Document created: 08 July 04
Air University Review,
March-April 1970
Lieutenant Colonel Don Clelland
Toasting
the pilots imprisoned in the Hanoi Hilton and other comparable hostelries,
Colonel Jack Broughton dedicated Thud Ridge “To Our Comrades Up
North.” Implicitly, though, the book* is also dedicated to those who
want a clear view of air warfare over North Vietnam as seen through the eyes of
a participant. Spotlighting the pilots who flew in “the big leagues” of this
war, Thud Ridge will doubtless turn out to be the definitive book on the
F-105 in combat.
It
is replete with vicarious adventure for the armchair warrior and chock full of
stories that illuminate the complex interactions of fighters, tankers, control
sites, and rescue aircraft. It is also a very bitter book. Perhaps for that
reason the closing pages should be read first: some premises may appear there.
Colonel
Broughton is not in the Air Force today. He was given a general court-martial
for attempting to cover up a strafing incident at Haiphong. The incident itself
involved two pilots from a squadron in the wing where the author of Thud
Ridge was vice commander. It also concerned a Russian ship, destroyed
gun-camera film, and an attempt by Colonel Broughton to evade instructions from
higher headquarters. Finally, as Colonel Broughton fought for the careers of the
two accused pilots, the incident involved some troubling interpretations of that
military sine qua non, loyalty.
The author says he wrote his book out of a “desire to give permanence
to some of the briefing
room jazz that flows so wonderfully from pilot to pilot,” jazz that
fades too quickly into murky recall once the guns have been silenced. Judged on
this basis alone, he has been successful. Like a college annual, Thud
Ridge is a book full of verbal pictures. If the world never again sees duels
between fighters and surface-to-air missiles (SAM’S), the jousting done by the
“fives” as they searched for their targets will suffice.
Stylistically,
Thud Ridge profits from Colonel Broughton’s use of verbatim dialogue
recorded on tape during actual missions over Hanoi and environs. Complementing
these staccato accounts are telling editorial insertions by the author. The
combination is an approach which keeps the book’s vignettes consistent,
related, and easily understood. The style seems unusually well suited to
bringing about what can be one of the greater contributions of Thud Ridge:
increasing public understanding of today’s air battles.
Had
it been limited to this type of coverage, the book would have been sounder than
it is. The author writes with color (he refers to operational types, in mock
self-deprecation, as “the swine in the field”), great authority (vice
commander of an F-105 wing), and a substantial military background (including
service in the Thunderbirds and duty as a student at the select National War
College).
Unfortunately,
however, Colonel Broughton’s capabilities and his rich background often fall
victim to an almost exclusive identification with the problems, perils, and
frustrations of his part of the war. In particular, he hung up on what he
considered to be a consistent lack of good sense on the part of the high-level
military leadership. Such criticism runs throughout his book, culminates in his
attempted obfuscation of the aforementioned strafing incident, and gives rise to
the entire question of loyalty.
General George Patton once said, “There is a great deal of talk about loyalty from the bottom to the top. Loyalty from the top down is even more necessary and much less prevalent.” Without dismissing the possible truth of this, one is nevertheless compelled to admit that loyalty from the bottom to the top is more easily recognized and measured than it is from the top down, This is particularly so when the “top” is represented by the highest councils of war, councils that embrace the great variety of elements that combine to make up a nation’s policies.
In
its simplest instance, bottom-to-top loyalty in the service is a measurement of
obedience to orders. On the other hand, to ascertain whether loyalty in fact
flows from the top down, one would have to be aware of all factors which
influenced the highest elements of military leadership—and then judge where
the generals placed the desiderata of their forces in the bigger picture
drawn by the civilian leadership.
Probably no combat pilot has ever been completely free of the feeling
that higher headquarters is painfully out of touch with the real war. Both that
reaction and excesses of it are widespread. Visit any unit in Vietnam or
Thailand and the most casual question along these lines will elicit an
outpouring of criticism. And certainly some of it is justified. Yet, after the
initial torrents have subsided, reason generally begins to counterattack
emotion. It then is often acknowledged that higher headquarters, too, has to
operate under irritating constraints. In some cases it is actually conceded that
even in the puzzle-palace-on-the-Potomac no carte blanche exists for the conduct
of a war. This type of give-and-take, if it does nothing else, usually improves
attitudes. At the least, following an exchange of opinions, the lines of loyalty
stand more clearly exposed than they did earlier.
It
is in this area—loyalty—that Colonel Broughton is most vulnerable to
criticism. He has no sympathy or understanding for the problems of those higher
in the chain of command. His generosity and faith are reserved almost
exclusively for F-105 pilots. Though doubtless personally acquainted with and
friendly toward many of the officers serving in various SEA and CONUS
headquarters, he persists in discussing them as though they were a breed apart
who did not share an intense awareness of SAM’S, MIG’S, or the searing
loneliness and boredom of prison camps.
What
Thud Ridge has to say about the emphasis on bombers (and bomber generals)
following World War II, at the expense of things tactical, is not new. Nor are
its diatribes concerning the inviolability of Haiphong Harbor or the Chinese
border. Though he makes his questions intensely personal, Colonel Broughton adds
nothing to the general inquiry as to why SAM sites were seemingly proscribed as
targets until they were completed, and only then were they placed on the attack
list. Objections as strong as any he makes have long echoed through the halls of
the Pentagon. Perhaps through proximity to the actual offices of control,
however, the generals in the building realized early that, while the
military was pulling the triggers over North Vietnam, it was not calling the
shots.
The
centralization which until recently characterized the Pentagon led to an
unfortunate overlap between command and control. Overreacting to the looseness
of the Department of Defense in the late fifties, Secretary McNamara reshaped it
to the point where the services simply were not allowed to command their forces
in response to civilian control of policy. Ironically, therefore, when military
leaders at the very highest levels were losing their fight for the same tactical
freedoms asked by field commanders, they were being criticized by some of those
in SEA for
failure to provide the proper support.
Detachment
is not
Colonel Broughton’s forte. We can be grateful for that. Involvement often
stamps a book with rare passion and conviction, and Thud Ridge is rich in
these qualities. Unfortunately, though, the author’s intensity has sometimes
blurred his sense of objectivity. With this in mind one cannot help recalling
the approach used by Thucydides: “Of the events of the war, I have not
ventured to speak from any chance information, nor according to any notion of my
own; I have described nothing but what I saw myself, or learned from others of
whom I made the most careful and particular inquiry.”
Falls Church, Virginia