Seaward of the jagged cliffs of Korea's coastline the giant, gray aircraft carriers of the Pacific Fleet are roving relentlessly. During daylight swarms of planes roar off their decks and sweep over the countryside, pounding targets. In the evening dusk they come home to roost, often with a hunk of wing or fuselage missing. As the tired pilots secure and head below, another smaller group is getting ready to go.

The departing airmen are Night Heckler crews. Every day, along about evening, they swing into action.

Flying a radar-eyed version of the AD Skyraider, the hecklers have the job of lousing up the enemy's night shift. Swooping out of the darkness and pouncing on Red concentrations and traffic, they are causing the Commies more headaches and bloodshot eyes than all the Motherland's vodka.

According to pilots that know, night heckler flying is similar to day flying in one respect,both use an airplane. Beyond that the resemblance is hazy. Being a good pilot is only one requirement for a night flyer. Said and experienced pilot: "Flying up Korea's canyons at night calls for pilots with the proper physiological viewpoint. It takes the sort of guy who can race around a darkroom without stubbing his toe."

Night heckler pilots and crewmen in the Pacific Fleet are attached to Composite Squadron 35 (VC-35). For training and operational purposes, they are formed into small VA(N) teams of about 6 officers and around 40 enlisted men.

Before shoving off for combat, the pilots and aircrewmen of each team goes through about 18 weeks of intensive training at five schools. At FAIRBETUPac's Electronic school, they are taught to use the bewildering maze of electronics gear crammed in the fuselage of their AD-4N and AD-4NL models of the Skyraider. Then comes weeks at the AD Mock-up School. This is followed by seven weeks of instruction at the Fleet All Weather Training Unit, located at NAS Barbers Point, Oahu. By then said one pilot "You're about half owl."

A typical morning heckler mission starts for the pilot and crewmen about 0200. If they haven't stayed up all night, a messenger rouses them out of their bunks and they hurry to breakfast. When fully awake they slap on heavy, dark red glasses. It takes about a half hour for their eyes to become effective for night vision, and any unprotected contact with bright light during that time requires the entire adjustment period to be repeated. After breakfast they get into flight gear and assemble in the ready room to be briefed by the Air Intelligence Officer.

The AIO gives them the word on the target areas, location of heavy flak concentrations, and escape and evasion route. An Aerologist talks about the weather. Then they hurry up through red- illuminated passageways to the flight deck. Plane crews have already spotted AD4NLs on deck and warmed up their engines. The pilot of the lead plane climbs into his cockpit and the two aircrewmen enter the rear compartment through side hatches. One crewman serves as radar operator and observer. The other acts as navigator and handles electronic equipment.

The lead AD is guided into position on the port catapult. As the carrier turns into the wind and plunges through dark seas, the pilot watches a glowing wand in the invisible hand of the catapult officer. When he rotates the orange wand over his head, the pilot opens his throttle. Blue flame spits from the exhaust as the powerful engine roars deafeningly. The plane shudders heavily. Suddenly the catapult officer swings a green wand in a downward arc. Wham! The plane is hurdled down 120 feet of deck and out into space. The violent acceleration plasters the crew against their seats.

On a black night there are a few tense moments when the plane leaves the deck, for during that time the pilot cannot tell if he's had the bad luck of getting a "cold shot" (faulty catapult fire) and seconds later his plane will slam into the drink. His eyes dart back and forth among four Instruments, the altimeter, needle and ball, directional gyro, and gyro horizon, as the plane claws for altitude. When safely airborne, he turns the plane toward the Korean shoreline.

Flying in formation, the planes drone across the Korean mainland. then turn north towards the Wonsan area. Unaffectionally called "The Gulch" by heckler pilots. This is one of several areas where the Reds amassed anti-aircraft batteries along roads, railroads and near bridges. Some batteries have been placed near the top of high mountain ranges, and low flying heckler planes occasionally discover they are being shot at from above.

Hunting at night is usually better than in the daytime. The Reds have suffered such heavy losses from marauding day planes they have now camouflage trucks and get them off the roads during daylight. Trains are hidden in tunnels. At night they work feverishly to move supplies. Roads are crawling with truck convoys and blacked out trains puff along the railways. When they hear prowling heckler planes, enemy trucks douse their lights and pull off the highway. Trains either stop or dash madly for the nearest tunnel. In either case it, it's usually too late.

Swinging west of Wonsan, the planes turn along a road---a faintly visible white strip twisting through the canyon between two mountains. As they fly up the road the pilot and crewmen keep their eyes peeled for any sigh of life. Suddenly, as they bank around a bend of the mountain, lights glimmer far into the darkness. A truck convoy. The pilot pushes the nose of the Skyraider downward and rams open the throttle.

Diving down on the target, the Skyraider cuts loose with its four 20MM cannons. Streams of shells streak downward, ripping through the trucks, the incendiaries flashing into orange puffs. A truck catches fire. Tiny figures are seen racing away from the vehicles, trying to hide from the glare of the flare. Swooping in from behind he cuts loose with a light bomb. It explodes just behind the column, gutting the road and blasting the nearest truck.

While the flare was burning the pilots got a good look at the terrain. As is often the case in mountainous Korean country, there is a sheer wall on one side of the road and a steep incline on the other. The overturned truck last in line prevents others from escaping in that direction, and the lead truck is a blazing wreck. The seven middle trucks were trapped, and can be leisurely worked over with machine guns and bombs.

Suddenly a crewman calls to the pilot: "Flash at ten O'clock. Several flashes at 9 O'clock" Seconds later AA bursts begin winking around the plane. The pilot begins turning, twisting, diving and climbing to make a more difficult target. Bucking the anti-aircraft fire, they make more runs on the convoy, finally leaving it a scene of blazing bonfires.

Continuing the hunt, the hecklers began searching for trains. The technique of blasting trains in hiding in seemingly safe tunnels was developed by Heckler VAN team 3 operating from USS Princeton last summer. Flying at tree top level, the pilot points the nose of his plane straight for the tunnel mouth, drops a delayed action bomb, and pulls up 5o feet from the entrance. The momentum of the bomb sends it whistling through the tunnel and smashing into the parked locomotive. During winter months heckler planes spot blacked-out moving locomotives by the reflection of their fire boxes on the snow.

Flying at night among treacherous mountain peaks and tangling with heavy AA fire has resulted in some hair-raising experiences for night heckler crews. Take the time LCDR Albert "Waldo" Waldman, of team SIX was working over some buildings. The blast from some bomb evidently set off other explosives, for a shower of debris came whistling back up at him. One big rock struck and jammed the planes elevators in an "Up" position. The Skyraider stood on its tail and shot right straight upward. Waldman fought his rigid elevator controls, finally thought of rolling the plane just before it reached the stalling point. Using reduced power, he nursed it down on a friendly airfield where the wedged rock was removed.

On another occasion LT Maurice Beaulieu of team FOUR was prowling down in a canyon when an AA burst slammed into his plane, disabling the prop pitch controls. At the time he was about 200 feet from the floor of the canyon and unable to gain any altitude because of the high pitched prop, which couldn't be changed. They were too low to bail out, and a hung napalm tank ruled out a crash landing. Twisting along the floor of the canyon in inky darkness and dodging canyon walls, he finally reached open country. He was forced to fly over Wonsan, bristling with AA, below factory chimney top level. Breathing a sigh of relief on reaching the water. Beaulieu eventually shook loose the napalm and made it back to the carrier.

LTJG Joseph Bachman of Team FOUR had a harrowing experience while strafing carts, and Ground troops near Pyongyang. Diving at high speed with 6,000 pounds of bombs on board suddenly realized he couldn't pull out as quickly as he'd calculated. The speeding plane swept across a rice field inches from the ground before gaining altitude. Back on the carrier they scraped mud and rocks off the engine cowling.

Many pilots are convinced that night attack planes are destined to play an increasingly important role in choking off the flow of Red supplies in Korea.

Dawn is breaking when the heckler planes turn eastward and head out to sea. It's been a good night's work and their bomb racks are empty. As they circle the carrier to land, one yawning crewman turns to the other. "Man I'm sleepy," he sighs and a moment later adds, "I'll bet the Commies are too."