Though we will never know what happened, it was reasonable to conclude that the crew of the EF-111, like other -111 crews, had radar warning signals or visual sightings that indicated an Iraqi interceptor approaching for a kill. Once again, the AWACS picture was clean of enemy aircraft, and once again, F-15 aircraft were in the immediate vicinity.

It seemed that Baghdad Billy had finally achieved a shoot-down.

Everyone in the TACC was upset; and—not surprisingly—there was blaming and finger-pointing.

In the hall the next morning, Buster Glosson lit into Chris Christon, whose intelligence shop had passed unedited reports of the phantom interceptor to all the aircrews, thereby giving the story credibility. Chris fought back. As he saw it, his job was to get the word out. If the EF-111 aircrews had observed something, he reported it to the other units. And it was then the job of the local commanders to make sure the aircrews didn’t do anything extreme, like a low-altitude jink-out at night.

Both Buster and Chris were right. It was Chris’s job to get the word out. And it was Buster’s job as the fighter division commander to worry about the lives of his aircrews.

But the real blame was mine. I should have been more forceful about dispelling the Baghdad Billy myth right from the start. I should have seen that a crew would get so engrossed with defeating the apparently real threat that they succumbed to the ever-present killer, the ground. My failure meant two needless deaths and bitter tears for the families of the crew of Ratchet-75.

The message went out to knock off defensive reactions to Baghdad Billy.

The incident wasn’t a total loss. It inspired a song:

BALLAD OF THE F-111 JOCK BY MAJ. ROGER KRAPF

I’m an F-111 Jock, and I’m here to tell
of Baghdad Billy and his jet from hell.
We were well protected with Eagles in tight
but that didn’t stop the man with the light.
RJ and AWACS, they didn’t see,
as BAGHDAD BILLY snuck up on me.
Then I found a spotlight shining at my six
and my Whoozoo said, “HOOLLYY SHEEIT.”
I popped some chaff and I popped a flare
but the Iraqi bandit, he didn’t care.
I had tracers on my left, and tracers on my right,
with a load of bombs, I had to run from the fight.
I rolled my VARK over and took her down
into the darkness and finally lost the clown.
When I landed back at Taif and gave this rap,
CENTAF said I was full of crap.
I’m here to tell you the God’s own truth.
That Iraqi bandit, he ain’t no spoof.
You don’t have to worry, there is no way
you’ll see Baghdad Billy if you fly in the day.
But listen to me, son, for I am right.
Watch out for BILLY if you fly at night!!!