Home
Benefits
News
entertainment
shop
finance
careers
education
join military
community
  
 






History Home






Specials






Archives






Veterans' Stories









American Revolution

War of 1812

Indian Wars

Civil War

Spanish-American War


  Tell us your story
World War I

World War II

Korean War

Cold War

Vietnam War

Panama

Gulf War

Kosovo

Search and Rescue



 advertisement




Cold War
Ernest Cook
Ron Hamric
Jake Jegelewicz
John Lesjack
Richard Potter
Something Out of the Ordinary

 President Kennedy then told the world what was taking place. 

Contributed by Ron Hamric, VMA-121, The Green Knights







Photo: A-4 Skyhawk. Air Force photo


I was stationed with the 2d Armored Cavalry Regiment in Amberg, in what was then West Germany, 45 miles from the Czech Border.

I will always remember October 1962. I was assigned to VMA-121, an A-4 Squadron at El Toro MCAS. We were in the process of deploying to "ordinance training" at MCAS Yuma, Arizona, which was a quarterly task for us so that our pilots could maintain their proficiency in weapons delivery from the "bantam jet." We had been given "liberty" on Friday and Saturday and were to report to the squadron area on Sunday to launch our aircraft and then board C-130's for the trip to Yuma. As we arrived at El Toro on that Sunday morning, it was obvious that there was something out of the ordinary going on.

There was higher than usual security at the main gate plus there were what seemed to be endless lines of Army transport trucks entering the base, along with Air Force transport aircraft landing and taking off from our Marine Corps air base. Not your normal Sunday morning at El Toro.

Upon arriving at the squadron area, I could see that the base was a beehive of activity. There were Air Force transport aircraft landing and taking off every few minutes. They were parked all over the base; taxiways and flightlines were crowded. They were taking on material and troops that were arriving in the trucks we had seen entering the main gate. Naturally we assumed that this was not our usual deployment to Yuma, but trying to get any scuttlebutt as to what was up was hopeless. Those that did know were not talking and those that thought they knew were obviously only guessing.

We were directed to continue with our normal deployment procedures and did such. We launched our birds and boarded the C-130's and departed to Yuma. All was pretty normal , except for all that we had seen at El Toro.

We were getting set-up for operations at Yuma when the word came to hold off on the un-packing. Everyone was told to place themselves in the vicinity of a TV set as the President was going to be making an announcement to the nation. President Kennedy then told the world what was taking place. Our intelligence had detected ballistic missiles in Cuba. The rest of the speech is now pretty much known to history... the blockade he was ordering, our position that any missile fired at the U.S. from Cuba would be seen as an attack from the Soviet Union, and deployment of US Armed Forces in a readiness state for war. Hot damn, they're going to schedule the game and we would get to be players. Morale shot to the roof. Few thought of the true consequences of what was shaping up.

Now what? Certainly they are not going to leave us here in Yuma, practicing when we could be doing the "live" stuff. Word came down to re-pack that which had been unpacked and be prepared for a return to El Toro. Yahoo! Here we go.

We returned to an El Toro base that was even more hectic than when we had departed the day before. We were told to go to the barracks, prepare field marching packs, draw our rifles from the armory, and put everything else in our footlockers and seabags for storage. Surely, this was it, but Marine Air in field marching packs and rifles? Heck, we had 32 multi-million dollar attack aircraft and the guys that knew how to use them at our disposal, what the heck was all this "grunt" stuff about? Oh yeah! I remember, "every Marine is basically a rifleman". Naw! They wouldn't........would they?

So with uncertainty the order of the day, we all assembled at our squadron area looking more like a group of grunts from Pendleton than Marine Air. We were told to get our aircraft launched and on their way (destination unknown). Then we lined up behind this C-130 and as we boarded we were handed a box lunch. All aboard, sandwiched in like sardines. Steel pots on our noggins, rifles butt down between our legs, packs stacked on the loading ramp secured by a big net, box lunch in our laps. We are ready! For what?

Airborne, now that we are in the air, surely they will divulge our destination and role. Not a chance! Mum is still the word. Seven and a half hours we were in that state inside the "Herc." Guys had to walk across the upper legs of seated guys to get to the toilet in the back of the plane. It was a little flip down toilet seat attached to the "personnel" door on the starboard side of the plane. Not much, but worked . Starts to smell a bit though.

Hey, landing gear is coming down! Plane is beginning to enter a landing pattern. Finally, we are going to be able to know where we are. Thump, thump. The gear of the C-130 touches down on a runway somewhere that is cloudy, raining, and obviously in the afternoon at that locale. And the topography is so flat it seems you could see a hundred miles, except for the rain. We taxi off the runway and out the small porthole windows that the "Herc" is equipped with, someone sees the control tower and it has a huge sign on it saying "Welcome to NAS Cecil Field, Florida". Florida! Hell, that's California only with rain instead of sunshine!

Well, we offload expecting to draw ammo for our rifles and be assigned into rifles squads. Let's go get 'em! They must have invaded Florida while we were in the air from the West coast and as Marines, it was going to be our task to "throw 'em back into the ocean." Morale is still way up there, but some questions are beginning to take hold. Cecil Field? Anyone know just how far it is to the ocean from here? Just where is "here" anyway. Someone says they think we are close to Jacksonville, Florida. Great! Now where is Jacksonville and how far is it from the ocean we will have to push the "enemy" back into. Would like to have some idea of the task before us.

Needless to say, we were directed to get out of our "grunt" gear and get setup to retrieve our incoming aircraft. Where they been? Those A4's can fly circles around a C-130 and should have been here way ahead of us support personnel. Never did find the answer to that one. We figured the pilots must have stopped off in New Orleans for a cool one before getting down to business.

VMA-121 went on "hot-pad " duty for the remainder of our stay in sunny (NOT!) Florida. That duty consisted of having our planes fully loaded with live ordinance that covered the spectrum from napalm to HE 250 pounders on multiple bomb racks (MBR's). Pilots were assigned to be in a "state of readiness" suited up in their G-suits and biding their time in the ready room awaiting whatever was to come. Maintaining that level of readiness 24/7 is taxing on the nerves for all involved. We were getting most of our info on the "situation" from the TV as were all Americans.

We sent several of our aircraft to participate in a fly-over for President Kennedy in Miami, to show the "enemy" what they would be facing should someone push the issue. We lost one of those aircraft and the pilot on their return from Miami to Cecil Field. We were not able to recover enough of the pilot, who was on loan from another A4 squadron, to constitute a "body". A sad, tragic turn of events that brought home just what this was all about. People are going to die! And if they really get serious and go "nuclear", lots of people are gonna' die! Maybe this is not a game we want to be all "up" for. Dedicated to out task, yes. But let's not be trivial about what could be unleashed on the world any second. We hunkered down for the duration of that "event."

As history has recorded, some deals were cut between Kennedy and Kruschev over their missiles in Cuba and ours in Turkey, and everything de-escalated back to what was always known to us as the "Cold War Posture."

We returned to El Toro and normal operations, train, train, train, fly, fly fly! Little did any of us know just how close the world came to a nuclear war that October 1962. As it turns out, we were at the brink!

Thankfully, cooler minds prevailed at that time. But Vietnam and all its consequences were just over the horizon, but that is a another story, for those involved to tell. Bless them all and "Welcome Home!!!!!!."