Jimmy L. Escalle

Fighter Pilot MIA in Korea

By Jim Escalle, July 17, 2011.

After 2nd Lt. Jimmy Escalle finished combat crew training at Nellis Air Force Base, he was assigned to the 36th Fighter-Bomber Squadron (Flying Fiends), which was one of three squadrons assigned to the 8th Fighter-Bomber Group at Suwon Air Base (K-13) in Korea. The unit had been involved in the war from the beginning, flying F-80 Shooting Stars from Itazuke Air Base in Japan. When the 8th Group moved operations to Korea, they continued to fly F-80s, but switched to the F-51 for a brief time. Trading in their Mustangs for F-80s again, the pilots continued their fighter-bomber role, even though at the start of the war the squadron was successful in air-to-air combat, shooting down several North Korean aircraft.

On February 26, 1953, the 36th FBS stopped combat operations with their F-80s and began the transition to the F-86F Sabre. Jim arrived at K-13 a couple of days after this turnover began and was excited to learn that he would begin his combat tour flying the new aircraft.

The following is compiled from the chapter “Fighter-Bomber Missions” in my book, Unforgotten Hero: Remembering a Fighter Pilot’s Life, War, and Ultimate Sacrifice.

In early April 1953, the 35th and 36th Fighter-Bomber Squadrons were ready to fly combat missions with their F-86Fs. Before doing this, however, two pilots from the 51st FIG came over from the west side of the base to give the 8th FBG pilots some tips on air-to-air tactics. Capt. Joseph McConnell, Jr. from the 39th FIS and 1st Lt. Howard Leaf from the 25th FIS gave a “pep talk” to the guys before they went on their first missions, which were going to be MiG Alley sweeps. Leaf was in the 80th FBS before extending his tour with the 25th; therefore he was experienced in both air-to-air and ground support missions. McConnell was one of the leading aces at the time, credited with shooting down seven MiGs. He shot down his eighth MiG about a week after he and Leaf gave their talk. Over the next month and a half, McConnell would go on to shoot down eight more, becoming the highest scoring ace in the war, and one of only two triple aces in the war.

Because he was a “new head,” Lt. Escalle didn’t get to fly on as many of these early interceptor missions as he wanted, and was even a bit frustrated at the lack of missions being assigned to him. On April 16, Jim took a short break from his assigned duty to write a letter to his future sister-in-law, Jean Woekel, telling her about some of this frustration, along with letting her know how things were going. Being the big brother, he was still concerned about Bob, hoping that he wouldn’t have to come to Korea after he graduated from pilot training. Jim wrote:

After writing this letter, it was only about a week before Escalle went on his first fighter-bomber missions, which he liked just as much as the small number of MiG Alley sweeps that he flew. To him, blowing up a bunker or bombing a bridge was just as satisfying as getting the opportunity to shoot down a MiG-15, though he would have preferred doing both. But with two well-established fighter-interceptor wings already in Korea—the 51st FIW at K-13 and the 4th FIW at K-14 (Kimpo)—most of his missions would be air-to-ground.

The prisoner exchange that he mentions at the end of his letter was called Operation Little Switch, which started on April 17 and continued for the next five days. It put a hold on any combat missions. Although Escalle was supposed to get a combat mission on the 17th, according to what he wrote in the letter, only reconnaissance missions were flown while the sick and wounded prisoners were being swapped. When combat operations began again after this troop exchange was completed, the 36th FBS was back in the air, with the majority of the targets being troop concentrations, or bridges that needed to be knocked out.

During the month of May, the pilots in the 36th FBS went on their first close air support missions with the F-86s, and were assigned their first “truck alert” missions with the new aircraft. The Chinese and North Koreans naturally brought trucks full of weapons, ammo, and other items into the front line area; and because they usually drove at night, the pilots had to attack them after dark.

By the middle of May, all three squadrons of the 8th FBG were flying the F-86F Sabre on air-to-ground missions. Fighter-bomber missions were assigned to the 8th on a regular basis, spreading them out among each squadron. Sometimes weather played a crucial role in whether a mission could be carried out, or if it would be postponed or cancelled.

One particular target, known as J-14, was assigned to the 8th Group on nine different days of the month. Bad weather was the reason for the repetition of these missions. This target comprised of four heavy artillery guns located north of the front lines in the eastern sector area. It was a famous target for almost all the fighter-bomber pilots in the Group. The guns were well hidden and very hard to get at, but they were actually hit three different times, and 150,000 pounds of bombs were placed directly in the target area.

When the month was over, the 8th FBG had flown over 60,000 sorties, setting another record. Jim had over 20 missions by this time and was looking forward to more. Some of these missions included dropping 1,000-pound bombs on a multitude of tactical targets, with one of them being the heavily defended bridges at Sinanju; skip-bombing dams while flying only a few feet off the ground; going on armed reconnaissance patrols and shooting at targets of opportunity; dive-bombing enemy troops and supplies; and close air support missions on the front lines.

As every fighter pilot in Korea was required to do, Escalle hoped to fly 100 combat missions, even though he knew that he probably wouldn’t get that many by the time the war was over. However, he still would give up a scheduled R&R (rest and relaxation) in Japan to fly as many missions as possible.

In a letter that he wrote to his brother Bob on May 24, he mentions this along with a few other minor things. Bob and Jean had been married two weeks earlier, after Bob graduated from pilot training, and he was now at Nellis AFB going through gunnery training.

As the month of June began, more combat missions were finally assigned to Jim. Almost all of them were close air support missions, because the small but deadly battles along the MLR (Main Line of Resistance) near the 38th parallel had grown more intense by this time.

On June 8, as he and his flight leader, 1st Lt. Jack Mayo, were taxiing back to their revetments after completing a mission, Escalle spotted two airmen trying to put out a fire near an F-86. Apparently, an APU (auxiliary power unit) had caught fire when a .50-caliber round from a parked Sabre was accidentally discharged, piercing the gas tank of the APU. Unconcerned about his personal welfare, Jim stopped his plane, unbuckled and got out. He rushed over to the burning APU, went through the flames to disconnect it from its F-86, then pushed the unit out of the way before the fire caused serious damage to the plane. As soon as the unit was safely away from the area, two other airmen brought over a fire extinguisher and quickly put the fire out. Jim suffered some minor burns to his face, but nothing to warrant medical attention. He was later awarded the Soldiers Medal for this selfless deed.

Escalle didn’t mention this incident when he wrote a letter to Bob and Jean on June 11, only five days later. Nor did he mention the Air Medal that he had received earlier. His concern in the letter focused again on Bob not coming over to Korea. Bob was flying F-86s at Nellis by this time and had sent Jim a letter asking what squadrons he was in while he was there. In this letter, Jim responded:

Over the next two days, mainly due to bad weather, Escalle wasn’t assigned any missions. A pilot rarely went on more than two or three missions a day, even with clear weather, and that was followed by many more days of sitting around waiting for a mission to come up. This tedious waiting frustrated the pilots perhaps more than anything else. They wanted to fly combat missions, not sit outside the Ops building doing nothing. It wasn’t long, however, until they got what they wanted. The third week of June began with news that the Chinese had already amassed thousands of troops near the MLR and something big was getting ready to happen.

On June 15, 1953, while it was still dark, the Chinese armies broke through the ROK (Republic of Korea) sector of the MLR in the Pukhan River Valley. This was the big Chinese push that began days earlier, and now they had broken through the weak area of the front lines where it was defended by South Korean troops.

The Chinese and North Koreans knew that a truce could be signed and be put into effect at any time. They also understood, according to the potential outline of this truce that whatever territory they occupied at the time it went into effect would be theirs to keep. So they attacked in full force, with heavy artillery and armor backing them up.

Almost immediately after the breakthrough, the call came through to 8th FBW headquarters for the need of close air support in the eastern sector of the MLR, where the majority of deadly fighting was taking place. The pilots of the 8th FBG were then hurriedly called into action. Before the first rays of the sun penetrated the eastern horizon, the pilots in the 36th FBS, fully dressed for battle, climbed into the cockpits of their red-tailed F-86F Sabres. Under the command of Maj. Robert C. Ruby, they launched a 15-hour unrelenting assault on the front lines, strafing and dive-bombing the vast onslaught of Chinese troops, trucks, armor, and supplies.

With antiaircraft weapons being fired at them from all directions, along with a myriad of small arms fire, the pilots flying these close air support missions would first work into attack position over their selected target. Then, under the watchful direction of a Forward Air Controller flying in his slow-moving T-6 spotter aircraft, each pilot in a four-ship flight would, at approximately one minute spacing intervals, slowly push forward on his plane’s hydraulically-controlled flight stick, tilting the nose of his Sabre down at the proper angle of attack (usually 45 degrees) and dive into the target. He then released his 1,000-pound bombs at just the right moment before pulling back on the stick, feeling the G-forces as his aircraft methodically came back up from this steep dive. The FAC, himself being in harm’s way, always gave an assessment of the damage done. In most cases, he fired a “Willie Pete” (white phosphorus) rocket into the selected target area to pinpoint the spot where the fighter-bomber pilots needed to drop their ordinance.

But there was no room for error after beginning his run, and a fighter-bomber pilot had to put all of his attention on keeping the plane at the right angle of attack, as well as remembering when he had to pull up. If he didn’t begin his pull-up at the proper altitude (around 3,000 feet), his aircraft would be more vulnerable to the accurate range of the antiaircraft guns. Also, if a pilot’s plane was hit at a lower than safe altitude while on his dive-bombing run, he might have a hard time controlling his aircraft and could very easily slam into the ground. This happened to a lot of good fighter-bomber pilots who were hit during their bomb runs.

During this massive air assault against the Chinese, most of the pilots from the 36th FBS flew at least three or four of these type missions apiece, and a few of the “old heads” were able to wrangle five missions each. Nevertheless, the pilots couldn’t do their work alone. They heavily relied on the motivated, tireless, and courageous effort of the ground crews. The turn-around times were fast and efficient owing to the dedicated work of the crew chiefs, refuelers, and armament personnel. At the end of this arduous day, when all the assigned missions were finally completed and the last sweat-soaked pilot, with the help of his crew chief, wearily climbed out of his cockpit, the 8th Group was notified that it set another record by flying 290 sorties. The 36th FBS was told it racked up 121 sorties, breaking the record set by the 80th FBS with their F-80s back in April.

On June 16, the squadron repeated their missions, though they were fewer than the day before. The next two days the weather made it impossible to fly. On June 18, the second of these two flightless days, was a Thursday. Because Escalle didn’t have to fly he was given the assignment of airdrome officer. Around 8:30 a.m. he took a short break to write a couple letters, with one to his brother explaining some of the missions he had gone on during the squadron’s two-day assault against the Chinese. In this letter Jim writes:

The missions into North Korea were just as hazardous, if not more so, than the ones near the front lines. With the plethora of Soviet-equipped radar ranging antiaircraft batteries strewn about on almost every hill and valley in North Korea, along with the vast array of 37mm automatic weapon platforms strategically placed in various locations, it would be tragic if a pilot got a fatal hit on his aircraft before, during, or after striking his target. The chances for reaching friendly territory before bailing out would be very small, if not impossible. When the 36th FBS took to the skies again on June 19, this scenario came true for one pilot from Mike Flight.

While flying as element leader on an armed reconnaissance mission in North Korea, Escalle and his wingman, 1st Lt. Jack Senneff, spotted a convoy of camouflaged trucks on a dirt road parallel to the Imjin River, southwest of Wonsan. Since he and Senneff were making their strafing passes in opposite directions to avoid as much antiaircraft fire as possible, they lost visual contact with each other and maintained their relative positions to the trucks by radio calls.

Escalle called that he was going in on his second pass, so Senneff remained high waiting for the call that Escalle was off his target. When this call did not come for several seconds, Senneff began his second pass, having decided that Escalle was already off. Upon pulling off the target, Senneff called Escalle for his position but received no answer. He then began circling the immediate area looking for Escalle and calling him repeatedly from the radio. After considerable time in circling, calling and receiving no answer or sight of Escalle, Senneff had to return home due to low fuel.

A short time after Senneff returned to K-13, a ResCAP (rescue combat air patrol) was sent out to see if they could find Escalle or his aircraft. After several minutes of searching, the smoking wreckage of an aircraft was seen about 8 miles from the target area. When the flight got closer, they saw it was an F-86 because the complete tail section was there along with part of a wing, but no sign of Escalle. He was reported missing in action.

Although Escalle’s body has never been found, he is not forgotten. In his memory, a headstone was placed near his father’s grave so family members could remember his sacrifice. A memorial college scholarship was established by some of his high school friends in the 1990s. And in the summer of 2004, as a permanent memorial to Jim’s contribution in the field of aviation, his name was submitted to the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum’s Steven Udvar-Hazy Center to be placed on their Wall of Honor. Jim’s name can now be seen alongside other F-86 Sabre pilots who defended freedom in Korea, as well as those who defended it elsewhere.

More information about Jim Escalle and the upcoming book at Unforgotten Hero.