirmed the effectiveness of the SDAB cycle as ‘maneuvers and tactics described as effective in WWII air combat in the literature, e.g., those in Franks (1998) and Toliver and Constable (1970), were found by the subject to be very effective in CFS3 as well, if performed correctly.’[21]
The SDAB cycle has limitations, and Schmidt correctly concluded that it was well-suited to the Eastern Front but had less utility in Western Europe: ‘Hartmann’s Soviet enemies were, generally, less capable than the British and American pilots on the Western Front, which meant not only that they were easier to shoot down, but also that they were easier to evade and disengage from if the odds weren’t right.’[22] Therefore, applying SDAB cycles consistently in practice is impossible, and some dogfighting is inevitable, making the OODA loop relevant.
The OODA Loop
Boyd was familiar with Hartmann and mentioned him once in the 1977 USAF oral history stating that ‘[A]nd so, in that sense, a guy like Hartmann or a guy like Bong [Maj Richard I.] and some of these other good American aces – I could name others from other countries – they kind of knew they were going to win anyway. Maybe not in the beginning, but they built up that certain confidence and they had the desire.’[23] However, it is unclear if he read The Blond Knight of Germany or other references to the SDAB cycle, so we do not know if Hartmann influenced the OODA loop.[24] In any case, both models are opposites, so there is no suggestion of plagiarism. The basic idea of the OODA loop is to move faster than the enemy through a four-stage cycle, as military analyst Franklin C. Spinney, a close acolyte of Boyd, explained:
He [Boyd] thought that any conflict could be viewed as a duel wherein each adversary observes (O) his opponent’s actions, orients (O) himself to the unfolding situation, decides (D) on the most appropriate response or countermove, then acts (A). The competitor who moves through this OODA-loop cycle the fastest gains an inestimable advantage by disrupting his enemy’s ability to respond effectively.[25]
The victor, moving faster, seizes the initiative while the loser becomes paralysed by disorientation and panic.[26] The winner gets inside the loser’s OODA loop, which allows the pilot to manoeuvre into a winning firing position during a dogfight.[27] The OODA loop requires both pilots to dogfight long enough and complete enough loops for the winner to gain a relative speed advantage, which begins to sow disorientation and panic in the loser’s mind. More specifically, the pilots must complete enough OODA loops for the winner’s relative speed advantage to result in an action that changes the overall situation.[28] When this occurs, the loser’s actions, based upon the superseded earlier situation, fail to achieve the intended result, and they become confused as negative feedback overloads their brain. A pilot simply shooting down an enemy Hartmann-style before a clash of opposing OODA loops can occur is not applying Boyd’s model. If the OODA loop involved surprise and winning before the opponent reacts, there would be nothing original about the idea or way to distinguish it from the earlier SDAB cycle meaningfully.
The key difference between Hartmann and Boyd is that the SDAB cycle avoids dogfighting while the OODA loop requires dogfighting. Boyd was fixated on dogfighting as Frans P.B. Osinga explained: ‘[H]e [Boyd] developed the ability to see air combat as a contest of moves and countermoves in time, a contest in which a repertoire of moves and the agility to transition from one to another quickly and accurately in regard [to] the opponent’s options was essential.’[29]
Boyd’s manual Aerial Attack Study (1964), first published in 1960, explained all possible dogfighting manoeuvres without prescribed solutions.[30] Osinga concluded that Boyd ‘wanted to show people various moves and countermoves, and the logic of its dynamic.’[31]Aerial Attack Study reads like a chess strategy book. It is undoubtedly valuable, as Grant Hammond explained: ‘[M]any a fighter pilot, whether he knows it or not, owes his life to Boyd and the development of the tactics and manoeuvres explained in that manual.’[32] Former students who fought in Vietnam credit Boyd’s teaching for getting them out of danger. For example, on 4 April 1965, Major Vernon M. Kulla engaged North Vietnamese MiG-17s while flying an F-105 Thunderchief. Before the MiG-17 could open fire, Kulla successfully conducted a snap roll that he learned from Boyd, forcing the communist pilot to overshoot.[33] Therefore, Boyd certainly taught useful air-to-air tactical skills.
Despite Boyd’s obsession with dogfighting, it is rarer than many assume. Historically speaking, in most cases, victory goes to the pilot, who spots the enemy first and wins before the opponent can react. As Barry D. Watts explained:
To start with historical combat data, combat experience going at least back to World War II suggests that surprise in the form of the unseen attacker has been pivotal in three-quarters or more of the kills. For example, P-38 pilot Lieutenant Colonel Mark Hubbard stressed that, in his experience over northern Europe with the U.S. Eighth Air Force, “90% of all fighters shot down never saw the guy who hit them.” Similarly, the German Me-109 pilot Erich Hartmann […] has stated that he was “sure that eighty percent” of his kills “never knew he was there before he opened fire.”[34]
This trend continued during the Vietnam War from April 1965 to January 1973, as approximately 80 per cent of personnel shot down from both sides never saw the other aircraft or had insufficient time to make a countermove.[35] Accordingly, Watts concluded: ‘[W]hat historical air combat experience reveals, therefore, is that upwards of 80 per cent of the time, those shot down were unaware that they were under attack until they either were hit or did not have time to react.’[36]
Most air-to-air kills did not involve dogfighting and, consequently, clashes of opposing OODA loops involving sequences of moves and countermoves. Most air-to-air engagements end before the loser has time to act. Even when dogfighting occurs, it can be over in seconds, as Schmidt explained:
Amazingly, the whole dance of a dogfight could take place over the course of just a few seconds. The famed American pilot Robin Olds, who flew P-38s and P-51s in World War II and F-4 Phantoms in Vietnam, said: “Usually in the first five seconds of a dogfight, somebody dies. Somebody goes down. You want to make sure it’s the other guy.”[37]
Therefore, the OODA loop is not always applicable in dogfights because other factors often decide the outcome before the winner’s faster speed can generate negative feedback in the loser’s mind, which is a more gradual process involving moves and countermoves.
Boyd, without intending to, contradicted the essence of the OODA loop by expressing a sentiment identical to the SDAB cycle:
So that’s why he [the fighter pilot] wants to pick and choose engagement opportunities. He wants to get in, get out, get in, and get out. Why does he want to do that? Because it’s not just one-to-one air-to-air combat up here. It’s what the pilots like to say, many-upon-many. In other words, if you’re working over one guy, somebody else is going come in and blindside you. So you want to spend as little time with a guy as possible. You need to get in, gun him, and get the hell out.[38]
Ironically, Boyd preferred the hit-and-run essence of the SDAB cycle, as picking and choosing engagement opportunities and cycles of getting in and out to avoid danger sounds just like Hartmann. Therefore, engaging in an elongated OODA loop duel with another pilot is inherently risky due to the possible presence of other enemy fighters. However, there is still a critical difference as Boyd believed that the best way to break contact was by conducting a ‘fast transient’ – a rapid transition from one manoeuvre to another that allows a pilot to kill before quickly disengaging.[39] However, a pilot can only conduct a ‘fast transient’ if they are already in a dogfight. Hartmann instead preferred to dive at an unsuspecting enemy using superior speed in a single pass and then to use the momentum gained to break contact without any acrobatics, dogfighting or ‘fast transients’.
Boyd also stressed: ‘[T]hink of it in space and time. In space, you’re trying to stay inside his manoeuvre; in time, you want to do it over a very short period of time, otherwise you’re going to become vulnerable to somebody else.’[40] Therefore, Boyd advocated elongated OODA loop duels to gradually generate negative feedback while inconsistently wanting to restrict engagements to minimal periods due to the risk of other enemy fighters. Ultimately, Boyd failed to reconcile the need to rapidly break contact after an attack to avoid danger with the time required for enough OODA loop cycles to generate disorientation and panic in the loser’s mind.
Aces and Iteration
The key advantage of the SDAB cycle is that it minimises risk. However, a pilot intending a surgical hit-and-run strike may inadvertently find themselves in a dogfight, and then the logic of the OODA loop might become paramount. Nevertheless, engaging in an OODA loop contest inherently makes one vulnerable. As Jim Storr explained: ‘[T]here is considerable advantage in reacting faster than one’s opponent, but the OODA Loop does not adequately describe the process. It places undue emphasis on iteration instead of tactically decisive action.’[41] After attacking, Hartmann would break contact to prevent iteration and only committed to further passes in favourable conditions. The avoidance of iteration is also evident in the tactical methods of other aces, and Storr stressed that ‘biographies of aces […] show almost no trace of iterative behaviour in combat.’[42] Hartmann’s tactics worked because he avoided dogfighting. As Storr similarly expressed:
Critically, aces scarcely ever dogfight. They usually destroy enemy aircraft with a single pass, and expend very little ammunition per aircraft shot down. Their effectiveness centres on rapid, decisive decision and action. It is based on superlative, largely intuitive, situational awareness. Aces do display some significant characteristics – their eyesight is usually exceptional and their shooting phenomenal. They also have catlike reactions. However, expert fighter combat is fundamentally not iterative. It is sudden, dramatic and decisive.[43]
Boyd valued manoeuvrability over speed, while Hartmann preferred speed over manoeuvrability. Neither is right or wrong, and there is undoubtedly a degree of pilot preference. Hartmann’s approach was only made possible by exceptional eyesight, which allowed him to apply successful SDAB cycles consistently. Understandably, pilots with poorer eyesight might prefer manoeuvrability. After all, most pilots never become aces, so there is value in applying lessons from both Hartmann and Boyd’s approaches.
Conclusion
Boyd advocated getting inside the enemy’s OODA loop to disrupt their decision-making process and force them to make defeat-inducing inappropriate actions. In contrast, Hartmann had no intention of getting inside the enemy’s ‘decision cycle’. He usually won before the enemy knew of his presence or had time to act. There is no need to disrupt the enemy’s decision-making process if they have no time or opportunity to make decisions, and in such circumstances, the OODA loop is redundant. As such, Boyd neglected the importance of who spots who first and the corresponding likelihood that most engagements will be decided before sequences of moves and countermoves can occur.
Of course, manoeuvrable dogfighting cannot always be avoided, so the OODA loop certainly has merit. For example, an F-35 Lightning II would ideally only shoot down unsuspecting enemy fighters with long-range missiles beyond visual range. However, it is armed with 25mm cannons just in case dogfighting occurs. Nevertheless, air-to-air engagements have declined since the Vietnam War, while situational awareness has dramatically increased due to improved radar and airborne early warning and control (AEW&C) platforms. Therefore, the ratio of air-to-air kills occurring beyond visual range will likely continue to increase. Consequently, the future of OODA loop-style dogfighting is uncertain but becoming increasingly rare. At the same time, the core of Hartmann’s method remains valid. Pilots can now ‘see’ at great range with radar and ‘decide’ whether to ‘attack’ with the assistance of AEW&C. However, there may be no need for a clean ‘break’ since pilots no longer must get close thanks to long-range missiles.
The OODA loop depicts air-to-air combat as a duel between two minds going through cycles in which both pilots have a ‘sporting chance’, which reflects the ‘Knights of the Air’ myth from the First World War.[44] In contrast, Hartmann was like a sniper, describing his preferred tactic as ‘[C]oming out of the sun and getting close; dog-fighting was a waste of time. The hit and run with the element of surprise served me well, as with most of the high scoring pilots.’[45] Boyd, in contrast, is like a chess enthusiast who loves the moves and countermoves of the game. However, OODA loop-like dogfights only occur in a minority of air-to-air encounters. Therefore, Boyd’s model only has limited utility in air combat.
The SDAB cycle demonstrates that the OODA loop is not the only ‘decision cycle’. Despite its impeccable origins in combat experience, Hartmann’s tactical method is not well-known today partly because he never transformed the SDAB cycle into a general theory of conflict. In contrast, Boyd considered the more abstract OODA loop to be a universal guide to military success, applicable beyond the air domain at all levels of conflict. Boyd also believed that the OODA loop explained any competitive endeavour – such as politics, business, and sports – as well as human cognitive processes and behaviour in general. As Osinga explained concerning Boyd’s final version of the OODA loop: ‘[I]t is a model of individual and organizational-level learning and adaptation processes, or – to use Boyd’s own terms – a meta-paradigm of mind and universe, a dialectic engine, an inductive-deductive engine of progress, a paradigm for survival and growth, and a theory of intellectual evolution.’[46] Hartmann never transformed his straightforward air-to-air tactic into something grander. Another reason the SDAB cycle is not well-known is that Hartmann did not devote his retirement to promoting the concept: ‘I instructed and flew at a few air clubs, and flew in an aerobatics team with Dolfo Galland. Later I just decided to relax and enjoy life.’[47] In contrast, Boyd spent much of his retirement expanding, refining and disseminating his theories, including the OODA loop.
Boyd considered the OODA loop a universal and unchangeable fact of life – we have OODA loops whether we like it or not, and that is the model that best explains our relationship with reality.[48] Therefore, Boyd became imprisoned by totalising thinking while Hartmann didn’t, primarily because he never overanalysed his model. The SDAB cycle was an artificial way of thinking based on experience and circumstance. Hartmann demonstrates that we can manufacture our own ‘decision cycles’ through trial and error, tailoring them to meet specific needs and requirements. He also reminds us that ‘decision cycles’ do not have to be grand cognitive models. Above all, we are free to choose and experiment as Hartmann did. Numerous ‘decision cycles’ can coexist with different strengths and weaknesses. Therefore, it makes no sense to select one model for every situation.
Although the OODA loop (dogfighting) and the SDAB cycle (anti-dogfighting) are opposites, they can be complementary when synthesized. The OODA loop and the SDAB cycle become the opposite ends of a broad spectrum of options between those extremes. Most pilots probably operate somewhere between those two poles, taking their talents, aircraft characteristics, and specific circumstances into account. Boyd would favour synthesising the OODA loop and the SDAB cycle because doing so precisely aligns with the dialectical logic he expressed in his enlightening article Destruction and Creation (1976).[49] He also championed synthesis through his snowmobile allegory in his remarkable briefing, TheStrategic Game of ? and ?.[50] The allegory is a thought experiment involving the image of a skier, a motorboat, a bicycle and a toy tractor. All these concepts can be broken down into sub-components through a destructive process, resulting in skis, motorboat engines, bicycle handlebars and rubber treads. These useful sub-components from different origins can then be reassembled into something new through a creative process, resulting in a new concept – a snowmobile. Boyd never stated that his ideas are exempt from the dialectical logic of destruction and creation. Therefore, subjecting the OODA loop to destruction and creation is inherently positive and can offer new insights into air combat.
Stephen Robinson is an officer in the Australian Army Reserve currently serving in the Australian Army History Unit. He is the author of False Flags: Disguised German Raiders of World War II (2016), Panzer Commander Hermann Balck: Germany’s Master Tactician (2019), The Blind Strategist: John Boyd and the American Art of War (2021) and Eight Hundred Heroes: China’s Lost Battalion and the Fall of Shanghai (2022).
Header image: A Canadair Sabre at the Militärhistorisches Museum der Bundeswehr – Flugplatz Berlin-Gatow in Hartmann markings from when he commanded JG71, c. 2007 (Source: Wikimedia)
[1] Quoted in Edward H. Sims, Fighter Tactics and Strategy 1914-1970 (New York: Harper and Row, 1972), p. 208.
[2] Boyd referred to the ‘observation-decision-action time scale’ in the interview, which is not yet the familiar OODA loop since it lacks the orientation stage. United States Air Force Historical Research Center, U.S. Air Force Oral History Interview, K239.0512-1066, Colonel John R. Boyd, Corona Ace, 28 January 1977, p. 132.
[3] Erik Schmidt, Black Tulip: The Life and Myth of Erich Hartmann, the World’s Top Fighter Ace (Philadelphia, PA: Casemate Publishers, 2020), p. xiii.
[5] Schmidt, Black Tulip, p. 134; Robert Coram, Boyd: The Fighter Pilot Who Changed the Art of War (New York: Hachette Book Group, 2002), p. 244.
[6] John Stillion, Trends in Air-to-Air Combat: Implications for Future Air Superiority (Washington DC: Center for Strategic and Budgetary Assessments, 2015), p. 6.
[8] Philip Kaplan, Fighter Aces of the Luftwaffe in World War II (Barnsley: Pen and Sword Books, 2007), p. 192.
[9] Trevor J. Constable and Raymond F. Toliver, The Blond Knight of Germany (New York: Ballantine Books, New York, 1970), pp. 43-4.
[10] Quoted in Kaplan, Fighter Aces of the Luftwaffe in World War II, p. 195.
[11] Colin D. Heaton, ‘Final Thoughts of the Blond Knight,’ World War II 17, no. 3 (2002), p. 33.
[12] Constable and Toliver, The Blond Knight of Germany, p. 55.
[13] Rich Martindell and Bill Mims, ‘An Interview with Erich Hartmann, the Ace of Aces,’ in Tac Attack (Washington DC: Department of the Air Force, 1985), p. 23.
[14] Quoted in William Tuohy, ‘German Pilot Reported 352 Kills Hope of Top WWII Flier: No Need for New Air Aces,’ Los Angeles Times, 3 January 1986.
[15] Constable and Toliver, The Blond Knight of Germany, p. 86.
[16] C. Hind and A. Nicolaides, ‘Ace of Aces: Erich Hartmann the Blond Knight of Germany,’ Open Journal of Social Sciences 8 (2020), pp. 388-9.
[17] Edward E. Eddowes, ‘Measuring Pilot Air Combat Maneuvering Performance’ in First Symposium on Aviation Psychology (The Ohio State University Columbus: The Aviation Psychology Laboratory, 1981), p. 340.
[18] James H. Patton, Jr., ‘Stealth is a Zero-Sum Game: A Submariner’s View of the Advanced Tactical Fighter,’ Airpower Journal 5, no. 1 (1991), p. 7.
[19] Mikel D. Petty and Salvador E. Barbosa, ‘Improving Air Combat Maneuvering Skills Through Self-Study and Simulation-Based Practice,’ Simulation & Gaming 47, no. 1 (2016), p. 105.
[20] Petty and Barbosa, ‘Improving Air Combat Maneuvering Skills,’ p. 111.
[21] Petty and Barbosa, ‘Improving Air Combat Maneuvering Skills,’ p. 123.
[23]U.S. Air Force Oral History Interview, p. 240.
[24] In addition to The Blond Knight of Germany, Boyd may have read Edward H. Sims’ Fighter Tactics and Strategy 1940-1970 (1972), which also explained the SDAB cycle before the OODA loop emerged. Sims, Fighter Tactics and Strategy, 204-5
[25] Franklin C. Spinney, ‘Genghis John,’ Proceedings 123 (1997).
[26] Boyd advised in ‘Organic Design for Command and Control’ to operate inside enemy OODA loops ‘to enmesh adversary in a world of uncertainty, doubt, mistrust, confusion, disorder, fear, panic chaos.” Boyd also added in ‘The Strategic Game of ? and ?’: “Operating inside their OODA loops will accomplish just this by disorienting or twisting their mental images so that they can neither appreciate nor cope with what’s really going on.’ John R. Boyd, ‘Organic Design for Command and Control’ and ‘The Strategic Game of ? and ?,’ in Grant T. Hammond (ed), A Discourse on Winning and Losing (Maxwell AFB: Air University Press, 2018), p. 224 and 302.
[27] Boyd, towards the end of his life, refined the OODA loop into a vastly more complex idea involving multiple feedback loops and different relationships and pathways between the four stages. However, the idea of getting inside the enemy’s OODA loop and gaining a relative speed advance is evident in the earlier basic OODA loop and the final complex OODA loop. This key idea remained constant during the OODA loop’s evolution. Therefore, when referring to the OODA loop in this article, all versions of the OODA loop are referred to unless otherwise specified.
[28]U.S. Air Force Oral History Interview, p. 134.
[29] Frans P.B. Osinga, Science, Strategy and War: The Strategic Theory of John Boyd (New York: Routledge, 2006), p. 28.
[30] John R. Boyd, Aerial Attack Study, 50-10-6C, 1964.
[38] John R. Boyd, ‘Patterns of Conflict (Transcript),’ in Discourse on Winning and Losing, Marine Corps University, Quantico, 25 April, 2 May, 3 May 1989, p. 10.
[39] Boyd, ‘Patterns of Conflict (Transcript),’ p. 10.
[40] Boyd, ‘Patterns of Conflict (Transcript),’ p. 10.
[41] Jim Storr, The Human Face of War (London: Bloomsbury Publishing 2009), p. 13.
[44] For a comprehensive analysis of Boyd’s relationship with the ‘Knights of the Air’ myth, see Michael W. Hankins, Flying Camelot: The F-15, the F-16, and the Weaponization of Fighter Pilot Nostalgia (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2021).
[45] Heaton, ‘Final Thoughts of the Blond Knight,’ p. 33.
[46] Frans P. B. Osinga, ‘The Enemy as a Complex Adaptive System: John Boyd and Airpower in the Postmodern Era,’ in John Andreas Olsen (ed.), Airpower Reborn: The Strategic Concepts of John Warden and John Boyd (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 2015), p. 74.
[47] Heaton, ‘Final Thoughts of the Blond Knight,’ p. 85.
[48] Boyd explained in Patterns of Conflict: ‘It doesn’t make any difference whether you’re a Russian, you’re an Englishman, an American, Chinese or what. You have to observe what the hell’s going on here. Then you have to, as a result of that, looking at the world, you generate images, views, and impressions in your mind. That’s what you call orientation. Then as a result of those images, views, and impressions, you’re going have to make a selection, what you’re going to do or what you’re going to do, that’s a decision. And then you’re going to have to implement or take the action.’ Boyd, ‘Patterns of Conflict (Transcript),’ p. 11.
[49] John R. Boyd, Destruction and Creation (Paper), 3 September 1976, pp. 2-3.
[50] Boyd, ‘The Strategic Game of ? And ?,’ pp. 261-5.
Editorial note: This piece was originally drafted not long after the passing of Air Vice-Marshal Mason. However, several personal reasons led to a delay in its publication.
On 12 November 2023, Air Vice-Marshal Professor R.A. Mason, one of the doyens of air power studies, sadly passed away. Known as Tony by most who knew him personally and professionally, Mason can be considered one of the fathers of air power studies in the UK. As I have argued elsewhere, Mason was arguably the critical British air power thinker of the late 20th Century. From being the Royal Air Force’s (RAF) first Director of Defence Studies (DDefS) to his writing and commentary work, Mason was consistently at the forefront of the field until the 2010s. Indeed, his consistent commitment to the field and the length of his career made him stand out. He was also generous with his time and knowledge and always happy to share material with those who shared his interests.
Mason joined the RAF in 1956 and entered the Education Branch. He gradually rose through the ranks in his branch and undertook various assignments, including attending King’s College London, the United States Air War College and the RAF Staff College. Eventually, in 1976, Mason was informed that he would be the RAF’s first DDefS. Mason took up the role at the start of 1977. The position of DDefS was established due to the perceived state of thinking on air power within the RAF and public awareness of the Service’s role. In a letter to Air Officer Commanding-in-Chief Support Command, Air Marshal Sir Reginald Harland, Chief of the Air Staff, Air Chief Marshal Sir Neil Cameron noted that the position was being established ‘to help provide a new stimulus to air power thinking’ throughout the RAF.[1] This point was also emphasised in the terms of reference for the DDefS post, as there was a need to ‘write on air power and defence issues,’ which was to be encouraged.[2]
The establishment of the post of DDefS at the RAF Staff College at Bracknell and Mason’s perceived suitability for the role caused some debate. While this is not the place to consider that debate, the view of Mason’s successor, Group Captain Timothy Garden, is worth noting. Garden, a pilot and later Air Marshal Baron Garden, noted in 1982 in Air Clues that a colleague had questioned why he would want to take over what was perceived by 1982 as an ‘admin branch’ role. Garden reflected that the most appropriately qualified person should essentially hold the post to achieve its aims and that it ‘should not be the prerogative of any branch.’[3] That Garden, as a pilot, viewed the post in such a way was as much down to Mason’s hard work in the role as it was to the importance of the RAF’s intellectual development.
Mason nonetheless quickly sought to encourage discussion and debate and discussion about the role of air power within the service on taking up the role of DDefS. Despite the demise of the RAF Quarterly in 1977, Mason regularly contributed to Air Clues, which, up to the 1970s, had primarily been a technical publication for the RAF. In 1980, he established the Air Power Supplement to Air Clues, the spiritual ancestor to the RAF’s current professional flagship journal, Air and Space Power Review.[4] He also regularly contributed to other publications, such as The RUSI Journal. Perhaps his critical success in this period was organising an academic symposium in his first year in post. This symposium was entitled ‘Air Power in the Next Generation.’ It was well attended and laid the basis for similar endeavours by his successors. It was also published as Air Power in the Next Generation, co-edited with Edgar Feuchtwanger and published by The Macmillan Press in 1979. The book included contributions from the senior USAF, Luftwaffe, and Israeli officers, as well as civilian academics such as John Erickson. Much of Mason’s work started a process whereby his successors have continued to contribute to the collegiate intellectual development of the RAF through various schemes such as publications, conferences, and the management of defence fellowships.[5] Many former post-holders, such as Air Commodore (ret’d) Professor Peter Gray, are also notable for their contribution to developing British air power thinking through their engagement with academia after leaving the post of DDefS and the RAF.
Mason’s contributions to air power studies continued after moving on from the DDefS role. In 1983, Mason published Air Power in the Nuclear Age in conjunction with Air Marshal Michael Armitage. This publication helped cement Mason’s position as a leading air power thinker. As Marshal of the Royal Air Force Lord Cameron noted in the foreword to the book, ‘[t]he joint authors of this book are advanced and enlightened thinkers about the doctrine of air power as a vital and perhaps the most important element of modern and future warfare.’[6] This view was not hyperbole. For example, in his 1984 overview of air power literature, historian Richard Hallion described the book as an ‘excellent survey’ of the development of air power during the Cold War.[7] The book was updated as a second edition in 1985. Mason’s other notable works in this period were the edited book War in the Third Dimension and the establishment of the Brassey’s Air Power: Aircraft, Weapons Systems and Technology Series. This latter series was interesting because it was explicitly directed at developing an awareness of air power amongst junior military personnel.
After retiring from the RAF in 1989, Mason moved into academia. He became the Leverhulme Air Power Research Director for the Foundation for International Security and took up a post as a Senior Research Fellow at the Centre for Studies in Security and Diplomacy at the University of Birmingham, where he was director. In 1996, he was made an Honorary Professor of Aerospace Policy at the University of Birmingham.
In 1994, Mason published what might be considered his magnum opus, Air Power: A Centennial Appraisal. This book confirmed Mason’s place as one of Britain’s leading air power thinkers. In this book, Mason examined the development of air power between 1989 and 1994. In doing so, he took a historical approach to examine how air power developed in the years up to this period. Mason then conceptualised the period 1989 to 1994, focusing on several key themes, such as the place of air power in arms control. Notably, he sought to contextualise much of the then-contemporary debate about the role of air power in the First Gulf War. Perhaps the most significant aspect of the book lay in Mason’s conceptualisation of what he called ‘differential air power.’[8] In short, Mason argued that while many nations shared ideas around the implementation of air power, only one in 1994 might be able to fully apply the advantages afforded by air power – the US. Using the idea of differential air power, Mason explored why the US stood out as a unique user of air power capabilities. These were important views for the time; however, while the book remains a significant contribution to air power studies, given factors such as the rise of China in the 21st Century and the distributed use of off-the-shelf technology such as drones, it remains to be seen whether his view remains applicable. Nevertheless, Mason concluded that:
One enduring concept underlay all air power thinking and all operations from the first day of the century to the last, and will continue to do so. Any nation intent on going to war to pursue an interest or defend a principle must first secure the air above it.[9]
Mason’s book was well received at publication and has become a commonly cited work. In his 1995 review in The RUSI Journal, Garden described the book as ‘excellent [and] thought-provoking.’[10] Thomas Keaney, who had worked on the Gulf War Air Power Survey, noted that the book made an ‘important contribution to any discussion on the future of airpower in the United States or elsewhere’ in a 1996 review for the US Joint Forces Quarterly.[11] However, historian Philip Sabin, reviewing the book in the Journal of Strategic Studies in 1995, offered a more tempered view. While recognising that the book had certain strengths, particularly Mason’s ‘balanced insights into many of the controversial issues regarding air power,’ Sabin also highlighted the challenge of reading a book that was ‘dense and difficult to follow without careful reading.’[12]
After the publication of Air Power, Mason continued to contribute to both the public’s and the RAF’s understanding of air power through his continued contribution to publications.[13] He also served as an expert member of the House of Commons Defence Committee in the early 2000s and helped inform British defence policy. He was also an inveterate media commentator and was often called to provide expert opinion. Mason’s contribution to air power studies was wide-ranging. While he had retired several years before his passing, his expertise will undoubtedly be sorely missed by many air power scholars for decades to come.
Dr Ross Mahoney is an independent scholar specialising in the history of war with particular reference to the use of air power and the history of air warfare. He is currently the Senior Historian within the Heritage Policy team at Brisbane City Council in Australia. He has nearly 20 years of experience in the education, museum and heritage sectors in Australia and the United Kingdom. Between 2013 and 2017, he was the inaugural Historian at the Royal Air Force Museum in the UK. In Australia, he has worked as a Historian for the Department of Veterans’ Affairs and taught at the Strategic and Defence Studies Centre at The Australian National University based at the Australian War College. His research interests are focused on the history of war, specifically on the history of air power and air warfare, military leadership and command, military culture, and the history and development of professional military education. He also maintains an interest in transport history. He has published numerous articles, chapters and encyclopedia entries, edited two books, and delivered papers on three continents. His website is here, and he can be found on Twitter at @airpowerhistory.
Header image: Ramslade House, the home of the RAF Staff College in Bracknell when Mason took up the role of Director of Defence Studies. (Source: Wikimedia)
[1] Author’s Personal Collection, Letter from the Chief of the Air Staff to AOC-in-C Support Command, 2 November 1976. I am grateful to the late Air Vice-Marshal Professor R.A. Mason for a copy of this and other documents linked to the establishment of the DDefS post.
[2] Author’s Personal Collection, Terms of Reference for Director of Defence Studies appended to a Letter from the Chief of the Air Staff to AOC-in-C Support Command, 2 November 1976, p. 1.
[3] Group Captain Timothy Garden, ‘Why don’t we forget Defence Studies and get on with the job?’ Air Clues 36, no 10 (1982), p. 364.
[4] Air Vice-Marshal Tony Mason, ‘Air Power Review’s Place in RAF History,’ Air Power Review 21, no. 1 (2018), p. 10.
[5] For a variety of publications produced under the guidance of DDefS, see: Andrew Lambert and Arthur C. Williamson (eds.), The Dynamics of Air Power (London: HMSO, 1996); Stuart Peach (ed.), Perspectives on Air Power: Air Power in its Wider Context (London: The Stationary Office: 1998); Peter W. Gray (ed.), Air Power 21: Challenges for the New Century (London: The Stationary Office, 2000); Peter W. Gray and Sebastian Cox (eds.), Air Power Leadership: Theory and Practice (London: The Stationary Office, 2002).
[6] Marshal of the Royal Air Force Lord Cameron, ‘Foreword’ in M’J’ Armitage and R.A. Mason, Air Power in the Nuclear Age: Theory and Practice, Second Edition (Basingstoke: The Macmillan Press, 1985), p. vii.
[7] Richard Hallion, The Literature of Aeronautics, Astronautics, and Air Power (Washington DC: Office of Air Force History, 1984), p. 36.
[8] Tony Mason, Air Power: A Centennial Appraisal (London: Brassey’s, 1994), pp. 235-278.
[10] Timothy Garden, ‘Book Reviews – Air Power: A Centennial Appraisal,’ The RUSI Journal 140, no. 3 (1995), p. 60.
[11] Thomas Keaney, ‘A Jubilee for Airmen: A Book Review,’ Joint Forces Quarterly 11 (1996), p. 134
[12] Philip Sabin, ‘Book Review – Air Power: A Centennial Appraisal,’ Journal of Strategic Studies 18, no. 4 (1995), pp. 141-2.
[13] For example, see: Tony Mason, ‘British Air Power’ in John Andreas Olsen (ed.), Global Air Power (Dulles, VA: Potomac Books, 2011), 7-62; R.A. Mason, ‘The Response to Uncertainty’ in John Andreas Olsen (ed.), European Air Power: Challenges and Opportunities (Dulles, VA: Potomac Books, 2014), pp. 215-30; Mason, ‘Air Power Review’s Place in RAF History,’ pp. 10-1.
Editorial Note: Led by Editor Dr Mike Hankins, From Balloons to Drones, produces a monthly podcast that provides an outlet for the presentation and evaluation of air power scholarship, the exploration of historical topics and ideas, and provides a way to reach out to both new scholars and the general public. You can find our Soundcloud channel here. You can also find our podcast on Apple Podcasts and Google Podcasts.
For every military aircraft that takes to the skies, many others never get off the drawing board or make it into full production. Renowned and prolific aviation historian Kenneth P. Werrell talks to us in his new book, Air Force Disappointments, Mistakes, and Failures, 1940-1990, about some of these projects and why some aeroplanes never seem to take off.
Dr Kenneth P. Werrell is the author of Death from the Heavens: A History of StrategicBombing, Sabres over MIG Alley: The F-86 and the Battle for Air Superiority over Korea, Chasing the Silver Bullet: US Air Force Weapons Development from Vietnam to Desert Storm, Blankets of Fire: U.S. Bombers Over Japan During World War II, and other books.
Header image:A North American XB-70A Valkyrie rolling out after landing, employing drag chutes to slow down. In the photo, the outer wing panels are slightly raised. The panels were lowered to improve stability when the XB-70 was flying at high speed. (Source: Wikimedia)
Paul F. Crickmore, Lockheed Blackbird: Beyond the Secret Missions – The Missing Chapters. Oxford, UK: Osprey Publishing, 2023. Appendices. Bibliography. Hbk, 528 pp.
Author Paul Crickmore is the unofficial Dean of the school of SR-71 studies. Much of what is public knowledge is due to his diligent efforts and publication record. Crickmore has spent decades uncovering every piece of paper concerning the program, from its reception to its retirement. He has left no stone unturned and no recently declassified document unexamined. No discussion of the A-12, SR-71, or any other variants is complete without mentioning his name. Every academic or researcher interested in air power studies, particularly those interested in low observability or the history of intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance, has one of his books near. His previous titles include Lockheed Blackbird: Beyond the Secret Missions (Revised Edition 2016), Lockheed SR-71: The Secret Missions Exposed (Osprey Modern Military) 1993, Lockheed SR-71: The Secret Missions Exposed 1997, and Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird 1986. Crickmore has recently published what might be rightly said to be the final word on the history of this iconic airframe in Lockheed Blackbird: Beyond the Secret Missions, The Missing Chapters.
This is not just the history of the SR-71 but begins with a rather detailed examination of aerial ISR platforms in the post-World War II and Cold War era, including the U-2. Crickmore should be commended early on for his thorough analysis and excellent work on stealth vs performance characteristics (p. 44). An early highlight is the section detailing Convair’s ‘First Invisible Super Hustler (FISH),’ a modified B-58 with a parasitic jet-powered aircraft attached to the hull that would drop and rocket off on its mission. I chuckled at the idea of a B-58 crewmember being forced to trade in their coveted ‘I fly to the Hustler’ for an ‘I fly the FISH.’ While Convair worked on their flying FISH, members of Lockheed went through significant changes in designs for their ‘Archangel’ concept. ‘Archangel’ was the name Lockheed engineer Clarence ‘Kelly’ Johnson used for his internal design efforts for a future Surveillance and reconnaissance aircraft. The final concept drawing was the twelfth of a series of the ‘Archangel,’ thus the A-12 (44-45).
An air-to-air overhead view of an SR-71A strategic reconnaissance aircraft, c. 1988. (Source: US National Archives and Records Administration (NAID 6438039))
Crickmore’s book really ‘takes off’ in his chapter on SR-71 operations over North Vietnam as part of Operation BLACK SHIELD and its photo reconnaissance missions detecting North Vietnamese surface-to-air missile (SAM) sites and other targets of interest, including photographs of the Hoa Loa (Hanoi Hilton) prison complex. This chapter also gives an excellent description of North Vietnam’s missile operators’ attempts to track and engage the A-12. From there, Crickmore covers every possible A-12 and SR-71 operation and deployment. Historians of the Cold War will especially enjoy Crickmore’s details about the USSR’s attempts to intercept the SR-71.
There are some drawbacks to what is otherwise a very fine work. The book is weighty, both for its in-depth research and size. At more than 500 pages of high-gloss paper, the book is literally heavy. Its measurements are 9.9 x 12.55 inches, and its weight is nearly seven pounds. This has become a trend for some presses, which one might call the ‘high-end coffee table book.’ This is not a book to be carried around in your spare time and read; it remained firmly ensconced on my desk for the duration of its review. In reality, this is something of a hybrid between an in-depth history, a photographic coffee table book, and a reference book. One of my students who noticed the copy sitting on my desk stated, “It looks good on a bookshelf, but no one actually reads those cover to cover.” No one except book reviewers, of course. Another problem is that there are also no footnotes, another trend in some recent publications, perhaps to attract a larger audience and not be perceived as a stuffy academic tome. However, there is a real and dangerous drawback to not noting where particular quotes or data were extracted. The appendices – one of Crickmore’s greatest contributions is his appendices – are slightly different from the previous version published in 2016, although the missing information is available online.
Crickmore’s book, this new and expanded edition of Lockheed Blackbird, is indeed the final word and ultimate reference guide for the history of the entire SR-71 program. As Crickmore notes, few aircraft transcend to being ‘iconic,’ and undoubtedly, the SR-71 surpassed that label many years ago. Crickmore’s book is a must-have for every aviation enthusiast and a must-read for every aviation and Cold War scholar who seeks to understand this legendary aircraft’s history, operations, and legacy.
Dr Brian Laslie is a US Air Force Historian and Command Historian at the United States Air Force Academy. Formerly he was the Deputy Command Historian at North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD) and United States Northern Command (USNORTHCOM). A 2001 graduate of The Citadel and a historian of air power studies, he received his Masters’ from Auburn University Montgomery in 2006 and his PhD from Kansas State University in 2013. He is the author of Air Power’s Lost Cause: The American Air Wars of Vietnam (2021), Architect of Air Power: General Laurence S. Kuter and the Birth of the US Air Force (2017) and The Air Force Way of War (2015). The latter book was selected for the Chief of Staff of the Air Force’s 2016 professional reading list and the 2017 RAF Chief of the Air Staff’s reading list. He can be found on Twitter at @BrianLaslie.
Header image: A right front view of an SR-71B Blackbird strategic reconnaissance training aircraft, silhouetted on the runway at sundown at Beale AFB, 1 June 1988. Image by Technical Sergeant Michael Haggerty. (Source: US National Archives and Records Administration (NAID 6438040))
Editorial Note: Led by Editor Dr Mike Hankins, From Balloons to Drones, produces a monthly podcast that provides an outlet for the presentation and evaluation of air power scholarship, the exploration of historical topics and ideas, and provides a way to reach out to both new scholars and the general public. You can find our Soundcloud channel here. You can also find our podcast on Apple Podcasts and Google Podcasts.
From Balloons to Drones is excited to be joined by veteran astronaut Tom Jones to talk about the history of the US Space Shuttle Program. Having flown in space on four shuttle missions, Jones shares not only his own perspective but also reflects on the entirety of the shuttle program based on the interviews and research that informed his new book, Space Shuttle Stories: Firsthand Astronaut Accounts from All 135 Missions (2023), from Smithsonian Books.
Tom Jones is a veteran astronaut, planetary scientist, pilot, author, and speaker who completed four space shuttle missions and three spacewalks in helping build the International Space Station. Jones has authored six books, including Sky Walking: An Astronaut’s Memoir, and has written for aerospace magazines such as Air & Space Smithsonian, Aerospace America, Popular Mechanics, and The Planetary Report. A senior research scientist for IHMC, he appears regularly on television news as an expert commentator for space exploration and science stories.
Header image: Space Shuttle Atlantis takes flight on its STS-27 mission on 2 December 1988, utilising 375,000 pounds of thrust produced by its three main engines. The engines start in 3.9 seconds of ignition and go to static pump speeds of approximately 35,000 revolutions per minute during that time. (Source NASA)
Editorial Note: Led by Editor Dr Mike Hankins, From Balloons to Drones, produces a monthly podcast that provides an outlet for the presentation and evaluation of air power scholarship, the exploration of historical topics and ideas, and provides a way to reach out to both new scholars and the general public. You can find our Soundcloud channel here. You can also find our podcast on Apple Podcasts and Google Podcasts.
2023 marks the 30th anniversary of the announcement of the first female American combat fighter pilots. How did the US go from women not being allowed in military aeroplanes to having women combat pilots? Eileen Bjorkman (Colonel, USAF, ret’d) joins us to discuss these momentous changes. She is a former flight test engineer who has flown in aircraft like the F-4 Phantom and the F-16 Fighting Falcon, and she is the author of Fly Girls Revolt: The Story of the Women who Kicked Open the Door to Fly in Combat (2023), from Knox Press.
Eileen Bjorkman is a retired US Air Force Colonel. She was a flight test engineer during her USAF career, flying more than 700 hours in twenty-five different types of military aircraft, including fighters such as the F-4 and F-16. She is also a civilian pilot and author of The Propeller Under the Bed (2017) and Unforgotten in the Gulf of Tonkin (2020).
Header image: Female fighter pilots assigned to the 36th and 25th Fighter Squadrons join together before flying a historic all-female flight at Osan Air Base, South Korea, on 25 October 2021. The flight is the first time 10 female Airmen have planned, led and flown in a formation together while assigned to Osan AB. Eight pilots are A-10 Thunderbolt II pilots, and two are F-16 Fighting Falcon pilots. (Source: US Air Force)
Editorial Note: Led by Editor Dr Mike Hankins, From Balloons to Drones, produces a monthly podcast that provides an outlet for the presentation and evaluation of air power scholarship, the exploration of historical topics and ideas, and provides a way to reach out to both new scholars and the general public. You can find our Soundcloud channel here. You can also find our podcast on Apple Podcasts and Google Podcasts.
The American spaceflight program is a popular, inspirational story that many of us are familiar with, but what about the Soviet Union’s space program? To explore it, we’re joined by Dr Cathleen Lewis, Curator of International Space Programs and Spacesuits at the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum and author of Cosmonaut: A Cultural History (2023) from the University of Florida Press. She tells us not only about how the Soviet space program worked but its cultural effect on the people of the Soviet Union and how it has been remembered since then.
We apologize for an audio problem with one of our microphones that we were unaware of until editing, when it was too late to fix.
Dr Cathleen S. Lewis is the Curator of International Space Programs and Spacesuits at the Smithsonian Institution’s National Air and Space Museum, specializing in Soviet and Russian history. She co-edited Spaceflight: A Smithsonian Guide and Air and Space History: An Annotated Bibliography.
Header image: Visitors at the 38th Paris International Air and Space Shown at Le Bourget Airfield line up to tour a Soviet An-225 Mriya aircraft with the Space Shuttle Buran on its back. (Source: Wikimedia)