Ejected
At this point in my life I had flown 36 hours flying in Piper TriPacer (a small single engine civilian plane), 22.3 hours flying a T-34 (the Single engine Navy Training Plane), and had 20.4 hours in a T-2A Single engine Jet.
I was assigned to a Flight Training Squadron (VT-9) at Naval Air Station Meridian. A rather good size airport built just north of Meridian, Mississippi to train Student Naval Aviators to fly Jets after they had completed Primary Flight Training in the T-34. There were large areas of very sparsely populated forest spread around the area.
I was to conduct a solo aerobatics training flight. It would take about an hour and a half allowing me almost a full hour in the training area to conduct my maneuvers. I had been well trained in the maneuvers and was confident.
In the ready room I sat with my instructor as we went through the entire flight. It would be a VFR (Visual Flight Rules) flight. This meant that once I had cleared the airfield I would be responsible for the safety of my aircraft and any other aircraft in my area. There would be no radar coverage until I returned to the area of the air station for landing. This is the normal environment for training. The training area is reserved for our flights and there should be no other traffic within the boundaries. We just have to watch out for one another.
Once I had departed the air station I was to proceed to training area A5 a cube of airspace that provides adequate room for my assigned mission and I should be the only aircraft using that airspace. It remains, however, my responsibility to insure that no other aircraft is in the area. Once in The area I was to clear the airspace (visually check for other aircraft), establish myself at 10,000 feet and begin my maneuvers. I was reminded to stay within my assigned area and marked the area on the chart (map) on my kneepad. The knee pad straps on to you leg just above the knee and includes a small light and a clipboard where we keep notes, charts, and other papers relating to the flight. We went through each maneuver in order to insure I thoroughly understood each step involved. I was reminded to continue to insure that my airspace was clear and plan my departure from the area in time to make a landing back at N.A.S. Meridian 1 hour and 30 minutes after departure.
I proceed to the locker room where I pull on my anti-g suit, fire retardant gloves, helmet, and oxygen mask. On to the maintenance shack to check out my plane. There I get my aircraft assignment for the day and the good news that there are no outstanding problems on this particular aircraft. The last problem noted was a quicker than normal depletion of the oxygen supply. That was traced to a pipe connector and corrected.
All Navy pilots breathe 100% O2 from take off to landing. This oxygen generated from liquid oxygen carried in an insulated bottle built into the plane. The tank checked to insure it is full before each flight, as are the fuel tanks. The tank is filled from an O2 cart by a hose, much like a small fuel truck. It is refilled from a small liquid oxygen plant which is aboard every Aircraft Carrier, Naval Air Station, and most airports.
When I was assigned an aircraft I was given the last three digits of its tail number and the location on the apron (parking area) where I would find it. As I approached the plane the plane captain joined me. In this case, a plane captain takes care of several planes parked in a certain area and helps the pilot and copilot, if there is one, checkout the plane and insures that it is ready for flight
He walked around the aircraft with me as I check all of the moving and fixed surfaces for proper condition, removing the latches or covers that protect various pieces and parts while the aircraft is on the ground. Each cover or latch is attached to a long red ribbon marked, "Remove Before Flight". He then follows me up the ladder to insure that I strap in properly and to remove the ejection seat safety pin when appropriate.
Once I am satisfied that the plane is in good shape I connect the five point harness (seat belt). One strap over each shoulder, over each hip, and one between the legs. These straps must be tightened fully to insure you are properly attached to the ejection seat. The ejection seat consists of a small rocket, the seat structure, including breakers to punch through the canopy if necessary, the parachute and a survival pack. The survival pack is actually the part of the seat that you sit on. Inside are a life raft and various gear to help you survive on your own until you can get to help.
Next I plug the g-suit to a connection which will provide increasing air pressure to the air bladders as the g-force (forces equal to the pull of gravity) increase. This will help keep the blood from pooling in my lower body and continue flowing through my brain to keep me from blacking out. During this flight I will be experiencing up to 4Gs (at times I will weigh 4 my normal weight).
I plug my oxygen hose into its receptacle and the communications wire into the proper connection. This connects the microphone that is built into my oxygen mask and the earphones that are built into my helmet to the radios and intercom system of the aircraft. Next I strap my oxygen mask into position over my mouth and nose and to the helmet. I then slide both the clear and green tinted lenses that are built into my helmet into position.
We always fly with at least the clear visor down for many reasons. I have added the colored visor since I am flying in a bright Mississippi sky. I am completely covered from my helmet to my steel-toed boots. This gives me some degree of protection from things a varied as a fire in the cockpit to a bird strike (hitting a bird in air) which could (but shouldn’t) come through the canopy to ejecting.
At this point I give the plane captain a thumbs up and he visually checks to make sure I have properly connected myself to the plane, he then pulls the safety pins, which are attached to long red ribbons. He shows the ribbons to me to assure me that they have been removed and climbs down the side of the aircraft.
The plane captain then positions himself in front of the plane where I can see him and he can see the entire aircraft. He gives me the signal to start the engine. I start the engine while watching the exhaust gas temperature indicator. This is a good indicator of how well the start is proceeding. The temperature should rise steadily until it reaches normal operating temperature. If it continues climbing above normal it indicates a problem in the fuel flow and calls for immediate shut down. If it doesn’t rise properly, I have an ignition problem again a case for shut down.
I look back at the plane captain once I am satisfied that I have a good engine. He signals me to start testing my flight surfaces. First I move my stick right then left and he visually checks to insure the ailerons move correctly. Then I move the stick forward and aft as he watches to insure the elevator moves through the full range of motion. He then signals for me to move my rudder peddles and checks the movement of the rudder. After he has signaled that the surfaces have moved properly I am ready to call for clearance to taxi for takeoff.
I press the radio button on the throttle control stick, give my call sign and tail number and request permission to taxi for takeoff. The message from the tower is that I am "Cleared to taxi to hold short line 18 west, contact departure control for clearance". This translates to I am cleared to leave my parking area and proceed as guided by the markings on the pavement to a line painted just short of the western most of two runways which are headed south. There I am to radio departure control for clearance to proceed onto the runway and take off. I lower and lock my canopy into position.
I signal the plane captain to remove the wheel chocks from the main landing gear and apply my breaks. He disappears beneath one wing and reappears from under the other he proceeds to in front of the aircraft to be sure that I see that he has removed both sets of chocks. He signals me forward and moves off to the side as I move the throttle slowly forward. As the engine revs up I ease up on the brakes and start to move forward. As the plane moves forward I adjust the throttle back and use my brakes to steer the plane towards the assigned runway. Brakes on the plane are on each main landing gear and are controlled by pressure on the top of each rudder pedal.
As I approach runway 18 west the taxiway is an up slope and I have to apply more power to climb the small hill. At the top of the rise is small level area and the hold short line. Fortunately, there is no one else in line because stopping and starting a jet on a hill without running into the guy in front or behind you is like stopping a stick shift in a line of traffic on a hill.
At the hold short line I retard the throttle to idle, apply the brakes and come to a full stop. I radio departure control for my clearance to take off. As soon as my clearance comes I check to insure that no one is about to land on the runway, apply a little throttle, and release the brakes. As I approach the centerline of the runway I apply the left brake and pivot to 180 degrees, the heading of runway 18.
At this point I make sure all my gauges are pointing in the right direction and apply both brakes fully. In the Navy every take off is a simulated carrier take off and every landing is a simulated carrier landing. Take off will be as rapid as safely possible and all landings will be as close to a designated spot as possible.
I move the throttle to the full forward position. This position is referred to as Full Military position and is 104% of the engines rated, or normal power. A jet engine has a noticeable lag between when power is applied and when it is available I sit there with the throttle full forward and the brakes on full until the power is maximized. I release the brakes and start the take off roll. I feel the air-conditioning come on full and watch my gauges and my lineup on the runway centerline. As the speed increases the rudder becomes more and more effective and instead of using my toes to control my direction I use full leg movement. Once I reach take off speed I apply pressure to pull the control stick back towards me and feel the nose rise off the ground, followed almost immediately by the main landing gear. As soon as my climb is established I hit the gear up knob and watch as the three indicators change from gear down to gear up. I can actually feel the change in acceleration as the aerodynamics of the plane clean up and I reduce the throttle to normal climb position. In almost no time I am at 500 feet above the ground which is the altitude for the departure pattern.
The departure pattern is an oval at 500 feet, which loops around the take off strip The long legs of the oval parallel the runway at a distance that conveniently allows you to observe the runway. All turns in the pattern are to the left and you follow the pattern until you come to the course you want to depart on. At NAS Meridian we use different runways for take off and landings. Normally the same pattern is used for both landings and takeoffs with planes both joining and departing the pattern in an orderly manner.
As I approach the heading for going to my assigned training area I start my turn and increase the throttle to begin a climb to the transit altitude of 1500 feet. For the next 15 minutes I can relax, keep my scan going across the instruments and across the sky to remain aware of the proximity of any other aircraft. This is really the only time for sightseeing in a training flight.
I finally enter my training are and while making my climb to 5000 foot exercise altitude I do a few clearing turns to reassure myself that the area is clear of other planes. I start my routine with the simplest and work from there. I start with a simple aileron roll. While cruising along simply move the stick to the side and adjust the nose as necessary while spiraling along your course like corkscrew. I then do a few clearing turns (just slowly turning from side to side to visually check the area) to make sure I am still alone. Now a simple four point roll. I start in normal flight, rapidly push the stick to the side and then center it, adjusting the nose position so I am flying with my wings straight up and down, and hold it for a few seconds. Now push the stick to the side and roll to an inverted position, in this position you need to push the stick forward to raise the nose and maintain altitude. A few seconds later and you roll to the opposite wing down. The fourth position is back to normal flight. I am not very precise in my moves today. I’ll have to practice this again. The second time I am able to stop the roll at closer to 90,180, and 270 degrees. If I have time I’ll have to try again a bit later.
Now for a loop. This is a fun maneuver that really demonstrates the way speed, power, and altitude are related. If you keep any one constant you can trade the other two off against each other. If you keep the altitude constant and increase power you gain speed, decrease the power and your speed decreases.
When you leave the power fixed you can gain speed by loosing altitude or loose speed by climbing. The third leg is a bit more esoteric, but if you loose your engine it comes in handy. You can increase your speed by giving up altitude, or you can gain altitude by giving up speed.
Ideally you want to enter and leave a loop at the same altitude; it takes a bit of practice to accomplish consistently. I do my clearing turns and set up to base my loop at 5000 feet. I apply power and start to pull back on the stick. As I climb I increase the pressure on the stick until I am pulling 4 Gs. As I near the top of the loop my airspeed has decreased significantly and the G forces decrease, my altitude has increased significantly and I have to look over my head to pick up the horizon visually to insure that my wings are parallel to it. Now the power comes off as I continue pulling the stick towards me to begin the second half of the loop. As the dive starts the speed starts to build and as I keep the pressure on the stick the Gs start building again. Soon I feel the full force of 4 Gs again as I see my altimeter spinning down toward 5000 feet. As I approach the horizontal I adjust my throttle back to cruise position and ease off on the stick.
5050 feet, not bad, but need to do it again later.
My next maneuver is called a minimum radius turn. I am to turn the plane as quickly as possible, essentially do a sideways loop. In fact I will make a 360-degree turn in as small a circle as I can. The big trick here is not to loose altitude while completing the turn. I do my clearing turns and when I am reassured that I am alone I establish myself at 5000 feet. Now a quick roll to left wing down and a pull on the stick until I read and feel 4 Gs. I adjust the nose position relative to the horizon and adjust the throttle as necessary while maintaining my airspeed and altitude. As I approach my original heading I let the G forces come off as I roll back towards wings level, then I roll right wing down and bring the Gs back on to do one in the other direction.
All of a sudden something doesn’t feel right. I am about one quarter of the way around my circle I feel the rudder pedals get mushy, the horizon jumps and the earth starts spinning crazily. Ok, I recognize this situation. I’m in a spin. A spin is a condition where the plane has lost lift and is spiraling towards the earth out of control. I’m not particularly worried, although I’m sure my heart rate is skyrocketing. In the T-34, a propeller plane that we used in Primary Flight Training, we routinely put the plane into a spin in order to learn to recognize the condition and to learn how to get the plane back under control. We had not practiced spin recovery in the T-2 jet, because it causes excessive stress on the aircraft structure. I, however, was confident that I could recover from the spin.
I follow the procedure that worked in the T-34, a combination of power, rudder and aileron movement that should allow me to change the spin into a controlled dive. It doesn’t work. The earth keeps spinning around and it is getting faster. I rapidly repeat the procedures to no avail. I rapidly try every other spin recovery I can think of, all to no avail. My altitude is rapidly decreasing and I have no more ideas and no time to do anything except reach for the ejection seat handle above my head. No time for a radio report, no time for anything, I am too low!
I reach for the grab bar above my helmet with both hands – there is no sense in trying to control the plane at this point. For a fraction of a second I have no idea what happens. My first realization is that my right foot is visible near my right eye. The next thing I notice is the trees are reaching up for me very, very rapidly. Just before I hit the trees I pull my arms up over my eyes. Then I feel it, my parachute has finally opened, and really opened. My oxygen mask and arms are pulled away from my face and just as rapidly jammed back into it and I am falling through branches.
When I return to reality I am semi-reclining. My feet are on the ground, my seat pack with its rescue gear is beneath my butt, and probably on the ground. My shoulders are being supported about 2.5 to 3 feet above the ground by the parachute risers which are going up to the parachute which is caught in the tree. As I am reaching for the releases I hear shouts of people running toward me. They are asking am I all right and something about the other guy not having a chute. Instead of releasing myself from the chute I suddenly realize that my crushed oxygen mask is still being held, very painfully, by it’s straps against my face. I reach for the release on my helmet.
As the men arrive they gather around me and help me get out of the parachute harness. My mouth and face are a little bloody and my knee hurts a lot, but other than that I seem to be OK. The men turn out to be loggers who are working in the area. They saw my plane spinning to the ground, saw the canopy blow off and saw two ejection seats come out. This is normal since something could be wrong with whoever is in the back seat. Since the seats are launched out of the plane by small rockets and the rocket on the front seat could injure anyone in the back seat, the back seat is sent out first. No matter who initiates the ejection sequence it is the same, the canopy is ejected, and the back seat is launched and then the front seat.
They saw my parachute open just above the trees, but didn’t see any chute on the other seat (this is normal). I reassured them that I was alone, that they need not worry about the other seat. They also saw the plane crash into the ground and wanted to know if I wanted to go see it. I really wasn’t interested in seeing the remains of the plane I just left, but I was worried that no one knew I had crashed since I hadn’t radioed any May Day.
My new friends were about as hyper as I was at this point. They were willing to do anything they could to help me. They didn’t have a radio to contact the air station so they would take my by truck to a phone. I was just able to walk, but they helped me to a nearby truck and drove me to a nearby farmhouse. My mental faculties were not working at full speed but the loggers must have had the same problem. Instead of one of them walking up to the door with me I hobbled to the farm door with my mouth still bleeding slightly, my helmet in hand, and a truck full of loggers watching from the road. I rang the bell and a shocked woman answered the door in no time. I must have been quite a site. I asked if I could call the Air Station and she responded by throwing the door open and yelling, "Yes, how else can I help you." I figured all I needed was to call to report the crash and she immediately. She immediately handed me the phone and I dialed the operator. I didn’t want to have the poor woman charged for a call so I said I wanted to place a collect call to my squadron. The operator tried three times, just try to place a collect call to a desk on a military base. It wasn’t until she mentioned that it was from a downed pilot that they accepted the call. I told the duty officer who I was, what area I had been flying in and that I had crashed. They decided to send a helicopter out to pick me up, but needed to know where, precisely, they could land to pick me up. I asked the nice lady to give them the location. When she was done she said she told them to land in a field just down the road from the house. I thanked her and went back to the loggers and told them what was happening. They gleefully said they would take me to the field and wait for the helo with me.
In about 30 minutes the helo landed and I hobbled out to it and waved goodbye to my new friends. I never remembered any names, but I’m sure they had a better time with me than the normally do among the trees.
Since the Naval Air Station was too small for a hospital the helicopter brought me directly to the Base Dispensary. There I was gone over from head to toe. My knee had some significant muscle and possible ligament damage and was warped in a cast. I had friction burns from where the parachute straps had dug into my skin when the chute opened, minor cuts around my mouth from the oxygen mask, and a shattered molar. I was issued a set of crutches and sent back to my squadron for debriefing. I told my story while they were getting hold of my wife. By the time she showed up I was ready to leave. As we were walking down the hall to exit the building I suddenly felt faint. I guess the adrenaline finally ran out. As I sat on the floor with Pat and a bunch of officers running around trying to figure out what to do with me it finally got through to me.
I had just lost control of a jet aircraft I had been flying by myself. I had ejected too low and was probably saved by crashing into and through the tree. I had walked to a farmhouse, made a collect call to report the crash, ridden in a helicopter back to the base, gone through a complete physical, and been debriefed. All in one afternoon. I deserved to feel like I was going to faint.
After a few minutes sitting on the cold tile with my face against the cold cement block of the corridor wall I started to feel better and decided I didn’t want to go back to the Dispensary.
During the next week it was determined that I had only done muscle damage to my knee and the cast was replaced with ace bandages. The pieces of my smashed molar were replaced with a big gold bridge and I was briefed on what they figured had happened and shown pictures of the crash site.
The most amazing thing I noticed in the pictures was how straight into the ground the plane had gone. Essentially there was a crater with the two wing tip tanks stuck on each side of the hole. Evidently, a cable to the rudder had broken, that caused me to go into the spin. They did, however, feel I should have been able to pull out of the spin. The then added spin training to the syllabus. HM…
In less than two weeks I was back in the air. A couple of check rides with instructors and I was allowed to fly solo again. I was back in the normal syllabus in no time. I flew for 30.5 more hours, which included some instrument time, and one occasion where, on a solo, I had indications that there had been a failure of the oil system to the engine. In a jet engine lubrication is vital. The book says that you don’t change engine speed unless you absolutely have to. I was fortunate enough to be in cruising condition when the gauges started to indicate problems. I radioed my status to the tower and was cleared back to base immediately. On the way back to the field I passed through a very low cloud for a few moments where all I could see was the ground almost directly below me. That thew my first scare into me on the flight. My next challenge was to be a faster than normal landing. Since we had nice long runways I was instructed to fly the plane onto the runway before cutting power. A normal landing involves slowing from cruising speed to landing speed and lowering flaps to increase lift at lower speed. This landing would require me to lower the landing gear at the top speed to do so, land without flaps, land at high speed, cut the engine to idle immediately upon touchdown and use maximum aerodynamic breaking as well as full mechanical braking.
I was assured that if I managed to keep it on the ground but didn’t stop in time there was emergency arresting gear. A wire across the end of the runway that should catch on the landing gear and start pulling on a big anchor chain. That should stop me before I ran off the end of the runway. Fortunately, I was able to keep the plane on the ground and bring it to a stop long before the emergency gear.
After a few discussions with instructors and the Squadron Commanding Officer it was decided that with 74.2 hours of flying in the training command I would D.O.R. (Drop On Request). I just didn’t have the confidence in myself to be a fighter pilot. I was offered the chance to fly transports or helicopters, but I just didn’t have the desire anymore. A D.O.R. would allow me to leave flight school without prejudice and allow me to continue my remaining obligated service as a Naval Officer without any problems.
