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The story of the SR-71 crew that successfully landed their Blackbird in the darkness

by Till Daisd May 30, 2023

“With no forward visibility from the back seat, my RSO was looking through his view sight and had picked up the sequence of flashing lights beneath the aircraft. It was this bond or trust I had with him that made me pull the throttle to idle and sit there until I felt the runway,” Former SR-71 pilot Lt. Col. Bernie Smith

The Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird Mach 3 strategic reconnaissance aircraft maintained its position as the world’s fastest and highest-flying operational aircraft for approximately 24 years. It streaked across hostile skies, gathering intelligence in a couple of seconds because of its extraordinary speed. It could survey 100,000 square miles of the Earth’s surface per hour from an altitude of 80,000 feet.

The most crucial ability that was taught and tested in the simulator was how to handle SR-71 emergencies while still being able to control the aircraft safely – all while traveling at 33 miles per hour. Until the aircraft reached subsonic speed and started to behave like a regular aircraft, crews had to control it while keeping it upright. High levels of crew coordination were needed for both routine and emergency operations, with the pilot and RSO collaborating closely to recognize and address any issues that may have arisen.

The one task that really put each crew’s strengths and weaknesses to the test was crew coordination. As crews were forced to deal with pressing problems that needed to be resolved and corrected as soon as possible, you could see their patience fraying and their personalities changing drastically. In the following account, a former SR-71 pilot Lt. Col. Bernie Smith (Ret) describes the value of crew coordination and other elements that make SR-71 crews function as a team in Col. Richard H. Graham’s book SR-71 Revealed: The Untold Story.

Read the story of the SR-71 crew that landed their Blackbird in zero visibility

“There is no doubt in my mind that the crew coordination between the pilots and RSOs was one of the strongest contributions to [the SR-71’s] outstanding safety record. In the airline business, this is called CRM, or cockpit resource management—the ability of a crew to function and communicate effectively in the cockpit.

The intense simulator program was the cornerstone of establishing crew coordination. Teaching a pilot to communicate the correct information to his RSO so that he could coordinate the right procedure was difficult but essential. As a simulator instructor taking a new crew through training, I was always amazed watching the crew transform from two separate individuals into one polished team.

This trust and bond between each other allowed two separate individuals, sitting in two separate cockpits, with two different roles, to perform like one individual in order to accomplish one very demanding job. This bond was a strong factor during an SR-71 emergency [Major] Eddie McKim and I had at night on December 22, 1982.

About one and a half hours into the mission while eastbound over Canada, we experienced a left generator failure. We selected Grand Forks AFB in South Dakota as the nearest suitable emergency recovery airfield. During the descent, a primary hydraulic system failed, indicating an accessory drive system (ADS) failure. An ADS failure is one of the most serious emergencies that can occur on the SR-71. Landing soon became imperative!

We dumped fuel to reduce our landing gross weight as we neared Grand Forks. The weather was deteriorating rapidly. It was now two hundred feet overcast, with one-half-mile visibility, and a slippery runway with freezing drizzle. During this emergency I flew the instrument landing system down to minimums; at minimums, where you should execute a missed approach if the runway environment is not in sight, the visibility was so bad I could not see anything.

Because there were no suitable alternate fields available and because we were low on fuel, the idea of a missed approach was not too exciting. I’ll never forget Ed’s words as I sat there at minimum staring into an opaque windshield: ‘I have the strobes insight. You’re on the centerline. Keep on coming.’ With no forward visibility from the back seat, he was looking through his view sight and had picked up the sequence of flashing lights beneath the aircraft. It was this bond or trust I had with him that made me pull the throttle to idle and sit there until I felt the runway.”

Photo by Lockheed Martin and U.S. Air Force

May 30, 2023 0 comment

History

The most thrilling one-on-one naval aircraft duel ever took place between Showtime 100 and Colonel Toon

by Till Daisd May 28, 2023

written by Till Daisd

Although Toon now appears to have been a propaganda mashup of multiple excellent North Vietnamese pilots, the Showtime 100 crew met a fantastic dogfighter that day

Lt. Randy “Duke” Cunningham was returning from a mission to suppress flak over Haiphong, North Vietnam, on May 10, 1972, while piloting an F-4J Phantom from VF-96 Fighting Falcons (callsign “Showtime 100”) from the carrier USS Constellation (CV-64). Willie Driscoll, a radar intercept officer (RIO), was seated in Cunningham’s back seat.

After the strike, an air fight broke out above the objective, separating Cunningham and Driscoll from their wingman.

Showtime 100 disengaged and began to fly toward the coast at 10,000 feet after downing two MiGs with one Sidewinder each when Duke spotted an adversary MiG-17 (NATO reporting name Fresco) closing in from the front. Duke aimed for a close pass in an attempt to prevent his rival from turning onto his six, but the tenacious MiG driver was able to fire his 23 mm cannons.

Cunningham and Driscoll were flying against Colonel Toon, the most renowned North Vietnamese fighter pilot and the leading ace of the conflict with thirteen American victories to his name. There is no doubt that the pilot the crew of the Falcon 100 fought that day was a fantastic dogfighter, as George Hall relates in his book Top Gun, even though it appears today that Toon was a propaganda hybrid of several excellent North Vietnamese pilots.

Duke did a six Gs vertical pullup to get away from the Fresco and planned a diving Sidewinder assault once he reached the peak of his zoom ascent. The MiG-17 was just 100 yards away, climbing canopy to canopy with his F-4J, when he glanced over the edge of his ejection seat in search of a glimpse of the enemy.

Duke lit the burners because he knew he could outrun the MiG, but he made another error by pulling away vertically, which allowed the enemy to re-open fire with his guns. The two aircraft then started a classic rolling scissors maneuver as Cunningham rolled off the top and spiraled downward, followed by Toon firing his cannons. This forced the Phantom to slow down to 200 knots, a speed at which the MiG had better turning and handling capabilities.

Cunningham managed to get away for two miles, after which he shot his Phantom into a vertical position of 60 degrees and flew towards the Fresco. But, like with the last battle, the MiG-17 tracked the F-4, and the Vietnamese opened fire from below to end it.

Cunningham and Driscoll were now ready to go on the attack, and this time they engaged the MiG-17 head-on while slightly offsetting it so that Toon couldn’t fire his cannons. Duke dragged the throttle to idle and popped his speed brakes as they approached the vertical. Cunningham had to start the burners when the Phantom’s airspeed fell below 150 knots in order to maintain altitude.

Toon retreated because he thought that if Cunningham fired an AIM-9, the Sidewinder would be fooled by ground clutter, even if the Phantom was able to pursue him. Duke shared the same worry, yet he still fired the third AIM-9 from his arsenal. The North Vietnamese fighter exploded and hit the ground at a forty-degree angle after the missile first appeared to miss the MiG.

Showtime 100 V Colonel Toon: the most epic 1 V 1 dogfight in the history of naval aviation

Their Phantom was struck by a SAM after the engagement as they neared the coast of North Vietnam, but fortunately, Cunningham and Driscoll were able to safely eject into the South China Sea. They had to fight a good fighter pilot, but they prevailed because of the lessons they had acquired while taking the Navy’s first Top Gun training.

Cunningham and Driscoll became the sole members of the U.S. Navy to achieve ace status during the Vietnam War thanks to the same lessons that helped them achieve their fifth victory. The authors of the article, Randy “Duke” Cunningham and Willie Driscoll, explain in the video below how they managed to shoot down their fifth North Vietnamese MiG during the battle.

Photo by U.S. Navy

May 28, 2023 0 comment

History

Walter J. Boyne demonstrates why the F-86 pilots’ 10:1 victory-loss record against the MiG-15 pilots was merely propaganda

by Till Daisd May 28, 2023

written by Till Daisd

As a result of the MiGs’ superiority against Luftwaffe pilots in World War II, the Air Force was obliged to stop using Superfortresses for daytime bombing flights and limit their usage to nighttime operations for the rest of the conflict in October 1951

The northwest portion of North Korea, between the Chongchon and Yalu rivers, witnessed an air campaign unlike any other before or after between December 1950 and July 1953. The North American F-86 Sabre, the main air superiority day fighter of the US Air Force, and the Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-15, a powerful interceptor of the Soviet Red Air Force, engaged in almost all of the combat.

The aerial conflict over Korea, long thought to have been a one-sided conflict in the West, was actually one of the fiercest aerial conflicts of the 20th century. The myth that USAF pilots and aircraft were infallible and superior to their Soviet-supplied rivals was the most pervasive in the West among the many that evolved after the end of the Korean War.

Exaggerated claims of victory over “MiG Alley,” where the majority of aerial combat took place, led to, among many other fabrications, the assertion that USAF pilots flying the F-86 Sabre against their Communist rivals in the MiG-15 had a 10:1 victory-loss ratio. Such assertions would go uncontested until the Soviet combat archives were ultimately opened at the end of the Cold War.

After that, a very different narrative started to take shape. The aerial battles of the Korean War were, at least in the early years, well-matched affairs, fought to a near 1:1 victory-loss ratio, far from being resounding American victories over an unprepared foe.

‘The appearance of advanced MiG-15 jet fighters, secretly flown by experienced Red Air Force pilots, made operations by B-29s and F-8os over North Korea extremely dangerous. As a result, the Fourth Fighter Wing, equipped with the new F-86 Sabre, was sent to Korea to counter the Soviet air threat,’ says Col Walter J. Boyne – former B-50, B-47, and B-52 pilot historian, novelist, and Air and Space Museum director who passed on Jan. 9, 2020 – in Thomas McKelvey Cleaver’s MiG Alley: The US Air Force in Korea, 1950-53.

He continues;

‘Much of what has been recorded as “official history” of the Air Force in the Korean War is little more than recycled wartime propaganda. In the past 65 years, Korea has become the “forgotten war” to most Americans, and as a result, few historians have challenged these “facts.” One of the main myths is that the pilots who arrived in Korea in December 1950 with their Sabres were combat-experienced veterans of World War II. In fact, it was the Sabre pilots who faced combat-experienced enemies during 1951, a year that US pilots called “The Year of the Honcho,” during which the Americans played catch-up with their opponents. Captain Dick Becker, recognized as the second Air Force “MiG Ace” of the war (but the first whose victories are all confirmed by Soviet loss records), said of the fighting in 1951:

“There was no 14-to-1 kill ratio when I was there. The guys we flew against were good, and they were as committed as we were. Every fight that I was in was decided by the guy in the cockpit who was better able to take advantage of the moments presented by luck. The MiG-15 was a dangerous opponent. We were very evenly matched and I am certain that overall in that first year, we fought them to a draw.”

Walter_Boyne_B47_Pilot — Walter J. Boyne

‘In fact, when actual losses are tallied up, 1951 was a draw, with the Sabres and MiGs scoring 1:1.

‘The MiGs were so good that in October 1951, they succeeded where the pilots of the Luftwaffe had failed in World War II: they inflicted such losses on the B-29s that the Air Force was forced to abandon daylight bombing missions and use the Superfortresses only at night for the rest of the war. Even with the Sabres providing cover over MiG Alley to block the MiG-15s from getting at the fighter-bombers over North Korea, the Russians and later the Chinese became such a threat that, by late 1952, fighter-bomber missions were not flown into MiG Alley until more Sabre-equipped fighter wings arrived as reinforcements in 1953, and even then the fighter-bombers were in seriously dangerous air north of the Chongchon River.’

Boyne concludes;

‘Regardless of the validity or accuracy of Air Force claims of enemy aircraft shot down, or of aircraft lost in combat, one thing stands clear: despite being outnumbered by as much as 10:1 during 1951 and much of 1952, the Air Force was successful in maintaining air superiority over North Korea. No Red Air Force combat aircraft ever flew over the battlefield on the 38th Parallel during three years of war. This is an accomplishment that is even more impressive when based on more realistic facts and figures than were given out at the time. Korea was a hard-fought war from the first day to the last.’

MiG Alley: The US Air Force in Korea, 1950-53 is published by Osprey Publishing and is available to order here.

Photo by ‘F-86 Sabre vs MiG-15’ by Doug Dildy and Warren Thompson © Osprey Publishing and U.S. Air Force

May 28, 2023 0 comment

Cold War

A-12 pilot’s safe ejection from his Oxcart after it entered a flat inverted spin

by Till Daisd May 27, 2023

written by Till Daisd

“In a matter of seconds, all hell broke out. Without any warning the A-12 pitched up and went into a flat inverted spin,” Ken Collins, A-12 test pilot

Lockheed started developing the A-11, a long-range, high-altitude aircraft, in 1959. It was a Cold War initiative. Clarence “Kelly” Johnson, Lockheed’s Vice President for Advanced Development Projects, was in charge of the project team. The U-2 spy plane was earlier developed under Johnson’s direction. On February 29, 1964, five years after the A-11’s construction began, President Lyndon Johnson told reporters that the aircraft had reached speeds of over 2,000 mph and altitudes of more than 70,000 feet during tests at Edwards Air Force Base (AFB). The aircraft had since been modified to the A-12 Oxcart production version with a reduced radar cross-section.

Three A-12s crashed during the first three years of pre-operational testing, two from mechanical issues and one from a mistake by the ground crew. Every pilot safely ejected. On May 24, 1963, Ken Collins’ A-12 number 926, which was taking part in a test flight for a subsonic engine, crashed 14 miles south of Wendover, Utah. Collins was testing an inertial navigation system when the A-12 pitched up, stalled and entered an inverted spin while in dense cloud cover. Collins noticed inaccurate and perplexing airspeed and altitude readings at this time. He lost control and ejected at a height of about 25, 000 feet while remaining unharmed.

A press cover story identified the crashed plane as a Republic F-105. Following the disaster, the A-12 fleet was briefly grounded while an investigation was carried out. Collins readily took truth serum to aid in his memory’s ability to piece together the puzzle since the need to figure out what went wrong was so great. It was discovered that icing was to blame for the Pitot-static system failure.

In Col. Richard H. Graham’s book The Complete Book of the SR-71 Blackbird: The Illustrated Profile of Every Aircraft, Crew, and Breakthrough of the World’s Fastest Stealth Jet, Ken Collins himself narrates the story of the A-12 number 926 crash.

“As we were having a lot of problems with engine fuel controls during acceleration and cruise, I was scheduled for a flight test mission to perform subsonic engine test runs. Jack Weeks was scheduled as my F-101 chase pilot. The date was 24 May 1963. Takeoff and initial cruise at twenty-five thousand feet were routine. I made the planned right turn to a heading of 180 degrees and climbed to twenty-seven thousand feet to stay out of the building cloud formations. During these missions, the chase plane was to stay close enough to observe the engine nacelles and afterburner area, but far enough away to maintain safe flight. The F-101 had a historical pitch-up problem if it got too slow in flight. As we continued south in the Wendover Danger Area (northwest of the Great Salt Lake) I entered an area of heavy cumulus cloud formations. My chase moved into keeping visual contact.

“Minutes later, Jack signed that we were getting too slow for the F-101. All my A-12 instruments (airspeed, altitude) were giving normal indications. Jack signaled that he could not stay with me. I waved him off, and he cleared to my right and disappeared into the clouds.

“I dedicated my efforts to determine what the real problems were. I engaged the autopilot and reviewed all of the instruments and systems. There were no observable failures or abnormal indications. I then disengaged the autopilot, maintaining my planned airspeed and thirty thousand feet altitude.

“In a matter of seconds, all hell broke out. Without any noticeable change in aircraft attitude or speed, the altimeter was rapidly “unwinding,” indicating a rapid loss of altitude. The airspeed indicator was also unwinding, displaying a rapid loss of airspeed. In heavy clouds, with no visual references, and with what felt like a solid platform under me, I advanced the throttle, attempting to stop the indicated loss of airspeed, but with no apparent results. At this point, I could not assume that any of the flight or engine instruments were providing correct data. And I was right! Without any warning, the A-12 pitched up and went into a flat inverted spin.

Time to eject! A-12 pilot explains how he was able to bail out safely from his Oxcart after it went into a flat inverted spin

“Realizing that I had no effective controls that the aircraft was unrecoverable from the flat, inverted spin, and that I had no true indication of my actual altitude, it was time to eject. I could have been much lower and over high mountains, which would put me dangerously close to the ground or hilltops. I closed my helmet visor, grabbed the ejection D-ring between my legs, firmly pushed my head back against the ejection seat headrest, and pulled the D-ring. The aircraft canopy flew off instantly, the boot stirrups snapped back into the seat retainers, and the ejection seat rocket shot me downward (remember, I was inverted!) and away from the aircraft.

“During my descent, I saw the A-12 spiraling toward the ground and then a large black column of smoke and flames behind a hill. I had time to look around. I saw a road to the right and a lot of rough terrains covered with rocks and sage. When I landed, I immediately released the riser safety clips and collapsed the parachute. I was in the middle of a hilly desert with little prospect of being rescued any time soon. My chase plane (Jack Weeks) didn’t know where I was, and because of the program’s tight security, we didn’t maintain radio contact with the base operations.

“I began collecting all of the flight checklist pages, which broke loose during ejection, and any other aircraft items lying around. Much to my amazement, I saw a pickup truck bouncing across the rocks coming towards me with three men in the cab. When they stopped, I saw they had my aircraft cockpit canopy in the truck bed. They asked me if I wanted a ride. They said that they would take me over to my airplane. I told them that it was an F-105 fighter with a nuclear weapon on board. They got very nervous and said that I was going with them to get in quickly because they were not staying around here.

“There were four of us in that cab. I asked them to drop me off at the nearest highway patrol office, which was in Wendover, Utah. I thanked them and that was the last I saw of them. I made my “secret” phone call. A Lockheed Constellation loaded with security and aircraft engineers arrived in less than two hours. Kelly Johnson’s jet arrived after the “Connie” to pick me up. Our flight surgeon and I flew directly to Albuquerque, New Mexico, to the Lovelace Clinic for my physical checkup.

“An intense accident investigation was conducted. I was submitted to sodium pentothal “truth serum” to confirm my statements relating to the flight and accident. The person who solved the true technical cause of the accident was Norm Nelson. Norm was a dedicated government engineer and fine, caring man, who became vice president of Skunk Works. As always, the initial belief is that there was a pilot error. Fortunately, the real causes of the accident were discovered and later corrected. It turned out to be an inadequate Pitot tube (thus the Rosemont Probe we now have) and failed air data computer.”

Photo by U.S. Air Force and Central Intelligence Agency

May 27, 2023 0 comment

Cold War

A non-standard RF-4C Phantom ejection

by Till Daisd May 26, 2023

written by Till Daisd

A conventional F-4 ejection sequence calls for the back-seater to exit first, followed by the front seater, but Lieutenant Bell’s emergency canopy release line had been damaged by an internal fire, preventing it from blowing. Captain Sams was ejected from the aircraft in the meantime, but the backseat passenger remained inside

The following article titled Phantom Ejection and written by Charles Arrington & Robert Conely appeared in Volume II, No. 1 issue of Smoke Trails, Quarterly Journal of the F-4 Phantom II Society.

The ultimate test of man and machine is not necessarily conflict, just like with every piece of military equipment. Nothing could be more accurate in describing the circumstances that followed an in-flight incident and crew evacuation for Major Mike Sams, Captain Mike Bell, and RF-4C 64-1073.

The 165TRS/123TRW Kentucky Air National Guard members Mike Sams, a pilot, and Mike Bell, a back-seater, were both scheduled to have a typical day on Saturday, May 15, 1982. The two Mikes were supposed to take off on this particular day in an RF-4C from their base in Louisville to Savannah, Georgia. Their aircraft for the trip, a Recce Phantom 64-1073, was freshly painted and had just returned from depot maintenance. Sgt. John Hourigan, the crew chief, made a jest about avoiding scratching the paint on his recently repaired aircraft as they were ready to take off. This may have been a sign of things to come.

The story of a non-standard RF-4C Phantom Ejection

Major Mike Sams discussed being in the air that fatal day for about 45 minutes while flying above the Cherokee National Forest, which is located about 40 miles southwest of Knoxville, Tennessee, during an interview for this story. What happened was as follows. The Phantom’s left side experienced a loud explosion that activated the fire warning light. Sams set the throttle on the left engine to idle before shutting it off. Then, a right-side explosion triggered a fire warning light for that engine, prompting the pilot to move this engine’s throttle to idle in response.

He then pulled the aircraft in a zoom climb, raising it from 500 feet to 1500 feet while rolling it at a 45-degree angle. “Hey Jack, I think I’ve got a problem,” was all that Pilot Sams managed to say on the radio. As if this weren’t horrible enough, worse things kept happening. All electrical systems, including the radio, failed, allowing heat and smoke into the cockpit. The flight control systems then suffered a more significant breakdown. The KY ANG crew quickly decided to eject after losing control of their aircraft. Mike Sams estimates that the time from the initial issue and the start of the ejection process was only about 10-15 seconds.

Yet, this was not going to be a typical ejection. According to the Major, a standard F-4 ejection procedure calls for the back-seater to exit first, followed by the front-seater. Mike and Mike were unaware that Bell’s emergency canopy release line had been damaged by an internal fire, preventing it from blowing. Sams was released from the aircraft but the backseat passenger remained inside due to the Phantom ejection sequence mechanism. Bell tried using different seat ejection mechanisms when 64-1073’s altitude began to decline but to no avail. Once he engaged a typical canopy release, which raises the canopy for a typical ground egress, the canopy finally blew at 600 feet. Another successful ejection from the damaged RF-4C followed the removal of the second canopy in the ejection procedure.

When he descended under his parachute after ejecting at a greater altitude, Mike Sams had a good view of Bell’s chute opening and the blazing Phantom passing by in the shape of a “skyrocket.” In close proximity to a group of loggers who raced to help Bell, he practically landed unharmed. After it crashed against a ridge line covered with trees, the burning plane burst into flames. Knowing that he would eventually crash into a tree, Major Sams directed his parachute to the nearest tree branch before impact. Eventually, once he was safe on the ground, he realized he had compression fractures in his vertebrae and a separated shoulder. Before being rescued by an Army UH-1 helicopter sent from Knoxville, both soldiers lay on the ground for almost two hours.

Major Mike Sams thought back on the incident more than three years after his abrupt departure from RF-4C 64-1073. He claimed that in order to heal from injuries sustained during the ejection, he had to take three months off from flying. Sams, who has logged more than 2000 hours in the F-4, attributes his survival on that unforgettable day to the superb ejection seat training he received from Kentucky AG Life Support specialists as well as the competent base staff who maintained the ejection seat and life support equipment. Major Sams stated that material failure on the aircraft was likely the reason for the tragic Phantom 64-1073’s loss.

In the skies above rugged terrain, Mike Sams and Mike Bell faced the ultimate test of man and machine and triumphed, thanks in large part to their abilities, the instructors who prepared them for the job, and the experts who ensured their equipment worked when necessary.

Photo by TSgt. G. Dennis Plummer / U.S. Air Force

May 26, 2023 0 comment

History

A Luftwaffe Do 17 bomber was rammed by an RAF Hurricane pilot, which saved Buckingham Palace

by Till Daisd May 25, 2023

written by Till Daisd

The Do 17’s unarmed bombs dropped over London as it disintegrated. One of the two 50-kilogram bombs that were dropped on the grounds of Buckingham Palace landed on the grass

The following story originally appeared on Wing Leader Books Facebook page. Be sure to check out their website too!

Sep. 15, 1940.

One of the most recognizable scenes from “The Battle” is when a Dornier and a Hurricane collide over Buckingham Palace on “Battle of Britain Day.” The heroic actions of the daring pilot who saved Buckingham Palace from the German bomber were reported widely in national publications as the falling planes were caught on camera from the ground. Even the 1969 movie “The Battle of Britain” featured a scene based on the occurrence.

Winston Churchill and his wife visited Air Vice Marshal Keith Park’s headquarters at Uxbridge. Churchill’s visit had no significance; he was merely “just passing” and thought to drop by. Winston clutched his unlit cigar between his teeth as Keith Park took his visitors down the stairs to the operations room, which was 50 feet below ground. Winston was politely informed by Keith Park that the ventilation system could not handle the smoke from his cigar as events unfolded.

There had been a break in activity for more than a week before Park was informed that an all-out attack was imminent. He is reported to have said as he ordered each of his squadrons to take off, “This, I think is what we have been waiting for. I think that it is about to happen.”

The scene was set for an epic battle.

The story of the RAF Hurricane pilot who rammed a Luftwaffe Do 17 bomber and saved Buckingham Palace — Sgt Ray Holmes on the wing of a Hurricane.

Once the enemy forces were mapped out on the operations table, squadrons were brought to Stand By one at a time, then Readiness. Twenty-three fighter squadrons had taken to the air before lunchtime. London was in for a “pasting” since Park knew his pilots could not withstand the enemy attack’s size.

Oberleutnant Robert Zehbe of the bomber unit 1/KG76, age 27, was piloting one of the Dornier 17s. Zehbe’s crew had executed numerous attacks successfully, including those on Kenley on August 18 and London on September 7, but this time wasn’t going as well for them. They started to fall behind the formation as a result of a malfunctioning engine, which put them in a precarious situation because fighter pilots loved to pick off stragglers.

Heading back toward home was a riskier choice because an injured bomber flying by itself across Kent’s skies was a sitting duck. As the first fighter strike occurred just south of London, they were 500 yards behind the formation. After starting the Dornier’s port engine on fire with his flight of the 310 (Czech) Squadron, Flight Lieutenant Jefferies let his less skilled Czech charges take a shot at the aircraft.

Further gunfire was fired at the helpless Dornier by pilots from the 609 and 504 squadrons who saw an opportunity for an easy kill. But, the aircraft continued to limp. Leo Hammermeister and Ludwig Armbruster, two of its crew members, bailed out at Sydenham and Dulwich, respectively. Six fighters were seen attacking repeatedly while crossing the Thames in Battersea. Ultimately, Robert Zehbe left the Dornier, leaving Gustav Hubel, his young gunner, either dead or gravely injured. Zehbe arrived at Kennington severely injured, where he was assaulted by locals before succumbing to his wounds.

Sergeant Ray Holmes, age 26, was one of the assailants. The acts of Ray, sometimes known as “Arty” after his initial R-T, while flying a Hurricane from 504 Squadron above London would make him famous at the time and 64 years later.

The Pilot’s Story from War Illustrated

And now the pilot who brought the plane down at Victoria Station tells his side of the story. It was his first fight, and he’s a Sergeant Pilot from West Kirby, Cheshire. He had to parachute out after taking out the hostile machine. He stated:

“I was in the last section of my Squadron, and my Dornier victim took all that I had to give him. Bits flew off him and I broke away intending to turn and attack again. My wind¬screen was covered with black oil, and when I did attack again I think it must have been a different machine. Anyway, as soon as I fired a big flame shot up, and I must have got his petrol tanks.

“I broke away again and turned to make a head-on attack on another Dornier, firing a burst straight into its cockpit. At first, I thought a piece of the Dornier had flown off but then I saw it was a German baling out. I passed so near that I believe I touched the parachute.

“As I made my final attack, my right wing struck something. I went into a terrific spin. There was no response from my controls.

“I flung the hood back and struggled to get out. I must have been doing well over 400 m.p.h. when I finally got out of the cockpit. The wind was so strong it was like a piece of an airplane hitting me. People on the ground told me later that my parachute opened at only three hundred feet.

“I spun across a house in Chelsea, got my feet down on a gutter, slid down the roof, and fell into the garden on my back. Then two girls came up to me, and I was so glad to see them that I kissed them both.”

Ray Holmes landed in Hugh Street and, as soon he had his wits about him, he was born off to a pub in Pimlico Road by the locals for a stiff brandy.

As the Dornier broke up its bombs fell, unarmed, over London. Two 50-kilo bombs fell on the grounds of Buckingham Palace, one on the palace’s lawn. A shackle was found still attached to one of the bombs and was presented to the King. In the days before, several bombs had fallen on the palace and caused damage; now a bomber had been brought down within sight of it. Soon journalists had hold of the story and, in its re-telling, the story became embroidered and elaborated upon. Soon the hero fighter pilot had deliberately rammed the German moments before it dropped its deadly cargo on the Royal family – he had saved the King single-handed!

Chris Bennett, a professional photographer, and artist, had long hypothesized that the Hurricane would have left behind some evidence beneath the road it had collided with, but because it is one of London’s busiest roads, recovering anything seemed nearly impossible.

The British broadcaster “Channel 5” was persuaded by the London-based TV production company Mentorn to air a spectacular excavation as “Fighter Dig Live” during prime time on a May holiday weekend. Later, it was turned into the National Geographic documentary “Search for the Lost Fighter Plane.”

Whether Ray’s ramming of the Dornier was deliberate or not, his courageous effort and remarkable survival are among the Battle of Britain‘s most enduring images and serve as a poignant reminder of September 15 as “Battle of Britain Day.”

Special thanks to Wing Leader Books Facebook page. CLICK HERE to check out their website.

Top image: Geoffrey Nutkins

Photo by unknown via Wing Leader Books Facebook page

May 25, 2023 0 comment

History

Robert Powell, the first SR-71 Blackbird pilot to log 1,000 hours, passed away

by Till Daisd May 24, 2023

written by Till Daisd

Robert Powell, the first SR-71 pilot to clock 1,000 hours of flight time in the 9th Strategic Reconnaissance Wing at Beale AFB, passed away on August 27, 2021, at the age of 90

Robert Powell, the first SR-71 pilot to log 1,000 hours of flight time, who was a member of the 9th Strategic Reconnaissance Wing at Beale Air Force Base (AFB), passed away on August 27, 2021, at the age of 90. Powell carried out missions over Korea, Vietnam, and Cuba as well.

The Appeal Democrat reported that he received 17 aviation medals in addition to three Distinguished Flying Crosses. Powell’s wife, Marlene Powell, said he remained humble and considered himself extremely fortunate to have had the chance to serve his nation and accomplish some good.

“He was proud to be a part of the history of missions in Cuba,” said Dan Powell, his son. “It was a big deal in American history.”

In 1948, Powell joined the US Air Force (USAF), and during the missile crisis, he performed more than 55 missions in Cuba. Over the course of his lifespan, he flew for more than 5,520 hours on various types of aircraft.

Robert Powell, the first pilot to clock 1,000 hours in the SR-71 Blackbird, passed away — Left- Maj. Robert M. Powell- Pilot; Right- Capt. William J. Kendrick- RSO

He was raised in Plant City, Florida, graduated from cadet school with his pilot training, and started his career as a fighter bomber.

One of the first pilots to fly the U-2 high-altitude reconnaissance aircraft was Powell in 1957. He flew the plane for about 2,000 hours in total. Powell arrived at Beale AFB in 1966 where he began flying the SR-71. His favorite planes to fly were the SR-71 and U-2, according to his wife. Powell also logged 2,000 T-33 flying hours and 800 T-38 flight hours.

Bob Powell was at the center of a terrifying incident on May 30, 1972. Paul F. Crickmore and Gary Coleman were flying SR-71#978 in a front door entry as they were approaching Hanoi when the aircraft’s Stability Augmentation System (SAS) failed, posing a risk of a double-engine flameout, according to Crickmore’s account in Lockheed Blackbird: Beyond the Secret Missions (Revised Edition). As the SR-71 began porpoising, they had just entered a 30° bank at Mach 3.2 and 81,000 feet.

Powell discovered that he needed to slow down and descend to a point where the aircraft would be easier to control while he battled to grasp the destabilized flight characteristics. Coleman radioed the tanker with a postponed rendezvous time because they would be approaching at subsonic speed. Powell accomplished a ragged aerial refueling, trailed a spare tanker to Vietnam’s east coast, filled the tanks, and slogged their way back to Kadena at 0.9 Mach (logging 6.5 flying hours).

A devoted family man who enjoyed spending time with his 12 great-grandchildren and seven grandchildren, he was also a well-respected veteran. Dan Powell, one of Robert Powell’s three children, always saw him as a hero and understood how his passion for flying aircraft never faded.

“He was my hero growing up,” said Dan Powell. “I looked up to him. I remember when I went on a field trip and he was there in his uniform and everyone was like ‘woah is that your dad’ and I said yes. We took field trips to the flight line to watch them suit up.”

Dan Powell vividly remembers how his father appeared to be an astronaut in the early flight suits. Robert Powell achieved more flying time at almost three times the speed of sound than any other non-astronaut in history in addition to having the appearance of one.

He joined the Beale Aero Club and carried on flying after retiring. He would hire a plane from Beale AFB and fly it for three to four days, generally to pick up his granddaughters for a visit in Parker, Arizona, or Eureka, according to his wife.

Photo by U.S. Air Force and Lockheed Martin

May 24, 2023 0 comment

Cold War

When a C-5 driver performed a high-speed flyby over Joe Biden’s house

by Till Daisd May 23, 2023

written by Till Daisd

To find out who the hell tried to tear the roof off Senator Biden’s house with a C-5, a call to the Pentagon was followed by calls to the MAC headquarters at Scott AFB and the Dover wing commander

Author of two books and a former C-5 pilot with 12,500 hours of flight time, Jay Lacklen, Flying the Line: An Air Force Pilot’s Journey and Flying the Line: An Air Force Pilot’s Journey Volume Two: Military Airlift Command. He is currently working on the trilogy’s last volume.

Wilmington Air Show

One of my first stateside missions took me just up the road to Wilmington, DE as a copilot on an airshow crew. The C-5 aircraft commander, “Johnny Smooth,” had a high-powered job in Washington, DC, that paid very well. His work only allowed him to complete brief missions, and this would be one of them.

Air shows are the most dangerous missions crews will experience, excluding combat sorties. The risk increases not because of difficult flying, but rather because the crew is less cautious. With their guard down, the unit and crew run the risk of incurring the wrath of the command for terrible, embarrassing procedure violations. The crew believes in error that no one is looking because it is on vacation. Everyone is observing, including retired military personnel who collectively keep a careful eye on those that are now on duty.

Some retirees believe they handled things properly, whilst others believe the present force has laxed in terms of discipline and order as compared to the veterans. They’ll keep a tight eye on the crew’s behavior and report any inconsistencies they see as supporting their pessimistic assessment of the current state of military operations.

Old-timers unconsciously attempt to attract attention to their former accomplishments by criticizing current crew members for lack of discipline while the crew prances around to the admiration of the audience.

Johnny would provide a spectacular example of this air show syndrome before we even landed and would pay an embarrassing price for doing so. Years later, I would be a similarly hapless victim of the syndrome, but this day belonged to Johnny.

I had no inkling the syndrome was about to break out as we flew the fifteen minutes or so from Dover to Wilmington IAP about 40 miles north of the base. We canceled our IFR clearance and contacted Wilmington Tower for our VFR (visual flight rules) arrival. Johnny made the call to the tower himself.

“Tower, MAC 4017, request high-speed pass down the runway for a 5,000-foot right closed pattern to a full stop.” Tower cleared him as requested. I should have suspected trouble when he asked for 5,000-foot clearance for the closed pattern, but I did not.

About eight miles out on the final, Johnny pushed up the throttles and our speed rapidly increased from our 220-knot cruise speed. I thought he would stop accelerating at the 250-knot speed limit for flights below 10,000 feet, but he did not. Since neither he nor the tower had defined high speed, he defined it himself. As we descended toward the trees surrounding the airport our airspeed climbed to 300 knots. I looked down at tree-lined neighborhoods flying by in a blur with barely enough time for me to mentally register them before they were gone.

Low-altitude flying at high speed can be problematic. The pilot’s actions can make over-controlling pitch commands a problem, leading to a porpoise motion that is made worse by the pilot’s attempts to control it. The airflow across the control surfaces is significantly more than typical or expected. Fortunately, we did not experience this problem, but it should have been considered prior to accelerating to 300 knots. One misstep at that speed descending toward the ground could have been catastrophic.

Johnny pulled the throttles back as we approached 300 knots, mercifully, and we smoked down the runway at 200 feet in relative silence. The silence came to an end when Johnny accelerated the throttles to almost full power, raised the nose to 15 degrees, and made a right turn toward our 5,000-foot closed pattern. He set the throttles to idle after reaching 3,000 feet in order to slow the plane down for the last 2,000 feet of the climb. From there we made a normal landing. Afterward, he stated that he intended to offer an advertisement for the air show the next day.

The story of the stall and fall experienced by a C-5 Reserve crew on approach to Diego Garcia

With one exception, Johnny probably would have gotten away with this maneuver using the considerable latitude he had given himself. When he launched the large power burst from the runway’s departure end, he did so over the home of Joseph Biden, a recently elected congressman, and potential vice president.

Senator Biden was not impressed. To find out who the hell tried to tear the roof off Senator Biden’s house with a C-5, someone called the Pentagon, then the MAC headquarters at Scott AFB, IL, and finally the Dover wing commander. Before we turned off the engines, the base operations’ phone started ringing.

Johnny’s punishment for the incident was inspired by a Chinese Communist confessional, in which the offender is forced to publicly and harshly criticize himself for his mistake. The following month, Johnny addressed the audience that had gathered for drill weekend, including the wing staff, to explain how he could have been such an idiot to have done such things.

Photo by U.S. Air Force

May 23, 2023 0 comment

Cold War

Ex Tomcat RIO explains how a trained F-14 crew could face 5 F-4 Phantoms

by Till Daisd May 22, 2023

written by Till Daisd

“As the Phantom neared the end of twenty-five years as a front-line fighter with the U.S. Navy, its aircrews wanted to show they still had it. Meanwhile, we Tomcat crews wanted to demonstrate the superiority of our still-new fighter,” Dave “Bio” Baranek, a Tomcat RIO with twenty years of experience

F-14 Tomcat Vs F-4 Phantom.

Early in the 1980s, US defense analysts were seriously concerned about the Soviet-built MiG-23 Flogger. The MiG-23 outperformed the MiG-17 and MiG-21 in a number of crucial areas, including radar, missiles, and top speed. The Flogger was a very capable interceptor, and because it was among the first threat aircraft types that could fire missiles against American aircraft while being tracked by radar, the threat it posed was significantly increased.

Its somewhat limited maneuverability was a drawback. Yet, throughout the 1980s, the MiG-23 was starting to appear more frequently in the air forces of possible American enemies, and because it was the first time fighter pilots faced that possibility, their capacity to fire missiles at American aircraft prior to the merging generated significant worry.

Former Tomcat RIO explains how a well trained F-14 crew could face alone 5 gutsy F-4 Phantoms — MiG-23 Flogger

West Coast F-14 Tomcat squadrons (at the time based at the Naval Air Station Miramar) undertook a series of flights for the “Rising Fighter” research effort to combat the danger posed by MiG-23s. Project Rising Fighter was designed to investigate strategies for combating the new Flogger.

Rising Fighter consisted of 2vUNK scenarios: two Tomcats doing intercepts versus an unspecified (UNK) number of F-4 Phantoms from regular Navy Squadrons, according to Tomcat RIO with twenty years of experience Dave “Bio” Baranek in his book Before Topgun Days: The Making of a Jet Fighter Instructor. All of the jets could use their radar to simulate firing missiles during the intercepts; successful launches would result in kills. The opposing formations would meet, and any remaining aircraft would engage in a dogfight.

In December 1982, Bio participated in a number of flights for Project Rising Fighter.

He recalls: “I’d been in the Fleet (VF-24 Fighting Renegades) for twenty months and had about 800 flight hours in the F-14 – a good amount of experience. More importantly […] it was only two months after completing the Topgun class. […] My pilot would be the same one I flew within Topgun: Jaws. We had honed our crew coordination to a sharp edge during challenging scenarios fighting the Topgun instructors. Now we would get another chance to practice our craft. […] It was an all-out, aggressive scenario that would require Jaws and I to use all of our skills.”

All of the sorties were conducted on the instrumented TACTS (Tactical Aircrew Combat Training System) Range near Yuma, with superior intercept control, and in real-time kill removal, as stated by Bio: “That meant that a good missile shot by either the fighters (Tomcats) or the bogeys (Phantoms) resulted in an aircraft being called ‘dead’ and immediately disengaging. Based on tactical thinking at the time, we Tomcats used only Sparrow and Sidewinder missiles, the same as the Phantoms. These missiles were roughly similar to a Flogger’s missiles, so our F-14s had little advantage in this category.”

At least for Project Rising Fighter, Baranek said that F-4 Phantoms offered a good simulation of several MiG-23 characteristics. “No restrictions were placed on tactics used by either side, so we were facing well-trained U.S. Navy pilots and RIOs. The missiles that both sides launched would be simulated, but as the Phantom neared the end of twenty-five years as a front-line fighter with the U.S. Navy, its aircrews wanted to show they still had it. Meanwhile, we Tomcat crews wanted to demonstrate the superiority of our still-new fighter.”

Tomcat crews were typically outnumbered in Project Rising Fighter sorties; their main advantages were the F-14’s superior radar, which allowed them to establish situational awareness (SA) during the intercept, and the Tomcat’s superior maneuverability “once we got to the merge. The hard part was getting there. These guys could shoot us in the face and kill us,” Bio points out.

The odds were 2v4, 2v5, or 2v6 for at least two intercepts to engagements in the majority of flights. Nonetheless, as Bio notes, “that was only how the intercept started. With the aggressive pre-merge shots and kills, both sides suffered casualties. […] Seared into my memory forever are snapshot images from a flight that started as a 2v6 and turned into a long 1v5 engagement.”

That time, during the intercept, the Tomcats killed one Phantom, but just before the merging, the F-14, which was being piloted by Cowboy and Ice (the other VF-24 aircrew that, along with Jaws and Bio, was participating in Rising Fighter), was also kill-removed.

Five Phantoms were left to be fought by Jaws and Bio alone. The furball’s most thrilling moments are relived in Bio. “It was a day with a high layer of thick clouds, softening the browns and grays of the desert during those microseconds I registered the terrain for orientation. We were flying about 450 knots when we merged with the Phantoms, and they were the same, maybe faster. I had used my radar effectively to describe their formation, and Jaws started seeing them at eight miles. ‘Tally two F-4s. Looking for the others.’

“As we flashed past their formation at 1,000 knots closing speed, Jaws immediately cranked our jet into a crushing 6.5-g left turn to get into position to take the first shots. He said, ‘Watch the guys on the right!’ The Phantoms scattered out of their formation. ‘Tally three. No threat,’ I replied.

“Through my visor, I noticed our wings sweep forward automatically as our speed decreased due to the hard turns. The high-lift leading-edge slats deployed, trembling under high g forces and turbulent airflow while we stressed our fighter in max-performance turns. At that fuel state, we weighed more than twenty-five tons.

“It wasn’t easy, but Jaws and I were in our element. We had refreshed the ‘contracts’ we developed when we went through the Topgun class, such as who looked forward and who looked back. Our weapons system use and inter-cockpit comms (ICS) were spot-on, based on practice, candid debriefs, and constant improvement. We used every system available on our Tomcat. In my general experience, the use of radar warning equipment had not been emphasized, but it was a priority for Jaws and me. I used a ‘bypass’ function so it would alert us if an F-4’s radar – which was categorized as friendly, not a threat – locked us up in preparation for a missile shot.

“We pulled more than 6 g almost constantly in the fight, but this wasn’t a problem after all of the dogfighting I had done in the past few months. Jaws called an AIM-9 Sidewinder missile shot on one Phantom and the controllers declared him killed, so he climbed away from the fight.

“A moment later Jaws called an AIM-7 Sparrow on another Phantom. Another kill. We were now 1v3.

“This memorable contest was a tight turning engagement approaching two minutes’ duration. I had to suppress my inclination to watch the ‘dogfight action’ over Jaws’s shoulder; my responsibility was the defensive lookout, behind us. Over my right shoulder, I picked up a Phantom slicing through a descending turn, a few seconds from becoming a threat, as we pursued another Phantom through a left turn. Over the ICS I told Jaws, ‘Approaching, right four (o’clock) high. Okay, hard right.’

“As Jaws broke off his attack on the jet in front of us, the irritating screech from our warning equipment announced that the Phantom had taken a radar lock. He was about to launch a missile. I made an awkward reach with my right hand to launch a few rounds of decoy flares and chaff in anticipation of the shot. We used simulated missiles, but real chaff and flares. The chaff broke his radar lock as our hard right turn neutralized his approach. We traded updates on the F-4s remaining in the fight and Jaws returned to pursuing our original target. In a few more seconds he called another missile shot and we notched another kill.

“Checking our fuel, we realized we needed to leave the area, to bug out. No Phantoms were threatening, so we headed to the southwest and extended out of their missile range. With radio calls of ‘Knock it off,’ the engagement was over.”

Bio concludes: “In the contest of Rising Fighter, it was just another event, a series of data points. When we returned to Miramar we reported the usual information – range of first radar detection, the range at initial missile launch, etc. – and objectively debriefed the engagement.

“But for me personally it has remained one of the more memorable missions from more than 3,000 hours of flying fighters.”

Photo by Dave “Bio” Baranek; MiG-23 photo: U.S. Air Force

May 22, 2023 0 comment

History

Heavy maintenance is helping the legendary BUFF to remain in service forever

by Till Daisd May 20, 2023

written by Till Daisd

‘We do heavy maintenance to the B-52. I mean heavy,’ Darren Dennis, Aerospace Propulsion Apprentice at US Air Force.

The B-52 Stratofortress has served as the backbone of the US-manned strategic bomber force ever since it entered service. The B-52 is known as the “Big Ugly Fat F****r” by its aircrews, and it is equipped to drop or launch the most varied lineup of US arsenal weaponry. This includes joint direct attack munitions (JDAMs), precision-guided missiles, cluster bombs, gravity bombs, and such.

The US Air Force (USAF) has actually decided that the B-52 will continue to be used until at least 2040 when it intends to retire all B-1B and B-2 bombers. In order to operate alongside the newest Northrop Grumman B-21 Raider, a proposal to re-engine the fleet of 76 B-52H aircraft was made in 2018. The goal of this project, known as the Commercial Engine Replacement Program (CERP), is to equip the illustrious aircraft with current-model, commercially available business jet engines.

Impressive photos prove that the Mighty B-52 Stratofortress is still kicking ass 50 years after Operation Linebacker II — A weapons load crew from the 2nd Aircraft Maintenance Squadron transports a GBU-10 munition to be loaded onto a B-52H Stratofortress during Combat Hammer at Barksdale Air Force Base, La., Mar. 10, 2021. Top image: An Air Force crew chief helps prepare a B-52H Stratofortress for takeoff during training operations at Royal Australian Air Force Base, Darwin, Australia, Apr. 3, 2018.

But how did the recognizable BUFF manage to continue operating for so long?

‘We do heavy maintenance to the B-52. I mean heavy,’ says Darren Dennis, Aerospace Propulsion Apprentice at US Air Force, on Quora.

‘I work on the engines of the B-52 and I can tell you that anything that even looks broken, from everything from clamps to major components gets replaced or repaired by the good ole maintenance folk.

‘Not to mention the Air Force has very strict guidelines of how our parts and components are maintained and kept serviceable.

‘Think about it this way. Imagine you buy a car and as the years wear on it, eventually you can’t drive it anymore because the parts are too worn out. Even if you change the fluids and do every simple maintenance thing you could to it.

‘Now imagine if every 1,000 miles on your car, mechanics are going in and changing out everything from your tires, wiring, body paneling, AC, fluids, lights, and car seats. Essentially your car will last forever.

‘Same concept with the B-52. Also, it’s just a reliable aircraft.’

Dennis concludes;

‘The Air Force isn’t getting rid of them any time soon cause there isn’t anything good enough to replace it yet. Much like the A-10 Warthog.’

The classic BUFF will likely continue to fly for at least another 25 years, proving that old soldiers don’t die; they only fade away, until a new aircraft is created to replace this legendary model.

Photo by Staff Sgt. Alexander W. Riedel and Airman 1st Class Jacob B. Wrightsman / U.S. Air Force

May 20, 2023 0 comment

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