Miss Piggy: The Storied F-4C Phantom and Her Place in American Aviation History

Aviation museums are filled with silent giants—aircraft that played a decisive role in history but now rest on their wheels, allowing visitors to marvel at their lines and legacy. Yet, among these legends, a handful stand out not just for technological prowess, but for the stories their scarred skins carry. One such aircraft, instantly recognizable in her Southeast Asia camouflage and proudly displayed at the Museum of Flight in Seattle, is F-4C Phantom, serial number 64-0776, affectionately known as “Miss Piggy.”

The Phantom’s Tale: From Frontline Fighter to Air Guard Icon

Manufactured in the crucible of Cold War necessity, the McDonnell F-4 Phantom II became an icon of American power and adaptability. Fast, heavily armed, and versatile, the Phantom flew for the U.S. Air Force, Navy, and Marine Corps—and, in later years, found new life in Air National Guard squadrons.

“Miss Piggy” entered service as an F-4C, a variant specially tailored for Air Force needs. Her career would eventually intersect with the Oregon Air National Guard (OreANG), but not before she carved her name in aerial combat history over the dangerous skies of North Vietnam.

A Triple MiG Killer: The Vietnam War Achievements

The Vietnam War was a proving ground not only for pilots but also for their machines. Dogfights with nimble, Soviet-supplied MiG-21s turned the skies into a deadly chessboard, and the F-4 earned a reputation both as a formidable missile slinger and—when necessary—a gunslinger.

“Miss Piggy,” tail number 64-0776, became a star among “Rhinos”—the Phantoms’ rhino-like nickname—thanks to three confirmed MiG kills:

3rd April 1967: In a swirling, adrenaline-charged engagement above North Vietnam, she downed a MiG-21, etching the first victory mark into her logbook.

22nd May 1967: “Miss Piggy,” flown by skilled and daring aircrews, shot down two more MiG-21s on the same day, joining an elite club of triple aces among individual airframes.

These were more than mechanical victories; they were moments of courage and skill—snapshots of split-second maneuver, mastery of radar-guided Sparrows and sidewinding missiles, and teamwork under fire.

Life with the Oregon Air National Guard

After her combat service, “Miss Piggy” joined the ranks of the Oregon Air National Guard at Portland. Here she served as a stalwart of homeland defense, a sentinel over Pacific airspace, and a point of pride for her crews.

It was during her OreANG days that she received her enduring moniker. Crew chief Ken “Rooster” Coats—himself an F-4 veteran from the war years—dubbed her “Miss Piggy.” The name stuck, blending affectionate ribbing and respect for an airframe known for her bulk, power, and uncomplaining reliability. Like the beloved Muppets character, she was outsized in both appearance and personality, and the men who maintained and flew her found the name a perfect fit for such a charismatic “Rhino.”

Preservation and Legacy

Many F-4 Phantoms met their end as targets or scrap metal when their careers wound down. But “Miss Piggy,” with her storied past and triple ace status, was spared such a fate. Recognizing her place in history—and her connection to crews past and present—the Museum of Flight in Seattle became her final home.

Now, painted in her Vietnam-era livery, “Miss Piggy” sits proudly on display. Visitors can stand before her and imagine the roar of afterburners, the tense moments of missile lock warning, and the celebratory shouts in the cockpit as an enemy MiG fell away in flames. She’s a silent educator, her presence a living connection to those moments over Southeast Asia and the every-day discipline of the Air National Guard.

More Than Metal: The Spirit of Dedication and Grit

To truly appreciate “Miss Piggy,” you must see beyond the layers of paint and rivets. You must recall the risks taken by pilots who faced one of the world’s most advanced adversaries—and the long hours put in by maintainers like “Rooster” Coats, whose steady hands meant the difference between a safe return and a catastrophic failure. Each victory mark, every faded panel, echoes dozens of stories: late-night fixes, tense pre-flight rituals, and the gruff camaraderie that defines the fighter pilot community.

To the men and women of the OreANG and those who flew missions during Vietnam, “Miss Piggy” is not just a warbird. She is a piece of shared memory, a testament to the bond between human and machine, and a reminder of the courage demanded on every sortie.

In the End, a Symbol of Triumph and Remembrance

As you gaze at “Miss Piggy” under the lights at the Museum of Flight, you stand in the presence of history. She wears her scars, her victories, her stories, and her peculiar name with pride. Triple MiG killer, Oregon guardian, and beloved “Rhino” of a grateful crew—she will never take flight again, but in memory and legacy, she soars forever.

To the casual visitor, she is simply a striking aircraft. But to those who know the tale, “Miss Piggy” is a symbol—of service, of innovation, and of the indomitable spirit that once ruled the skies.