I had gone out to Beale AFB in July 1977 to interview for the U-2 job. While standing around the squadron, we were asked to assemble in the common U-2/SR-71 briefing room to hear a guest speaker. Our mystery guest that day was Francis Gary Powers. He briefed us on his part in the development of the U-2 program and I had a chance to talk to him after the meeting. He felt that it was possible that someone sabotaged his airplane on the ground in Peshawar, Pakistan and that’s what brought down his aircraft, not the SA-2 missiles.
About a week later, on August 1, 1977, Powers died in a helicopter crash in the Sepulveda Dam recreation area; he had run out of fuel. According to Powers’s son, a mechanic had replaced a faulty fuel gauge without telling Powers, who misread it. At the last moment, he noticed children playing in the area and directed the helicopter away from them. Had he not done this, he might have landed safely.
The U-2 played a prominent role in another Cold War event, The Cuban Missile Crisis. This crisis was the moment the Cold War came closest to turning into nuclear conflict.
In the late summer of 1962, Khrushchev and Castro made a secret agreement to construct several missile sites in Cuba. Scholars have argued about the reason why these missiles were placed there. Some say that Khrushchev didn’t really want the missiles in Cuba but was just using them to pressure the U.S. to remove its missiles from Turkey and Italy. Others believe that Castro pressured the Russians to place the missiles there in order to bolster his security against an impending U.S. invasion. Whatever the reason for their placement, they were noticed by the Defense Intelligence Agency, which tasked a U-2 to scan suspected sites. The U-2 brought back evidence of medium and intermediate-range ballistic nuclear missiles only 90 miles from U.S. soil.
The crisis caused by the evidence of this film brought the world to the brink of nuclear war. President Kennedy ordered a blockade of Cuba to prevent any more arms from entering the country. Several Russian vessels tried to run the blockade, increasing the chance of war between the super powers. Both countries refused to back down, but meanwhile, back-channel negotiations were ongoing between the U.S. and Russia. During these negotiations, a U-2, flown by Major Rudolf Anderson, was shot down over Cuba by a Soviet SA-2 missile. All of President Kennedy’s Joint Chiefs called for an invasion of Cuba because of the shoot down. The President did not retaliate and allowed negotiations to continue. The crisis was resolved when the Russians agreed to remove their missiles from Cuba and in return the U.S. secretly agreed to remove its missiles from Turkey and Italy. Major Anderson’s body was recovered from Cuba and brought back to his home in South Carolina for burial. He was the first recipient of the Air Force Cross, the second highest military award that the USAF can give. It’s awarded for extraordinary heroism to an individual who distinguishes him or herself in combat.
Chapter 3
In July of 1977 my wait was over. I received notice to report to Beale for evaluation. Normally, I was always in good physical condition. I ran, lifted weights, waterskied, and played tennis and racquetball. To prepare for the U-2 medical evaluation, I ramped it up. I increased my running mileage and started running stadium steps as well. I was now training hard six days a week. By the time I left for Beale, I was in the best shape of my life.
The U-2 medical evaluation was essentially the same as NASA’s astronaut physical. Everything was evaluated: Cardiovascular health, balance, blood work, vision, and urine were tested. We were even tested to see if we were susceptible to flicker vertigo. This is an imbalance in brain cell activity caused by exposure to low frequency flickering of a bright light. This flickering can cause disorientation, vertigo and nausea. The effects of it are similar to seizures caused by epilepsy. Scientists investigating a series of unexplained helicopter crashes first noticed this phenomenon. Flicker vertigo in a helicopter occurs when the pilot looks up through the blades of the main rotor as it turns in the sun causing the light to strobe. Some people are vulnerable to flicker vertigo and a vulnerable pilot may lose control of his aircraft and/or have a seizure.
To ensure I was mentally healthy, I was thoroughly evaluated by an Air Force psychiatrist. I passed all of his tests.
The most thorough tests were saved for the heart. In addition to all the normal cardiac tests, I was also subjected to a stress EKG. I was hooked up with wires to an EKG machine and placed on a treadmill. The treadmill inclination was set to “0” and I started out with a walking pace. Every three minutes, the treadmill speed increased, as did the incline. I was told to go as long as I could and, since I wanted in this program, I did. After 18 minutes I was running full bore up a steep hill. I had enough and signaled the operator to cut it. He lowered the angle and slowed the speed. When the treadmill stopped I got off but remained attached to the EKG machine. They continued to monitor me for about five more minutes just to see how long it took for my heart to return to normal. The EKG technician said he’d never seen anyone go so long on this test. I was feeling pretty good about the test after that remark. My attitude was about to change.
The cardiologist met with me after the test to go over the results. I expected the doctor would praise my excellent conditioning. Instead he shocked me by telling me that I had the heart of a 45-year old with cardiac ischemia. In layman’s terms, it meant that my heart muscle was receiving insufficient blood flow. I was stunned. He showed me the little blips on the paper. Then he calmly told me that I was grounded and I probably would never fly for the Air Force again. I was 29 years old, in the best shape of my life, and my future was crumbling before me. Up to this point, I had passed every physical and mental test they had thrown at me. This made no sense at all. Before leaving the room, the doctor said there might be a way for me to fly again. If I wanted to get back on flying status badly enough, I would have to go to the Brooks Army Medical Center in San Antonio Texas for a “thorough” evaluation. If I passed all of their tests, I would be allowed to fly again. I had no choice. I packed my bags for San Antonio.
The best word I can come up with to describe the process at Brooks would be “exhaustive.” This physical lasted two weeks. You can do a lot of testing in two weeks and I had them all. I was at Brooks to have my heart problem evaluated and even though I had passed every other test given at Beale, I still had to undergo every test they had. Every hearing, vision, blood, balance, and mental test was retaken. Plus a few more I hadn’t taken previously. One of the additional tests was a radioisotope scan. Radioisotopes were injected into my blood stream. Then I was inserted into what looked like a drawer at the morgue. When the drawer was closed I was in total darkness with my body pressed up against the sides and only a few inches between my face and the lid. They did give me a panic button to use just in case. But now I know what it feels like to be buried alive. I was never really sure if this was really a radioisotope test or a test to measure my panic quotient. I didn’t hit the panic button but my thumb remained on it throughout.
One of the lighter moments during those two weeks occurred when I ran across a navigator I had flown with in the C-130. He was at Brooks for an evaluation of an eye problem. We met in the lobby of our temporary quarters and I hardly recognized him. My eyes had been dilated for a macular degeneration test and I couldn’t see much of anything. His vision was fine and he called me over when he spotted me. Once I got close enough to him I knew who he was and we caught up on old times. He had a heart monitor attached for a 24-hour EKG. Within a few minutes, the irony of the situation had us both laughing.