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“I learned later that the Soviets launched at least five fighters to intercept my flight. Two planes took off initially. The lead plane aborted takeoff ran off the runway and exploded. The wingman went through lead’s flames and then bailed out. Two more airplanes scrambled and were refueled in the air. Those airplanes got lost or collided. The pilots bailed out. A fifth plane scrambled but couldn’t find the tanker. He was lost and never found to this day,” Carmine Vito, the only U-2 pilot to fly over Moscow

The first flight of the original U-2A, which Kelly Johnson and the Lockheed Skunk Works built with total secrecy, took place in August 1955. The president and other U.S. decision-makers received crucial intelligence about Soviet military capacity during the first flights over the Soviet Union in the late 1950s. Its employment was kept a secret until Francis Gary Powers’s U-2 was shot down by a surface-to-air missile on May 1, 1960, when it was conducting a reconnaissance trip over Soviet territory.

The only U-2 pilot to fly directly over Moscow was Carmine Vito, one of the original six pilots trained to operate the high-altitude reconnaissance aircraft for the CIA. His journey, which the pilots referred to as a “hot flight,” was the third operational flight into a possibly hostile country, as explained by Eric Hehs in his article Carmine Vito: U-2 Pilot for Code One Magazine. On June 20, 1956, Carl Overstreet made the first U-2 flight of its kind. East Germany and Poland were included in the mission.

After that, on July 4, Hervy Stockman flew over Soviet territory, traveling as far north as Leningrad to photograph naval shipyards and then west to the Baltic States to photograph bases for jet bombers. Marty Knutson, Glen Dunaway, and Jake Kratt piloted the fourth, fifth, and sixth missions. All were successful.

“The Russians launched planes to intercept Overstreet on the first flight,” notes Vito. “But they couldn’t reach him.” Soviet radar also picked up Stockman’s flight. Many MiG fighters sprang into action to intercept him as well. The intercepts, like earlier flights, were unsuccessful. Soviet fighters were unable to get close to the necessary height to bring the soaring U-2 down.

When the orders to fly came, Vito’s selection for the Moscow mission was more a result of chance than of planning. Twelve hours before takeoff, headquarters would generally send an alarm message to the Wiesbaden U-2 detachment. Normally, the message arrived before 5:00 p.m. The ground staff and pilots prepared for the flight throughout those twelve hours. The aircraft, engine, and cameras underwent ground inspections by teams from Lockheed, Pratt & Whitney, and Kodak. To combat the effects of rapid decompression, pilots put on their specialized partial pressure suits and breathed pure oxygen (the bends). Before being granted the all-clear to take off, U-2 pilots had to spend at least two hours “on the hose” to expel nitrogen from their blood.

“Without a go signal from headquarters, everyone headed for the club after five that evening,” explains Vito. “On that particular weekend, the 4th of July, most everyone was celebrating. When the late go came down from headquarters, I was the only one who had had only one drink. So, even though our order of mission flights had been predetermined by drawing straws, I was selected for the mission.”

After recalling this specific U-2 mission for 46 years, Vito is unsure if he is speaking from true memories or memories of earlier descriptions. Whatever the case, he recalls the fireworks display that kept him up that night and the required steak and egg meal the next morning. “They always fed us steak and eggs before a flight,” he says. “I didn’t want steak and eggs at two in the morning, but they were on the checklist. So I had to eat.”

Vito went through Krakow, Poland, before continuing to Brest and Baranovici in Ukraine. On his trip to the Soviet capital, he continued along this east-northeasterly course while flying over Minsk.

The mission began in bad weather. “We had about 200 feet of visibility on the ground,” recalls Vito. “The sky was clear at 3,000 to 4,000 feet, but I had undercast halfway inbound.” The weather cleared as Vito followed a railroad line from Minsk to Moscow. At an altitude of more than 66,000 feet, he listened to Peter and the Wolf, a Russian musical composition with narration, transmitted from a Soviet radio station. Small mosaic fields from the collective farms passed below him. “Those fields reminded me that Russian farmers tilled the land by hand,” he says. “I couldn’t get mad at people who work that hard. I was never mad at the Soviet people themselves, just at their government.”

Vito’s mission carried him directly over Moscow and the vast array of recently constructed air defenses that encircled the city in three concentric circles at a distance of twenty, forty, and sixty miles. The metropolis was hidden by a hazy sky. “My bubble burst,” Vito recalls. “I thought, Gee I came all this way for nothing. But the filters on my camera cut through the haze. A year or so later, I learned that the resulting film picked up some remarkable detail.”

A CIA history of the U-2 claims that Vito’s flight captured photographs of the Fili airframe facility, where the Soviets were constructing their first jet bomber—known to the West as the Bison—as well as a bomber arsenal in Ramenskoye, a rocket engine plant in Khimki, and a missile plant in Kaliningrad. He turned north toward the Baltic coast from about east of Moscow before turning back south toward West Germany.

“I learned later that the Soviets launched at least five fighters to intercept my flight,” says Vito. “Two planes took off initially. The lead plane aborted takeoff ran off the runway, and exploded. The wingman went through the lead’s flames and then bailed out. Two more airplanes scrambled and were refueled in the air. Those airplanes got lost or collided. The pilots bailed out. A fifth plane scrambled but couldn’t find the tanker. He was lost and never found to this day.” Vito never received credit for five aerial victories. “After all, I never fired a shot,” he says.

On his way back to West Germany, the Canadian radar came on the air: “Lone Ranger, this is Tonto. Keep heading the way you are going. You have twenty-two minutes to touchdown.”

“I knew they were talking to me because they had the best radar around and had picked us up on previous flights,” recalls Vito. “But U-2 pilots had to observe complete silence on the radio. To this day, I wish I could have replied, ‘Ti Ee Kemosabe.’”

Vito logged over 450 hours on about 65 flights in the U-2 between 1955 and 1959. In the first U-2C at Edwards AFB, he made his final flight. In August 1960, he left the CIA’s U-2 headquarters.

Photo by Lockheed Martin