18th Fighter-Bomber Wing in Korea

1st Lieutenant HARRY DUGAN - Guts of a Different Kind

Taegu, South Korea, August, 1950

Because of the men I was priviliged to be associated with during my Korean air war experiences, I remain firmly convinced that valor and courage are not inborn, they are not hereditary; instead, they are the result of their then-current environment. And, while I was serving with the 18th Fighter-Bomber Group and the pilots of those old derelict F-51 Mustangs, I can proudly state that: ... I ate with heroes... I drank with heroes, and to a certain extent, a part of me died with many of those heroes. Perhaps yet another personal example which I describe here, will help to explain what I mean....

First Lieutenant Harry E. Dugan demonstrated his courage on the ground ... in an unexpected way.

Following the invasion of South Korea on Sunday morning, June 25, 1950, by the North Korean forces, we had gone into Korea in mid-July 1950 with the first increment of the 'Dallas Project', a hastily-formed squadron of volunteer fighter pilots from the 18th Fighter-Bomber Group and it's support groups, then stationed at USAF's Clark Field in the Philippine Islands.

1st Lieut. Harry Dugan had been frustrated at having been assigned to Clark Field's Air Base Group and, as a former P-51 combat fighter pilot during World War II, had been trying for many months, without success, to transfer into one of the 18th's three fighter squadrons. When he heard that the 18th was looking for Mustang-experienced volunteers to go to Korea, Dugan immediately contacted the 18th Fighter-Bomber Group Commander, Col. Hank Norman, and asked if he couldn't join the volunteers going North. He, too, was accepted because of his many hours of F-51 time, and went up to Taegu as a "buck fighter pilot"; I went along to be the full-time Squadron Intelligence Officer and part-time combat pilot.

It didn't take either, or any of us, long to realize that our gallant, but feeble efforts, initially flying ten derelict F-51 Mustangs from the dirt airstrip at Taegu, South Korea, were having little effect in slowing the North Korean's relentless offensive drive toward Pusan. Things improved somewhat in early August, with the arrival of a shipload of 150 'new' F-51 Mustangs and a batch of experienced fighter pilots fresh from the 'States on the USS Boxer.

But by that time the North Korean forces had crossed the Naktong River in three places and were within twelve miles of our base at Taegu. Their three-pronged attack, from the west, the north and the east would put them within artillery range of our Taegu airstrip within hours.

On August 6, 1950, we were forced to evacuate our F-51 Mustang fighters and a majority of our ‘Dallas Squadron’ personnel (we had not yet been redesignated as the "12th Fighter-Bomber Squadron) were evacuated from the 'Pusan Perimeter', across the Sea of Japan to Ashiya Air Base, Japan.

Having flown fighters in European combat during World War II, Harry Dugan had been exposed to many harrowing experiences, and had been fortunate to have escaped that war with life and limbs intact.

When we first started combat operations from Taegu in mid-July, 1950, Harry flew half a dozen early missions, but with each bombing or rocket pass he felt his past recollections of the sounds and feelings of his scary European war experiences becoming terrifyingly real once more. The net effect of his psyche produced an ever-growing apprehension for his present well-being. He "knew" that he was going to be maimed or killed by ground fire ... of which there was, of course, a great possibility, because low level Fighter-Bomber combat activities were universally acknowledged to be the most dangerous of all aerial operations. Dugan was far from being unique with his morbid apprehension; each and every one of us faced the same fear for our unknown futures.... and any combat pilot who denies having had such feelings is either a damned liar, a fool... or both!

By the 1st of August, 1950, Harry had recognized and identified his fears ... he didn't need the opinion of a medical "Shrink" to help define his problem, a luxury which was not yet available to our burgeoning little war zone... but despite recognition of the causes, the depth and severity of the memory of his prior experiences stymied his ability to bring the deep emotions under control. But Dugan admitted to those overpowering fears that were so affecting his combat performance. Finally, when he could stand it no more; when he felt that "he was becoming more of a hazard than a help" to the other members of his flights, he was courageous enough to ask Captain Harry Moreland, our Squadron C.O., if couldn't be relieved from more combat flying.

"Instead", he said, during just the time we were preparing to evacuate our Taegu air strip, by retreating to Japan because of the imminent artillery attacks by the North Koreans ...artillery shells had already fallen in the city of Taegu ...that he would "do anything that needed to be done, bar none", to support the war effort from the ground".

Moreland could understand Dugan's psychological predicament, for he too had been a highly-decorated fighter pilot in the European theater during World War II.

He assigned Lieutenant Dugan the task of Operations/Armament and Refueling coordinator ... a job for which there was no formal position in a "normal" fighter squadron; but then, our Dallas Squadron could hardly be considered a 'normal squadron'.

In his new position, Dugan was responsible to check each airplane as it landed from a mission, note whether it had sustained battle damage and, if so, whether it could be rescheduled for another mission or whether it had to first have repairs. He would determine the type of bombs and rockets which would be required on the next missions, then would see to the refueling and reloading of machine guns and all armament, inform the Operations Officer when the ship was ready for flight and finally, hunt up the scheduled pilot, who was by then napping under the wing of one of the planes, deliver his new mission instructions, then transport him to the aircraft in ample time for the next take-off ... all of this activity usually taking place within 60 minutes from the time the flight had landed from the previous mission. Harry Dugan turned out to be a human dynamo, and twice as efficient.

When the enemy lines were but eight miles from our beleagured Taegu airstrip, and artillery shells could be seen bursting within sight of the field ... when it was decided that our airplanes should be removed from the premises for safekeeping, Harry Dugan volunteered to remain behind at Taegu to keep his arming and fueling operation going ... knowing full well that the base could be over-run by the enemy within a matter of hours.

Harry remained at Taegu for three long and dangerous weeks while the battle lines see-sawed back and forth from one nearby hill to the next, all the time running the vital Refuel-Rearm operation in his typical, friendly, efficient manner.

He had his jeep at the ready; he and his little crew could have 'bugged-out' at any time, without criticism ...but despite the nightly bombardment of the surrounding hillsides, they didn't leave. He stayed on the job until his services were no longer needed. And what a job he had done!

Lieutenant Harry Dugan was promoted to Captain, and was awarded the Legion of Merit medal for his services, when he returned to the 'States the following year, while the rest of us pilots were receiving Air Medals and Distinguished Flying Crosses for our services. The Legion of Merit, unfortunately, was the same level of award as the Tokyo 'headquarters weinies' were receiving, ...the people who would never get close to the war... leave their safe, comfortable offices... except for the once-a-month overnight flight to Pusan and then quickly back to Japan, to take 'combat credit' for income tax purposes.

Harry Dugan was not a fatality of the Korean War, except possibly for his own ego, for feeling inadequate in not being able to cope, by himself, with his inner fears. He went on to continue his Air Force career, and eventually had a successful second career in industry with Hughes Aircraft.

But no matter what Harry might have thought of his own so-called lack of macho image, or 'valor according to Hollywood'... to me, Harry Dugan was a "hero". He proved it by his actions at Taegu while the rest of us ‘brave aeronauts’ were sleeping comfortably, and safely, at our new base in far away Ashiya, Japan.

Duane E. 'Bud' Biteman,
Lt. Col, USAF, Ret
‘...One of those Old, Bold Fighter Pilots’
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