and the nose went down before he started going straight down. That wasn’ t an escape maneuver a MiG-15 could use because it became uncontrollable at. 93 Mach and the F-86 could go supersonic in a dive. My wingman, John“ Red Dog” Hager, and I followed in pursuit. We followed the MiG down but he disappeared into a cloud deck at about 3000 feet or so, leftover from the thunderstorm off Antung. I couldn’ t follow him, so we pulled up, but I found a hole in the cloud a couple of miles away and flew down through it back toward where the MiG had disappeared. I was fully expecting to see the crash site, but I couldn’ t find it. There were numerous hills and it was raining, so we headed home. I claimed a probable kill.
My first confirmed victory occurred in August of 1952. As I mentioned earlier, the largest enemy airfield was at Antung and my wingman and I flew up along the Yalu River to look down on the base. We saw four MiGs in the traffic pattern: one was on final approach, another on base leg, a third on downwind, and a fourth about to turn downwind. I’ m at 35,000 feet and put my eye on the number four man. I caught up to him just before the overrun of the runway and fired. I was going 550 knots and he was going 150 so my aim was a little off, but I got a couple of strikes on him. Still, he landed okay. He might have changed his shorts, but he got down safely. Unfortunately for us, as soon as that happened, the antiaircraft guns at the end of the runway started firing at us and here I was seeing those red golf balls again. Our bomber pilots in World War II probably saw more fire than we did, but it was more than enough for me. I heard my wingman say,“ Red Lead, I’ m hit, and I’ m going in.” I looked over at him and he was still fine, so I responded by saying,“ Break left, let’ s get back to the deck.” So we did and headed south down the main street of Sinuiju. We looked each other over and neither one of us had a scratch, so we pulled back up to the right, over the Yellow Sea and back toward Antung, climbing all the time. There were eight MiG-15 specks in the sky who didn’ t like us playing in their backyard so they were coming after us. A few MiGs didn’ t relish the fight, but a couple did, and I got behind one of them at a pretty low altitude, somewhere around 7,000 feet. He decided he would climb away, but I already had a head of steam and wasn’ t letting him go. I fired and got some strikes; he turned hard left, and I went with him, getting several more strikes. He
turned hard right, and I stayed with him and continued seeing strikes along the body of the aircraft. He finally pulled up straight ahead and the canopy popped off as the airplane exploded. The pilot bailed out right in front of me. He must have pulled the chute in his seat because I can still see those orange and white panels of his chute starting to open as he went over my head. I was able to damage another MiG on my flight home, so that was an exciting day, to get one destroyed and two damaged on one mission. Later, I got three more destroyed, which brought me to four kills, along with another probable victory.
Another engagement proved fateful years later. We were flying at 35,000
THE LAST ACE OF THE KOREAN WAR- CHICK CLEVELAND.
and providing top cover for the other squadrons that were flying low cover for F-84s conducting a strike just south of the Yalu River. I spotted two MiGs at two o’ clock and thought I had myself a dogfight, but they just kept flying, crossing right in front of me. I knew he saw me. He had to have seen me. I swung way out to his right, eased back into the trail position about 2,500 feet back and started to gain ground slowly. As this was happening, my wingman at the time, Don Pascoe, said,“ We’ ve got two MiGs coming down from 50,000 feet and they’ re gaining on us.” When I got within 1800 feet or so of the MiG I was pursuing, I started shooting – and missed. The tracers were going under him, so I raised the gunsight pipper to the top of the tail and fired again. I could see immediate strikes and there was smoke right away. He was losing altitude, and I was gaining and preparing to fire a last burst when Don said the MiGs behind us were in firing range and he called“ Break left.” I didn’ t hesitate, as I didn’ t want to become a casualty like Major George Davis. He was the commander of the 334 th Squadron just before I arrived. He was firing at a MiG and after he was told he had another MiG behind him, he kept firing, but the second MiG got him first. I didn’ t want that to happen, so we broke left and down to the south and came home. I claimed a second probable.
Years later, I told that story to a friend of mine who was an Ace with the 51st Wing. His name was Dolphin D. Overton and he said,“ Why didn’ t you claim that as a victory?” I told him that I didn’ t see the pilot bail out and I didn’ t see him crash, so I claimed a probable. This was some 50 years later and he said,“ I’ m going to prove you got that‘ W’.” I laughed and said,“ Okay, sure.” I forgot all about it, but Dolph didn’ t. He spent several years writing and traveling, trying to get it confirmed and wasn’ t having much luck until he found the Russian flight records at the National Archives II in Maryland. They received records of all Russian combat missions under Glasnost and were able to single out September 21, 1952, which was the date in question. Dolph had the record translated and discovered that the Russians had admitted a loss at the exact time, exact place, and under the same circumstances that I had described in my report of the probable kill. When he expressed frustration, I asked Dolph to send all the records, everything he had, to me. This included two cardboard boxes full of letters, weather reports, time zones, combat maps and intelligence reports. I put together a package and we and General Boots Blesse went in front of the Air Force Board for the Correction of Military Records and after deliberation, they said,“ Yes, that should have been a confirmed kill.” It was pretty hard to believe after all those years, but I was now the 40 th jet Ace of the Korean War, more than fifty-five years after the fact.
AVQ
SUMMER 2016 13