Early Cold War Air Intelligence

 

For a decade after the end of World War II, the issue of Soviet strengths and intentions had been the top item on every Western political agenda, but the available information came almost exclusively from a combination of refugee interviews and oblique photography taken by aircraft flying along the Soviet periphery. While these flights eventually demonstrated that there had not been any threatening buildup of airstrips in locations that would bring the United States within range of a surprise first strike, there remained a significant problem that could only be overcome by flying directly over potential targets deep inside the Soviet Union. At the time, the nuclear deterrent consisted of free-fall atomic weapons that were to be dropped by U.S. Strategic Air Command and British Bomber Command aircraft. However, the effectiveness of the deterrent was entirely dependent on the weapons being delivered to their targets accurately, and the bombardiers’ aiming systems required radar ground-mapping of every site. This procedure demanded advance reconnaissance of each target, which in turn necessitated a vertical radar survey that could only be undertaken by long incursions into hostile air space. Thus, during the Cold War there were a variety of reasons for the many reconnaissance flights flown into Eastern Bloc airspace. There was the need to locate Warsaw Pact radar stations and air defense systems, then a requirement to map the Soviet Union and survey potential targets, and finally the long-term commitment to monitoring hostile communications channels as an early-warning precaution against a surprise first strike.

During the uneasy postwar period, American and British aircraft routinely penetrated the Soviet Bloc, and Red Air Force Tupolev-95 Bears constantly tested the North Atlantic Treaty Organization’s air defenses. These risky provocations continued throughout the Cold War and between 1950 and 1970, 252 American aircrew were shot down by Soviet fighters. But as reliance on technical intelligence sources grew, and on signals in particular, the use of airborne platforms to intercept telemetry and other communications increased, especially in those parts of the world where safe land sites were unavailable. Although the National Security Agency established eavesdropping facilities in friendly countries such as Turkey, Japan, and Germany and developed relationships with the British and Norwegians, the U.S. Air Force was often required to fill the gaps when, for instance, the sites at Kagnew, Eritrea, and the three in Iran had to be evacuated because of changes in the local regime. In the absence of convenient ground sites in strategic locations, aircraft were deployed to intercept the target traffic.

The issue of Soviet strategic bombers and missiles was equally crucial, and until the U-2 began regular overflights of Red Air Force bases, the science of judging the Kremlin’s military capability became almost as arcane as the art of predicting the Politburo’s decisions. Soviet secrecy and the repressive nature of the regime effectively prevented use of the “Mark I Eyeball” to study production figures, accumulate published statistics, monitor factory output, watch airbases, or photograph naval installations. Indeed, in the absence of even Soviet roadmaps, the postwar intelligence analysts were obliged to rely on ancient prerevolutionary maps of Russia and aerial photographs taken by the Luftwaffe. Yet the need to find the submarines, aircraft, nuclear facilities, railway lines, test sites and training areas became increasingly important, and it was not until the U-2 imagery became available that analysts could grasp the scale of Nikita Khrushchev’s breathtakingly ambitious bluff, which culminated in the Cuban missile crisis. In November 1959, he had boasted that a single factory had produced 250 hydrogen warheads over the previous 12 months. It had seemed incredible that any responsible leader would blatantly lie about such an important issue yet the frequent claim that a “missile gap” had left the United States vulnerable to a more powerful potential enemy had a significant influence on American domestic politics, especially during the presidential campaign won by John F. Kennedy.

The mystery of the Kremlin’s true strength would eventually be solved by the U-2 and then by the deployment of satellites, but Khrushchev’s ingenious remedy to the relative weakness of his atomic arsenal was simply to move his short-range weapons closer to their target, and the result was the Cuban missile crisis, the catalyst for which was the discovery by U.S. air intelligence of his scheme. Although the resulting naval blockade of Cuba was enforced by warships, the whole confrontation was essentially about aircraft, with Soviet missiles detected by American aircraft. Indeed, the only fatality of the entire incident was a U.S. Air Force pilot, Major Rudolph Anderson, whose U-2 spy plane was shot down by a Soviet SA-2. 

http://www.fas.org/nuke/guide/russia/airdef/v-75.htm

Many of the other conflicts fought during the Cold War, often proxy battles in which the adversaries were equipped by the superpowers, served to update intelligence analysts on the relative potency of air power. Following the invasion of South Korea, Soviet aircraft and pilots skillfully outmaneuvered and outgunned their U.S. counterparts until new equipment and tactics could be deployed in the skies over the peninsula. Initially, the MiG-15, powered with a reverse-engineered Rolls-Royce jet engine, proved invincible, at least until the F-86 Sabre evened the balance. This was to be the last time American fighter jocks would ever engage the Soviets in sustained aerial dogfights, leaving future confrontations to surrogates, apart from some suspected incidents over North Vietnam. In that war, overwhelming and permanent air superiority proved no substitute for political support at home and Vietnamese tactics in an environment that favored the insurgents and limited the effectiveness of comprehensive air cover.

Most future tests of relative equipment, personnel, and avionics would occur in simulated environments over secret airbases in the western United States or in real conditions, with Israelis pitted against Syrian, Egyptian, Jordanian, and Iraqi aircrews. For decades, the Middle East provided a highly realistic scenario for American manufacturers to bench test new jets and electronic countermeasures against Eastern Bloc interceptors and ground defenses. Captured Warsaw Pact military equipment, ranging from an entire Egyptian radar station to a defecting Iraqi MiG Fishbed, ended up in American laboratories, so all their most secret components could be examined and the appropriate countermeasures devised. While politicians picked over the consequences of 1967’s Six Day War and the participants on both sides reexamined the strategic lessons, the air intelligence analysts were assessing the strengths and weaknesses of the opposing forces, confident that the outcome of the next clash again would be decided in the air.

Angola: MPLA, FNLA, UNITA, and the War of Liberation, 1961-1974

Portuguese troops on patrol in Angola

In many respects, Angolan history forms part of the history of southern Africa. While most states in the rest of Africa became independent, in many southern African countries a reverse trend was visible: white rule became more entrenched. South Africa’s apartheid system, Rhodesia’s settler government, and Portuguese investments to expand their administrative and military system in the colonies were all aimed to prevent African independence. To interpret Angola’s past in a southern African context, however, runs the risk of promoting reasoning from within a colonial framework. For the Angolan nationalist parties involved, relations within the central African context may have been just as important. Apart from contact with leaders from nations such as Tanzania, North African states, and other Portuguese-speaking colonies, the ties with independent Congo, Zaïre, and Zambia were crucial for the Angolan nationalist movements. These regional aspects can hardly be separated from the wider international scene. This was the age of the Cold War: the parties involved all had their own channels of support, such as China, the Soviet Union, or the United States. The complex linkages between local, regional, and international spheres set the stage for later developments after Angolan independence in 1975.

Many names from different epochs have been associated with the Angolan resistance against colonialism, such as Queen Njinga, who fought the Portuguese in the seventeenth century, Chief Mandume, who opposed colonial conquest at the beginning of the twentieth century, and the prophet António Mariano, who led Maria’s War in January 1961.

The Luanda rising of February 1961 is generally taken as the beginning of the Angolan war of liberation. It started with Africans making an abortive attempt to release political prisoners, whereupon white immigrants entered the Luandan slums and engaged in a killing spree that left an unknown number of mostly educated Africans dead. A movement called MPLA (Popular Movement for the Liberation of Angola), which had been founded in 1956, was linked with the rising. Its leadership mostly consisted of Luandan assimilados, who, despite a Portuguese upbringing, were eager to explore their African background. Their poetry and protest, both with Marxist and négritude overtones, soon aroused the suspicion of the Portuguese police and many of them were detained, executed, or forced into exile. Some MPLA supporters were involved in the Luanda rising, but many MPLA leaders were in exile trying to create internal cohesion and to look for international support, neither of which proved an easy task.

Just a month after the Luanda rising, eruptions of violence occurred in the north of Angola, where immigrant plantation ownership led to the impoverishment of local entrepreneurs. Soon the coffee plantations became the scene of widespread murder and mutilation, with atrocities committed by all sides involved. Many people from the region fled to neighboring Zaïre, where some joined the FNLA (National Front for the Liberation of Angola). This movement was led largely by Baptists from the Angolan Kongo region, of whom Holden Roberto became the most prominent. The leadership stood close to the Kongo royalty, but concerns of local capitalist trade were equally important for its otherwise little-developed program. Soon relations between FNLA and MPLA became marked by fierce competition and fighting. While Holden Roberto managed to secure Zairian support and international recognition, the MPLA did not. In addition, the factions in the MPLA leadership faced sharp opposition from Viriato da Cruz and others against Agostinho Neto, the MPLA president. Internal strife was, however, not confined to the MPLA: in 1964 Jonas Savimbi left the Angolan government, which had been created in Kinshasa by Holden Roberto. Two years later he formed his own movement: the National Union for the Total Independence of Angola (UNITA).

Zambian independence changed the scene. After 1966 both UNITA and MPLA started guerrilla activities in the sparsely populated plains of eastern Angola neighboring Zambia. Portuguese retaliation was harsh, the border between Zambia and Angola was cleared, most of the inhabitants were herded into wired camps, and helicopters dropped bombs on both guerrillas and any remaining villagers. Cooperating with South African forces, the Portuguese managed to hold the towns, while the guerrilla movements held the countryside. With few strategic targets to be conquered or lost, the war became what Basil Davidson has called “a war for people” (1972). Using methods ranging from ideological explanation and material attraction to threat and abduction, the fighting parties tried to control as many civilians as they could.

The MPLA and UNITA never managed to face the Portuguese forces with a common front. To the contrary, the Portuguese were able to employ their mutual animosity to check guerrilla activities. None of the parties tolerated the presence of another group in its vicinity, and there is proof that during the final years of the war UNITA cooperated with the Portuguese to oust its rival. Furthermore, internal tensions mounted. In the MPLA the strained relations between learned political leaders from Luanda and local army leaders with little education proved too difficult a problem to overcome. A second internal crisis ensued: in 1973 both the “Active Revolt” and the “Eastern Revolt” nearly caused a split. The latter movement was led by chief commander of the eastern forces, Daniel Chipenda, who later assembled his followers, broke away from MPLA, and formed a southern branch of the FNLA.

In the meantime, the northern branch of the FNLA continued to gather support from African coffee planters who wished to safeguard their interests against white plantation holders. Increasing reliance on Western support and the capitalist ethos of FNLA diminished its revolutionary outlook. This did not prevent guerrilla actions, and in the northern region the FNLA was rather successful in this respect. With its regional base and interests, however, the FNLA only managed to expand to other areas on a limited scale. Furthermore competition with groups ready to negotiate with the Portuguese, a mutiny against the leadership suppressed with the aid of the Zairian government, and rivalry with MPLA did much to damage the party. Only with Zairian support the FNLA was able to remain a political and military force worth mentioning. In the oil-rich Cabinda enclave FNLA and MPLA interests clashed with FLEC (Cabindan Liberation Front), which sought Cabindan independence, both from Portugal and Angola. In this region fighting diminished.

In the east and south the war initiative shifted from this fighting party to that. On the whole the war slowly expanded and at times reached eastern Malange and the central highlands. Especially for UNITA, whose leadership mainly originated from the central highlands this was an important development. UNITA had started out with limited Chinese support, but on the whole had a far less developed structure outside Angola than FNLA and MPLA. Its leadership, in contrast to the other nationalist groups, largely operated from within Angola, especially after Savimbi had been expelled from Zambia in 1967. Due to its external contacts, MPLA troops were on the whole somewhat better armed and better trained than UNITA soldiers. Yet, they also suffered from a lack of supplies and their fragmented leadership was unable to provide the necessary coordination.

Attempts to unite the Angolan nationalist movements, sometimes initiated by the leaders of the movements themselves, sometimes led by African heads of state or the OAU, never succeeded: the Angolan liberation movement remained hopelessly divided. Yet despite the cleavages in the nationalist movement and Portuguese efforts to build up a decisive war machinery, the Portuguese forces were unable to wipe out the nationalist groups. Portugal spent nearly half of its annual budget on the war in the colonies, in 1969 alone it sent some 150,000 troops to Africa and lost an average of 100 soldiers and more than 200 civilians annually in Angola. When war-worn Portuguese soldiers and their commanders staged a coup in Lisbon in 1974, a new epoch in Angolan history started. The first war of liberation had come to an end; soon another would be fought. Hitherto the period between 1961 and 1974 has been studied largely in terms of the discussions on nationalism and liberation. This valid approach may be widened by detailing other aspects of the war, such as the interactions between local, regional, and international support networks, witchcraft accusations, magic and political power, the relations with the churches, mobility, containment and concepts of space, questions of morality, agency and gender. Although the available sources may not provide answers to all questions, many questions still remain to be asked.

Further Reading Barnett, Don, and Roy Harvey. The Revolution in Angola: MPLA, Life Histories and Documents. Indianapolis, IN,: Bobbs-Merrill, 1972. Birmingham, David. Frontline Nationalism in Angola and Mozambique. London: James Currey, and Trenton NJ: Africa World Press, 1992. Davidson, Basil. In the Eye of the Storm. Angola’s People. London: Longman, 1972. Henderson, Lawrence W. Angola. Five Centuries of Conflict. Ithaca, NY, London: Cornell University Press, 1979. Marcum, John A. The Angolan Revolution: Vol. 1: The Anatomy of an Explosion (1950–1962), Cambridge, MA, London: MIT Press, 1969. Marcum, John A. The Angolan Revolution. Vol. 2: Exile Politics and Guerrilla Warfare (1962–1976), Cambridge, MA, London: MIT Press, 1978.

SOVIET FIGHTER ACES IN KOREA

Russian MiG-15 Aces in Korea, from left to right: Aleksandr P. Smorchkov (8 kills), Nikolai Ivanovich Ivanov (6), Semen Alexeievich Fedorets (8), Yevgeni G. Pepelyayev (19) and Sergei Makarovich Kramarenko (13).

On Sunday, June 25, 1950, the North Korean Peoples Army suddenly launched its invasion of South Korea by crossing the 38th Parallel. Spearheaded by T-34/85 tanks and supported by swarms of 11- 10 Shturmovik ground-attack aircraft, the offensive rapidly pushed South Korean and UN troops back.

USAF F-80s, F-5 1 s, F-82s, and B-26s were quickly in the fray, wreaking successful havoc on Communist supply lines, and some big scores were built up against obsolescent Russian- built piston-engined aircraft; as the tide of war was beginning to turn and the North Korean advance slowed down to a halt, the advent of the Mikoyan-Guryevich MiG-15 mid-wing monoplane jets came to the Allies as one of the nastiest surprises of the war.

On November 1, 1950, UN pilots submitted first sighting reports of MiG- 15s in Korean colors and, although 12 days later the first victory was reported, it soon became very obvious that the F-80s, F-84s, and Meteors had at a stroke become obsolete. The MiGs could even outclimb the F-86s that entered combat in December, 1950, and enjoying an untouchable ceiling of 15,200 meters, they could dive down on their prey and climb back up to a safe position after striking with relative impunity. From their experience Russian pilots determined that the MiG's main strength though lay in its enormous firepower, offered by one N-37 37mm cannon and two NS-23KM 23 mm cannon. A two-second burst would pour a devastating 14 kilograms of lead into the enemy plane, tearing it to pieces, while the MiG could take a lot of punishment from the Sabres' .50 caliber guns thanks to its heavier armor protection.

United States military authorities have always felt certain that skilled Soviet airmen fought in Korea. The actual Soviet involvement has long been due to continuous Soviet attempts to hide their participation at all. Glasnost and Perestrojka as late as 1993 have laid Open fragments of Russian files, allow allowing to make a fairer comparison of the history of aerial warfare. Although there are many Russian participants who are still reluctant to talk freely about their experiences, there is no more denying that the combatants in Korea in terms of technical and psychological quality were actually more evenly matched, and that UN estimates of their air-to-air losses were grossly underestimated.

The VVS posted its 64 IAK on secret mission to Korea primarily tasked with blunting the Allied air offensive against the north. It was comprised of some elite fighter divisions which were rotated in and out after six to twelve months of combat. Commanding officer at its peak was General Major G.A. Lobov, late of the crack 7 GIAD of World War I1 fame with I9 air victories to his credit, who was destined to add four more kills to his already distinguished record in the ferocious air battles fought over Korea. In 1952 the 64 IAK commanded three fighter air divisions along with two antiaircraft divisions (85mm and 57mm guns), having a total of 26,000 men in strength. Recent information from Russia reveals that a total of 10 fighter divisions were committed to action in Korea at one time or another. The following units have been traced so far:

32 IAD

913 IAP

151 IAD

29 GIAP

216 IAD

518 IAP

303 IAD

18 GIAP,

523 IAP,

17 IAP

304 IAD

324 IAD

176 GIAP,

196 IAP

As the Soviet Air Force was undergoing a complete transformation in modern equipment, units were deployed not uniformly prepared, some containing a relative proportion of pilots with an all too brief training period on jets; the tough veterans of the Patriotic War, however, formed the bulk and guts of the Soviet fighter force in Korea. They devised tactics under combat conditions that put the good qualities of the MiG to best advantage. In fact, the aircraft itself was confidence-inspiring, as it proved a clear ascendancy in many respects over the best enemy fighter, the F-86.

For fear of Soviet airmen falling into enemy hands, orders were given that prohibited pilots from penetrating a restricted area 100 kilometers wide north of the 38th Parallel, and from flying over coastal areas with the risk of imminent enemy naval vessels. Some Russians said that American pilots were quick to make good use of these restrictions when things were beginning to become too rough, running for the safety of these areas.

One of the first divisions to become operational was the 324 IAD under the high caliber leadership of the legendary Ivan Kozhedub, the Allied ace of aces of World War I1 with 62 kills. The unit had distinguished itself against the Luftwaffe during the so-called Svir-Petrozavodsk campaign (June-August, 1944) and was now tasked with neutralizing the Allied bombing campaign against North Korea, producing six more Heroes of the Soviet Union, the highest Soviet military distinction; whereas Kozhedub did not see any combat in Korea, his deputy, Vitalij Ivanovich Popkov, did. Popkov, a brilliant pilot and able tactician with 41 air victories against the Luftwaffe, went off whenever the opportunity arose, reporting the destruction of three more enemy planes in the skies above Korea.

On September 19, 1950, well before the first MiG-sightings were reported by the Allies, Podpolkovnik Aleksandr Karasyov, another notable fighter ace of World War 11 with 30 kills, again proved his attributes by flaming three F-84 Thunderjets in quick succession. On December 24 Kapitan Stepan Naumenko of the crack 29 GIAP had the distinction of becoming the first Soviet fighter ace in Korea by scoring his 5th air victory.

Aggressive, flying a formidable fighting machine and almost always enjoying the advantage of height, the Russians in time enjoyed moments of glory in their principal function of stopping the B-29s from systematically bombing North Korean industries, airfields, and bridges. On April 12, 195 1, 48 B-29s were ordered off to strike the railroad bridges at Andong and Sinuiju, but 36 MiGs rose to engage them and claimed to have knocked down nine heavies, while the Americans admitted the loss of three of their number with seven more sustaining damage. On May 20 Starshij Lejtenant Fyodor Shabanov became the first fighter pilot in history to destroy five jets in air combat when he forced down an F-86 to bring his tally to six - five against jets - tying him with the American Jim Jabara of the 335th FIS, who, by coincidence, racked up his fifth and sixth victories that same day.

The MiGs appeared in increasing numbers as the war wore on, with poorly trained Chinese and North Korean units entering the fray, only to be whittled down by the battle-hardened Sabre pilots. The Allied fighters, though, again fared badly engaging Soviet MiGs on September 10, when the 64 IAK submitted claims for five F-86s, five F-84s, and one each F-80 and Gloster Meteor, all without loss; Kapitan G.I. Ges, an ace with five kills in World War 11, accounted for the Meteor. Two weeks later, on September 26, Starshij Lejtenant N.V. Sutyagin claimed another of these to raise his bag to nine as the 303 and 324 IADs were claiming a total of four F-86s, three F-84s, and two Meteors, again without loss. In fact, the Soviet fighter elite in Korea considered the Americans less aggressive and flexible when met on equal terms, and lagging behind in fighting morale considering them unmotivated, fighting without cause.

The B-29s took another terrible battering on October 23. This time the MiGs were really ready. 56 fighters were put into the air during the raid, 12 of which were kept in reserve to intercept any bombers that might break through. 44 relentlessly attacked the bombers, 12 of these being claimed destroyed despite an escort of 55 F-84s, four of the Thunderjets also being knocked down. One MiG fell victim to the screening force of 34 F-86s over North Korean territory. As is so often the case, accounts from the opposing sides vary, and the exact figures are a matter of dispute. Whatever the truth, the B-29s were relegated to night raids following their heavy losses.

The hopelessly inferior Meteors were again meat on the table on December 1, 195 1, when the glorious 176 GTAP got into its last scrap with the Australians, coming away with nine kills. Kapitan S.M. Krarnarenko was high-scorer that day with a double, while singles were turned in by Podpolkovnik S.F. Vishnyakov, Major S.P. Subbotin, Kapitan A.F. Vasko, who was a 15-victory in World War 11, Starshij Lejtenant F.A. Zubakin, P.S. Milaushkin, A.F. Golovachyov, and 1.N.Gulyj.

The number one jet ace of all time is squadron leader Kapitan Nikolaj Sutyagin. He went to war as a deputy squadron leader with the 17 IAP and claimed his first success on June 19, 195 1. Three days later he was able to bring his tally to three with two F-86s. He continued to chalk up victories on a regular basis and excelled in December, 195 1, reporting the destruction of five enemy planes in the air. He finished with a confirmed total of 22 kills during 149 sorties, his score running as follows: 15 F-86s, three F-84s, two F- 80s, and two Meteors.

The runner-up was the highly talented commander of the 196 IAP, Polkovnik Yevgenij Pepelyaev, whose score is quoted by some sources as 23, although this is considered a combined total of his personal victories and shares. Pepelyaev required only 108 sorties to amass his impressive score of 19 kills, all of which were achieved against jets: 14 Sabres, two F-84s, one F-94, and one F-80. He also made a distinguished record as leader of the regiment, which finished the conflict as one of the top-scorers with 100 air victories against 24 aircraft and five pilots lost to enemy action during the period of April, 195 1 to February, 1952. Among stellar performers in Korea was Major Dmitrij Oskin, who scored a string of eight victories in 23 days of combat between October-December, 1951 and wound up as an ace with 15 confirmed kills. Major S.A. Bakhayev is credited with 11 victories in Korea and one RB-29 intruder during the cold war period on December 29, 1950, while serving with the 523 IAP.

The Korean War produced 51 Russian fighter aces scoring five or more confirmed air victories; numerous other pilots made acedom by combining their World War II bag with credits in Korea. The 303 IAD boasted a total of 12 Heroes of the Soviet Union in MiG- 15s.

The war ended on July 27, 1953. Total losses are a matter of dispute. Material disclosed by the VVS General Staff in 1993 indicates that the 64 IAK was credited with downing 1,106 enemy aircraft, 650 of which were F-86s, in 1,872 aerial en-counters. Overall losses (conceivably not including missing in action or non-operational causes) were 335 planes and 120 pilots. Some Soviet sources quote a final score (not including Chinese and Korean victories) of some 1,300 for the loss of 345 MiGs. The Chinese and Korean air forces claimed a combined total of 231 victories at the cost of 271 of their number; the Americans reported the destruction of 954 aircraft, 827 of which were MiGs (or 893 resp. 841 as suggested by other sources), admitting the loss of 78 Sabres, 14 F-80s, and 18 F- 84s in air-to-air combat and 971 losses overall, mostly to groundfire and non-operational causes.

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