On April 15, 1969, the 57th birthday of dictator Kim Il-So'ng, North Korean MiGs shot down a U.S. Navy EC-121 reconnaissance aircraft flying over international waters, killing all 31 American service members aboard.

The EC-121 Shootdown Incident remains the largest single loss of U.S. aircrew lives during the entire Cold War era.

This article is dedicated to the memory of the crew and their sacrifice.

Personal Prologue

In early 1969, I was a young analyst with the U.S. Army Security Agency, just beginning what would be my final assignment of my four-year enlistment. Stationed at Field Station Hakata, located near the city of Fukuoka, Japan, I felt like I was living a dream. After spending 15 long months on the isolated island of Shemya at the end of the Aleutian chain in Alaska, the vibrant streets and rich culture of Japan were an intoxicating change of pace. From the moment I stepped off the plane, I was captivated by the unique sights, sounds, and smells of my new surroundings.

One night, as I explored the streets of Saitozaki, the small town just outside the gates of the base, I crossed paths with a weathered and kind-looking man. Introducing himself as "Snuffy Smith," he struck me as the embodiment of the seasoned military veteran. Snuffy, as I later learned, was Chief Cryptologic Technician Richard Earl Smith, a longtime member of the U.S. Naval Security Group. He had spent over two decades in service and was only weeks away from retirement.

Sensing my excitement and inexperience, Snuffy took me under his wing that evening. He shared practical advice about life in Japan and spoke with an easy kindness. During our conversation, he mentioned that he was heading to Atsugi the next day for what he called “one last routine mission. He hadn’t been scheduled to go out on a flight so close to his retirement, but he volunteered when another crewmember had to drop out.

When we parted that evening, I wished him well, never imagining it would be the last time I’d ever see him.

The next morning, Field Station Hakata was in turmoil. As I arrived at work, the usually steady hum of the office had transformed into the sharp focus of crisis mode.

“What’s going on?” I asked a colleague.

“Haven’t you heard?” they replied, their tone grim.

“No, what happened?”

“The EC-121 out of Atsugi was shot down by the NORKs.”

“What?” My stomach dropped as I remembered Snuffy was on the ill-fated plane. “Were there any survivors?”

“No one knows yet,” came the somber reply.

I would later learn that no one aboard the EC-121 survived the attack. The kind man who had taken the time to welcome me to Japan and share his wisdom was gone—lost to an act of senseless aggression.

For years, whenever I talked about this story, it was clear that most younger people have never even heard about it. That is why I felt compelled to write this story.

Routine Mission Turned Tragedy

April 15, 1969, began like any other day at NAS Atsugi. The tri-tailed WV/EC-121M sat ready on the tarmac as its crew of 31 men prepared for what should have been an uneventful intelligence-gathering mission along the Asian coast. For the men aboard Deep Sea 129, this was expected to be a routine operation. Over 200 similar missions had been flown in the first quarter of 1969 without incident.

The plane was carrying more crew members than usual, as the mission was being used as an opportunity to allow seasoned veterans to train their replacements. By 0658, the big bird was lumbering down the runway and lifting of into the early morning skies. skies. Settling into the rhythm of their normal tasks, the crew prepared for the three-hour journey to their operational zone of the coast of North Korea.

Flying under the call sign Deep Sea 129, the EC-121 was on a Beggar Shadow signal intelligence (SIGINT) mission for Fleet Air Reconnaissance Squadron One (VQ-1). These flights were designed to track radar emissions and communications as they orbited 150 miles offshore from North Korea, carefully keeping at least 50 nautical miles from the coast to avoid infringing on territorial airspace.

At 1005 hours, as the plane reached its operational zone, it was picked up by Soviet radar, its presence noted but unremarkable.

By 1035 hours, Deep Sea 129 was orbiting over the Sea of Japan. U.S. monitors detected signs of minor North Korean activity, which was deemed non-hostile.

By 1234 hours, however, the tenor of the situation became more tense. U.S. monitoring stations detected the takeoff of two North Korean MiG-17 fighters from an airbase near Wonsan. Though this was likely in response to the presence of Deep Sea 129, the fighters' intentions remained unclear. The mission continued, its crew busy at their stations, unaware of the storm brewing around them.

The Attack

At 1300 hours, Deep Sea 129’s crew calmly sent their status report: operations normal.

By 1345 hours, U.S. radar operators were watching in growing alarm as two North Korean MiGs closed in on the EC-121.

At 1347 hours, one of the MiGs launched an air-to-air missile, striking the unarmed EC-121, sending it plummeting into the frigid waters of the Sea of Japan and killing all 31 aboard.

Immediate Reactions

As news of the shootdown reached the United States, chaos erupted. Monitoring stations that had tracked the final moments of Deep Sea 129 were gripped with horror as the blips on their radar screens converged and disappeared. The loss was devastating, and the silence that followed was deafening.

At 1444 hours, a CRITIC message—reserved for the most urgent national security crises—reached the White House. Yet it would be several agonizing hours before President Richard Nixon was fully briefed. Meanwhile, North Korean state radio brazenly celebrated the attack, declaring it a "brilliant battle success" and accusing the U.S. aircraft of intruding into their airspace—a claim emphatically denied by U.S. officials.

The incident thrust Nixon and his national security team into a high-stakes dilemma. An aggressive response risked escalating tensions not just with North Korea, but with their powerful neighbors, the Soviet Union and China. The administration ultimately chose a measured approach, issuing diplomatic protests and deploying a naval demonstration in the Sea of Japan.

For many, this response felt woefully insufficient. Critics questioned why North Korea was allowed to act with such impunity, citing a disturbing pattern of provocations, including the brazen seizure of the USS Pueblo in 1968.

Remembering the Fallen

The men aboard Deep Sea 129 were more than names on a list. They were sons, brothers, husbands, and fathers—men who had dedicated their lives to the unsung work of securing national security. Their sacrifice demands remembrance—not just as a Cold War tragedy but as a testament to the cost of service. May they rest in peace.

CREW OF DEEP SEA 129

• LCDR James H Overstreet, USN – Pilot

• LT Peter Philip Perrottey, USN – Copilot

• LTJG Joseph Richard Ribar, USN - Copilot

• ADR1 Ballard F. Conners, USN – Flight Engineer

• ADRC Marshal H McNamara, USN9 – Flight Engineer

• LTJG Norman Elbert Wilkerson, USN – Navigator

• LTJG Robert J Sykora, USN – Navigator

• AMS3 Richard Thomas Prindle, USN – Plane Captain

• ATR2 Dennis J Horrigan, USN – EW Operator

• LT John H Singer, USN – Senior Evaluator

• LT John N Dzema, USN – Evaluator

• ATN2 Richard Henery Kincaid, USN – Crew Leader

• AT1 James Leroy Roach, USN – Radar Operator

• AT1 Bernie Joel Colgin, USN – Airborne Electronics Supervisor

• ADR2 Louis Francis Balderman, USN – Mechanic

• ATR2 Timothy Harlan McNeil, USN – Radar Operator

• AT1 Stephen Curtis Chartier, USN – EW Operator

• CTR3 John Alexander Miller III, USN – Manual Morse Collection Operator

• CTO2 Steven Joseph Tesmer, USN – Secure Teletype Communicator

• CTR3 Gary Ray Du Charme, USN – Manual Morse Collection Operator

• AEC LaVerne Albert Greiner, USN – Flight Engineer

• CTI1 John Howard Potts, USN – Korean Linguist

• LTJG Joseph Richard Ribar, USN - Copilot

• SSGT Hugh M. Lynch, USMC – Korean and Russian Linguist

• CTIC Frederick Arthur Randall, USN – Russian Linguist and Manual Morse Operator

• ATN3 Gene Kenneth Graham, USN – Radar Operator

• LT Dennis Baird Gleason, USN – Evaluator

• ATN3 David Monroe Willis, USN – Radio Operator

• LT Robert F Taylor, USN – Communication Evaluator

• CTI3 Philip D. Sundby, USN – Korean Linguist

• AT1 Richard E Sweeney, USN – EW Operator

• CTIC Richard Earl "Snuffy" Smith, USN – Linguist