My Last F-105 Mission in Vietnam
- Christina DeSantis
- Dec 30, 2025
- 3 min read
On the final mission of a combat tour, most pilots are looking for a "quiet" flight to clear the way for the journey home. For then-Major James Rhodes, his last sortie over North Vietnam was anything but quiet. What began as a desperate rescue mission to protect his downed wingman in the Gulf of Tonkin turned into a frantic battle against enemy patrol boats—a mission punctuated by a split-second recovery that nearly sent his F-105 into the sea. Years later, a chance encounter with a television program revealed that his narrowest escape had been captured by a news camera, immortalizing a moment he would rather forget, but one that perfectly encapsulates the thin line between a successful mission and disaster.
My Last F-105 Mission in Vietnam
By Brigadier General James Rhodes, USAF (Ret.) USAFA Class of 1959, was a decorated combat aviator, test pilot, and member of the Academy’s first graduating class.

My most vivid memory of the war was my final mission in the F-105. This account was originally published in the second volume of stories from the "River Rats"—the Red River Valley Fighter Pilots Association.
In essence, my wingman was on fire. We were over the Gulf of Tonkin off the coast of North Vietnam. His entire airplane was engulfed in flames, and he was forced to eject. I knew there was an SA-16 amphibian aircraft—what we called the "Duckbutt"—patrolling the area. The rescue crew saw the F-105 hit the water and immediately began their approach.
My element leader remained at a high altitude because he knew his gun was malfunctioning. I circled my wingman as he descended in his parachute. As soon as he hit the water, a patrol boat rounded the nearest island. It wasn’t a small PT boat like those from World War II; it was more like a Coast Guard cutter.
It was a very hazy day, and the Gulf of Tonkin was incredibly calm. The horizon was so flat that I couldn’t distinguish the interface between the air and the water. I also knew I had taken a significant hit to the rear of my aircraft, though I had no warning lights on my panel.
I banked into a wide circle and, using my Gatling gun, I sank that boat in a single pass. I simply aimed the pipper at the waterline and raked the fire right up through the bridge. The boat went down.
As the SA-16 landed in the water and began taxiing toward my wingman, a second patrol boat appeared. I didn't know how many rounds I had left in my gun, but I circled back and sank that patrol boat too. However, I made the classic mistake of "target fixating"—watching my bullets hit. I pulled up with everything I had and barely cleared the surface of the Gulf, my exhaust leaving a wake in the water.
When I eventually returned home, I was watching Walter Cronkite’s The Twentieth Century program. Lo and behold, a CBS cameraman had been on board that SA-16 rescue plane. He had captured footage of me sinking the patrol boat, showing my F-105 with its nose up, throwing a massive "rooster-tail" of spray off the Gulf of Tonkin. I was scared when it happened, but I was even more scared when I saw it on film. I have never asked CBS for a copy; I don’t care to look at it again.
That was my last flight in North Vietnam. The very next day, we headed home to Wichita, Kansas.
Author Bio
Brigadier General James M. Rhodes Jr., USAF (Ret.), Class of 1959, was a decorated combat aviator, test pilot, and member of the Academy’s first graduating class. A command pilot with more than 4,000 flying hours and over 350 combat missions, he flew the F‑100, F‑105, A‑37, and the rocket‑powered NF‑104A, reaching record altitudes as part of early aerospace research. His career spanned key leadership roles across Europe, Southeast Asia, the Pentagon, NORAD’s Cheyenne Mountain Complex, and the Southeast Air Defense Sector. General Rhodes’ service reflects the courage, innovation, and character that helped shape the legacy of the Class of 1959.

The "Duckbutt" (Grumman SA-16 Albatross) The SA-16 was a twin-engine amphibious flying boat used extensively by the Air Force, Navy, and Coast Guard. In Vietnam, these "Duckbutts" were the unsung heroes of Combat Search and Rescue (CSAR), often landing in hostile waters to retrieve downed pilots under enemy fire.The Red River Valley Fighter Pilots Association Known as the "River Rats," this organization was formed in 1967 by pilots flying missions over the highly defended "Route Pack 6" in North Vietnam. Today, it stands as a legacy organization dedicated to supporting the families of fallen aviators and preserving the history of air combat.


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