When the Missiles Left Cuba
A Navy aircrew got it on film.
- By Paul F. Stiller
- Air & Space magazine, November 2012
The Pollysboy 11 crew: Author Paul F. Stiller, standing, third from left; Bruce McCormick to his left; George Fabik, far right; Eric Neptune, front row, far right.
Courtesy Paul F. Stiller
October 23, 1962. It was one of those inky nights. The stars were brilliant, but there was no moon and the lights of mainland Cuba had long since disappeared over the horizon to the southwest. We were flying our Lockheed Neptune SP-2H patrol aircraft “dark”; wartime procedures dictated that external running and strobe lights be extinguished. The afternoon had been the mixture of boredom and exhilaration that defines air reconnaissance patrol at sea. For about a week, flying out of U.S. Naval Station Guantanamo Bay on Cuba, our detachment of Neptunes had been making low-altitude flights three miles off the coast of Cuba to find, photograph, and report all aircraft, ship, and submarine traffic. We had already detected several submerged Soviet submarines.
Yesterday, all hands had gathered in the officers club mess hall to watch President John Kennedy announce on TV that Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev had ordered the deployment of short- and medium-range intercontinental ballistic missiles to Cuba, a mere 90 miles south of Key West, Florida. Some missiles were already in Cuba, along with surface-to-air anti-aircraft missiles and the technicians to launch them (see “Cuba During the Missile Crisis,” p. 32). Kennedy was quarantining the island: The United States would deny any Soviet ship carrying missiles, missile equipment, or military personnel from continuing to Cuba.
In Pollysboy 11, our radio call sign, Bruce McCormick was commander and primary pilot; I was copilot. Our flight plan would take us around the eastern tip of the island, then northwest toward Havana harbor. About 40 miles east of Havana, George Fabik, the radar operator, spotted a large target in the harbor, heading north toward the open ocean. “Encrypt a message to Caveman,” McCormick said.
I pulled the KAC-1 Red Book, a huge, metal-bound codebook, into my lap, and composed a report to the commander, Fleet Air Wing Five (radio name Caveman) at fleet headquarters in Norfolk, Virginia. “Break, break, Caveman, Caveman, this is Pollysboy 11. Prepare to copy, break, break.” Everyone in the Western hemisphere listening to the tactical frequency would be scribbling down our message.
Caveman’s reply: “Wait for the ship.”
McCormick throttled back the engines to conserve fuel. We spent the next three hours flying lazy circles at 1,500 feet. “Ordnance, fire up the galley and let’s see what they gave us for lunch.” It was the duty of the ordnance man to cook the food. When he wasn’t dropping bombs, Dennis McEachran was a pretty darn good cook.
“It’s steak and fried potatoes, boss. Anybody need fresh coffee?” If we had been in Norfolk, we would also have had the two dozen cupcakes my wife usually made for our patrol flights.
Puffy cumulus dotted the sky, with an occasional rain shower. Often, toward the end of a flight, we would fly under one of these showers to rinse salt from the airplane. We flew so close to the water that we would pick up spray from the waves. After a flight, when I swiped the airplane’s skin and held my fingers to my lips, I could taste salt.
“The ship’s at the three-mile limit.”
“Give me a heading.”
Comments (7)
Hi Paul,
Great job and extremely interesting article.
Best regards,
John
Posted by John Jacobson on September 22,2012 | 11:41 AM
I was less than a day old when Pollysboy 11 overflew that ship. This was global stuff, and really scary. Who knows what could have transpired if that deck was empty? Kinda glad the pullout was confirmed; otherwise I doubt I would have made it if the worst happened.
Posted by Mark Diggle on September 25,2012 | 09:51 AM
Pete,
Even after 50 years it's still good to revisit a Pollysboy adventure memory.
<><
Posted by Carp on September 26,2012 | 08:24 PM
I never knew that the searchlight couldn't be on for more than thirty seconds.
Posted by Bob Neu on September 27,2012 | 06:49 PM
(These comments are being made by a Naval Aviator who flew Neptunes (5's and 7's) in the mid 1950s, as well as H-3 helicopters embarked on the USS WASP right in the middle of the quarantine.)
Very, very interesting account and helps provide a clearer picture of all that took place. It raises some questions, however. One is tempted to speculate on why there were missiles photographed leaving Cuba five days before the Soviets agreed to remove them. Robert Kennedy's book, "Thirteen Days", gives almost an hour-by-hour account of the difficulty John Kennedy had in making the decisions that led to a peaceful resolution of this adventure. R. Kennedy makes no mention of any missile withdrawals that they were aware of during the tense period just prior to the Soviet "Blink". It certainly appears that the photos taken by Pollysboy 11 never reached the Kennedys, else they would have been mentioned in the book because R. Kennedy laid out very clearly all the relevant factors they had to consider while making their decisions. This October 23 withdrawal of missiles, had they known about them, would have been of considerable import thus unquestionably worth mentioning. Rather puzzling.
It's worth noting that R. Kennedy's book contains a picture captioned "October 24, Soviet ship laden with jet-bomber crates photographed by U. S. reconnaissance aircraft." Significantly, there are eight long massive crates on the vessel's deck. I would not describe them as appearing to be "cigar shaped", however.
Regarding another commenter's note about the thirty second limitation on the use of the searchlight, my recollection of that searchlight was that it was prone to malfunction, even when limitations were observed. However, on occasions when you needed to illuminate a surface contact the radio circuits would almost instantly be filled with profanity coming from the guy on the bridge of the ship that you just temporarily blinded. They were not at all understanding or charitable.
Posted by Kelsey Goodman on October 20,2012 | 08:31 PM
I was there, flew a P2V from Jacksonville, FL. Several yrs ago I visited the bone yard in Tucson, AZ, and swear I saw my old plane there.
Posted by Raymond Narug on October 22,2012 | 05:50 PM
I was A Radioman with Air Crew Wings, which means I was qualified to fly three different positions on the P2V Neptune. My primary position was Radioman. One of the other various duties was to photograph ships when required. Before my discharge in March of 1962, my crew LF 1 out of Jacksonville, Fl with Commander Bishop as Squadron Commander and Lt.Kraft as Captain and Lt. Nelson as Co-Pilot, flew recon flights rigging ships coming out of Cuba. On one occasion I remember photographing, with a movie camera, some ships having long tube shaped containers on their decks. As we flew over them, at a very low altitude, the crewmen on the ships pulled canvases off the tubes so we could see the tubes. Weather there was anything in those tubes or not we didn't know but we photographed what we saw. The particular flight I am referencing was a daytime flight.
Posted by Ken Wilhelm on November 8,2012 | 11:30 AM