Target Pyongyang

By the end of August the squadron had destroyed 35 tanks, 212 trucks and other vehicles, four locomotives, 14 box cars and 15 ammunition and fuel dumps but enemy pressure was unrelenting. The pace was hectic. Every day possible the Australian pilots were given a general briefing at lwakuni, dispatched in elements of four across the Sea of Japan to Korea where they would be assigned to a ‘mosquito’ airborne controller by the Joint Operations Centre at Taegu (callsign ‘Mellow’)who would direct thestrike. Afterwards, the Mustangs would land at Taegu to be refuelled and re-armed and then they would be off again on another strike. Sometimes each pilot would fly three or more sorties before returning to lwakuni in the evening. The situation was becoming so desperate that some ground attack missions were actually being flown in the circuit area around Taegu itself.

Results were not achieved without cost. The squadron’s first loss had been S/L. . dr Graham Strout, killed in action early in July on the 9th mission. On September 3, the Australians lost another pilot when Bill Harrop was obliged to crash land in enemy territory. He was seen to leave the downed Mustang but when a US helicopter searched the area he could not be found. He remained ‘missing in action’ until his body was discovered sometime later after the North Koreans had been cleared out of the area.

On the very next day Gordon Harvey, Jack Murray and Ross Coburn were returning home to Japan from a rocket strike on Kigye when the latter noticed his temperature gauge rising. Glycol fumes entered the cockpit, clouding up the canopy. As they were crossing the Tsushima Straits, Coburn called up Harvey and told him that he was going to head over the mountains to Bofu. White glycol smoke could be seen escaping from the Mustang’s radiator shutter. Passing over the mountains, Coburn’s machine began to vibrate violently and lose altitude. There was only one thing he could do – get out fast! Quickly he jettisoned the cockpit canopy and bailed out. Fortunately, he landed safely and was later picked up by a jeep from lwakuni.

Five days later, on September 9, the Australians lost their commanding officer, W/Cdr Louis Spence, DFC, when his Mustang failed to pull out of a dive during a napalm attack. It crashed into the ground and exploded on impact.

There was little time to mourn this sad loss because the pressure of operations was unrelenting. F/Lt Johh (Bay) Adams took over temporary leadership of the squadron in the air while base administration was handled by Air Commander A. Charlesworth until a hew CO arrived.

The new man was S/L. . dr Richard Cresswell who, at the age of 21, had actually been 77 Squadron’s first commanding officer just after it was formed back in March 1942, in Western Australia. In fact, it had been Cresswell who had scored the squadron’s first victory when he intercepted a Japanese bomber over Darwin in the dark hours of a November morning in 1942.

Meanwhile, the nature of the war had changed dramatically. On September 15, 1950, General MacArthur’s Operation Chromite, the largest amphibious operation since World War II using a fleet of 261 ships, landed US Marines at Inchon deep behind the enemy’s lines and not far from Seoul. By the end of the first day, for a cost of 20 killed, one missing and 174 wounded, all set objectives had been taken. Seven days later, Seoul, the South Korean capital, Was in American hands. The demoralised North Koreans fled northwards to avoid being trapped but large numbers of them were cut off and captured. By the beginning of October, the strengthened United Nations armies had crossed the 38th Parallel into North Korea itself in pursuit of the enemy who were melting away towards the Yalu River, the frontier with Chinese territory. On the 19th the North Korean capital of Pyongyang fell into UN hands.

With the fighting apparently racing to an end, the Australian airmen found that they were having to fly longer and longer missions to find fewer and fewer targets. The decision was taken to transfer Tl Squadron from Japan to Pohang ori the south-east coast of Korea. They were established there by October 12.

While they were flying missions from here, word came that enemy resistance had suddenly hardened. The UN forces stopped abruptly to assess what had happened. Rumours spread. Had the Chinese intervened? If so, would this be the next step towards World War Ill?

After a relatively easy few weeks, 77 Squadron was placed on ‘Maximum Effort’ status. Although there was a lull in the ground fighting there were now plenty of targets to strike from the air. Dick Cresswell and his flight found a convoy which had been severely mauled by American F-51s and added to the carnage until they ran out of ammunition. F/Lt Fred Barnes led another flight of Mustangs down onto a convoy that had been dispersed and poorly disguised as haystacks and destroyed 12 of them. There was no longer any real doubt that fresh Chinese forces had been committed to back up the North Koreans.

A new, menacing force also appeared in the air. At 13. 45 hours on November 1, six fast, swept-wing jet fighters flew across the Yalu River from Antung, the large Chinese airfield just on the other side of the border in Manchuria, and attacked a flight of American F-51Ds working with a T-6 ‘Mosquito’ spotter. Luckily the Americans escaped unscathed but the debut of the Russian-built MiG-15s of the Chinese People’s Republic Air Force posed a serious threat to UN air supremacy. Several indecisive encounters took place over the next few days and on the 7th in the Sinuiju area four l, JSAF Mustangs were attacked by four MiGs, again inconclusively but hits were scored on a number of enemy jets. Although the MiG-15 far outclassed anything the US had flying in Korea the Chinese pilots seemed very cautious, gaining experience perhaps or testing for reactions.

On November 8, Boeing B-29s covered by Lockheed F-80C Shooting Stars, the Americans raided Sinuiju. MiG-15s came up from Antung to intercept and during the ensuing battle Lt Russell Brown of the 51st Fighter-Interceptor Wing, USAF, managed to shoot down a MiG to gain the distinction of being the first jet pilot in history to shoot down another jet aircraft.

In mid-November, 77 Squadron moved northwards to K27, the naval airfield at Hamhung near Yonpo on the eastern coast of North Korea, which they shared with USMC Corsair and Wildcat squadrons. Although they were on the opposite side of the Korean peninsula, Cresswell briefed his pilots for possible air-to-air combat.

In a bid to end the war quickly, before the Chinese were fully prepared, a winter offensive was organised to push forward to the Yalu. It began on November 24 but on the night of the 25th-26th, an overwhelming Chinese counter-attack pushed a wedge down the centre of the UN forces. The situation was suddenly reversed, give ground or be cut off and the giving of ground turned into a full-scale retreat.

Amid the ice, snow and bone-penetrating winds of the Korean winter, this dismal withdrawal was witnessed by the American and Australian pilots who flew air cover. To relieve the pressure as much as possible they bombed, rocketed and strafed causing heavy casualties whenever they found the enemy. It became a chaotic all-out effort . Typical of so many sorties was the one in which Fred Barnes and his wingman joined up with two US Marine Corsairs attacking Chinese troops and a tank. The Corsairs hit the tank while the Australian Mustangs cut down the soldiers, causing severe losses. However, a new and bitter task confronted them as well- to destroy UN vehicles that had been abandoned by the allies and so deny their use to the Communists.

Orders then came to vacate Hamhung. On December 3, the Australians flew south to K9 airfield at Pusan on the south coast, striking at targets north of Pyongyang on the way in spite of snow storms.

Next day the North Korean capital was abandoned altogether.

By December 24 the battle for North Korea was over and it was lost. The total cost to the United Nations was officially announced as 12,795 casualties killed, wounded and missing.

Things would have been far worse if UN troops had not been able to retreat under the protection of an air umbrella. The threat posed to UN air supremacy by the MiG-15s had been temporarily nullified by the introduction of F-86A Sabres of the USAF’s 4th Fighter-Interceptor Wing. Operating from K14 Kimpo, the only suitable airfield available in South Korea, the Sabres carried out their first orientation flights on December 15 but it wasn’t until two days later that they encountered MiGs for the first time in an area that was fast becoming known as ‘MiG Alley’. In a clash between four MiG-15s and four Sabres, Lt Col Bruce Hinton shot down the enemy leader’s wingman to score, without loss, the Sabre’s first victory of the war.

On the same day and in the same area, W/0 Geoff Thornton led a flight of four Mustangs down on a double-track railway bridge at Sonchon only 30 miles (48 km) from the Manchurian border. Heavy anti-aircraft fire met them as they roared in and dropped their bombs, scoring several direct hits that smashed away two spans of the bridge and wrecked the tracks.

In the face of continuing UN air supremacy, the only measures the advancing Chinese could adopt were to move troops and supplies by night, disperse and camouflage them by day and bolster anti-aircraft defences. The latter were becoming more dangerous as Fred Barnes recalled later:

The flying rate was pretty heavy, the weather had become very poor at times and certainly very cold, the anti-aircraft defences had progressively improved and the squadron was suffering steady losses. ‘

Large centres such as Pyongyang were becoming hazardous to approach. On December 22, Gordon Harvey, with Don Ellis as his wingman flew a combat air patrol that took their two Mustangs just five miles (8 km) east of the North Korean capital. At this point, Ellis called up and said twice, ‘I’m going to crash. ‘ Startled, Harvey, who was flying well in front, quickly made a 180-degree turn to find Ellis’ plane already burning on the ground. There was no sign of life and no parachute chance. Harvey returned to base after jettisoning his napalm over Pyongyang, noting as he did so 20 mm flak coming up from the southern side of the town. Ellis, who was from Sydney, was posted ‘missing believed-killed’.

As the new year rolled around the war situation deteriorated further as Chinese forces continued to sweep forward in spite of heavy losses. January 2, 1951, saw the Sabres evacuated from Kimpo out of danger to Japan. With the Sabres away the UN front-line fighter force consisted once more of F-80C Shooting Stars complemented by F-84E Thunderjets which had arrived at the same time as the Sabres. Both of these types could operate from Korean airstrips in the south. Experience had shown, however, that although an F-84 was faster and more nimble than an F-80 it was still no match for a well flown MiG-15. /the MiGs now decided to adopt aggressive tactics and operate in force to support their troops on the ground they could create havoc among the UN piston-engined fighter bombers. As January wore on they were seen making tentative sweeps further and further south.

At the same time, on the ground, the South Korean capital, Seoul, fell again into Communist hands as also did Kimpo and Suwon but by late January the impetus of the assault was becoming a spent force. The Chinese had suffered a massive number of casualties and their supply lines, subjected to ceaseless bombardment, were now stretched to their elastic limit. UN resistance was also strengthening and with this Chinese hopes for a decisive victory were correspondingly fading.

Amid this hostile climate, it was discovered that the Chinese People’s Volunteer Army had taken over a large school complex of nine buildings for its headquarters in Pyongyang. Joint Operations Control assigned the task of destroying this target to the 35th Fighter-Interceptor Wing at Pusan to which 77 Squadron was attached as an integral part. On two separate occasions, several flights of American F-51s from the 39th and 40th Squadrons took off on the mission but each time they were forced to abort because of weather conditions – cloud, snowstorms and fog.

Now came 77 Squadron’s turn. It would be the first operation of the Korean War scheduled to be conducted at full squadron strength.

This would be Gordon Harvey’s 84th mission and his last on piston-engined Mustangs. Back in December 1950, Prime Minister R. G. Menzies had announced that as part of a programme to modernise the RAAF, Gloster Meteor Mk-8 twin-jet fighters were being purchased from the British Government and No. 77 Squadron would be the first to receive them. News had been received that the first batch was en route to a Japanese aircraft carrier. So that at least some Australian pilots would have jet fighter experience before their arrival, an agreement was made with the Americans to have three pilots train on F-80C Shooting Stars. The chosen few were Dick Cresswell, newly arrived Des Murphy, who had already checked out on D. H. Vampires back in Australia, and Gordon Harvey.

Omens for the mission did not augur well.

Weather reports for the attack were poor and during the morning the sky remained grey, cold and overcast. Hills surrounding the airfield on three sides were shrouded in thick, threatening, low-level clouds. Everyone was ready with nowhere to go. . . The morning passed with painful slowness but as time wore on the weather showed gradual improvement. . . then at last it came. The word was: ‘Go’.

One by one engines were started – all engines, that is, except Gordon Harvey’s.

Another omen?

It still wouldn’t start! Harvey cursed. All around, the engines of the other Mustangs were throbbing with power and they were almost ready to taxi out onto the runway. He tried again . . . still no luck. There was no question of him aborting the mission, he was deputy leader and he had to lead the second group. After one last try he gave it away and clambered down from the cockpit.

Without hesitating, he ran over to the standby aircraft. This plane already had a pilot strapped in ready for take-off but Harvey ordered him out. This was a standard procedure. Quickly he climbed in and started the motor; there was a sense of relief when it burst into life. Just in time he taxied out with the others.

At the southern end of the runway the twelve Mustangs, grouped in threes, rewed their engines and took off, climbing up into the haze to the north. Pusan dropped away and disappeared. The sky was still heavily overcast.

The trip northward went smoothly with the flights spacing themselves at wider intervals. The attack plan called for the aircraft to attack at well-spaced intervals in flights of three. In this way the debris, dust and smoke had time to settle between attacks and each new group coming in had a chance to assess the previous flight’s results.

At exactly 13. 00 hours, Dick Cresswell’s flight hurtled down on the target and released its bombs. They found the anti-aircraft gunners alert and waiting because high-flying B-29s were thundering over the city at the same time. The delayed take-off had put the Australians behind schedule. At least any MiGs that had ventured out in the poor weather would probably be intent on intercepting the Super fortresses. Ground fire was enough to worry about. Immediately after completing their bomb run, Cresswell led Dropkick Able around to rocket and strafe the gun positions, two of which were swiftly silenced.

Red-haired Geoff Thornton and his flight followed suit. Thornton saw four bomb bursts in the middle of the target area and planted his own two bombs into a large red building. Altogether results were assessed as four direct hits, four near misses and four misses. Ron Howe’s Mustang, A68-799, had its elevator damaged by ground fire.

Shortly afterwards, at 13. 10 hours, the napalm-carrying Mustangs came skimming low over the roof tops. Ashe closed, Gordon Harvey in the leading aircraft could see flashes from exploding bombs among buildings not far away where the B-29s were unloading – a decidedly unhealthy place to be! The Americans were out of sight above the clouds, blind bombing by radar. No time to worry about that. The Mustangs fired their rockets off in salvo and dropped their napalm, scoring several hits with both.

The last group of three, led by Fred Barnes, approached the target. Barnes recalled the scene that greeted them:

‘ . . . we could actually see the guns and crews firing at us. There was a great deal of noise, smoke, and flashes of explosives and all attention was in releasing weapons accurately, getting down to very low level and getting out of the target area. . . ‘ He and his flight were in the middle of their attack when a very matter-of-fact voice echoed through their earphones: ‘Dropkick Easy One, this engine is losing power. . . ‘ It was Gordon Harvey. Was he hit? Seconds later the same cool, calm voice announced: ‘Dropkick Easy One, I am going to belly land this aircraft. ‘

On the other side of the target at a height of only 200-300 feet (322-483 m), Gordon Harvey was in trouble. There had been an explosion in the engine. It may have been hit by small arms fire but there had been no concussion beforehand, no thud or knock of a bullet striking home, only the explosion. The cockpit seemed to be full of oil and smoke and there was no power. He had to find a place to land quickly because it was impossible to gain enough altitude to bail out. There was just one chance – if the ice was thick enough to withstand the weight of his crippled plane-the frozen Taedong River below.

Harvey’s two wingmen, Allen Frost and Les Reading, followed him down. They saw him touch down wheels-up and slide along on the ice and snow towards an island jutting out of the frozen river. The Mustang, still intact, finally slid to a halt and as they swept up and away Frost and Reading saw Harvey climb out of the cockpit apparently unhurt. On the white landscape below it was difficult to pick out features but they circled back, using the island as a landmark, and spotted a running figure dashing for the cover of a haystack.

The downed Australian’s position was far from good. His aircraft was down near a snow-covered island which was only four miles (6 km) northwest of Pyongyang so it was most unlikely that his landing had gone unobserved by the enemy. Moreover, no UN troops were within 150 miles (240 km) of the North Korean capital at this stage of the war. A helicopter represented his only chance. Frost climbed to 16,000 feet (4877 m) to improve radio reception in an effort to summon a rescue helicopter but the answer came, ‘none available. ‘

Meanwhile, Dick Cresswell and his section continued to make strafing runs on the enemy gun positions until Dropkick Mike Flight emerged safely from its attack on the target, which by now appeared to be completely destroyed. They then flew to where Harvey had come down in order to provide air cover for a rescue attempt or to await relief. The rest of the Mustangs were sent home to avoid possible fuel shortages.

Attempts to obtain a rescue helicopter were fruitless but back at Pusan, it was decided to drop a message to the stranded Australian to keep his hopes up. A flight of American F-51s, already briefed to carry out an armed reconnaissance patrol in the area, was detailed to make the drop. There had been no further sightings of Harvey but at least the message could be put down near to his last reported position.

Cresswell, Dawson and Mitchell waited until they were released before heading home. On the way, being low on fuel, they landed at Taejon airfield, refuelled and arrived back at Pusan two hours after the rest of the squadron.

The evening was spent working out a search and rescue operation. The US Navy was contacted and agreed to have a helicopter standing by provided there was a fair chance of recovering Harvey. Pyongyang was an unhealthy area for a slow-moving ‘windmill’. Cresswell would lead a flight consisting of Allen Frost, Richard Turner and Les Reading at first light on a low-level search. The Mustangs were to be fitted with long-range fuel tanks to extend the time they may need to spend in the area. A flight of F-51s from the 35th Group would accompany them and while over the capital they would rendezvous with a further two flights of American Mustangs from the 18th Fighter Group which would act as top cover.

Next morning everything went according to plan and the Australians had no difficulty finding the island in the frozen Taedong River again. Harvey’s Mustang was still there. Only the burnt-out shell of the fuselage with seemingly intact wings now remained. Around it, they could see many footprints in the snow. On the island, there were about four hundred huts but although there were signs of habitation there was no one around. Probably they had taken cover. Cresswell and his flight swooped down to rooftop level and gunned their engines hoping to attract Harvey’s attention if he was nearby. . . no luck.

The next step was to comb the foothills to the north then the higher hills to the north-west followed by the northern bank of the river and finally north-east . . . no good. Next, they tried the flat areas to the south of the island and both banks of the river for 15 miles (24 km) but all to no avail, there was no sign of the missing pilot. He must have either been killed or captured. There was only a slim chance that he could have escaped from the area. After several hours of searching Cresswell reluctantly thanked the top cover flights and told them to go home.

He and the others flew to Chinampo and called the Airborne Controller with instructions to contact his base and cancel the standby helicopter. In a subdued mood, they returned to Pusan.

What had happened to Gordon Harvey? Was he a prisoner? There was no news. As time passed hopes began to rise that he would somehow make it back, perhaps by escaping through enemy lines. Then, several weeks later, a rumour spread that he had been captured and was now in Moscow. This later changed to an account in which he was captured and shot. For eleven months nobody really knew until one day his name turned up on POW lists which were exchanged between the United Nations and North Korea.

At least he was alive. . .

On that day back in January 1951, when the target had been Pyongyang, the person seen running for cover under a haystack by the pilots had not been Gordon Harvey. The difficulty of keeping track of the small figure of a particular man from a fast-flying fighter-bomber on that grey overcast day is obvious. As the Mustangs circled this was the first movement they saw in the general area of the downed plane and so the mistaken assumption had been made. When Harvey’s plane slithered to a halt he quickly scrambled out of the cockpit. He was shaken and bruised but otherwise unhurt. A quick survey of the scene revealed that the wide surface of the frozen river was too open, there was no immediate cover. In the distance on what he assumed to be high river banks he could make out a few houses but little else. The only possible place to hide was what seemed to be a very large brick building on a hill, possibly the island, a long way off. He set out for it, trudging across the expanse of ice.

Progress seemed hopelessly slow. . . too slow. He was only halfway across when they picked him up. A group of North Koreans were running towards him. They appeared to be civilians but at least one man was carrying a rifle. There could be no escape, there was simply nowhere to go and there were too many of them to attempt to fight them off.

He was quickly hustled to a farmhouse and placed under guard.

Outside from time to time he could hear low-flying aircraft, probably searching for him. An hour ago he had been up there . . . Time passed and the sound of planes eventually died away. It was shortly after this that soldiers, an officer with some men, came and took him away.

Harvey was not immediately placed into a POW camp. For the first five months of his captivity, he was kept with other prisoners to work in labour gangs around Pyongyang shifting supplies at night. He saw for himself the devastation caused by UN bombing of the centre of the city and likened it to the scenes of destruction of Berlin in the last war. However, for the most part, the prisoners were kept in a battered brickyard on the outskirts of the city.

On April 28, 1951, accompanied by two Americans, he broke out in a bid for freedom. For six days they avoided recapture and travelled southwards through unfriendly territory only to be caught while trying to locate a boat to make a river crossing.

Back at the brickyard, nicknamed ‘Pok’s Palace’ because of the tyrannical North Korean major in charge, they were harshly punished for their escape. Each man was kept in a hole in the ground which was about seven feet deep (2 m) by approximately three feet (1 m) square. Harvey was there for 45 days and during this time one of the Americans died. Afterwards, on June 23, he and a number of other prisoners were transferred to Pinchon-nee, a POW camp near the Yalu run by the Chinese.

Conditions at Pinchon-nee were Spartan to say the least but the new location was far better than the brickyard in Pyongyang. This was to be his home for the next two years and two months.

As time passed three other Australian airmen, who had been shot down and captured, joined him. The first was Ron Guthrie, the first Gloster Meteor pilot to be brought down in air-to-air combat with MiG-15s (refer to High Altitude Bail Out, Australian Aviation, June 1981), and late in December 1951, came Vance Drummond and Bruce Thompson who had been brought down after a huge dogfight over Sunchon (refer to Decision Over Sunchon, March 1982, and Black Diamond Leader, December 1982). Because of overcrowding, three other squadron pilots who were shot down later in the war ended up in another camp.

Conditions and treatment gradually improved as the peace negotiations at Panmunjom progressed but it was not until July 27, 1953, that the cease-fire went into effect and a month later, in August, that Gordon Harvey tasted sweet freedom again. He had the somewhat dubious honour of being the first Australian pilot to be captured but now he had the real honour of being the first to be released, after thirty-two months of captivity.

Postscript: Gordon Harvey stayed on as a member of the RAAF after his return to Australia. First he attended a refresher course at East Sale, Victoria, and afterwards, was posted to Williamtown, NSW There, in the Sabre Trials Flight, he found himself once more under his old CO Dick Cresswell and also in the company of former 77 Squadron pilots Vance Drummond and Des Murphy. His later service included several overseas appointments including a two-year posting to the USA in which he gained flight experience on North American F-100 Super Sabres, attachment to the Royal Malaysian Air Force as Deputy Chief of Staff and two years as RAAF Air Attache in Paris. Group Captain G. , R. Harvey, DFC, retired from the RAAF in 1974 after 32 years of service.