World War II B17 Flight Log

Thanks to George F. who sent me the below pdf file of entries from the flight log of a World War II B17 bomber. In this age of stealth aircraft, smart bombs, missiles and over-the-horizon air-to-air weapons, we forget the up close and personal nature of war just a few decades ago.

B17log

Oh No! It’s the Blue Angels Again

I read the newspapers including the online one; I searched the Seattle City Council agenda, nothing on the talk shows. I began to wonder if Seattle’s Seafair celebration is canceled this year? Maybe it’s because Obama is in the White House and Democrats rule the land but where are the annual protests and resolutions condemning the U.S. Navy’s Blue Angels? Not to worry, there are still a few “just give peace a chance” types out there. One has only to look at the comments on a Seattle Times notice about closure of I-90 for a Blue’s practice session.

Spiffy D wrote:

Fighter jets are made to kill people, so when I hear or see one, that’s what I think of.
It’s not appropriate for war machines to be included in a supposedly family-friendly civic celebration for the purpose of military recruitment.

Kathy B. followed with:

From the Blue Angels website:
“The Blue Angels’ mission is to enhance Navy and Marine Corps recruiting efforts and to represent the naval service to the United States, its elected leadership and foreign nations. “
It is bad enough that military recruiters have to have access to minors in schools…having this arrogant display of militarism and resource wasting in the face of closing schools and mounting debt is disgusting. It is not the sound of freedom.

While KeepYourHeadsInTheSand opposes metaphors of sound:

It’s the sound of thousands of gallons of finite petroleum being consumed.
It’s the sound of millions of taxpayers’ dollars being turned into a circus performance to entertain the drunken drones.
It’s the sound of a rare bird being pureed by a jet engine for no other reason that to mollify the mindless masses.
It’s the sound of a homeless child crying because she has no food.
It’s the sound of a blue-collar worker sighing as he looks over his mounting health-care costs.

In a perfect world, no threats from dictators, rogue nations or terrorists and no Blue Angels but we don’t live in such a world. As the only superpower, we have responsibilities in defending freedom and democracy. The Blue Angels are a symbol of that responsibility.

Joint Strike Fighter Video

Boeing lost the competition, plane too ugly some say, for the Joint Strike Fighter to Lockheed Martin. But the below video from subcontractor Northrop Grumman on the JSF radar system, sales propaganda or not, is impressive plus the plane is cool too.

Northrup Grumman JSF Video

See “Military” under “All Categories” on the left of page for related posts.

Navy 3, Pirates 0 Replay

The below story recounts the events surrounding the rescue of the captain of the MV Alabama from his captors, Somalia pirates. I received it from a Navy friend who claims it was written by a retired Admiral so it is third hand but I believe accurate, politics aside.

wep

First though, let me orient you to familiarize you with the “terrain.”

In Africa from Djibouti at the southern end of the Red Sea eastward through the Gulf of Aden to round Cape Guardafui at the easternmost tip of Africa (also known as “The Horn of Africa”) is about a 600 nm transit before you stand out into the Indian Ocean. That transit is comparable in distance to that from the mouth of the Mississippi at New Orleans to the tip of Florida at Key West– except that 600 nm over there is infested with Somalia pirates.

Ships turning southward at the Horn of Africa transit the SLOC (Sea Lane of Commerce) along the east coast of Somalia because of the prevailing southerly currents there. It’s about 1,500 nm on to Mombassa, which is just south of the equator in Kenya. Comparably, that’s about the transit distance from Portland Maine down the east coast of the US to Miami Florida. In other words, the ocean area being patrolled by our naval forces off the coast of Somalia is comparable to that in the Gulf of Mexico from the Mississippi River east to Miami then up the eastern seaboard to Maine.

Second, let me globally orient you from our Naval Operating Base in Norfolk, VA, east across the Atlantic to North Africa, thence across the Med to Suez in Egypt, thence southward down the Red Sea to Djibouti at the Gulf of Aden, thence eastward to round Cape Guardafui at the easternmost tip of Africa, and thence southerly some 300 miles down the east cost of Somali out into the high seas of the Indian Ocean to the position of MV ALABAMA is a little more than 7,000 nm, and plus-nine time-zones ahead of EST.

Hold that thought, in that, a C-17 transport averaging a little better than 400 kts (SOG) takes the best part of 18 hours to make that trip. In the evening darkness late Thursday night, a team of Navy SEALs from NSWC (Naval Surface Warfare Center) Norfolk parachuted from such a C-17 into the black waters (no refraction of light) of the Indian Ocean– close-aboard to our 40,000 ton amphibious assault ship, USS BOXER (LHD 4), the flagship of our ESG (Expeditionary Strike Group) in the AOR (Area Of Responsibility, the Gulf of Aden). They not only parachuted in with all of their “equipment,” they had their own inflatable boats, RHIB’s (Rigid Hull, Inflatable Boats) with them for over-water transport. They went into BOXER’s landing dock, debarked, and staged for the rescue– Thursday night.

And, let me comment on time-late: In that the SEAL’s quick response– departing ready-alert in less than 4 hours from Norfolk– supposedly surprised POTUS’s staff, whereas President Obama was miffed not to get his “cops” there before the Navy. He reportedly questioned his staff, “Will ‘my’ FBI people get there before the Navy does?” It took the FBI almost 12 hours to put together a team and get them packed-up– for an “at sea” rescue. The FBI was trying to tell him that they are not practiced to do this– Navy SEALs are. But, BHO wanted the FBI there “to help,” that is, carry out the Attorney General’s (his) orders to negotiate the release of Captain Phillips peacefully– because apparently he doesn’t trust GW’s military to carry out his “political guidance.”

The flight of the FBI’s passenger jet took a little less than 14 hours at 500-some knots to get to Djibouti. BOXER’S helos picked them up and transported them out to the ship. The Navy SEALs were already there, staged, and ready to act by the time POTUS’s FBI arrived on board latter that evening. Notably, the first request by the OSC (On Scene Commander) that early Friday morning to take them out and save Captain Phillips was denied, to wit: “No, wait until ‘my’ FBI people get there.”

Third, please consider a candid assessment of ability that finds that the FBI snipers had never practiced shooting from a rolling, pitching, yawing, surging, swaying, heaving platform– and, target– such as a ship and a lifeboat on the high seas. Navies have been doing since Admiral Nelson who had trained “Marines” to shoot muskets from the ship’s rigging– ironically, he was killed at sea in HMS VICTORY at the Battle of Trafalgar by a French Marine rifleman that shot him from the rigging of the French ship that they were grappling alongside.

Notably, when I was first training at USNA in 1955, the Navy was doing it with a SATU, Small Arms Training Unit, based at our Little Creek amphib base. Now, Navy SEAL’s, in particular SEAL Team SIX (The “DevGru”) based at NSWC (Naval Surface Warfare Center) at Little Creek do that training now, and hone their skills professionally– daily. Shooting small arms from a ship is more of an accomplished “Art Form” than it is a practiced skill. When you are “in the bubble” and “in tune” with the harmonic motion you find, through practice, that you are “able to put three .308 slugs inside the head of a quarter at 100 meters, in day or night– or, behind a camouflaged net or a thin enclosure, such as a superstructure bulkhead. Yes, we have the monocular scopes that can “see” heat– and, draw a bead on it. SEALs are absolutely expert at it– with the movie clips to prove it.

Okay, now try to imagine patrolling among the boats fishing everyday out on the Grand Banks off our New England coast, and then responding to a distress call from down around the waters between Florida and the Bahamas. Three points for you to consider here: (1) Time-Distance-Speed relationships for ships on the high seas, for instance, at a 25-knot SOA (Speed Of Advance) it takes 24 hours to make good 600 nm– BAINBRIDGE did. (2) Fishermen work on the high seas, and (3) The best place to hide as a “fisherman” pirate is among other fishermen

Early Wednesday morning, 4/8/2009, MV ALABAMA is at sea in the IO about 300 miles off the (east) coast of Somalia en route to Mombassa Kenya. Pirates in small boat start harassing her, and threatening her with weapons. MV ALABAMA’s captain sent out the distress call by radio, and ordered his Engineer to shut down the engines as well as the ship-service electrical generators– in our lingo, “Go dark and cold.” He informed his crew by radio what was happening, and ordered them to go to an out-of-the-way compartment and lock themselves in it– from the inside. He would stay in the pilot house to “negotiate” with the pirates.

The pirates boarded, captured the Captain, and ordered him to start the engines. He said he would order his Engineer to do so, and he called down to Engine Control on the internal communication system, but got no answer. The lead pirate ordered two of his four men to go down and find him and get the engines started.

Inside a ship without any lights is like the definition of dark. The advantage goes to the people who work and live there. They jumped the two pirates in a dark passageway. Both pirates lost their weapons, but one managed to scramble and get away. The other they tied up, put tape over his mouth and a knife at his throat.

Other members of the crew opened the drain cocks on the pirates boat and cast it adrift. It foundered and sunk. The scrambling pirate made it back to the pilot house and told of his demise. The pirates took the Captain at gun point, and told him to launch one of his rescue boats (not a life boat, per se). As he was lowering the boat for them, the crew appeared with the other pirate to negotiate a trade. The crew let their hostage go to soon, and the pirates kept the captain. But, he purposefully had lowered the boat so it would jam.

With the rescue boat jammed, the pirates jumped over to a lifeboat and released it as the captain jumped in the water. They fired at him, made him stop, and grabbed him out of the water. Now, as night falls in the vastness of the Indian Ocean, we have the classic “Mexican” standoff, to wit: A life-boat that is just that, a life-boat adrift without any means of propulsion except oars and paddles; and, a huge (by comparison) Motor Vessel Container Ship adrift with a crew that is not going to leave their captain behind. The pirates are enclosed under its shelter-covering, holding the captain as their hostage. The crew is hunkered down in their ship waiting for the “posse” to arrive.

After receiving MV ALABAMA’S distress call, USS BAINBRIDGE (DDG 96) was dispatched by the ESG commander to respond to ALABAMA’s distress call. At best sustainable speed, she arrived on scene the day after– that is, in the dark of that early Thursday morning. As BAINBRIDGE quietly and slowly, at darkened-ship without any lights to give her away, arrived on scene, please consider a recorded interview with the Chief Engineer of MV ALABAMA describing BAINBRIDGE’s arrival. He said it was something else “… to see the Navy slide in there like a greyhound!” He then said as she slipped in closer he could see the “Stars and Stripes” flying from her masthead. He got choked up saying it was the “…proudest moment of my life.”

Phew! Let that sink in.
Earlier in the day, one of the U.S. Navy’s Maritime Patrol Aircraft, a fixed wing P3C, flew over to recon the scene. They dropped a buoy with a radio to the pirates so that the Navy’s interpreter could talk with the pirates. When BAINBRIDGE arrived, the pirates thought the radio to be a beaconing device, and threw it overboard. They wanted a satellite telephone so that they could call home for help. Remember now, they are fishermen, not “Rocket Scientists,” in that, they don’t know that we can intercept the phone transmission also.

MV ALABAMA provided them with a satellite phone. They called home back to “somebody” in Eyl Somalia (so that we now know where you live) to come out and get them. The “somebody” in Eyl said they would be out right away with other hostages, like 54 of them from other countries, and that they would be coming out in two of their pirated ships. Right– and, the tooth fairy will let you have sex with her. Yea, in paradise. The “somebody” in Eyl just chalked up four more expendables as overhead for “the cost of operation.” Next page.

Anyway, ESG will continue to “watch” Eyl for any ships standing out.

The Navy SEAL team, SEAL TEAM SIX, from NSWC briefed the OSC (Commander Castellano, CO BAINBRIDGE) on how they could rescue the captain from the life boat with swimmers– “Combat Swimmers,” per se. That plan was denied by POTUS because it put the captain in danger– and, involved killing the pirates.

The FBI negotiators arrived on scene, and talked the pirates into sending their wounded man over for treatment Saturday morning. Later that afternoon, the SEAL’s sent over their RHIB with food and water to recon the life boat but the pirates shot at it. They could have taken them out then (from being fired upon) but were denied again being told that the captain was not in “imminent danger.” The FBI negotiators calmed the situation by informing the pirates of threatening weather as they could see storm clouds closing from the horizon, and offered to tow the life boat. The pirates agreed, and BAINBRIDGE took them under tow in their wake at 30 meters– exactly 30 meters, which is exactly the distance the SEALs practice their shooting skills.

With the lifeboat under tow, riding comfortably bow-down on BAINBRIDGE’s wake-wave (“rooster tail”), had a 17-second period of harmonic motion, and at the end of every half-period (8.5 seconds) was steady on. The light-enhanced (infra-red heat) monocular scopes on the SEAL’s .308 caliber Mark 11 Mod 0 H&K suppressor-fitted sniper rifles easily imaged their target very clearly. Pirates in a life boat at 30-meters could be compared to fish in a barrel. All that was necessary was to take out the plexiglass window so that it would not deflect the trajectory of the high velocity .308 round. So, a sniper (one of four) with a wad-cutter round (a flaxen sabot) would take out the window a split second before the kill-shot– no change in sight-picture, just the window blowing out, clean.

Now, here’s the part BHO’s “whiz kids” knew as well as the Navy hierarchy, including CO BAINBRIDGE and CO SEAL TEAM SIX. It’s the law in Article 19 of Appendix L in the “Convention of the High Seas” that the Commanding Officer of a US Ship on the high seas is obligated to respond to distress signals from any flagged ship (US or otherwise), and protect the life and property thereof when deemed to be in IMMINENT DANGER. So, in the final analysis, it would be Captain Castellano call as to “Imminent Danger,” and that he alone was obligated (duty bound) to act accordingly.

Got the picture?

After medically attending to the wounded pirated, and feeding him, come first light (from the east) on Easter Sunday morning and the pirates saw they were being towed further out to sea (instead of westward toward land), the wounded pirate demanded to be returned to the lifeboat. There would BE NO more negotiations– and, the four Navy SEAL snipers “in the bubble” went “Unlock.” The pirate holding Captain Philips raised the gun to his head, and IMMINENT DANGER was so observed and noted in the Log as CO BAINBRIDGE gave the classic order: WEAPONS RELEASED! I can hear the echo in my earpiece now, “On my count (from 8.5 seconds), 3, 2, 1, !” POP, BANG! Out went the window, followed by three simultaneous shots. The scoreboard flashed: “GAME OVER, GAME OVER– NAVY 3, PIRATES 0!”

I hope you found the above informative as best I know it– and, please excuse me in that after more than 50 years the Navy is still in me. I submit that AMERICA is going to make a comeback, and more than likely it’ll be on the back of our cherished youth serving with honor in Our military. So, let’s Look Up, Get Up — and, Never Give Up!

Japan & WWII Super Submarine

When you hear people oppose expenditures for advanced weapons systems such as the anti missile system, stealth fighter aircraft and laser weapons ( see Star Wars ), ask them what kind of world we would have today if the Germans had won the race for an atomic bomb. The following web site sent to me by a friend tells about Japanese development of a super submarine that had it been operational at the beginning of WWII might have significantly altered the length if not outcome of the war.

Click on Super Sub

Star Wars, The Laser Weapon Is Here

The below post was sent to me and is taken from the web site listed at the end. I’m familiar with the Airborne Laser program from my days at Boeing but I did not know it was so close to reality. How far the art of war has come since B-17s rained destruction on Europe, B-52s carpet bombed the Viet Cong and fighter/bomber pilots used “The Force” and skills learned from hours of practice to strike a target. Smart bombs and missiles and now beam weapons and pilotless aircraft provide a technological edge in asymmetric warfare such as we face today against terrorists who hide among the population. They lessen collateral damage and casualties. What they say about man’s warrior nature is another story.

Boeing’s new laser cannon can melt a hole in a tank from five miles away and 10,000 feet up—and it’s ready to fly this year.

Inside the Advanced Tactical Laser

Creating a laser that can melt a soda can in a lab is a finicky enough task. Later this year, scientists will put a 40,000-pound chemical laser in the belly of a gunship flying at 300 mph and take aim at targets as far away as five miles. And we’re not talking aluminum cans. Boeing’s new Advanced Tactical Laser will cook trucks, tanks, radio stations—the kinds of things hit with missiles and rockets today. Whereas conventional projectiles can lose sight of their target and be shot down or deflected, the ATL moves at the speed of light and can strike several targets in rapid succession.

Last December, Boeing, under contract from the Department of Defense, installed a $200-million prototype of the laser into a C-130 at Kirtland Air Force Base in New Mexico in preparation for test flights this year. From there it will go to the Air Force for more testing, and it could be in battle within five years.

Precise control over the beam’s aim allows it to hit a moving target a few inches wide and confine the damage to that space. The Pentagon hopes such precision will translate into less collateral damage than even today’s most accurate missiles. Future versions using different types of lasers could be mounted on smaller vehicles, such as fighter jets, helicopters and trucks.

How to Melt a Tank in Three Seconds Or Less

1. Find Your Target
When the C-130 flies within targeting range (up to five miles away), the gunner aims using a rotating video camera mounted beneath the fuselage. The computer locks onto the object to continually track it. A second crew member precisely adjusts the laser beam’s strength—higher power to disable vehicles, lower power to knock out, say, a small power generator. The gunner hits ‘fire,’ and the computer takes over from there.

2. Heat Up the Laser
In a fraction of a second, chlorine gas mixes with hydrogen peroxide. The resulting chemical reaction creates highly energetic oxygen molecules. Pressurized nitrogen pushes the oxygen through a fine mist of iodine, transferring the oxygen’s energy to iodine molecules, which shed it in the form of intense light.

3. Amplify the Beam
The optical resonator bounces this light between mirrors, forcing more iodine molecules to cough up their photons, further increasing the laser beam’s intensity. From there, the light travels through a sealed pipe above the weapon’s crew station and into a chamber called the optical bench. There, sensors determine the beam’s quality, while mechanically controlled mirrors compensate for movement of the airplane, vibration and atmospheric conditions. Precise airflow regulates the chamber’s temperature and humidity, which helps keep the beam strong.

4. Stand Clear
A kind of reverse telescope called the beam expander inside a retractable, swiveling pod called the turret widens the beam to 20 inches and aims it. The laser’s computer determines the distance to the target and adjusts the beam so it condenses into a focused point at just the right spot. Tracking computers help make microscopic adjustments to compensate for both the airplane’s and the target’s movement. A burst of a few seconds’ duration will burn a several-inch-wide hole in whatever it hits.

FAQ

How hot is the beam? The laser itself isn’t hot, but it can heat its target to thousands of degrees.

Does the laser sear everything in its path? Yes. If a bird flew into the firing laser’s line of sight—well, no more bird.

Fortunately, the weapon will fire for only a few seconds at a time, minimizing the risk.

Does it melt its target or just set it aflame? That depends on what it hits. It will melt metal, but if the target is combustible, it will burn.

Source:

Air Ops on HMS Ark Royal

Judging from the presence of McDonnell-Douglas F-4 Phanthom fighters, the following video of landings on the British carrier HMS Ark Royal could be more than 20 years old but still a thrill to watch.

Carrier Landings

Naval Air – A-6 Mishap

A retired Navy captain sent me the following account of just another day in the Navy:

“Talk about having a bad day! Or in retrospect, maybe it was a good day after all. This is yet another example of why sailors should stick to driving ships.”

Lieutenant Keith Gallagher’s Account :

On my 26th birthday I was blindsided by a piece of bad luck the size of Texas that should have killed me. Luckily, it was followed immediately by a whole slew of miracles that allowed me to be around for my 27th. Not even Murphy of Murphy’s Law could have conceived of such a bizarre accident!

On the open sea, a third of the way through our cruise, we had the duties on an overhead tanker, making circles in the sky. Although the pattern can be pretty boring, we were alert and maintaining a good lookout doctrine because our air wing had a midair collision less than a week before, and we did not want to have a repeat.

We felt we were ready for ‘any’ emergency : fire warning lights, hydraulic failures and fuel transfer problems. Bring ‘em on ! We were ready for them. After all, how much trouble can two airplanes�get into . . while overhead the ship ?

After my third fuel update call, we decided that the left outboard drop tank was going to require a little help in order to transfer. NATOPS recommends applying positive and negative G to force the faulty valve open. As the pilot pulled the stick back, I wondered how many times we would have to ‘porpoise’ the nose of the plane before the valve opened. As he moved the stick forward, I felt the familiar sensation of negative “G” . . and then something strange happened : my head bumped the canopy.

For a brief moment, I thought that I had failed to tighten my lap belts, but I knew that wasn’t true. Before I could complete that thought, there was a loud bang, followed by wind, noise, disorientation and more wind, wind, wind. Confusion reigned in my mind as I was forced back against my seat, head against the headrest, arms out behind me, the wind roaring in my head, pounding against my body. ” Did the canopy blow off ? Did I eject? Did my windscreen implode?” All of these questions occurred to me amidst the pandemonium in my mind and over my body.

These questions were quickly answered, and replaced by a thousand more, as I looked down and saw a sight that I will never forget: the top of the canopy, close enough to touch, and down through the canopy I could see the top of my pilot’s helmet. It took a few moments for this image to sink into my suddenly overloaded brain. This was worse than I ever could have imagined – I was sitting on top of a flying A-6 !

Pain, confusion, panic, fear and denial surged through my brain and body as a new development occurred to me: I COULDN’T BREATHE ! My helmet and mask had ripped off my head, and without them, the full force of the wind was hitting me square in the face. It was like trying to drink from a high pressure fire hose. I couldn’t seem to get a breath of air amidst the wind. My arms were dragging along behind me until I managed to pull both of them into my chest and hold them there.

I tried to think for a second as I continued my attempts to breathe. For some reason, it never occurred to me that my pilot would be trying to land. I just never thought about it. I finally decided that the thing that I could do was eject. I grabbed the lower handle with both hands and pulled. It wouldn’t budge. With panic induced strength I tried again, but to no avail. The handle wasn’t going to move. I attempted to reach the upper ejection handle, but the wind prevented me from getting a hand on it.

As a matter of fact, all that I could do was hold my arms into my chest. If either of them slid out into the wind stream, they immediately flailed out behind me, and that was definitely not good. The wind had become physically and emotionally overwhelming. It pounded against my face and body like a huge wall of water that wouldn’t stop. The roaring in my ears confused me . . wind pressure in my mouth prevented me from breathing, and the pounding on my eyes kept me from seeing. Time had lost all meaning. For all I knew, I could have been sitting there for seconds or for hours. And I was suffocating, and I couldn’t seem to get a breath.

As I felt myself blacking out, I wish I could say that my last thoughts were of my wife, but all I said was, ” I don’t want to die.”

Then someone turned on the lights . . I had a funny view of the front end of an A-6 . . with jagged plexiglas where my half of the canopy was supposed to be. Looking down from the top of the jet, I was surprised to find the plane had stopped on the flight deck with about 100 people staring up at me. ( I guess expecting to see the pearly gates and some dead relatives.)

My first thought was that we had never taken off . . that something had happened before the catapult. Then everything came flooding back into my brain, the wind, the noise and the confusion. As my pilot then spoke to me and the medical people swarmed all over me, I realized that I was alive.

Then, I found out how lucky I was. My parachute became entangled in the horizontal stabilizer tight enough to act as a shoulder harness for the landing wire trap . . but not tight enough to bind the flight controls on the tail. If this had not happened, I would have been tossed forward into the jagged plexiglas during the trap.

There are many other things that happened . . or didn’t . . that allowed me to survive this mishap. . just inches away from disaster. These little things, and a level headed pilot who reacted quickly and correctly, are the reasons that I am alive and flying today.

Lieutenant Mark Baden’s [ pilot ] account of the incident :

As we finished the brief, my BN (bombardier navigator – Keith Gallagher) told me that it was his birthday and that our recovery would be his 100th trap on the boat. To top it off, we were assigned to my airplane.

As we taxied out of the chocks, I was still feeling a little uneasy about all the recent mishaps that had been happening lately. To make myself feel better, I went through the ’soft catapult shot or engine failure on takeoff’ emergency procedures . . touching each switch or lever as I went over the steps. ” At least if something happens right off the bat, I’ll be ready,” I thought.

The first few minutes of the hop were busy. Concentrating on the fuel package-check and consolidation, as well as trying to keep track of my initial re-fueling customers, dispelled my uneasiness.

As we approached the mission’s mid-cycle, we kept ourselves occupied with fuel quantity checks. We were particularly keeping a close eye on one drop tank that had quit transferring with about 1,000 pounds of fuel remaining inside. I had tried going to override on its pressurization, but that didn’t seem to work. My BN and I discussed the problem and we decided it was probably a stuck float valve. Perhaps some positive then negative G’s would fix it.

We were at 8,000 feet, seven miles abeam the ship, heading aft. I clicked the auto altitude hold to OFF, then added some power to allow us a little more G to play with.

At 230 knots I pulled the stick back and got the plane five degrees nose up. Then, I pushed the stick forward. I got about half a negative G, just enough to float me in the seat. I heard a sharp bang and felt the cockpit instantly depressurize. The roar of the wind followed. I instinctively ducked and looked up�expecting the canopy to be partly open. Instead of seeing a two or three inch gap, the canopy bow was flush with the front of the windscreen. My scan continued right. Instead of meeting my BN’s questioning glance . . I saw a pair of legs at my eye level.

The right side of the canopy was shattered. I followed the legs up and saw the rest of my BN’s body out in the windblast. I watched as his head snapped down . . then back up, and his helmet and oxygen mask vanished. They didn’t seem to fly off . . they just disappeared.

My mind went into fast forward. “What the hell happened ?” I wondered. ” I hope he gets ejected all the way out. What am I going to do now? I NEED TO SLOW DOWN ! ” I jerked the throttles to idle and started the speed brakes out. Without stopping, I reached up, de-isolated, and threw the landing flap lever to�down position. I reached over and grabbed for the IFF selector switch and twisted it to EMERGENCY. And I was screaming to myself : ” Slow down ! Slow down ! ” I glanced up at the airspeed indicator and gave another pull back on the throttles and [max'd] the speed brakes switch. The airspeed was decreasing through 200 knots. The whole time I was doing everything else had been staring back over my shoulder at my bombardier.I felt a strange combination of fear, helplessness and revulsion as I watched his body slam around in the windblast.

After his helmet flew off, his face now looked like the people who get sucked out into zero atmosphere in some of the more graphic movies. He fought for his life as his eyes lids were�blasted open, his cheeks and lips were puffed out to an impossible size, and the tendons in his neck looked like they were about to bust through his skin .

Now at 200 knots, I saw his arms pulled up in front of his face and he� was clawing behind his head. For a moment, I thought he was going to manage to pull his ejection handle and get clear of the plane. I was mentally cheering for him.

His arms got yanked down by the blast, and I cursed as I changed my radio selector switch to button 1 and said : ” Mayday, Mayday, this is 515. My BN has partially ejected. I need an emergency pull-forward ! ” The reply was an immediate, ” Roger. Switch to button six.” I switched frequencies and said [or maybe yelled], ” Boss ( Air Officer ), this is 515. My BN has partially ejected. I need an emergency pull-forward ! ”

In an effort to get slower, I slapped the gear handle down and turned all my fuel dump valves on). The ‘ Boss’ came back in his ever-calm voice and said, ” Bring it on in.”

As I watched, the indexers move from on-speed to a green chevron as I worked the nose to keep the plane as slow as possible and still keep it flying. The plane was holding at around 160 knots airspeed and slowly descending. My BN’s legs were kicking, which gave me some comfort; he was not dead. But, watching his head and body jerked around in the windblast . . being literally beaten to death . . made me ill. I had been arcing [ the aircraft] back and forth around in my descent and was still at seven miles when the Boss came up and asked if the BN was still with the aircraft. I think that I caused a few cases of nausea on deck when I said, ” Only his legs are still inside the cockpit.” It made sense to me, but more than a few people who were listening had visions of two legs and lots of blood and no body. But, the Boss understood what I’d meant.

As I turned in astern, I called the Boss and told him I was six miles behind the boat. I asked how the deck was coming. He asked if I was setting myself up for a straight-in. I told him ” Yes.” He told me to continue.

It was then I noticed that my BN had quit kicking. A chill shot through my body as I looked back at him [ and I saw] what I saw scared me even more. His head was now turned�left and was laying on his shoulder. His face was starting to turn grey. Maybe he’d broken his neck and was now dead ? Bringing back a body that was a friend [ only minutes before ] was not a good thought. After that I forced myself to not to look at him.

About four miles behind the boat, the front windscreen started to fog up. I cranked the defog all the way and was getting ready to wipe off the glass when it finally started clearing. Then, I saw the boat making a hard left turn. I made some disparaging remarks about the guys on the bridge as I rolled into a bank to chase the boat’s centerline.

I heard CAG paddles [ landing signal officer ] came up on the radio. He told the Captain that he would accept the current deck winds and that he needed to steady up the course. My tension eased slightly as I saw “mother” begin to leave her wake in a straight line.

Coming in for landing I was now driving it in level at about 300 feet. I had been in a slight descent and wasn’t willing to add enough power to climb back up to a normal altitude for fear I would have to accelerate and do more physical damage to my already battered BN.

I watched the ball move up to red and then move slowly up towards the center. Paddles called for some rudder and told me not to go high. My scan went immediately to the # 1 [landing] wire. I had no intention of passing up any “perfectly good wires.” I touched down short of the number one wire and I sucked the throttles to idle.

The plastic canopy shards in front of the BN’s chest looked like a butcher knife collection. I was very concerned that the deceleration of catching the [arresting] wire was going to throw him into that jagged edge. I cringed when I didn’t immediately feel the tug of the wire. I pulled the stick into my lap as paddles was calling for it. So I got the nose gear off the deck and felt the hook catch a wire. I breathed a sigh of relief. Testing the spool-up [ acceleration] time of a pair of J-52s engines as I rolled off the [ far ] end of the angled deck was not the way I wanted to end an already bad ‘ hop’.

As soon as I stopped, I set the parking brake and a yellow shirt gave me the signal to kill # 2 engine. Immediately after that, I heard a call over the radio that I was chocked. I killed # 1 and began unstrapping.

As soon as I was free of my seat ( I somehow remembered to ‘ safe’ the ejection seat ) I reached over and ‘ safed’ the BN’s lower ejection handle, undid his lower Koch harness fittings and reached up to try to safety his upper ejection handle.

As I was crawling up, I saw that his upper handle was already ‘ safed.’ I started to release his upper Koch fittings, but decided they were holding him in and I didn’t want him to fall against the razor-sharp plexiglas on his side. So I got back on my side of the cockpit, held his left arm and hand, and waited for the medical people to arrive. I realized he still was alive when he said, ” Am I on the flight deck? ” A wave of indescribable relief washed over me as I talked to him while the crash crew worked to truss him up and ease him out of his seat.

Once he was clear of the plane, they towed me out of the landing area and parked me. By hand, a plane captain bumped my canopy open far enough that I could squeeze out. Without looking back at the plane, I headed straight for medical.

Later, I found that ignorance can be bliss. I didn’t know two things while I was flying. First, the BN’s parachute had deployed and wrapped itself around the tail section of the plane. Then, the BN’s seat timing release mechanism had fired and released the BN from his seat. The only things keeping him in the plane were his parachute risers that holding him against the back of the seat.

[ abridged from an article taken from crew interviews ]

U.S. Navy – This Will Stir Your Heart.

This great bit of hoo rah Navy propaganda is a must see especially if you have ever served in the military. It is apparently from a web site called Great Dane Pro Military which I Googled but found no information as to the individual or group that produces the site. Nevertheless, it’s worth a few minutes to watch with pride. Click on the blue Navy Video and enjoy.

“Cool” Military Photos

Thanks to loyal reader FC for the following web sites showing a collection of “cool” military photos:

http://www.tom-phillips.info/images/cool.pics.military.htm

http://www.tom-phillips.info/images/cool.pics.military.2.htm

http://www.tom-phillips.info/images/cool.pics.military.3.htm

Go Navy! (And those other services too.)