Updated from 2014: Guns, Eagle Style

 

A while back (Ok, quite a while back, like 12 years or so), Murphy’s Law was pining away about how he was going to spend his lottery winnings and buy an F-86.  A worthwhile expenditure to be sure, but MSgt B joined the discussion with a comment about knowing a guy on Okinawa that had one that he used to tow targets for the F-15s. 

 

This would be that Tow Plane
Photo copied from Here

 

And that comment fired the synapses that bring forth this story.

So, There I was……*  I’m at Kadena having been checked out in an F-15 in the short course  at Luke AFB, 3 months and probably about 50 hours. Soloing in a jet on your first ride is thought provoking that’s for sure.  At least they save the AB takeoff until a little bit later.  Release brakes and punch it is eye opening.  Even on a hot Arizona afternoon, by the  time you’ve checked the engines, (Why?  I’m mean really, it’s quite obvious to the most casual observer they are functioning beautifully), anyhow, by the time you check the engines, you’re at rotate speed.  A small touch of the stick and you’re airborne, you keep pulling on the stick to keep the airspeed under control (yeah right) and avoid over speeding the gear.  Slap them up, and you’re still pulling back on the pole waiting for the gear light to go out.  You’re now about 45 degrees nose high and tower tells you to contact departure.  (Phoenix is a busy place airspace wise).  You’re still pulling as you contact departure and they tell you to level at 18000’.  You think, piece of cake, until you look at the altimeter.  A quick increase of the g, and your vertical climb turns into an immelman and you’re level, inverted but level, at 18000’.  You’re first cognitive thought is “Gawd, what an airplane!”

 

 

Source

It's somewhat like this!

So, anyhow, I’m now at Kadena, been there a couple of months, deployed to Kwanju for Team Spirit, so kind of settling in.  My flight commander, in a rare turn of events, happened to be one of my students at Holloman.  He’d been an F-4 WSO and been selected for Pilot Training.  Got an F-15 as his assignment, gone through Holloman and had been at Kadena for about 2 and a half years. Pretty good guy and a decent stick. Let’s call him Jeff.  The schedule has been posted and I’ve got the first go flying on Jeff’s wing for a Dart ride.

Juvat, what is a Dart ride?  Words do not convey what a Dart Ride is.  Take all the awesomeness of flying the F-15, break out your awesomizer ray gun (you have one of those don’t you?) and run it completely out of awesomizer stuff, and you might have a description of a Dart Ride.  Ok, I might have gotten a little carried away on that.

A Dart Ride is an opportunity to take a pair of F-15 Eagles and shoot the  M-61 Vulcan 20mm 6 barrel cannon at an airborne target!  6000 rounds a minute.  A 100 rounds a second. 954 rounds on board, well, fully loaded. We get 200.

I’ve fired on the Dart before and frankly had a problem.  Coming from an Air to Ground background, I’d learned to strafe and shooting the gun in a strafe mission is different than shooting the gun on an Air to Air mission.  In a strafe mission, killing the bad guy is a good thing, but there are usually a lot of them, so keeping their heads down and disrupting their plan is also important.  So, in a strafing pass, you usually try to fire as few rounds as possible.  20 rounds or so is desirable, all on target of course.  Not so in air to air.

In Dan Hampton’s book “Lords of the Sky: Fighter Pilots and Air Combat, from the Red Baron to the F-16” (Available on Amazon, a great book, you should read it)  his description of the various aircraft includes a description of the firing rate, number of guns and weight of the round and adds a number that tells you the total amount of metal the aircraft throws at the opponent. That took me a while to learn.  Strafe, you squeezed the trigger and released, then the gun fired.  Here, you needed to squeeze until you heard the gun and then release.  You really wanted about a hundred rounds each time.  Bullet density is going to kill the target.

Jeff and I have the first flight of the day, we’ll actually take off before sunrise, so our brief starts about 0400.  We’re about ready to step to the jets, and I copy down our tail numbers.  I notice that the tail number assigned to me is the jet with my name painted on the side.  (“My jet” is not acceptable vernacular around here and calling it "The Crew Chief’s Jet" while technically true does not convey the meaning I desire.)  It is a great jet, Radar works well, it flies well, straight and true which is not always the case.  The crew chief and assistant crew chief are good at what they do and I have a good relationship with them.  Things are just falling into place.

 

This one had my name on the canopy rail and ZZ on the tail at one time! AKA "My Jet!"

 

It’s starting to get light as we start the jets and it looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky, light winds, and good visibility.  We’re in the arming area, with the gun safety pin and warning  flag showing, telling the arming crew that we’re going shooting. On more normal missions, the safety pin is inserted inside the gun door, so doesn't interfere with flight.  Guns hot, master arm switch triple checked off,  we take the runway.
 

Departure from Kadena was easy.  Take off, put the gear up, turn toward your assigned airspace and once over water, cleared all altitudes.  We’re taking off about 10 minutes ahead of our target as we have to perform the safety check and make sure there are no surface vessels in the area.  Typically, we would climb to a medium high altitude ~25000’ or so, but not today. 

Today, as soon as we get feet wet, Jeff sends me out to tactical spread formation, about 9000’ line abreast and with an altitude split of a couple thousand feet.  I move out and start to climb a bit, but he’s pushing over and levels off at about 500’.  In a low level situation, the wingman does not take an altitude separation so as to not highlight the formation, so I level off with Jeff on the Horizon.  I notice that Jeff has not pulled the power back either, we’re still in military power, so the ocean is passing by at a great rate.

We’re approaching the eastern edge of the operating area, the sun is beginning its climb and we hear the target check in on the frequency.  Today, we’re not using any GCI, to help us with the intercept, we’ll be relying on our own  radar to handle that.  Jeff has briefed that first radar contact will run the intercept and first visual gets first shot.  Not all flight leads are that lenient. 

The target calls that he’s in the area and we are cleared to turn hot.  Still headed east, I notice Jeff’s burner’s light.  This is not hard, as it is still dark enough to see the bright white streak coming out of the back of his jet.  I light mine and am instantly through the Mach.  I watch Jeff begin to pull and I match him in a gigantic accelerating immelman, rolling out headed west at 38000’.  I glance at the radar and have a contact about 70 miles on the nose, check the squawk and it’s our target.  I get to run the intercept.

He’s at 20k and as we get to about 40 mile range, I get the "Reno" (I've got a target formation breakout on my radar) on the actual thing we’re going to shoot, the dart about 1500’ in trail of the F-86.  That’s a great advantage, since when we get to lockon range, I can lockon to the actual target and the target box on my Heads Up Display will appear over it instead of the F-86.

Source

 

 

We’re still in the high 30’s when we get to lockon range.  I lock and my jet’s systems are spot on.  I catch a flash of sunlight off the dart and can make out the F-86 also.  I call visual, Jeff and the target call No Joy.  I talk Jeff’s eyes on the target and am starting my vertical conversion and tell the target to start the turn and look up.  I pop a flare.  (We can’t shoot unless he sees us)  All have a tally and we’re cleared hot.  

 
Master arm hot.  Finger off the trigger (Rule 3 applies).  I’m now almost vertical in my dive and he’s slightly off the right side of my nose.  He’s got two choices, turn into me, which would put him on Jeff’s nose or turn away from me, putting him on my nose.  At this point it really doesn’t matter, I am pulling lead by rolling the jet and he can’t deny me turning room as I’m well above him.  He turns away from me, I make a small roll to establish lead and begin the pull out of the dive as I close the range.

The pipper is settling down and the range is closing rapidly, I’m in gun range ~2500’, but pause.  I’d been making that mistake before, and didn't intend to make it again.  1500’, one last check of master arm.  It’s hot, finger on the trigger. 1200’ Squeeze and hold.  The pipper is dead steady as I hear the Gun fire.  Release the trigger and pull on the stick, still have a lot of overtake, so immediately roll to keep the target it sight.  Look back high to find Jeff and prepare to reattack when out of the corner of my eye, I see an amazing array of flashes.  The target had disintegrated and all the tinfoil parts were fluttering in the sunlight like little mirrors as they made their way to the ocean. 

Tow pilot calls “knock it off”, and we clear out of the way.  Without the aerodynamics of the dart to stabilize the cable, he needs to jettison it quickly before it has a chance to do anything bad.  He lets it go, and we head home.  Jeff does a quick battle damage check of me,  nothing, and because it’s required, I do one on him.  Not surprisingly, he’s fine. 

I, however, am higher than a kite.  I’m ready to take on anybody and everybody.  We pitch out, land, dearm and debrief the jets with maintenance.  Pull the VCR Tape and invite the crew chief and assistant to the flight debrief to watch some “really cool S**t!”.  Walking back to the Squadron, Jeff tells me I owe him a beer since he didn't get to shoot, but , he says, “I just wanted to do that once with someone who didn't start in an Eagle, someone who might recognize just how much better this jet is than anything flying.  Guess I did!”

*What's the difference between a fairy tale and a war story, a fairy tale begins "once upon a time.  A war story begins "so, there I was".

Updated from 2014: Customs, Courtesies and Beanies

 Happy Birthday, you old (well...you know what).  Hope you have a great day and many more.

In any case sorry, another rerun. I've got a lot of things going on over the next couple of weeks, so I'm searching my archives for stories from quite a while ago that only the true, and long timer Sarge fans will have read.

So,  There I was……* Flying the F-15 at Kadena and a pinned on Major and Flight Commander.  I’ve spent the last 3 weeks deployed to Kwang Ju AB ROK to provide Air Defense for the Seoul Olympics.  I was in charge of 6 pilots, a flight surgeon and a maintenance detachment. Our mission was to ensure if the Kim family wanted to provide an airshow on international television, that there would be an F-15 in close formation and another one in trail with locked on missiles.  A future post will provide more details about that deployment. 

Not exactly  the formation we'd have flown.  the farside guy would have been directly astern, just outside min range for each missile. The near side guy would have been close enough that it would be difficult to get a TV shot without him in it
Source:Commons.Wikipedia.org

 

This post will be about a comment I’d made on one of Sarge’s posts from long ago which went “the only thing more dangerous than a 19 year old with a gun is a 19 year old with a gun, a badge and a beanie.”  There was good discussion on that post about peace officers vs police and good police officers vs “badge heavy” members of the police.  As Sarge says, go read it, I’ll wait. This post describes the incident where I came to realize the truth in my "gun, badge, beanie" statement.

It’s Sunday morning, 4 of the 5 Eagles had redeployed the day before, but one had a problem on start and had taken the rest of the day to fix.  We had gotten it fixed, but it was too late to deploy so we spent an additional day.  I stayed behind and will be flying the jet back.  It’s a beautiful day and I’m making good time.  Got the radar run out to max range, and as far as I can tell, I’m the only person airborne in the whole world at this time.  Ahhhh!  I’ve been handed off to Fukuoka control and diplomatically made contact.  After a Time, I’ve been handed off to Kadena’s Approach Control.  I can see the island and the runway from a long way away, so am intending to do an overhead and land.  I’m about 15 minutes out, so contact the tower and let them know I’m coming in and would they contact maintenance and customs to let them know, please?

 

A 67FS Eagle at Red Flag Alaska (Aim-9 on Left Outboard, AMRAAM on left inboard and an ACMI pod on right outboard)
Source: en.wikipedia.org

Pitch out and land, go through dearm and back in to the shelter.  Crew chief marshals me in, and gives me the shutdown signal.  I cut the throttle and when the last engine winds down, turn everything off and climb down the ladder handing my A-3 bag down to the crew chief.  We discuss what had happened to the jet and what it’s status was for the flight down, and he starts to do whatever it is that crew chiefs do to get the airplane ready for what’s next.  I glance at my watch, it’s been about 10 minutes since shutdown.  No Customs.  Not unusual, though, they sometimes get busy with inbound MAC flights.  I hadn’t seen anything on Radar, or heard any radio, but…

The crew chief finishes putting the jet to bed, and the line chief comes by in the bread van to pick him up.  Offers me a lift, but I tell him I can’t, customs hasn’t come by.  Would he mind giving them a call when he gets in to the maintenance shack, please?  No problem.  Now been 30 minutes since shut down. 

I sit down on my A-3 bag and cool my heels for a bit, when I see a car drive up in the squadron parking lot and my wife and 4 year old son get out.  They walk up to the red line and ask what’s happening.  I respond with BTHOM, I’m waiting on customs.  It was not unheard of that customs would not show up.  It had happened a time or two.  I decide I’ll give them another 15 minutes to make it an even hour.

 

Where it all went down, at the cross intersection in front of the shelter.
Source: Google Maps

I ask her how everything’s going, she says little Juvat is running a fever, ear infection or something.  As the clock is ticking, one of Kadena’s famous torrential downbursts is headed our way, I tell the wife to get back in the car and then sprint back and climb under the jet.  It provides some protection, but I get wet. 

Well, it’s now an hour.  I grab my bag and walk off to the Squadron.  As I exit the flight line, a little blue truck comes speeding up and slams to a stop right in front of me and out jumps this spiffy A1C.  All shiny boots and beret creased to adhere to the side of his head.  He asks me where I think I’m going and why did I leave the secure area before being cleared by customs AKA himself?  How was he supposed to make sure I hadn’t brought back drugs or any other contraband?  He was afraid he was going to have to detain me. (In Well Seasoned Fool’s vernacular, he’s “badge heavy”.)

I think I smiled before responding.

I stated that if he detained me, that would raise questions about where customs had been for the last hour and ten minutes. Since he had stated that making sure Pilots didn’t bring back drugs or other contraband was their mission, didn’t that absence represent dereliction of duty on his part. Clearly had I wanted to smuggle drugs, his not being present to intercept them meant he had failed in his duty.  I then responded, if he wanted, he could inspect my A-3 bag, otherwise, I was proceeding to the squadron.

Walk in to the Squadron, hang up my flight gear and notice the Boss is in.  Knock on his door and ask if I can have a moment of his time.  I explain what had happened.  He tells me to go home and not worry about it.  Well…

I get home, and as we walk in, the phone is ringing.  It’s Sgt Schmuckatelli, the NCOIC of the customs detachment.  He requests that I report to the detachment for customs evasion. I call the Boss who’s now at home.  He tells me to come over while he makes some calls.  We share a back yard, it’s not far.  

His wife lets me in as he’s on the phone.  His side of the conversation goes like this “Bob, how long should my guys have to wait before customs shows up at the jet…..Yeah, I know they shouldn’t, but suppose a MAC flight had just landed?....10 minutes… would 15 minutes be out of line?.....How about 30 minutes?...It would?….How about 45?.....One of my guys just waited over an hour……”

The conversation devolved from there….

He hangs up and says “Listen Up…Report to the Customs Det.  Do NOT sign any papers.  Do not give them your ID or anything of yours.  Do not make any statements.  Do not answer any questions.  Do you have any questions about the directives I've given you?”

No sir!

I show up at the detachment, and the NCOIC says “Give me your ID!”  I look at him quizzically.  He says “What?”  I respond, “Last I checked, I’m an officer and you’re not.  I haven’t been charged with anything, so protocol would say you should amend that last statement to be “May I have your ID, please sir?” 

Well, if you’re going down, go down fighting.

He says, “May I have your ID, please…sir?”

I respond “Unfortunately, Sergeant, my Commander has expressly ordered me not to give you my ID or any other items.”

“Well, we’ll need you to sign this statement.”

“Unfortunately, Sergeant, my Commander has expressly ordered me not to sign any papers whatsoever.”

“We need to ask you some questions!”

“Unfortunately, Sergeant, my Commander has expressly ordered me not to answer any questions.”

“Would you please wait here while I get this straightened out, then?”

“Of Course”

I’m sitting there cooling my heels when I notice a gym bag by the desk with my favorite A1C’s name on it.  It’s open with some Gym clothes spread out, drying off.  Hmmm.  I also notice the Sunday Stars and Stripes beside it.  I grab it and start reading the comics.  

Finish them and begin the NY Times crossword puzzle.  In ink.  In walks the Airman.  He says, “What are you doing?”  “The crossword puzzle, how was your run this morning?”  His eyes flash to the bag and gym clothes.  Mumbles something under his breath and walks out.

 Shortly thereafter, the NCOIC comes in and says I can go, but “don’t do this again.”  I briefly consider asking what “this” was, but decide discretion is the better part of valor and wish them a good day.

It got very stupid from there.  A few weeks later, we deploy to the PI.  On RTB, I fly via MAC and go through customs at the terminal.  They squeezed the toothpaste out of the tube.  The next deployment, I fly back, they open up all the panels on my jet.  The following deployment, having had about all the fun I can stand and since I’m MAC’ing back, I pack all my laundry in to a box and mail it back to Kadena.  At the time, overseas APO to APO mail didn’t cost anything.  In fact, I recognized the box on a pallet in the back of the same 141 I was riding home.  I get off the jet at the terminal, and walk right up to the processing line.  An Airman says, “Sir, you can’t go through yet, the bags haven’t been unloaded.”  I respond, “I don’t have any bags.”  “How long were you gone?”  “2 weeks”  “Where’s your laundry?”  “In the mail”  “How are we supposed to inspect that?”  “Not my problem!”  and walked out the door.

I’m not the only guy getting the treatment, and the rumblings are starting to get loud.

 Again, we deploy to Cope Thunder.  Towards the end of the deployment, there’s a bit of a security hubbub.  Seems one of the classified avionics boxes is missing from the nose of one of the jets.  Nobody can seem to find it.  We redeploy the next day and my wingman is the one star Air Division commander.  No big deal, within the structure of a Major to Brigadier General relationship, he’s a pretty nice guy.  A good stick, he just wants to fly wing today. 

 

This is obviously not 24 Eagles, nor would they use this formation on Initial, Just thought it was a cool picture.
Source:Commons.Wikipedia.org

We bring the entire squadron down initial pitch out and land.  Dearm and instead of heading to the shelters, we’re directed to park in front of the tower.  

Hmmm.  

Lot’s of vehicles in the area.  We get the jets all shut down, unload our bags and are looking for the bread vans to take us to the squadron.  Instead we get told to form up with our bags, we’re going to get searched for the  missing equipment.  I’m standing next to the General, and look over at him, he gives me the stay quiet sign.  I nod.  

The Airman works his way down the line.  Opens my bag, he doesn't see the 4’ X 2’ X 1’ 125 lb box in amongst my dirty laundry and proceeds to start patting me down.  Strangely enough,  he doesn't find it on my person either. 

 

This is from an F-15 E, but the layout is similar to the C model.  The circle is a bit larger than 4' in diameter,  The missing box is from the bay behind it.  It is NOT going to be found in a flight suit pocket.
Source: en.wikipedia.org

The General is standing right next to me, his bag on the other side, so the Airman begins patting him down.  As he progresses up his leg, side, under side of his arm, top side of his arm to his shoulder where he notices a star and goes white as a sheet.  “Sir, you don’t have to be here.” 

“On the contrary, Son, there is nowhere on earth more important for me to be than right here, right now.”

“Would you do me the courtesy of passing a message to your Commander, your OIC, NCOIC, and the OSI Detachment Chief, inviting them to my office tomorrow morning at 0700, please?”

We never had a problem with Customs after that.

* War Stories begin this way, and while these events all happened, minor details may have been lost to memory.

**BTW to the US Postal Service.  Important note:  re: your current commercial. This is not Your Season! 
It belongs to a child born 2000+ years ago, who proclaimed "Love the Lord, Your God, with your whole heart, your whole mind and your whole soul, and love your neighbor as yourself."  It's a hard discipline, but would more people adhere to it (it's the second part that negates the first), the world would be a better place.

Again, this post including the postscripts was from 12 years ago, one hopes the Postal Service got it's act together.  But....I'm not going to hold my breath. 

Okinawa Eagles

 Well, as many of you long time readers of Sarge's Blog are aware, my last flying assignment in Uncle Sam's Air Force was at Kadena AB, Okinawa Japan.  I have a bit of history with Okinawa.  My Dad was an F-86D driver in the mid-50's. 

F-86D

tvd.im

 I was born while he was stationed at Hamilton AFB, Novato California.  That was also where he met and married my mother.

( ;-) BTW those two sentences are not in chronological order! ) 

In any case, after he'd completed that assignment, he was assigned to Okinawa, still flying the F-86.  Mom and I followed.  My sister, Lisa, was born there.  Getting her officially recorded as an American Citizen took some doing, but that story fits in a different post.

Back on Topic, juvat!  

Aye, Sarge!

I have a few dim memories of that tour.  However,  in the late 80's, Mrs J (aka Captain Mrs J) and  I were assigned to the 18TFW, an F-15 Wing.  This tour I remember with sweet memories.  Two Reasons...Our daughter continued the Juvat family tradition of one of the female children being born in Okinawa. Second, I got to fly the best Fighter in the World at that time.  Supersonic flight was authorized when you got over the Pacific.  Which was about a half mile off the end of the runway.

Yes, Beans, the flying was magnificent.  But, back to the story.

Our Daughter had to be "Naturalized" as an American Citizen. But anyhow.....you know where this post is going, right?

We got her naturalized.

The assignment had a lot of good flying, but it also had a lot of down time activities.  Military Airlift Command (MAC) was very active in the region, so hopping a ride with family around the Pacific wasn't difficult.  The family has been to Hong Kong, the Phillipines, mainland Japan, Korea, and several other places.  Damn, I loved the Air Force!

During the in-processing briefings we were required to attend when we PCS'd to Kadena, we had one on the history of WWII on Okinawa.  One of the many things that I paid attention to was not to walk in the jungle.  There aren't lions, tigers or bears there, but there are booby traps and land mines that might still be around.

I paid attention to that, and made sure my, now walking, son understood also! But, it turns out, the jungle wasn't the only thing to be concerned about.

One of the off time activities I took up was scuba diving.  The water off Okinawa was crystal clear.  It was a 5 dive checkout and we did it off 5 different beaches. Different currents, different temperatures, different depths, all good training factors for a check ride.

 

 

 Now, Kadena AB is on the left side of the island, where the 4 invasion arrows are pointed.  The water there is very clear and that's where the lessons were held.

We're out there swimming around doing our exercises. (Taking off our masks, putting them back on, and clearing out the water was a frequent/common one.  A good thing to know how to do.  You don't need to until you do, then you need to do it correctly and immediately).

 Short interruption to clarify some data.  Our instructor while a certified and available instructor was a civilian who listened to radio transmissions from, oh say, China or North Korea.  8 hours a day, 5 days a week, three year tour.

Yeah, he was a bit odd!

In any case,  he's our instructor.  We're done with our lesson and still had some air left.  The instructor, tapped his dive knife on his tank (that's how he got our attention) and pointed at the ground below.  There looked like a pile of sewage pipes down there.  It was within our dive limits so we followed him down.  

No, these weren't the actual ones we encountered, but they looked pretty similar

Source 

When we got there, he started hitting the encrusted end of the "Pipe" with his knife.  After a few hits, the crust fell off and revealed an ogival nose.  As we were all fighter pilots and having been around bombs and other things that go bang, we recognized the "pipe" for what it was,  some kind of naval round.  

Now, we had no idea how it had gotten there, how long it had been there, or whether or not it might go "Boom".  However, I think I could have won any Olympic swimming competition in getting the heck out of there.  As did the rest of the guys. 

Conversation back on the boat got a bit heated with a lot of adjectives in front of the word "stupid" directed at the instructor.

No Beans, I'm not going to quote anything said, Sarge might blush!

Suffice it to say, we found another instructor to finish the certification and put out the word to the other squadron's not to hire this guy, and I believe, that word leaked out to our Squadron Commander about him,  Somehow the Wing Commander found out then the Air Division Commander issued an order preventing any Air Division personnel from hiring this particular instructor.  

Sucks to be him.

All in All, with this one exception, it was a great assignment. Travel around the Pacific was easy, Flying the Eagle was great and...once I got my Diving Certification that was a lot of fun also.

On a sad note, I just (literally, I found this article right after I took a break writing this post) learned that the Eagles at Kadena are being retired. As they are, they will be replaced initially by TDY "advanced" aircraft until  PACAF "modernizes" our forces in the region.” 

78-564 F-15D.  

Yes, it's got an Alaskan Fin Flash now, It was sent there when Kadena got newer model Eagles.  She's STILL my Eagle!

 airhistory.net 

Gonna miss the Eagle, but the one with my name on it was built in 1978, AKA 48 years ago.  She served her country quite well!  She deserves a rest.

 

Peace out y'all 

 

 

 

 

 

Eagles

 

 

One of the regular commenters on Sarge’s blog asked me an interesting question

I see that Kuwatis are using F-15s for target practice. Having paid attention to yesterday's post, I knew that most F-15s are single seaters but these were all two seater "Strike Eagles" as opposed to other types. What's that all about?

 
Kinda like the Navy guys with the original "Bugs" being fighters and then later ones becoming F/A-18s. Or, the F-14 Tomcat becoming the "Bombcat."

Perhaps a topic you could enlighten us about in a future post?

Not sure enlightenment is in my array of capabilities, but here goes.

When the Eagle first came on board, it was Air to Air ONLY!  The Air Force had spent a lot of time, money and influence to get an Air Supremacy capable aircraft.  And with a 105 to 0 record in Iraq, it certainly was capable.

However,  the pencil pushers in the 5 sided Palace for idiots (no, I don't have any animosity about the place, no, I don't, no, really! Ok Some) decided in order to save money, they would add Air to Ground to the Eagle's capability's.

All hell broke loose.  First, air to air is a difficult skill to be proficient at, it takes a lot of practice.  Second, the aircraft would need to be modified to carry air to ground weapons and be able to deliver them while still maintaining Air to Air capability's.  

This went round and round for a few years and finally a compromise was agreed upon.  The F-15A-D models would be air to air only, while the F-15E would be primarily Air to Ground but would have some Air to Air capability. 

F-15E

 Here's an interesting article about the capabilities of a Strike Eagle (the nickname for an F-15E).

 But, while it does have air to air capability, the aircrews aren't as well trained in air to air as the  pilots in C and D model Eagles.  (As does air to ground, but the C and D models, which CAN do air to ground, I don't believe we ever dropped bombs.) 

F-15 D (Mine!)

They could, and would sometimes, put the conformal fuel tanks (shown in the opening F-15E picture above) on the C and D model F-15s.  I've flown with them a couple of times.  I thought there was a significant reduction in maneuverability, but the Air Staff said that was all BS.  

But it's pretty much a moot point.  According to this article the C and D models of the Eagle will be retired and replaced with the F-15EX when it comes on line in numbers. In the interim, the C and D model mission will be handled by F-16s, F-22's, and F-35's. Given that the last time I flew an Eagle was 1987 and my jet was already 10 years old and they're just now retiring them after almost 50 years of flying air to air missions.  Air to Air requires a lot of very hard maneuvering in air to air which puts an AWFUL lot of stress on both the airplane and the Pilot.  So, there's a pretty good assumption that they've had a hard life and deserve a break. But, I'm a little sad to see my jet retired. Even if I am also retired.

Frankly, I think F-15 78-564 looks a lot better than me in our respective retirement roles. 

MY Eagle just a new paint job, number and owner (unfortunately that last one isn't me).

 Peace out, Y’all.  Sarge should be returning to his normal broadcast schedule tomorrow. See you next Monday!

The Steeds

 So...There I was*

 A senior at Texas Tech University.  Alresdy completed my BBA degree requirements, but had another semester of AFROTC scholarship money.  Talked to the fighter pilot captain who was one of the instructors.  He advised me to start on a Masters degree.  I mentioned that I only had 9 months til pilot training.  He reminded me of the scholarship money that I still had as well as the Spring semester and with 8 hours in the summer,15 in the fall and 12 in the spring, I could complete the masters.  I reminded him that I only had 3 months in the spring semester before I went on Active Duty.

He replied, "I never said it would be easy! But you'll be used to studying while your classmates will have been out chasing women and drinking beer.  You'll have a head start."  So, I took his advice, completed the coursework.  Took the exams on the Saturday before UPT started, drove from Lubbock to Laughlin (Del Rio) on Sunday and reported in on Monday with the rest of my class.  For some strange reason, the class work was surprisingly easy.

Sometimes Captains know what they're talking about.  Drove back to Lubbok to attend graduation.  The Captain was at the side of the stage when I came off with my diploma.

He asked how it was going.  I said the academics are a piece of cake and I'm holding my own with the flying, and thank you very much for the advice on getting the Masters.

I went on to graduate # 2 in my class. (The #1 guy had golden hands,)

My follow on assignment was Lead-In Fighter Training, where they taught you how to employ a fighter in an aircraft (T-38) you already knew how to fly, then went on to Luke AFB Phoenix where I checked out in the F-4C. 

The FG Fin Flash was a 8TFW Logo during Vietnam.  8TFW then went to Kunsan were Sarge and I were members

 Formation was a piece of cake.  In the  Air to Air curriculum,  I caught on pretty quick and could hold my own.  Air to Ground, took a lot more time and effort.  Pointing your nose at the ground at 450 nautical miles an hour (AKA Knots) takes a bit of gettig used to.  The back of your mind is saying to the muscles "You're getting very close to the ground, pull up" which sounds logical, except if it's too soon, the bomb falls short, which is a miss and your grade for the mission takes a hit.

Took me a while.

But, I graduated.  Went to survival school at Fairchild AFB in eastern Washington.  And then departed for my first operational assignment.  An F-4D to Kunsan AB ROK.  A great assignment, Most of the Pilots, other than the other guy from my class and I, were Vietnam veterans.

Source

 

They KNEW how to not only fly a Phantom, but to Employ one.  I paid attention and pretty soon was somehow qualified to drop bombs, even if they were only 25LB practice bombs.  My 35YO (AKA ancient) WSO was a Big help.  It was a highly educational year and was followed by another operatioal fighter assignment at Moody AFB in GA flying the F-4E.

This was my squadron's tail flash, so pretty likely, I've flown this jet
Source

 

  Got there and reported in to my Squadron, got introduced to the CO and my Flight Commander.  That was a Friday afternoon,  The Flight Commander said that the squadron rendesvoused at the O'Club at 1700 and I was expected to be there.  

So, I showed up.  They were playing a game called "Crud".  It was played on a billiard table with the cue ball and the 8 Ball.  The game started with the cue ball being rolled to hit the 8 ball.  At that point the opposing player grabbed the cue ball and ran to one of the short ends of the table and rolled it to hit the 8 ball to sink it or keep it rolling.  As soon as one or the other happened he stepped away and the rolls changed.  

I didn't do very well that first round and I was playing against a "Girl!".  I was on the losing team so had to  got to buy this extraordinarily lovely young lady a drink.  I still serve her a glass of wine nightly.

Back to the flying, juvat! Flying, Aye! Sarge.

Hanging on the wall in my "office"

 The Wing was assigned to the Rapid Deployment Force (RDF) which meant we could be called to deploy 3 squadrons on 24 hours notice anywhere in the world.  Spent a long time at Red Flag in Las Vegas honing our skills, and especially mine.  Towards the end of the assignment, we (yes,the lovely young lady and I had tied the not) were transferred to Holloman AFB NM as an Instructor Pilot at the Lead-In Fighter Training Wing.  The wing taught young pilots right out of Pilot Training how to EMPLOY an aircraft rather than just fly one.  

I know I flew this one Source

 

 

 

For those of you who have been an instructor of any sort, you undoubtedly understand that you will learn more from the lessons  you teach than your students will.  I was a much better fighter pilot when I left than when I had arrived.  

My Squadron Commander called me into his office one day and told me he had a "good deal" for me.  Now, that's a code word (usually) for a crappy duty.  This time I was assigned to be the instructor for our new Wing Operations Officer (a Full Bird Colonel) with about 4000 hours of fighter time.  What the heck was I gonna teach him?  

In any case, we got along well, had our fair share of harrowing experiences.  When It came time for me to go back to operational (as opposed to training) flying, He went to bat for me and got me assigned to an F-15 Squadron.

I'm flying the airplane with the photographer in the back

The Eagle at this time didn't have two seats.  Your first sortie in the aircraft was solo.  My IP & Flight lead, briefed the mission.  "OK, we're gonna do an afterburner takeoff to 25K', don't go above as there's airliners there.  We'll head south into our area, do a bit of advanced handling to burn off fuel, then come back and practice landings.  I'll be following you around the pattern, so you're basically on your own, I won't be able to demo any.  You OK with that?"

There's only one answer to that, "Yes, Sir!"  even if you are a bit concerned.  But heck, I've got almost 2K hours in fighters, what's left to learn?

Suffice it to say, the answer is "An awful lot!"

We step to the jets, fire them up, taxi to the arming area, get cleared by the ground crew, cleared by the tower to taxi on the the runway. Get cleared for takeoff.  Lead lights his afterburners and starts down the runway, about 1000' later he comes off the ground, sucks up the gear, levels off and about halfway down the runway pulls it into a vertical climb.  We hadn't discussed that.

But, I'm an experienced fighter pilot, anything he can do, I can do better  almost as good.

Light the burner, my head snaps back into the head rest.  I glance at the airspeed indicator, I'm still on the ground and am at flying speed.  Pull back on the stick, the jet is airborne,  The instructor keys the back radio and says "Gear Up and Pull, we don't want to boom the base do we?"  I look at the airspeed indicator, I'm rapidly approaching Landing Gear door limits.  Gear up, flaps up, I'm now doing about 450.  I pull up as I would have in the Phantom.  He keys the mike and says "PULL! "  So, I do!  Very shortly thereafter, I am in vertical flight and still accelerating.  And I haven't passed the end of the runway.  I see him pull his nose down, so I roll the aircraft and do the same.  He had pulled his jet out of afterburners so so do I.  I rejoin with him. He keys the rear mike.

"Fun, isn't it?"

 

Damn, I loved that jet! 

3 years later, I went to school, then a staff tour in Hawaii, then a prison sentence (or seemed like one) at the Pentagon.  Fed up with the Washington Melange, but threatened with a nother tour there, called it quits.

Been living in Texas for 25 years now.  There is a  military low level route that's about a mile or so away from our house.  They frequently drive by.  'Tis music to my ears. 

 

 

*OK, based on the beginning, this post may or may not be 100% accurate.  I'll try, but the memory is starting to fail.  They will be good stories however! 

Last Guy on Base (Redux)

 

Sorry Folks, seems the juvat family is having a continuing engagement with health issues.  No, not Mrs J. thankfully,  Results from her PET test are due tomorrow.  Everybody seems to be happy with her test, just waiting on the official results.  However, on returning home, I'm fixing lunch when suddenly my heart starts racing.  One of the good things about an Apple Watch is the ECG app is pretty accurate.  Unfortunately, it's showing erratic heart beats in the 130 to 160 range, and nothing seems to be working to slow it down.  So off to the ER, an overnight stay and a diagnosis of a blocked bladder.  The ER Doc tried to explain to me why a bladder problem can cause heart problems, but it was serious enough to him to admit me.  Long story short, I've got a catheter in a very uncomfortable place and have made another visit to the ER for this issue.  Got dates now with a urologist and my family doc tomorrow, so will be kinda out of touch for a bit.

So, you get a repeat posting. 

One of the more exciting missions in the F-15 Eagle was the "High/Fast flyer" intercept.  The maneuver was intended to intercept Mig-25's flying as high and as fast as they could to recce targets on our side of the war.  The practice target was the SR-71, he would fly the MiG's altitude and airspeed.  They called it their "Low/Slow" profile.

Showoffs!

But, in any case here it goes.

So.  There I was…..*  It is the day before the start of an ORI (operational readiness inspection).  This event would serve as the wing and squadron commander’s report card as well as determine any future assignments/promotions for them in the USAF, no pressure. 

Maintenance will begin generating the deploying aircraft first thing in the morning and as they are available, the squadron will deploy its 24 F-15Cs to Kwang Ju AB.  The other squadrons are doing the same thing, although, they will only deploy to the Navy side of the base, a cost saving measure.  I prefer the deployment option, less distractions.

 On my last practice ride before the fun begins, I am flying an F-15C in a fuel conserving orbit somewhere in the low 30s with a mission to “protect” Okinawa from overflight by a Mig-25 that will supposedly make a run at the island. For this mission, the role of the Mig will be played by an SR-71.  Being based at Kadena, they have to slow down and descend in order to land.  While doing that, they pass through the parameters a Mig-25 would fly on an operational mission in Korea.  The Habu Bubbas call it their “low, slow” profile.

  

Yeah, Yeah…..

 

Brian Shul in flight
Source: en.wikipedia.org

An operational F-15 tops out in level flight at about 55K (centerline bag configuration, don’t know what it would be for the current two wing tank config). The SR-71 will be in the low to mid 70’s and in the high Mach 2’s. This mission’s success is a matter of arriving at a specific point in space at a specific climb angle with a specific energy state.  A lot can go wrong and has, but a missed intercept on an ORI is bad juju.

 

Source: www.flickr.com

As I was remembering details about this and researching, I came upon this article which talks about the maneuver I’m going to perform.  It is called the Rutowski climb profile and is all about energy management.  If you’re into complex math, go read the article.  Some of you will undoubtedly be able to figure out the equations.  Fortunately, there was a diagram I basically remembered.

Source

I’m orbiting at Position C on the diagram.  Once GCI determines the target is inbound and reaches commit range, I will begin flying the rest of the profile (C-E), trying to arrive at E with my nose about 45 degrees up, still above the Mach, at launch range and about 45K’.  If I meet those parameters, I will have enough nose authority to keep the target illuminated for the time of flight of the missile(s).  There will be 4 in flight.

 

This is actually an ASAT test launch, but the parameters are basically the same.
Source: commons.wikimedia.org

Since the SR-71 is travelling at about 1NM every 2 seconds, there is no time for error.  

 

Source en.wikipedia.org

Commit range is about 250nm.  I will turn hot at 350NM. Once I’m pointed at him, I will begin accelerating in Mil Power while beginning a slight climb to gain as much total energy as I can prior to commit. (Total energy is airspeed and altitude.)  At 250NM, I will go Max AB and begin a zero g dive.  This eliminates the drag caused by the aircraft’s lift and maximizes the velocity I can achieve, while minimizing the altitude (potential energy) loss.  At 150NM, I begin a 4 g pull to a 45 degree climb and maintain that throughout the remainder of the intercept.  Oh, and by the way, the F-15’s radar only goes out to 200NM, so while in the midst of this maneuver, I have to locate the target and lock on.  GCI’s radar sweep is too slow to control the intercept.  The closure rate will cause them to tell me to pull too late for a successful intercept.

As I said, there’s a lot going on and no room for error.

I get the call to turn hot, and am now on the attack vector, I’m just under the Mach and in my slight climb around 35K.  I get the commit call, light AB and push over.  I’ve got the radar run out to max range and get the first contact there.  I get the lock on and, Mother Bear, this guy’s fast!  By the time the radar is settled in, he’s about 180.  I’m well above the Mach and down to around 27K.  150NM and pull.  45 degrees set, through 30K, 35K.  Everything looks steady, target is steady in the HUD (a good sign, if he was moving up the HUD, that would mean I was behind on the intercept). 

Coming through 40K, I suddenly feel as if a large nail has been shot through my jaw and into my skull.  The pain is blinding and getting worse!  I roll the aircraft what I think is about 180 degrees and begin a pull to get the nose coming back down.  I recognize the symptoms from altitude chamber training in Pilot Training.  I've either got air trapped in a sinus or a tooth.  In either case, I’ve got to get the aircraft down below the altitude the incident occurred as quickly as possible.

As soon as I get below 40K, it’s as if someone flips a switch, the pain switches from incapacitatingly sharp to dull residual.  I call “Knock it off” to GCI and the SR-71 and tell them I’m RTB.  As I continue to descend, the pain continues to abate, so I come down initial and land.  Get back in the squadron and find the Flight Surgeon.  He runs me through an X-ray, nothing wrong with my sinuses, so sends me off to the Dentist.  I've got a cracked filling on one of my molars.  No problem.  Drill it out and replace it.

Later that evening, I get a call at home from the Dentist.  “I’m not sure I got all the air out.  We should probably try an Altitude Chamber ride first thing in the morning.”  Well, there went my deploying in an Eagle!  Oh, and by the way, I’ll know if he didn't get it all with a repeat of this morning’s episode.  

 

Source: commons.wikimedia.org

I’m in the altitude chamber, watching the altimeter climb.  Just me and the technician in the box.  35K, 38K, 39K, 40K, 41K, maybe……42K BAM!  Holy Crap this hurts!  I don’t even have to say anything; the tech can see it in my eyes.  We start back down. 

To his credit, and mortal risk, the Dentist is waiting at the chamber door when it opens.  I ask him what’s next and he says root canal.  Perfect!  Can this day get any better?  I call the squadron and tell them I’m not going to be flying an Eagle up and what are the Airlift departure times?  They tell me they’re all today.  I ask the Dentist when he’ll be done with the root canal.  I can’t fly in anything, until tomorrow morning. 

 

Coulda been this, instead....
Source: en.wikipedia.org

I get this.
Source:commons.wikimedia.org

Now, what?  I ask the squadron to find anything going to Korea tomorrow, and then go have my root canal.

I find out there’s a C-130 leaving for Kunsan first thing in the morning and I make arrangements to be on it.  

Wake up the next morning with the command post calling asking me to swing by the squadron to grab the mission planning computer that had somehow been left behind.  So, I’ve got my A-3 bag with my gear, and I’m going to carry a late 80s era CPU?  That would be ok, if I were getting off the 130 at Kwang Ju, but I have to take a taxi from Kunsan to the bus terminal, get on a bus to Kwang Ju. (Google Maps shows that to be 5 hour plus today, the roads weren’t as good back then).   Hail another cab to the airbase and then flag someone down to catch a ride to the squadron.

I drive by the squadron, and the entire building is empty.  Nobody around at all.  My squadron is in Korea, the other squadrons are on the other side of the base.  I am the last man standing.  I grab the CPU and depart for the MAC terminal and get on the 130.

I make it to the Kunsan bus terminal, (in flight suit), get my ticket to Kwang Ju and actually find the right bus.  I’m struggling a bit trying to get all the stuff going in the right direction, when a ROK Army Enlisted guy takes pity on me, comes up and offers to help.  I ask him to carry my gear. (The computer is NoForn.)  He does and on arrival at Kwang Ju, hails the cab and tells them where I need to go.  (My ability to order a beer and find a bathroom in Korean being of no use to me at this point.)

I arrive at the front gate, the SPs let me in and call the squadron.  The bread truck arrives and I load all the stuff on board and am climbing in, when the siren goes off.

  

Airfield attack, condition black!  Welcome to the ORI, Juvat! 

*Back in the day, this was the standard juvat intro.