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9 Lives Of A Fighter Pilot
By Marc "Devil Dog Of The Web" Iseli / Updated Dec. 2025
Colonel Greg Raths: the man, the myth, the only guy who could survive VMFP-3 from '77 to '86 without getting duct-taped to a Phantom. He wrangled the RF-4B like it owed him money, dodged Saddam’s fireworks in Iraq, and somehow ended up at the White House without getting thrown out for bad table manners. Now he’s a book author, which is what happens when you run out of near-death experiences and need to cash in your ninth life. I’ve got my copy, time for you to grab yours and salute this legend before he writes us all into the next chapter. Serving with this officer and gentleman? Let’s just say it was never boring..

F-4 Phantoms Gray Ghosts
By Marc "Devil Dog Of The Web" Iseli / Updated Dec. 2025
If you’re looking for bedtime reading that’ll make your inner Phantom Phanatic do barrel rolls, Peter E. Davies has you covered. I’ve swapped more emails with him than a Lance Corporal dodging mess duty, and he’s packed this book with enough F-4 and RF-4B lore to make even the saltiest plane captain misty-eyed. The book’s got stories from over a hundred aircrew and wrench-turners who kept these sea-going beasts flying, from their first baby steps to their last Reserve unit bingo calls. You’ll get MiG shootdowns straight from the guys who did the shooting, tales of the Marines breaking in the F-4 like a new pair of boots, recce pigs doing their sneaky thing, and even some ‘Bear’ hunting in the Med. There’s enough technical detail to make your head spin, plus more photos than a squadron Christmas party, over 450, in glorious color and black-and-white. Semper Phabulous.

Air Combat Magazine
By Marc "Devil Dog Of The Web" Iseli / Updated Dec. 2025
Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, and magazines were stacked higher than the sea stories in the NCO club, I’d make my weekly recon run to the local smut emporium. But this time, right between the usual skin mags and conspiracy rags, something stopped me cold: an RF-4B Phantom gracing the cover of Air Combat. Headline screamed, Phantom stand-down, VMFP-3 retires its faithful RF-4Bs. Suddenly, I got hit with a wave of nostalgia strong enough to knock the froth off a gunny's mug. I’d been out for seven years, figured the squadron would be flying forever, and in my twisted mind, the boys would stay young and reckless till the sun burned out. Turns out, time waits for no Marine, not even the Rat Pack. Even though I am old now, it’s good to know the old recce pig is parked on display somewhere, frozen in time, never to grow old.

RF-4B Phantom II
USMC Tactical Reconnaissance CD
By by Lee R. DeHaven & Richard Rentrop / Updated Dec. 2025
This CD was the full Marine Corps dog-and-pony show: RF-4B development, production, and every unit that ever got its mitts on a Phantom. There’s even an appendix tracking each bird from the day it rolled off the line to the day it got sent to the boneyard. The thing is loaded, over 100 drawings, 400 color photos, cockpit layouts, paint jobs, you name it. All digital, so you could zoom in and drool over every rivet if that’s your thing. Standard PDF, so even a boot could figure it out. Sadly, Rich has moved on to greener pastures, and the CD is about as available these days as a cold beer on duty night

Flight Jacket
By Marc "Devil Dog Of The Web" Iseli / Updated Dec. 2025
The Flight Jacket: El Toro’s answer to the National Enquirer, minus the alien abductions but with twice the sea stories. This was the base rag you’d find crumpled in the ready room or lining the bottom of a birdcage, chronicling every misadventure from 1943 until the base finally tapped out in 1999. Officially, it was the Marine Corps’ way of keeping us in the loop, or at least pretending to. Unofficially, it was where you’d spot your mug in a grainy photo after a change of command, or read about VMFP-3’s latest attempt to win a recce competition without actually breaking anything expensive. The Flight Jacket logged everything: the day the first Phantoms rolled in, the awkward switch to Hornets, and the slow fade to "Ghost Town" status when the only thing flying was tumbleweeds. Fridays weren’t just for liberty; they were for seeing who got roasted in print.

Alright, you glorious Rat Phixers and Phlyers, if we ever survived a TAD, a Det, or a BOHICA, who haven't, and you didn’t think I was the biggest gaff off in the squadron. Got a sea story, or some grainy photos your ex didn’t set on fire, and they’re only slightly illegal? Send ‘em by email, snail mail, or safety wire it to a carrier pigeon. I collect ‘em all, just nothing that would incriminate me.
80svmfp3@gmail.com

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