Thursday, January 28, 2010

January 28, 1986

Twenty-four years ago, I sat in my sixth grade classroom. We were not in class very long before Mr. McKay wheeled in a TV and we began watching the truly memorable event on the news (This was long before our school had CNN). What we saw were the early moments of a NASA shuttle launch, something we had all grown used to. In fact my first grade teacher had made sure that we watched the first Shuttle take-off. I remembered the white fuel tank from that mission and did not understand the orange of the fuel tank on this one.

Then, as we watched, something around 28 pairs of eyes did not blink as the voices on the screen talked. Finally they said the words I will never forget: "Challenger, go with throttle up." at that moment, the orbiter, now many miles downrange, but still visible on the television screen, disappeared into a strange puffy cloud from which emerged, a half second later, the solid rocket boosters. They continued in oddly stable paths across the sky.

I will never forget that day. I don't remember how long we watched it, but I think we did eventually get on with lessons that day. I never liked Mr. McKay much, I thought he picked on me. I know better now. I am glad he wheeled that big old TV in and let us watch the event. It was something I doubt I will ever forget.


Then, seventeen years later, on a February morning almost to the day, the Space shuttle Columbia fell Earthward. I was living in Northern California at the time, and had I been awake, I may have seen the incoming orbiter as it raced through the atmosphere. Its path was not far from our area. At the time our alarm played the radio to wake us up. The voices brought us from our sleep with the words that everyone would remember this day. I don't know if my Columbia memory will ever have the same clarity that I have for Challenger, but I hope we all take a glance at the sky today to remember all those astronauts who have given their lives today.

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Movie- Lost Missile- 1958

An "Alien Missile" has found it's way to earth and the Soviets have diverted it across the North Pole. It has behind it a 1,000,000 degree heat blast. How do we stop it before it incinerates the world? This movie, while less than wonderful in plot, is a wonderful view into the world view of America circa 1957/8. It also shows what a Project Pluto type missile might do, albeit, with heat effects rather than radiation.

During the movie you get introduced to the DEW line (Distant Early Warning) and SAGE system. At one point the screen shows an F-89 which is intercepting the "missile." in the next ten seconds the screen shows the F-89, an F-86, an F-84, an F-94, and an F-100, all purporting to be the same aircraft.

This movie, while striving to be a Sci-Fi flick only manages to be a thinly disguised demonstration of how well the US was prepared for the unthinkable. While not great for action or drama, it does show video of the various types of aircraft and air defense hardware available at the time. They even show the Nike Missile System. It also explains, in words the civilian could understand, what each part did. You will see Hawker Hunters, Canadian CF-100s, B-52s, B-36s, B-47s, F-102s, and more.

You can also see the thorough (NOT) understanding of radioactivity that the writers had. The hero dies because he was within a few feet of some plutonium unprotected. It is something that can be chuckled at now, but it must have been scary then.

You can see it all on hulu right now. It is definitely worth a viewing for those of you interested in Cold War History. Enjoy!

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

LCS by General Dynamics!


It has been awhile since I last posted, but suffice it to say that the holidays have seen me more busy than usual. To break the silence, I would like to point you to the General Dynamics site. Yes, the same company that built the F-16 Fighting Falcon. They also deal in ships (Same way as Lockheed/Martin and Northrop/Grumman). I am sorry to say this has little to do with Washington State, but I hope you will indulge me...besides, we have littoral waters that this ship could defend!

Yes, that is a Trimaran configuration. It is meant for littoral combat and patrol. (That means close to the shore) A generous GD employee, doubtless seeking publicity for the company, sent me a link to some videos of this new ship underway. There are two classes. One with the lead ship of Freedom and the other with the lead ship of Independence. This is the Independence. Have a look and we will overlook the possibility that I may be helping "The Man" by acknowledging that this thing is damned cool. (this site remains advertising free, however, if you represent a government body interested in this weapons system and you buy one of these things, feel free to advise GD to send a few bucks my way- see, History guys CAN have a sense of humor )

Thank you Mr. Kello of General Dynamics!

Friday, December 11, 2009

F-106 #59-022, Raymond, Washington, October 3, 1967

(Photo of #59-022, from Marty Isham Collection via http://www.f-106deltadart.com [I shamelessly heisted it, but you should definitely stop by this site, since they are the penultimate experts on all things F-106!])
The F-106 was a wonderful craft. It could dog-fight. It could go supersonic and reach incredible altitudes. It was equipped with the amazing MA-1 fire control system, which, hooked into the SAGE network could guide it to a target and fire its weapons almost completely automatically. In its almost 40 years, it had the best safety record of all Air Force single engine aircraft, still, of the 340 aircraft built, 112 were lost in operational accidents, either on the ground or in the air.

In the late 1960s, the F-106 fleet had been selected to be modified with Supersonic external fuel tanks and in-flight refueling equipment. This was begun in 1967. The first of the sixes to obtain these modifications were Washington State based sixes. On October 3, 1967, F-106A, #59-022 was scheduled for a functional test flight after having these modifications.

Major Richard S. Petersen was assigned. He filed a DD form 175 (IFR flight plan, or Instrument Flight Rules[indicates he would be using instruments and electronic means to fly the aircraft, usually used in poor weather, rather than visual flight rules used in clear air]) at the Base Operations as LK 19 (Lima Kilo 19). The estimated departure time was 1700Z, or 1000 local, for an hour and 15 minute test hop. He began his weather briefing at about a quarter to 0845 (1545z). The weather at McChord was 1000 feet scattered, 4500 scattered, and 7000 broken, with 15 miles visibility. Forecast was 800 broken, 4000 broken, and 7000 overcast with visibilty at 7 miles with light rain. He got a weather waiver from the deputy commander for flight operations (This indicates that it probably wasn't a big deal to fly in weather, since the waiver was given). Clearance was filed at 1556Z (0856 PST), a little over an hour ahead of scheduled departure.

Petersen went to the Fighter Squadron, donned his flight gear and proceeded to the flight line. He did his walk around and began his preflight. After engine start, though, he told the crew chief that the attitude director indicator (ADI) would not erect properly. An instrument technician was sent to the aircraft. He replaced the ADI power supply. Satisfied with the aircraft, the pilot taxied out and began his check lists, now 46 minutes behind schedule (1046).

Lima Kilo 19 was cleared to flight level 360, or 36,000 feet. departure instructions were to turn right to a heading of 288 and maintain 4000 feet until he was 7 miles west. When he reached this point he was cleared by RAPCON to climb to his assigned altitude. He was handed of to Seattle Center and then to ADC Control (landferry) when he was appoximatel;y 20 nautical miles south of Neah Bay for flight monitoring. Landferry cleared LK 19 for his supersonic run on a heading of 150, parallel to the shore, but at 20 miles out.

Lima Kilo 19 requested a 75 mile extension to his supersonic leg. When asked, he reported that his speed was mach 1.3 at 40,000 feet. At 1116 local, Lima Kilo 19 reported that he could not obtain mach and requested a recovery vector. The vector given was 040. He was cleared to descend to FL310 when he requested it. Seattle Center assumed control at 1122 and cleared LK19 to descend to 5000 feet.

At 1122:11 Petersen acknowledged the descent and reported out of 31000. Seven seconds later he told Seattle Center that he, "Would like a minimum of turns on the letdown 'til I can go VFR. I've lost my flight instruments, ..uh..attitude indicator tape." (most F-106s were equipped with vertical tape instruments that were supposed to be easier to read than traditional circular types. Supposed;y they could give more information faster than the traditional type) Two minutes later Petersen advised Seattle Center that he had, "lost all flight instruments of...sh...in a descent at this time--and I'd sorta like to bail out of this thing." The time was 1124:55. This was the last transmission that Lima Kilo 19 made.

Radar plots indicated that he was making a right turn from an Easterly heading to a Westerly heading. The aircraft crashed in an open field in a very steep attitude, the accident report estimated it at 60 degrees nose down. The final heading, on impact was turning right at 061 degrees, putting it on a South West track at that time. Major Petersen did eject, but unsuccessfully. The Canopy, the seat, and his body was discovered about 1/3 of a mile to the Southwest on a hill about 300 feet about the aircraft. The aircraft hit near Raymond Washington.

The weather was mostly cloudy if one reads the forecast correctly. Given the fact that he was cleared for Instrument Flight Rules, and his wish to obtain Visual Flight Rules conditions, it seems likely that his instruments were either giving him faulty or no reading at all. In that sort of environment, there is no horizon to gage attitude by. The motion of the aircraft is enough to over-ride the human cochlea and it is easy to think you are going in the right direction when you are not. Major Petersen seemed completely aware of this and was quite ready to depart the aircraft when his instruments began to go south.

Early F-106 ejection seats were notorious for poor performance. The early seats had been replaced by the "B" seat and finally by the "Zero-Zero" seat. This meant that it could safely take its occupant away from the airframe at Zero Altitude and Zero Speed. By 1967 most of the kinks had been worked out and the "Zero-Zero" seat had been fitted to the entire fleet.

It would appear that bad luck had been a large factor in Major Petersen's demise. First, bad luck that his instruments failed TWICE. Then that he was unable to complete his entire mach run. And, when his instruments failed a second time, his aircraft was in "the soup" (or bad weather) and he could not visually determine the attitude of his aircraft to bring it in safely. Finally, when he DID eject, something (and this accident report fails to identify what) caused him to sustain injuries that killed him.

The Convair F-106 Delta Dart was the interceptor that kept American skies clear of Communist aggressors for almost 40 years. It served with distinction, but never fired a shot in anger. After it was retired the majority of the survivors suffered the semi-inglorious fate of being used as targets. Some defend this as the most noble end for a FIGHTER, they consider it a better fate than sitting on a pole. Others may be saddened that a jet that kept America safe for so long suffered such an indignity. Either way, the SIX was a fighter no matter which side you land on. There are enough that remain today on display that most people will be able to see one in person if they don't mind a short drive.




Sources:

Accident report for #59-022 obtained from USAF.


Monday, December 7, 2009

Sunday, November 29, 2009

P-38H #42-66767, Ellensburg AAF AND Paine AAF. December 1943

Some people have bad luck; we called them unlucky. Some vehicles have bad luck; we call them lemons, especially when dealing with cars. What do you call an aircraft with bad luck, though? P-38H #42-66767 might fall into the category of an unlucky airplane. What about a group of machines built at about the same time? #42-66767’s siblings might also fall into this category, but more on them later. Aircraft #42-66767 was a P-38H-5 LO.

First, a little information about military aircraft designations. When a company gets approved to produce a new aircraft, that company produces a first example. In some cases, two or three. These are usually given designations beginning with X, basically indicating the aircraft was experimental. So the first P-38 would have been the XP-38. During that era, the first few production/service examples were given a designation beginning with Y, meaning these were prototypes. So the first few P-38s were YP-38s. The first model of an aircraft to see service, that is full service, is usually followed by A, so there was a P-38A. When the designers make improvements that are major, the aircraft undergoes a model change. The P-38H was a result of many improvements on the original P-38A. Sometimes, during a production run, minor changes or improvements are implemented. If they do not entail a model change, these improvements are marked by block numbers. Block numbers are a way to keep track of minor improvements since the first new model. Usually they jump by five, so the second block would be -5, then -10, then -15, however, that was not always the case. Sometimes these block numbers were followed by letters designating the factory at which the aircraft was constructed. A B-29A -10 BW would have been the third block built at the Boeing Witchita plant. So, P-38H-5 LO #42-66767 had minor differences from the earlier P-38H blocks. LO stood for the Lockheed plant.

P-38H-5 LO #42-66767 was assigned to Ellensburg Army Air Field. At the time, the field was used for training. On the first day of December, 1943, 66767 had already been up twice with two different pilots when Flight Officer Russell W. Senger got into her for a local gunnery mission at a little after 4pm local time. He went through his check lists and then taxied out to the active runway and took off as part of a four ship flight. The aircraft had been checked out and was considered airworthy, which she was. At about 5:30, Senger landed safely on Runway 29. His flight was cleared to taxi. It was 1734 hours, or 5:34pm. At that time of year in Central Washington it begins to get dark at about 4:30pm (in fact as this is being written, November 29, 2009, it is now 5:22pm and I consider it to be completely dark outside). It was well into dusk then, when Senger began taxiing back to the parking area. He had only go about 600 feet when the right main gear left the taxiway and entered a drainage ditch, which was about 4 ½ feet deep. The pilot could not right the situation once it had happened, and momentum carried it another 100 feet where it stopped at a right angle to the taxiway. A P-38 pilot taxiing behind him notified the tower of the accident. The accident board attributed it as 75% pilot error (carelessness) and 25% taxiway construction. They recommended painting marker lines on the taxiway.

Normally, that would be the end of an article like this. The aircraft would have been repaired and sent back to service. However, 66767 was an unfortunate aircraft. 66767’s nosewheel had been damaged in the December 1st accident. A group of workmen from the 32nd sub-depot at Paine Field replaced the entire assembly. However, they were unable to repair the nosewheel door because there was no sheet metal shop facilities at Ellensburg AAF. The Engineering officer decided to have her flown the short distance to the 32nd sub-depot at Paine Field with her wheels locked down.

The gear handle was placed in down and safetied (Captain Laven’s account says it was safetied with wire). The main landing gear shut-off valve was closed to prevent an inadvertant gear-raising. Captain George Laven, Jr. was chosen to fly the aircraft to Paine Field on December 29, 1943. He took off at 3:48pm and encountered no trouble during the flight, except that the propeller on the left engine went out and he had to set to the manual position (What he meant by that was probably the variable pitch propeller was not operating automatically, so he had to operate it manually). He entered the landing pattern at Paine Field at about 4:30pm. Everything was normal until about 200 yards into the landing roll when he felt the ship turning right. He applied left brake, but the ship continued to pull right. He looked over and noticed that the right wing was lowering and felt the ship settle in that direction. He knew then that the right gear was collapsing and so as much left brake as he could to ease the turn. As soon as it left the runway he shut off the booster pumps, batteries, and mixture controls. When the ship stopped he exited the aircraft, no doubt, with alacrity.

First Lieutenant Robert W. Campbell, assistant operations officer at Paine Field, witnessed Laven enter the pattern and land. He watched as the right gear began to collapse and the plane veared off the runway. He jumped in a vehicle and headed for the scene of the accident. When he arrived the pilot was out of the aircraft.

The accident board discovered that the “right landing gear locking pin had been screwed down too far.” This prevented the gear from completely locking. The shut-off valve had also been shut in cold weather on the eastern side of the state while cold oil was still in the line bewteen the main gear and the actuating cylinder. The oil became heated due to engine temperatures and the warmer external air temperatures of the coastal climate over Everett, Washington. The heat expanded the oil sufficiently to partially move the actuating cylinder enough to dislodge the locking pin. The shock of landing and Laven’s application of brakes put enough force on the gear to retract.

As a result of this accident both engines were damaged by sudden stoppage. Three propeller blades were bent. The lower stabilizer and rudder were bent and crushed. Relatively minor dame considering.

I do not have information concerning what happened to 66767 after this. Given the amount of damage described in the report, it seems she was probably repaired and went on to lead a productive life, perhaps eventually becoming a part of the soda can we drink from, or perhaps she eventually made her way overseas and saw a different end. We may never know.

That 66767 was unlucky, may remain to be seen, since the damage she sustained was minimal and she could be returned to flying status. That her sisters were unlucky is no joke. #42-66775, #42-66768, and #42-66778 all met similar fates. I will write of them at a later date, though.

Sources:

Accident reports for #42-66767, dates: 12-1-1943 and 12-28-1943.

Fighter Planes, http://www.fighter-planes.com/info/p38_lightning.htm