By F.S. Lentz

Technically we were called VMFA 112. V -fixed wing, M -Marine, F-Fighter, A-Attack. We flew the F-4 Phantom.

Our call sign was Cowboy as we were based in Dallas. In World War Two we were the Wolfpack. Changing the “name” of a fighter squadron is no cake walk. It takes approval from the heads of Marine Corps aviation, so the process was long. In the pre approval period the squadron didn’t know if they were Wolfboys or Cowpacks. Cowboys stuck, voila.

At the time the football cowboys called them selves America’s foot ball team and the squadron had just been awarded Marine Corps figher squadron of the year, so we called ourselves America’s fighter squadron.

Back up some…we were a Reserve fighter squadron. At that time the US was learning the awful taste of the Viet Nam war and military of all services were held in pretty low regard.

The Cowboy’s response was “OK, watch this”.  You don’t like us and we are not crazy about you. And we have jets and are paid to fly , theoretically to defend U.S. Citizens-you.

A majority of the squadron were Viet Nam returnees and had no great love for civilians, then. Many had been spat upon at airports, self included.

Suffice it to say we had a laisses-faire attitude.Fly good, hard airplanes, go where we wanted to , and establish our selves as adversaries that would probably win most of the dogfights we were in. By the time I was a Cowboy we as a squadron had a reputation that preceded us. We had already had engagements with Jordanians, Australians, and Israelis. And did well.

We had unusual tactics. To wit: One trip was to Tyndall AFB, Fla. To take part in the Air Force’s College Dart program. They flew the F-102 Delta Dagger. It was a small honor to be there, but we went to fight and win.

The other back seater was a guy named Pops because he looked older than most of us. He had been prior enlisted and really wanted to do well as a commissioned officer. We did our brief and went to lay down on the concrete fllor dor a ‘combat nap’. A short snooze. Pops made sure we were out of hearing range when he gave me a hint that he had a plane, The Dart was single piloted and if it had a radar, it was wek. The Dart crews talked to each other constantly airborne, clearing each other six o’clock.

We would fly in closer together as the first ruse. We were very close to each other and split when we picked them up on radar.The they started yapping to each other, Pos had gotten their ‘fight frequency’ and we listened. Just before the actual fight started, Pop turned on his tape recorder and was broadcasting, loudly Willie Nelson singing If You’ve Got the Money Honey, I’ve Got the Time.

Unable to work their own plan, they separated and we shot them both down.

Legal? In a war, training for one or otherwise, Marines do what it takes to not get shot-and win,

To be continued.

QLVB, eh?  Lentz