Royal Navy carriers also provided tactical air support for the UN ground forces. The HMS Glory was on station with Task Group (TG) 95.1, providing Sea Furies and Fireflies for the interdiction campaign. The HMS Ocean followed, and a total of six Commonwealth carriers served in Korean waters, including the Australian carrier Sydney.
THE WEEKEND WARRIORS
By the creation of the air task groups, the Navy was able to provide the aircraft to outfit the decks of the Essex-class carriers returning to the operational fleet out of mothballs. But the cockpits still had to be filled and the maintenance personnel had to be provided. The U.S. Naval Reserve responded in just the way it had been designed, to augment the naval aviation squadrons during mobilization in time of war.
During World War II, the Navy had invested heavily in the training of Navy pilots, a process that involved the meticulous selection of young men with aeronautical aptitude and took time and resources — bases, planes, and instructors. In the postwar demobilization, most of these pilots had left active duty to return to civilian life. Fortunately, the Navy had made plans to preserve this pool of talent for the day the Navy would again need these very special citizen-warriors to serve the country. In the most general terms, the Navy’s plan was to create a system of naval reserve air stations distributed regionally throughout the country, conveniently located in the vicinity of population centers where there would be concentrations of naval aviation veterans. Using surplus World War II naval aircraft, reserve squadrons would be created and former Navy pilots and aviation ratings signed up in the Naval Reserve squadrons to maintain their skills by regular periods of drill at the Reserve’s air stations or at municipal airports. The Reservists were organized into squadrons — replications of the commands in which they had flown in the war. Each squadron would drill — and that included lots of flying — one weekend a month. Hence the nickname “weekend warriors.” This way, one squadron’s inventory of aircraft would support four squadrons of pilots, who would maintain their flight proficiency sufficiently to be ready mobilization assets. They loved the flying and were being well paid for it. Each squadron of Reservists would also be activated for a two-week period each year to fly together on an extended and intensive schedule, usually at a Navy field well away from their home station.
During the early days of the Korean War, reserve squadrons would be called up for active duty as a unit, each unit to deploy as an organic squadron under its own commanding officer, with a full roster of Naval Reserve pilots and administrative organization. Of course, most of these pilots and sailors had well-established civilian careers that they very well might be reluctant to leave to fight in an unexpected war half a world away. Yet invariably they served with willingness, pride, and true professional competence. Their contribution was a major factor in the nation’s ability to mobilize sufficient tactical air power to successfully stem the advance of the Communist armies on the Korean peninsula.
When Air Task Group 1 deployed on board the Valley Forge to Korea in November 1951, the F4U Corsair squadron in the task group was Fighter Squadron 653, a Navy Reserve unit from near Cleveland, Ohio. The commanding officer of VF-653 was Lt. Cdr. Cook Cleland, USNR. I got to know Cook quite well, because as the group operations officer who dealt with the squadron commanders to coordinate scheduling, I was more deeply involved with VF-653 because, as a Reserve squadron, they were short on administrative experience and lacked familiarity with the routines and requirements of current carrier operations, especially in an air group with jet aircraft. Cook and I became very close friends as the result of that cruise, and our friendship has endured to this day.
Cook Cleland was a legendary figure in naval aviation even before he embarked with VF-653 for the Korean War. During World War II, he had been a dive-bomber pilot flying the Douglas Dauntless SBD and received the Navy Cross for scoring a bomb hit on a Japanese battleship early in the war. On another occasion he had been on antisubmarine patrol around the carrier when a force of Japanese land-based aircraft attacked the task group. Cleland and his rear-seat gunner intercepted the Japanese and got credit for shooting down a “Betty” multiengine bomber.
After the war, Cleland stayed in the Naval Air Reserve and became a racing pilot. The Cleveland Air Races, indisputably the most prestigious of the prewar air races, was starting up again in 1946 after a hiatus over the war years. Cleland entered with an FG Corsair, the Chance Vought — designed F4U built by Goodyear Aircraft, which he had bought as government surplus. Cleland came in sixth, badly defeated by surplus Army Air Forces Mustangs and Airacobras. He appealed to the Navy for assistance in obtaining an F2G Corsair, a better-performing Navy plane. This Goodyear Aircraft version of the F4U had been built at the war’s end, and none had been delivered to operational Navy squadrons. Only a handful had been produced. It mounted an enormous radial engine with four banks of cylinders, the Pratt and Whitney R4360, nicknamed “the corncob.” It was the most powerful radial aircraft engine yet built. Adm. Bull Halsey, who had known Cook Cleland as a Navy pilot, arranged to have three of these F2Gs declared surplus, and Cleland bought all of them for his racing team, all former Navy pilots. With his F2G, Cleland won the Thompson Trophy, the most coveted of the Cleveland Air Race events, in 1947 and 1949. With his three F2Gs sweeping first, second, and third in the 1949 race, Cleland had high hopes for continuing his successful racing career. Then, in 1950, the Cleveland Air Races were again cancelled because of the Korean War, and Lt. Cdr. Cook Cleland immediately volunteered for active duty. He was given command of VF-653, which drew its complement of pilots from the Cleveland-Pittsburgh area.
As a Naval Reserve squadron, its pilot roster was made up entirely of Reserve officers, most of whom had flown during World War II. VF-653 was mobilized and ordered to active duty at the beginning of the Korean War. Of the twenty-six original officers, there were twenty-five lieutenants and one lieutenant commander, Cleland. They called themselves “Cook Cleland’s Flying Circus” and developed a great squadron camaraderie. Cleland flew in Korea with the same panache he had exhibited as a civilian racing pilot. He was unabashedly admired by his squadron pilots, who tried to emulate his daring flying style. The unfortunate result was that VF-653’s combat losses were staggering. During the 1951–52 tour in Korea, VF-653 lost twelve of its twenty-six pilots. All but two were combat losses.
During this period, the carriers were primarily engaged in cutting railroad lines. The accuracy required for cutting the lines required repeated passes in a single area. The Communists reacted to these tactics by a buildup of flak all along the major railroad lines and mounted automatic weapons and antiaircraft guns on flat cars in reaction to concentrations of effort by CTF 77. All of the squadrons in the rail interdiction campaign were getting shot up, but VF-653 was especially hard hit. Cook Cleland and his squadron wanted to get more rail cuts than any other outfit. It was a finite but indisputable measure of success. After each mission, photo planes took vertical pictures of the assigned track segments and the photo analyst’s report went straight to commander, Seventh Fleet, where it was included in a daily damage assessment report distributed to all air units in Korea. VF-653 rolled up an impressive record, getting an average of 1.3 rail cuts per sortie. At this time the Air Force average was about 0.2 to 0.1 per sortie. This remarkable disparity was due in part to the Navy’s Corsair being a better tactical bomber than the Air Force’s P51, as well as to the skill and determination of Cleland’s Flying Circus.