From "The Cats of MiG Alley," Monday June 29, 1953http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,889762,00.html
It was, as the briefing officer said, "a day worth drooling over," a fine day for hunting MIGs. With the howl of a tornado, four F-86 Sabre jets roared up from the Korean airfield and headed north for MIG Alley. For half an hour they climbed steadily, timing their ascent to conserve fuel and reach the Yalu at 45,000 ft. At that altitude, everything was silvery and incredibly bright; above, the sky was dark and greyish.
The air was so thin that the pilots had to take in their oxygen under pressure to get it into their lungs. Working 90-odd controls with the light-fingered touch of master watchmakers, the pilots glanced now & then at the dozens of dials and flashing instrument lights that might warn of trouble, while they searched the sky for MIGs. Suddenly, from far below, came a glint of silver.
"Ten MIGs at 2,000 feet," crackled a Sabre jet pilot's voice on the VHF radio....
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I guess a UF-edition of this would make for a nice update to the old flightline sign, "Through these gates pass the best damn fighter pilots in the galaxy" :)