By Bob Alvis, special to Aerotech News
July 1980 was the end of an era and one that I was privileged to see play out at George Air Force Base for four years.

My time there gave me a front row seat to watch some old warrior, aircraft that had become the subject of legend. I worked around the pilots and crews in the sunset years of this remarkable aircraft and the history they were involved with.

What really inspired me to share this story was the memory of all those days at the GCA site working on equipment, with F-105G Thunderchiefs taking off just a few hundred feet behind me. With an afterburner that would shake the soul out of you, I would look out and see a mile and a half transition to flight that the crews would call a controlled explosion. Many a time the Thuds you see in these pictures would roar past me. Even though it was my job to stay focused and support the mission to keep these birds in the air, the kid in me still looked over and marveled how incredibly cool it was to be at this place and time and see this remarkable sight .

Fast forward to a chance meeting with one of the very few survivors from the ranks of those aircraft that did not wind up in the scrap yards, but ended up in a desert airpark, fading in the hot desert sun. Aircraft 62-4416 was not just a static display — it had a life that stretched over two decades and a history that was nothing less than legendary. To me, the magic was recalling all the times it would rotate in front of me into flight or come across the desert on the deck at Cuddeback Gunnery Range, with the gun blazing and barking loudly. But long before it came into my life, it was flying the skies of Vietnam in what was called the Wild Weasel configuration, causing headaches for North Vietnamese SAM operators. Out of the hundreds upon hundreds of missions, this Weasel survived countless sorties over Vietnam and in the end came home to serve out her time preparing and training those that would continue on with the very important role of taking the fight to the enemy.

Reaching out and touching the aircraft’s skin, you feel the history if you are of a spiritual nature: the formations heading to Hanoi, the heroism, the planes lost, the combat, the constant refreshment of inflight refueling, the landings and take-offs halfway around the world in a war that many questioned. However, the men and the mission carried on as did old 62-4416, unlike 46 other of her stablemates that met their fate in a violent explosion. Sitting here quietly, she will never again shatter the silence with a kick of the afterburner heading off to an uncertain future in a war zone, or coast to a stop with a drag chute deployed and a crew drenched in sweat, with the realization that it all would happen again way to soon.

In July 1980 this all came to end for the F-105 Thunderchiefs at George Air Force Base with a ceremony that said ‘your place in history is complete.’ The war-weary Thuds that had seen individual numbers of 6,000 hours of flight would fly no more in the skies over America or foreign countries. Just a few static displays would remain of a proud bird that once ruled the skies. At George AFB, the powers-that-be wanted a worthy survivor as a gate guard to honor the pilots, crews and the plane for generations to come. After a review of combat missions and successes, F-105 # 62-4416 was chosen to wear that crown.

As the tides changed and the military restructured, George AFB became just a memory, and the once proud birds that graced the lawns of headquarters have now been shipped off to other locations. On this day as I stand or walk around this old friend, I find it ironic that we both have ended up here to carry on our life’s missions in the Antelope Valley. Two old warriors at Joe Davies Airpark baking in the sun, one with more history than one can imagine, the other just wishing to see his old friend one more time in all her glory.
Static displays for those of us that lived it just doesn’t do it – however sometimes it’s all we have.

Till next time, Bob out …