From Propellers to Phantoms: The Extraordinary Career of Martin “Rip” Riopelle

In the world of military aviation, few stories are as unique as that of Martin “Rip” Riopelle. While many pilots find their niche in a single branch of service, Rip’s journey took him from the cockpit of the propeller-driven A-1 Skyraider in the Air Force to the supersonic F-4 Phantom in the U.S. Marine Corps. His career is a masterclass in adaptability, survival, and a relentless passion for flying that transcended bureaucratic boundaries.

Rip’s story isn’t just about the machines he flew; it’s about a era where transition was constant and the demand for skilled pilots in Vietnam pushed the limits of training and tradition. From surviving a dramatic shoot-down to navigating the cultural shifts between the Air Force and the Marines, Rip’s legacy is a rare combat narrative that offers a deep look into the life of a dual-service aviator.

The Origin of “Rip” and the “Bear”

Every legendary pilot has a call sign, and Rip’s was born out of a simple linguistic struggle. As he recalls, his mother called him Martin Riopelle, but his first commanding officer couldn’t quite wrap his tongue around the name. During an introduction, the commander simply called him “Lieutenant Rip,” and the name stuck for the rest of his career.

However, “Rip” wasn’t his only moniker. During his time as an instructor, he was known as “The Bear.” This wasn’t because of his temperament, but because of his “Bear Stable”—a group of students that included both the exceptionally gifted and the dangerously struggling. Rip was the pilot tasked with either getting the weaker students through to less demanding aircraft or eliminating them from the program for their own safety. As he puts it, “not everybody can fly,” and in the high-stakes environment of military aviation, recognizing that reality was a matter of life and death.

The Assignment Sheet: Winning the Cockpit Lottery

For aspiring pilots in the 1960s, the “Assignment Sheet” was the most important document in their lives. Rip describes a system that was essentially a merit-based draft. At the end of training, the service would release a list of available jobs—perhaps 900 positions for 900 graduates.

The top-ranked student got the first pick of aircraft and base. If you wanted a B-52 or a KC-135, you had to hope your rank was high enough to snag a desirable location like Miami rather than a remote base in Northern Michigan. This competitive atmosphere defined the early careers of Vietnam-era pilots, as they jockeyed for the airframes that would eventually take them into the heart of the conflict.

The Training Gap: Where are the Propellers?

One of the most surprising aspects of Rip’s transition to the A-1 Skyraider was the lack of preparation for propeller-driven aircraft. By 1967, the Air Force was almost entirely focused on jet propulsion. Students trained on the T-37 and T-38, learning the nuances of jet engines, only to be assigned to “leftover” World War II-style aircraft like the A-1, C-124, or C-119.

Rip famously wrote back to training command, pointing out a massive oversight: “You didn’t tell us anything about propellers.” He had to learn the complexities of throttle, prop, and mixture settings—concepts that were second nature to WWII pilots but foreign to the “Jet Age” generation. Despite the Air Force promising to send him a manual on reciprocating engines, it never arrived, forcing Rip and his peers to master the powerful A-1 through grit and hands-on experience.

The Jump to the Marines: Trading Rank for Flight Time

After a storied stint in the Air Force, Rip found himself at a crossroads. He wanted to return to Vietnam and stay in the cockpit, but the Air Force’s career path was nudging him toward desk jobs and embassy duty. Seeking a way to keep flying, he looked toward the U.S. Marine Corps.

The transition was not instantaneous. The Marines had a strict rule: “They weren’t gonna let me fly their airplanes until I was a Marine.” This meant Rip spent a year at Quantico, essentially retraining to adopt the Marine Corps culture and standards. It was a significant investment of time, but it paid off. Shortly after finishing his training, he was asked what he wanted to fly. His answer was immediate: The F-4 Phantom.

Rip’s experience allowed him to fast-track through the ranks of his new squadron. In a matter of months, he went from a new arrival at Cherry Point to the Operations Officer of a gun squadron. His story highlights a major difference in branch philosophy; while the Air Force was focused on moving pilots into leadership and administrative roles, Rip found a home in the Marines where the mission was the priority.

The “Pilot Officer” Philosophy

Rip reflects on a concept he believes the U.S. Air Force missed: the British “Pilot Officer” model. In the Royal Air Force, some pilots choose to remain at a certain rank for their entire career simply so they can continue to fly. They forgo promotions and the “General” track in exchange for maximum time in the cockpit.

“Half of them just want to fly,” Rip notes. He argues that the military loses immense talent and experience by forcing veteran pilots into administrative roles. By allowing pilots to specialize solely in aviation, the service could retain the expertise of thousands of pilots who have no interest in the bureaucracy of high command.

Technical Mastery: The “Lunch Table” and Navy Navigation

Transitioning to the A-1 and later working with Navy-adjacent equipment introduced Rip to some unique pieces of aviation technology. One of his favorite “cockpit hacks” was the Mark 3 Plot Table, which he affectionately called the “Lunch Table.”

• The Purpose: Unlike land-based runways, an aircraft carrier is a moving target. Navy pilots used the plot table to track the ship’s “intended position” over an eight-hour window.

• The Function: It was a non-electric, hand-operated computer. By drawing the mission and the ship’s projected path, a pilot could simply rotate the wheel at the end of a mission to find the exact heading back to the carrier.

• The Convenience: In the A-1, the stick was low enough that the table could be pulled out over the pilot’s lap. This allowed Rip to fly with one hand while writing or, as the name suggests, eating lunch during grueling five-to-six-hour missions.

Key Takeaways from Rip’s Legacy

• Adaptability is Key: Moving from a propeller-driven rescue aircraft to a supersonic fighter requires a massive shift in technical knowledge and combat mindset.

• Culture Matters: The transition from the Air Force to the Marines involved more than just learning a new jet; it required a total immersion in the “Marine first” mentality.

• Experience Over Rank: Rip’s career proves that for some, the true reward of military service isn’t the stars on the shoulder, but the hours in the logbook.

• Training Gaps: Even the most elite training programs can have blind spots, such as the Air Force’s sudden move away from propeller theory during the Vietnam War.

Conclusion

Martin “Rip” Riopelle represents a vanishing breed of aviator—one who navigated the transition between two distinct eras of flight and two different branches of service. His journey from the rugged, slow-moving A-1 Skyraider to the thunderous F-4 Phantom serves as a reminder of the versatility required of Vietnam-era pilots. Whether he was being called “The Bear” by his students or “Rip” by his commanders, he remained focused on one goal: staying in the air. His story is a testament to the fact that while technology changes, the spirit of a true pilot remains the same.