All of this cost a great deal of money. Nowadays, the media might even have a field day with the story of misuse of government jets. But the cost of that government jet that flew Chuck Horner from McGuire to Des Moines got paid back many times over during the next few years. There are some things you have to do for warriors.

After the 4th TFW, Horner’s next move was into combat in Vietnam.

Chapter 2 - The Big Lie

2

The Big Lie

IN April of 1965, Chuck Horner was on TDY at McCoy AFB in Orlando at a gunnery workup, preparing for a weapons meet called Red Rio. Because it was a major meet, he had done a lot of flying to prepare for it—pure gunnery missions three times a day, bombing and strafing—and he was at the peak of his performance. One night at the bar, the ops officer fingered him. “You’ve got orders,” he said. “Take a jet and get yourself back home to Seymour.”

“I better wait until morning,” Horner answered; he had a couple of drinks in him.

“No way,” the Ops said. “Get your ass in the jet and go.”

So Horner packed that night and flew home to Seymour Johnson, where he was met when he arrived. “You’ll be leaving in the morning on a secret mission,” he was told. “Pack for hot weather.” He went home and kissed Mary Jo hello; the next morning a staff car arrived, and he kissed her goodbye.

Also in the car was Major Roger Myhrum, a friend from the 4th TFW, Seymour Johnson, who had joined the wing at about the same time in 1963 that Horner had. Myhrum was older than Horner and was in another squadron, the 333d, but they both flew F-105s and got along well. Now they were traveling together on commercial airline tickets to San Francisco, destination classified; they didn’t have a clue about where they were going.