Bombing the North Vietnamese was a tricky business. You flew the cumbersome, topheavy F-105 ""Thud,"" dodged competent defense, maybe encountered MIGs, and always faced unpredictable weather. Broughton, who carried a tape recorder in his cockpit, gives a ""bird's""-eye view of the air war in the North, much of it in pilot patois. It entails sky squabbling with the enemy, carefully colorless pleas for help, a friend shot down and reported dead by Hanoi Hannah, unpropitious transfers, minute enumerations of routine. Broughton, who is either B-movie brave or very naive, ignores the dissent (even derision) that has been fostered by bombing the North. He describes in detail a mission over Hanoi. It's a personal and self-congratulatory account of what Broughton describes as ""the healthy and stimulating atmosphere of the air war at wing level."" Believe it?