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Naif al Hilali

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http://www.thedrive.com/the-war-zone/4381/f-15-strike-eagles-over-saudi-arabia-then-and-now

F-15 Strike Eagles Over Saudi Arabia: Then And Now
Richard Crandall compares the Strike Eagle he flew 25 years ago in Desert Storm to those screaming over the Kingdom today.
By Tyler Rogoway
July 12, 2016


Tyler Rogoway

Richard Crandall started his Air Force flying career in the F-111 Aardvark, but found himself in the cockpit of the mighty F-15E Strike Eagle, the service’s newest jet, during Operation Desert Storm. Although F-15C/D Eagles were already a staple in the Royal Saudi Air Force by the time Desert Storm kicked off, the Strike Eagle would eventually find its way into the Kingdom’s aerial arsenal in the form of the F-15S. Today, Saudi Arabia flies around 70 of these jets, and soon they will receive 84 F-15SAs, the most advanced Strike Eagle derivative ever produced.

Now Crandall serves as a contractor with the Royal Saudi Air Force, where he puts his experiences flying and fighting in the F-15E “Mud Hen” to use. Below, read Crandall's perspective detailing how the Strike Eagle first arrived in Saudi Arabia, how they were baptized by fire during Desert Storm, and how they differed from the Strike Eagles flown today.

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USAF
Cockpit view of a division of Strike Eagles.

Strike Eagles arrive in the Kingdom

Saudi Arabia has flown the F-15 Eagle for a very long time. The Kingdom bought the Eagle and started flying them long before Desert Storm in 1991. Royal Saudi Air Force pilots flying the F-15Cs even shot down two Iraqi fighters during the war.

Iraq invaded Kuwait on August 2, 1990. In that same month, the USAF’s newest and most potent strike fighter, F-15E Strike Eagle, landed in Saudi Arabia for the first time, but its stay was brief. The jets were only on the ground for a few hours at King Abdulaziz Air Base in Dharan. They were refueled and immediately departed for Thumrait, Oman.

At the time, their presence in the Kingdom was considered too offensive, and some worried it might result in Iraq immediately crossing the border into Saudi Arabia. The only way to stop them was deploying the Saudi Army and the 82nd Airborne. The 82nd Airborne would have fought valiantly, but its anti-armor capability wasn't there, and it would have been a speed bump under Saddam Hussein's armored forces.

For the next six months, the USAF’s first operational F-15E unit, the 336th Fighter Squadron “Rocketeers,” flew from Oman, while the great military buildup leading up to Desert Storm—called Desert Shield—went on in Saudi Arabia and around the region. Finally, in December, the word came down that the “World Famous Fighting Rocketeers” and their mighty F-15Es would deploy to Al Kharj Air Base (which we called Al’s Garage).

There we would join up there with the 335th Fighter Squadron “Chiefs” which also hailed from Seymour Johnson AFB. The Chiefs proudly claimed to be “The World’s Largest Distributor of MiG Parts” from back when they flew the F-86 during the Korean War, and they had an impressive kill record.

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DoD
F-15E Eagle fighter aircraft of the 4th Tactical Fighter Wing, Seymour Johnson Air Force Base, N.C., are parked on an air field during Operation Desert Shield.

The Genesis of the Strike Eagle

The Strike Eagle was an adaptation of an incredible Air-to-Air machine, the F-15A/B/C/D, and it still has the best kill-to-loss ratio of any fighter aircraft ever (debatably, 98 to 1). It was designed and first flew in the early 1970s. It thrives at medium-altitude, with a complex airfoil that gave it outstanding maneuverability unmatched by any other aircraft. It was so big that many classes at Luke AFB had their class photos shot with the entire class standing on top of the airplane in tennis outfits—it became known as the “flying tennis court.” As for its large visual signature, real fighter pilots aren’t afraid of being seen: We kill you as we spit in your face.

During the late 70s and early 80s, the F-111 was getting old, although I almost laugh at that now, since the oldest flying F-15s are approaching 40. In 1980’s, when the USAF started to pursue what became the Strike Eagle, the oldest F-111 was only about 20 years old.

The F-111 was a great penetration low-level day/night bomber but it had almost no air-to-air capability. I loved flying it, but it could be out-turned by everything. Low and fast it excelled marvelously. It was, however, an absolute maintenance nightmare. I think from my days on the staff at Air Combat Command at Langley AFB (if a judge told me to choose to serve on the staff in a non-flying job or go to prison—not sure what I'd do...) that the F-111 was 9% of the Tactical Air Force, but took up 25% of the budget. With this in mind, the USAF held a competition between a really cool looking delta-winged F-16XL and a heavily modified F-15D. The air-to-ground optimized Eagle was chosen.

(Author’s note: Israel was actually the first to put the concept of an air-to-ground F-15 to use operationally. Read all about it here.)



What made the “Mud Hen” special

The multi-role F-15E retained 100% of the capabilities of the “not a pound for air-to-ground” F-15C, sort of. They added two conformal fuel tanks (CFTs) on the sides of the fuselage that gave it a lot more gas, about an extra 8,500lbs of go-juice to be exact, but they also added weight and drag.

The CFTs could also carry up to 6,000lbs of weapons per side, or two 2,000lb weapons per side. Thus, a clean F-15E with CFTs up against an F-15C with two wing tanks would be hard pressed to win, especially as all that the F-15C driver did was live, eat, breathe air-to-air. We in the Strike Eagle community did 90% air-to-Ground and about 10% air-to-air. That ratio has varied over the years, but for us who went to Saudi Arabia so long ago, we were focused on bombs. The light grey guys (the F-15C wears a lighter paint scheme) can’t even say the word bombs, they call it “the B word” they hate it so much. They may be able to kill them one by one, but we can do that too plus we take the bad guys out by the hundreds with our payloads.

The best thing about the F-15E? It worked. You turned the radar on and it stayed on. You didn’t lose the INS (Inertial Navigation System) if you hiccupped. The TFR (Terrain Following Radar) always worked. Plus we had an IR (infrared) picture in our wide-screen HUDs that the light grey types lusted after, the massive HUD not the IR. Their’s was tiny and shriveled in comparison.

We had a WSO (Weapons Systems Officer). The light grey guys hate the idea of having company in the cockpit. That was life for us. Personally I found that when I worked with a good WSO I could fight better than by myself. I think I would have been a better pilot if forced to do it all by myself but when you put me with a WSO, we as a crew were better than I ever could have been with me by myself. Plus a huge advantage here, when I screwed up and was called into the boss’s office to be screamed at it hurt less as he was screaming at two of us instead of me alone. Misery loves company.

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USAF
Ground crews prepare to attach a CFT to an F-15E.

The F-15E had a fantastic advance know as Synthetic Aperture Radar (SAR). Basically a bunch of nerdy skinny guys with coke bottle eyeglasses and pocket protectors found that if they had the radar sweep back and forth a couple of times and then analyzed all of the pictures, checked them twice to see if we were naughty or nice, and then took the cube root of the square of the phase of the moon, that they could give us a picture of the ground that looked like it was taken from a satellite. It was incredible. Fences looked like fences. Buildings were square instead of blobs. Radar scope interpretation became much-much easier and bombing accuracy became much better.

To use the Synthetic Aperture Radar we had to move sideways to the target for a couple of sweeps. The greater the angle off the nose the area was we wanted to look at the faster the picture and the more accurate the radar picture was. This totally changed our target area behavior. In the F-111 you flew straight at the target as the WSO used the radar to find it. In the Strike Eagle we would fly at an angle to the target and turn direct only after the WSO found and designated it.

This was not that big of a deal really. We had to maneuver anyway to get minimum safe distance between each striking aircraft so we just integrated the need to map the target into our plan to attack from different directions at different times.

We would run in low. The F-15E could fly TFR down to 100 feet though I only used 200 feet to my eternal regret. Woulda-coulda-shoulda gone down to 100 feet at night just to say I did it. The lowest I ever flew at night in the F-111 was 500 feet, though I flew at 200 feet when flying under visual flight rules (VFR) conditions all the time.

Anyway, run in low then turn off when inside around 20 miles or so. This gave us our best resolution on the radar and I think the numbers were something like we could see objects as separate if they were a bit less than 10 feet apart. So, if you have two cars five feet apart they show up as one blob. If they were 15 feet apart they would show up as two blobs.

If the radar did not have enough grazing angle to see the target the WSO would direct us to climb. Once he had the picture we would turn target direct and drop back down to our attack altitude that was dictated by the bomb fuse combination that we were carrying.

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USAF
F-15E's massive holographic HUD with LANTIRN nav pod FLIR imagery projected onto it at night.

Putting the Strike Eagle’s arsenal to work during Desert Storm

The standard for the start of the war was the MK-20 Rockeye cluster bomb which if I remember right had a timer fuse on it. A certain time after being dropped the MK-339 timer fuse would fire. The bomb would spin after release from the fins popping out at the back at an angle. When the fuse fired, the case split open, and the bomblets inside spread out due to centripetal acceleration. If you released too high the pattern was wider and if too low the pattern was narrower.

The bombs were dual purpose. If they hit something hard they would form a shape charge of plasma and burn through armor. If they hit something soft they would go off like a hand grenade and generate shrapnel. I loved Rockeye, great stuff, carried it the first few nights of the war and took out several Scud missiles with it.

By the end of the war we were primarily dropping CBU-87s, bigger at 1,000lbs than the 750lb Rockeye. That was nice because it had more bomblets. It was not nice because we could not carry 12 of them on the CFT’s, 6 per side, and carry wing-tanks as well, the top three bombs on each side were too close to the tanks. Thus we either carried less, six to be exact, or we carried less gas, a center line tank instead of up to 3 tanks, 2 on the wing plus the centerline tank.

The CBU-87 had a radar proximity fuse. As a result if I released it on or above the minimum altitude I got the exact same dispersion of the bomblets. This came into play after the second night of the war when we started dropping from what we used to consider the stratosphere, the mid-teens to high twenties (thousands of feet). We could still cover a huge area on the desert with a carpet of white fire. These were the best dumb bombs we used for the vast majority of targets we attacked during Desert Storm.

Laser Guided Bombs (LGBs) are visual flight rules only weapons. The laser is attenuated by visible moisture. Sometime you could use a ground laser beneath a cloud deck, the aircraft could drop the bomb ballistically and the guy on the ground would guide it in by illuminating the target with his laser.

At the start of the war we had Paveway II LGBs in 500lb (GBU-12) and 2000lb (GBU-10) configurations. It didn’t matter to the aircrew which he carried as they were identical in employment. We did not start using them until a bit into Desert Storm as we only had nine LANTIRN targeting pods for 48 aircraft. We were up to 24 pods by the end of the war. Because of this, we always used them from medium altitude in one of two ways.


If the aircraft was lasing (painting a target with a laser) for itself, it would drop the bomb and immediately crank off about 45 to 60 degrees while continuing to lase the target. I think usually we would use a “delay-lase” tactic though, where we would not turn the laser back on after release until 15 seconds or so to impact. This was to keep the bomb falling ballistically. If you had the laser on full time then as soon as the laser was seen by the seeker it would point straight at the target and cause the bomb to come in at a slightly shallower angle than it would with a delayed laser operation. Steeper meant faster and more energy to maneuver to steer to the laser spot. I have actually seen slow motion footage of bombs hitting short with the bomb at a very nose-high angle of attack as the seeker struggled to keep on target and the bomb got too slow.

By cranking sideways the laser spot would remain on the same side of the target as the bomb, usually. Even when you are lasing the target at almost 90 degrees you would usually have enough laser “splattering” for the bomb to see it. Round oil storage tanks could be tough though. Also, you could end up lasing the side of a building the bomb couldn’t see so it took a bit of artistry to know the right run-in angle and crank-off angle.

The other advantage of cranking-off was avoiding the very disorienting roll of the seeker head as it passes through the vertical. Not only that, but since the LANTIRN targeting pod had the seeker head on the front of the pod’s body, the ability to see to the rear was extremely limited. I have seen a lot of targeting pod video from the war and several times you can see where the laser stops prior to bomb impact due to this. With good crew coordination the pilot could quickly turn back toward the target and roll back out allowing the pod’s laser to stay on target.

Another tactic we used was buddy lasing. In this case the poor wingman (always me as I was a wingman the entire war) who had no targeting pod would drop the bomb ballistically so that his flight lead could have all the fun and be the hero in taking the target out. I kind of felt like the sparring partner for the heavyweight fighter. I did a lot of work with little satisfaction. I know, yes I would like some crackers and cheese to go with my whine.

The flight lead would fly several miles behind the wingman and be able to fly straight towards the target the entire time. This actually gives the bomb the absolute best laser spot as it is more in line with the flight path of the bomb the entire time.

So how big is the laser spot? We had some footage taken out at the Utah test range that actually filmed our LANTIRN targeting laser on the target as we dropped bombs. If I remember right it was a 2 story target building. The laser spot covered most of the entire building when the bombs hit! We were several miles away and it showed how even lasers diverge over distance. The seeker on the bomb tracks the center of the spot so even though it was a big spot we still got good guidance with it.

We also carried the standard MK-82 500lb bombs and another favorite of mine, the MK-84 2,000 pounder. I had one mission against a cloverleaf in the desert of Kuwait with five 2,000lb bombs. We could see the shock-wave as they blew up, even on the darkest night.



We own the night

We used the FLIR (forward-looking Infrared) in the LANTIRN Navigation pod to fly formation at night. Thus in a two ship or more we would fly a train with each wingman being two to four miles behind the aircraft in front. This allowed the radars to be in scan mode rather than remaining locked on to the aircraft in front of it.

I think most flight leads preferred to fly in black-hot on their HUD. I preferred white hot as it was easier to see the aircraft as a white dot than a black dot for me. Our leads tended to criticize us but most of us just shrugged and continued to do what we wanted to as it was our choice and we were the ones who would be embarrassed if we didn’t stay in position. Remember the wingman’s creed – “two, joker, bingo, mayday, and Lead you’re on Fire.” Other than that shut up and color. Be in position and do what you’re trained to do. That way the formation is strong. A weak wingman is worthless.

At that time we had no data-link. Big weakness. All targets passed to the Strike Eagle after takeoff were done verbally. We worked with E-8 JSTARS a lot. They had a SAR radar like ours but theirs could take detailed pictures from much greater ranges. They would then try to talk us onto targets.

They would give us the coordinates, oh yeah also no GPS in the F-15E back then, so coordinates could be up to a half mile or more off. They would then verbally describe the targets they were seeing. “A group of six tanks in a crescent moon oriented towards the northwest.” Sadly many times we would just find some returns near the coordinates they gave and drop our bombs on them.

This was really a problem when we were buddy lasing. Making sure we were on the same target took a lot of time. Of the few buddy lase missions I flew I would usually bring back several of the LGBs. We just ran out of gas before lead dropped all of his and then started to talk us onto a target to drop ours.

I don’t remember if the original LANTIRN targeting pod had the ability to see another laser. This is a huge benefit now. The A-10 had this way back when it first flew with the Pave Penny system. Another aircraft or a ground controller could put a laser out on a target and a pilot would get an indication on his HUD showing where the laser-spot is and thus would be able to find the target immediately. This didn’t matter much for us during Desert Storm as I don’t think we flew with more than one targeting pod in a formation for the entire war.

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Tyler Rogoway
Modernized Saudi F-15S.

The Strike Eagle ages beautifully

Starting in 1996 Saudi Arabia bought their version of the F-15E, the F-15S. It was downgraded slightly from the USAF’s version. I think originally they weren’t going to get the weapons stations on the CFTs and were going to use BRUs (bomb racks) and MERs (multiple ejector racks) on the wing. They have the weapons stations on the CFTs now, although I just do not know if they had them originally. I will talk though about the F-15S today – the F-15 I wish I would have had 25 years ago.

GPS. Enough said. Hard to imagine living without it.

With GPS comes JDAM (Joint Direct Attack Munition), a dumb bomb made smart with a GPS guidance kit. Wow. That bomb alone is the difference between fighting in the Stone Age and now. All weather accuracy without the need for post target lasing. True launch-and-leave capability.

JDAM offers a much larger effects footprint. One pass, multiple Desired Mean Point of Impacts (DMPIs). I only attacked one target per pass in Desert Storm. Now, with JDAM, I could attack 12 or more targets on one pass. That is a game changer.

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USAF
F-15E's dropping bunker busting BLU-109s with JDAM kits.

Data-link. I never ever had it but always wanted it. No more “bogey, Manny, 090 for 65 Westbound.” Okay, now I have to know where Manny is, then where am I in relation to Manny. Then take that information I just heard and mentally plot it out and do a fix-to-fix in my head to figure out where he is relative to me. Hmmm. Angle of the something or other squared times… Remember the movie Mars Attacks when the Country Western music is played and the Martians’ heads explode?

Now with the data-link you look down at your display and see exactly where Manny and pretty much everything else is, in color, and relative to your own position. Remember when your teacher told you how nice it was to share? Now you get to share all sorts of stuff, radar, pictures, home movies, the list goes on. Data-link is as much a game changer as GPS.

Targeting Pod mechanized for air-to-air combat. My neighbor back in the 90s at Seymour Johnson was Ziggy Dahl, an instructor WSO in the Chiefs. He used the targeting pod to do air-to-air back before it was optimized to do it. As like most modern fighters of the day we had pulse doppler radar and everyone knows that if you fly perfectly perpendicular to the air-to-air radar locked onto you then you will disappear. Klingon cloaking device on! Our radar could only look to 60 degrees back then, later a bit more, but still way less than 90 degrees. Solution, use the targeting pod which gave you +/- 1 degree accuracy. It worked like a champ but was hard to do.

I understand now that the targeting pod cues to expected position of the target without a ton of work on the WSO’s part (Author’s note: this technology is now being fully integrated also on American ANG F-15Cs equipped with SNIPER targeting pods). Do a hard turn and blank out the targeting pod and it will track where the bogey should be and return to that point in space when you un-blank the pod. Back when I flew it the pod would go stupid if it broke-lock and was blanked out.

AIM-120 AMRAAMs on the wing rails above the fuel tanks. All we had during Desert Storm was the AIM-9L Sidewinder. Great missile but it is a pistol in a rifle fight with the Mig-29s we were facing. To carry the AIM-7 Sparrow we would have to give up bombs on the conformal fuel tanks. In hindsight we would have killed five or more MIGs during the first night if we would have had the flight leads go in with one conformal carrying six MK-20 Rockeyes and one conformal carrying two Aim-7Ms. Oh well.

Now the Strike Eagle always has claws on every flight. Long-range claws. Approach at your own risk claws.



Then and now


Perspective time. Last year I returned to that small government school in central Colorado for delinquent boys and girls called the United States Air Force Academy for my 35th reunion. This was the first reunion I attended. It was a great time with great friends.

35 years prior to my graduation in 1980 was 1945. Jets were rare then with the Lockheed P-80 shooting star designed in 1943 and that was it, and it was not used in WWII. The Germans had a couple, the British had the Glouster Meteor, etc. Still, the piston engine was king. The Spitfire, the Mustang, the B-29 and so on. In 1980, 35 years later, the USAF was flying the A-10, the F-16, the F-15C, and the B-52. Now in 2016, 36 years after 1980, the USAF is flying the A-10, the F-16, the F-15C, and the B-52. Hmmmm.

The difference? GPS and data-link, as well as persistent ISR (Information, Surveillance, Reconnaissance) for the combatant commander and individual warriors. We now have constant ISR on the battlefield. The only ISR we had in Desert Storm was JSTARS and Compass Call, and maybe Rivet Joint, but that was classified way above my head. U-2 and SR-71 too but not for us at the operational level. Today the coverage of the MQ-1 and MQ-9 and other UAVs on the battlefield gives incredible situational awareness available to the average pogue that was not available 25 years ago.

We could destroy every single target hit during the entire Desert Storm with one squadron of F-15Es or F-15Ss today. Precision attacks on multiple targets per aircraft per pass, day, night and in any weather.

Would we? Doubtful. We have more capability today but are hitting far less targets due to the fear of collateral damage – but that is another discussion for another day.



A huge thanks for Richard Crandall for sharing his incredible experiences and perspectives with us. Stay tuned for the second installment where he details his time flying General Dynamics swing-wing bomber, the iconic F-111, at the height of the Cold War.


Contact the editor Tyler@thedrive.com
 
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Sorry to everybody, the first two posts got messed up and trying to fix in post-edit just made it worse. I am uploading the pictures from Google. Please allow me to do the text again so that you can read it in one go.

As always, kindly get the full experience at the sites whose content this is. The purpose to post a select few articles from around the world is to be able to access everything in one place.

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http://www.thedrive.com/the-war-zon...-f-111-aardvark-at-the-height-of-the-cold-war

Flying the Iconic Swing-Wing F-111
Aardvark at the Height of the Cold War

Swing-wings, blistering fast down low, and super
temperamental. What’s not to love?

By Richard Crandall and Tyler Rogoway
July 27, 2016

After giving us an amazing inside look at flying the F-15E Strike Eagle and how its presence in
Saudi Arabia has evolved, Richard Crandall is back. This time he paints an awesomely in-depth
picture of what it was like strapping into the cockpit of the legendary F-111 Aardvark during the
tumultuous final decade of the Cold War.

Joining the F-111 family

I asked for F-15s, F-16s, F-4s, F-111s, or A-10s on my dream sheet. I then called to change the
order to put A-10s over F-111s. The assignment guy at Randolph told me not to worry about it,
as a classmate had put F-111s first. In fact, his father had died flying the F-111 in Vietnam. Took
off and was never heard from again.

He got the F-111. Well, we both got F-111s and I got the second.

I was not thrilled but I sucked it up and got to it. I went to Holloman AFB for Lead-In Fighter
Training (LIFT) in the T-38B Talon. I loved the training! I loved the air-to-air sorties and did
okay at it. Sadly, the F-111 was lousy at air-to-air. It had way too high a wing loading, poor
visibility, and huge energy bleed-off when turning. It was almost impossible to get above 5 g's in
it, and when you did you had just lost about 200-plus knots in the break turn. Oh well.

From Holloman I went to Cannon AFB to fly the F-111D model. The F-111A model first went to
Vietnam in 1968 but was withdrawn quickly after three crashes. It returned in 1972 and was very
successful. It was named "Whispering Death" by the North Vietnamese. Most of the U.S. pilots
called it the “Vark,” short for its name, "Aardvark." The Aussies called it "Pig," which was
fitting, as its air-to-air maneuverability was that of a fat pig.

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F-111 Night Cockpit

The A model had an all-analog cockpit. The Weapon System Officer (WSO) had to twist dials to
change the latitude and longitude to the next coordinate. The pilot would turn to the next heading
and hack a watch (or use a running time) while the WSO would change the inertial navigation
system (INS) coordinates and then make sure the computed heading/time agreed with the dead
reckoning time. All F-111 pilots lived by their stopwatch. You could not fly without it, as the
INS died young.

The F-111B model for the Navy was cancelled. Too big, too heavy, and not maneuverable. They
got the Tomcat instead. Face it: Tom Cruise in an F-111 just wouldn't have hacked it for a
movie. The Tomcat was a good choice on their part.

The F-111C was for the Aussies. It was an F-111A with three-foot longer wings on each side for
better range. Strategic Air Command used the same long wings in the FB-111. It had slightly less
allowed g loading, but that wasn't a big deal as we didn't pull a lot of g's very often.

The F-111D model was radical. It had a glass cockpit. This included a multi-function
monochrome TV for the pilot and a much bigger one for the WSO. It also had digital computers
with a tape to pre-load a planned route. It was a paper tape with holes in it, on a reel—no
kidding—but it worked, eventually.

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F-111D Radar Suite

The D model had two terrain following radars (TFRs) built by Texas Instruments, just like all the
other F-111's, but it could use the transmitter/receiver from one TFR to power the attack radar up
to a range of 20nm. We used that feature a lot and it was a great benefit, as the attack radar often
failed. It also had a great Doppler navigation system tied into the INS. This was awesome for
overwater flight to keep the INS on track. This was a very difficult system to maintain, and
eventually it was canned. It also had a moving map, which was great, but of course that, too, was
difficult to maintain, and eventually canned in the '80s.

The truth is that the D model didn't work. They parked every single one of them in Fort Worth
for several years as they worked to fix the bugs. Meanwhile, they built the F-111E, which was
basically an F-111A with bigger air inlets. It was all analog, just like the A model, but It worked.
They then built the F model, which was the Cadillac of the F-111 force. It had huge engines and
could even go slightly better than one-to-one thrust-to-weight ratio when almost dry and without
stores. It was fast and digital, but not as integrated and as fancy as the D model. No multi-
function displays, but it did have digital computers. Eventually, they put the Pave Tack laser
targeting system into the F-111F and it carried it internally, which was much better and had less
drag than on the F-4, where it was called “Pave Drag.” The F model was most famous for the
raid on Gaddafi.

F-111F_493_TFS_with_Pave_Tack_and_GBU-10s_1982.jpg

F-111F with Four GBU-10s on Wing Hardpoints and Pave Tack Pod in Fuselage Bay

Really low and really fast

The F-111 worked in Vietnam because it flew really low and was really fast. It could fly down to
200 feet AGL (above ground level) using terrain following radar in all but the heaviest rain. As
long as the TFR could see the difference between the weather and the ground, it could fly safely.
The Vietnamese would barely hear it coming as it was pushing the mach and was really low,
hence the nickname. That tactic, low and fast, became THE doctrine until the third night of
Desert Storm. The phrases “speed is life,” “one pass, haul ***,” and “you do more than one pass
in a target area you die” all came from Vietnam.

The radar was the best in the fighter world at the time. An F-111 WSO would use the great real
beam map from the radar to update the INS and navigate, but also clear the terrain ahead of the
jet. If an aircraft is below a mountain peak the shadow behind the peak diverges; if an airplane is
above a peak the shadow converges. Thus, the WSO would clear out to much farther range than
the pilot could see on his display.

The pilot had a logarithmic presentation of the ground that was weird: level ground would start
high on the far right at the greatest range displayed, and then curve down and left in a sort of
parabolic curve. The first half of the scope, from left to the center, was one mile. The next half of
the scope, from the center to three quarters, was another mile. Then, from three quarters to seven
eighths of the display was another mile, from seven eighths to fifteen sixteenths was another
mile, until finally hitting ten miles at the far right edge of the display. Thus, the pilot could see
terrain fairly clearly from the nose to about three miles or so. After that it all tended to blend in.
The terrain following radar was tied into the autopilot, or you could get a manual steering bar
and hand-fly it. We used the auto pilot most often, as when chasing the needles (steering cues)
we would tend to get focused only on the needles and would not be cross-checking our other
instruments as well as when we monitored the system with the autopilot flying it. It was just
safer to use the autopilot, as I was able to have a lot more situational awareness of what was
going on.

I learned to do manual TFR without the TFR computer working, which is called raw data TFR. I
was comfortable going down to around 500 feet doing that, although I only practiced the
technique during the day in Visual Flight Rules conditions, as it was truly a no-kidding, combat-
emergency-only technique

During normal operations the WSO would call the terrain down until the pilot called he had the
terrain and then the WSO would listen as the pilot would verbalize the climb for the terrain,
when they were clear of it, and then "painting out to xxxx miles.” The WSO would then call the
next terrain in. So you always had two people cross-checking terrain using two independent
systems. It was pretty safe, actually.

The lights in the cockpit were pretty bright. We had no forward-looking infrared picture at all.
The F model did have the Pave Tack pod for the WSO to target with, but that wasn't used to see
the terrain normally. The pilot had no way to see the Pave Tack video in the F model. Sometimes
we would be flying low through the mountains of New Mexico or southwest Texas and the jet’s
external rotating beacon would flash off the terrain that we were flying by and it would seem to
be right next to the wingtip. Some aircrew would turn it off as it unnerved them.

In the D model, the pilot could get distracted and see the radar, since it was a flat screen with no
hood around it. That was not good to do though. The pilot needed to stay focused on the TFR
and not sight-see on the radar scope. A quick story about distractions in the cockpit, especially in
the two-man side-by-side cockpit of the F-111:

When I went through training at Cannon AFB my instructor pilot was Fernando Ribas, the pilot
who died during Operation Eldorado Canyon (the raid on Libya) along with Paul Lawrence, a
great WSO I flew with several times at RAF Lakenheath in the F model.

On one instruction flight, our aircraft had a failure on the multi-Function Display. Fernando—
remember, he was a pilot, so think dog-watching-TV here—had to press four buttons and hold
them in to get a radar sweep in Narrow Sector Expand. This was the best mode to use for air-to-
ground targeting. He had to use both hands to do this. We were at 1,000 feet and were cleared
hot at the Melrose Bomb Range located about 25 miles West of Cannon AFB as the crow flies.
When he tried to move the cursor using the goat turd (the cursor control looked like a goat turd
and worked on pressure) there was no physical motion and he would lose the radar picture. He
wasn't going to give up. It was fascinating to watch: he would get a picture holding the buttons
in, then release it and move the cursor, then push the buttons again. Amazingly, he found the
target and had it nailed! Time ran down and we get a “no spot” call from the Range Control
Officer. Yep, I forgot to pickle (hit the trigger to release the weapon)—I was having so much fun
watching him that I didn't do my job.

Fernando was from Puerto Rico and had a strong accent. I had taken Spanish in high school and I
grew up in a town that was at least 30 percent Mexican-American and had lots of friends and
coworkers who spoke Spanish. That night I heard words that I never before heard in my life. If
we would not have been on auto pilot we would have died as I shrunk down to about two inches
high in shame.

This taught me a lesson, though. Keep your mind on the job and don't sight-see.

Bombs, bombs, and more bombs.

The WSO was far more important for mission accomplishment in the F-111 than in any other
aircraft. We were the night fighter for the USAF. When everyone else was grounded for weather,
we flew. No illumination flares needed, just get the radar working and away we go. TFR breaks?
Who cares. We had minimum en route altitudes planned for each leg and routinely flew
nighttime low levels in the mountains, using them as our TFRs broke a lot. As long as the Attack
Radar had a picture, we would find the target.

Our inertial navigation system was nice, but we trained to use dead reckoning and basic radar
scope interpretation to get to the target even without the INS. We had backups to the backups to
the backup. INS dead? Build a wind model and use the computers without the INS. That doesn't
work? Use a radar timed release based on a fixed angle offset. We practiced them all and got
good at them all.

We also carried a ton of bombs. My favorite was laser guided bombs (LGBs), of course, but
those were only in the F model. The D model could do them and I practiced a couple of times
with an F-4 buddy-lasing the target, and did a bunch with troops using ground-based lasers. Still,
my favorite was really the ballutes.

F-111F_dropping_high-drag_bombs.jpg

F-111F Dropping "Ballutes"

The MK-82 snake eyes used in Vietnam tended to fail if released above 450 knots. We didn't like
to be below 480 knots. Remember, speed is life. I preferred 540 knots. Slick bombs have a huge
blast radius and we had to climb pretty aggressively to avoid fragging ourselves when releasing
them down low. The solution was the BSU-49 and BSU-50. They basically had a parachute-like
balloon that would inflate even at supersonic speeds and retard (slow via drag) the bomb safely
behind us. Of course, if they didn't inflate you had problems. If I remember right, we would still
do a safe escape maneuver in case they went “slick” and failed to open.

If you watch the footage of the aircrew that hit the IL-76s on the ground in Libya, only one crew
out of six succeeded. You will see two of the bombs flash through the targeting video slick.
Thankfully, the crew made it back fine and destroyed two and damaged two of the transports.
Fast forward to 4:52 to see the Pave Tack footage of the strike:

During daytime I had backups, too. For dropping LGBs, if the INS failed, I would use dead
reckoning to get to the target, climb to 2,000 feet or so, and have the WSO put the Pave Tack
Pod to “snow plow” (looking straight ahead). I would pickle on the target and the WSO would
then track the target, designate it and guide the bomb in.

For a loft attack (toss bombing) I would have visual timer reference points to the pull-up and then to a manual
release. Some of the more elaborate toss and loft release profiles wouldn't work that well during
wartime, unless you were releasing a nuke. Even with 24,500 pounds of bombs you are not likely
to hit a target, but for an exercise by golly I would get my bombs off the airplane and at least
scare the gophers somewhere near the target area!

The F-111 was a very good bombing platform. It was extremely stable. We had a pilot that was a
year ahead of me who became a Weapons School grad, he won the Gunsmoke gunnery and
bombing competition and beat out the new F-16s using manual bombing in an F-111E.
I was not that good. However, I got really good at killing the drift and calculating the offset. We
would then be releasing a string of bombs, a minimum of four and often up to 20 or 24 (20 let us
sweep the wings back farther than 24 did). I could almost always put the string right through the
target. Maybe not the middle bomb, but the target would be hit.

F-111 with underwing bomb load.jpg


Some of the F-111 guys I flew with had been F-100 pilots in Vietnam. They would get down into
the weeds dropping Mk-82 snake eyes, pickling them off while in a ten degree dive while really,
really low. They said they could pick the window they wanted the bomb to fly through.

When I was at RAF Lakenheath we deployed to Incirlik Air Base in Turkey for a Weapons and
Tactics training. It was great flying and a fun time. On the flightline were tons of F-100s. When I
walked down it with our Ops Officer he would say "flew than one, and that one, and...."

One of our guys went to Konya Range on the ground as a range control officer and got to know
the Turkish F-100 pilots there. One of them showed him his Martin Baker coin that he got for
successfully ejecting from an F-100. The F-111 pilot said "wow, that's really unique!" The
Turkish pilot turned to the bar and shouted out "hey guys, show him your coins!" Almost every
single one of them had one. Ouch!

Nukes and the one-way plane ticket to Armageddon

F-111 and nukes. We all trained for it. We all were willing and ready for it. I feel—personal
opinion, not based on a poll—that most of us expected it to occur in our lifetime. We all got
good at it and there was always a group of F-111s loaded out and in the alert facility in the
middle of RAF Lakenheath ready to do the deed if called upon.

We knew we had about 15 minutes, max, to get airborne—and possibly less, as that was the
flight time for Russian submarine-launched nuclear-tipped ballistic missiles that would target the
base. All of the families living near the airfields in East Anglia would be toast.

To get airborne we had to respond fast. When I first got to RAF Lakenheath as a young
Lieutenant we had four door Dodge pickups with the HUGE V-8s. Massive horsepower and
four-wheel-drive as well as lights and sirens. When the klaxon sounded, that thing would scream.
We would go flying down the taxiway using fingers as the password. If the number of the day
was seven and the military police held up three fingers you would respond with four and keep
flying by. Once at the aircraft you would jump out, climb in, and fire the cart.

The cart was basically a solid-rocket fuel motor that put out a ton of smoke and pressure and was
used to spin up the number one engine. You then cross bled the air to the number two engine and
fired it up. This all happened very fast.

By this point in the process the WSO had the INS on a fast alignment and we would copy the
message. If it was valid, then out onto the taxiway, high speed up to the end of the runway, and
then off in full afterburner to end the world.

We all practiced this over and over and over again. Every alert you would at least scramble once,
but we would never taxi out of the alert area. Once the wall fell it all came to a stop. Even with
terrorism, the world is a far safe place today than it was during the Cold War.

One of the stories told to us by a visiting general was of a volatile time in the Cold War when it
was so tense at one of the bases, I think in Spain, that they weren't supposed to run any exercises.
This might have been Torrejon Air Base, which had B-47s in the early ‘60s. They made a
mistake and launched to an airborne hold (where jets are armed and waiting in the air for the
order to execute nuclear strikes). Evidently, every single pilot thought it was the real thing. They
knew they wouldn't launch unless it was real. They got to the hold point and found out it was an
exercise.

The point the general made was that every single aircrew executed—not one balked. They
launched while convinced their families were dead, as every base was targeted, but they
launched nonetheless.

I was absolutely convinced I would have to nuke a Warsaw Pact nation, as that was about all we
could hit with the F-111. We had a couple of targets in Russia where we would have had to
recover with emergency fuel at one of the far northern bases in Norway. But really, we all knew
the base would be gone and we would have to punch out. We also knew that we would not be the
first nuke on the target. Every single target I ever saw had ICBMs and then SLBMs and then us
on it, and then hours and hours later, the stateside B-52s and B-1s.

We always practiced World War III as starting conventional, usually with the Russians punching
through the Fulda Gap. I remember looking at the plans and seeing that we had a handful of
tanks to stop them, compared to thousands of Russian and East German tanks lined up just
waiting to punch through. We would fall back, and back, and then stand down, load up the
nukes, and then sortie. Exercise over.

The Russians, however, planned to fight through the nuclear war and win. I don't know how it
would have really turned out. Every single one of us was absolutely shocked when the wall
suddenly fell and the USSR was no more. In hindsight, it was inevitable.
You go back and read the stories, though, and I don't think anyone saw it coming. What a relief it
was when Germany reunited and we found out Ivan wasn't ten feet tall after all. Yeah, we knew
our stuff was better, but face it—they had a gazillion of their stuff.

Aardvark’s effectiveness

Most of my fellow F-111 aircrews and I were good, and we really felt we would take the target
out. But let's look at the raid on Libya: 24 aircraft launch, several break and return, one crashes.
Out of the three targets targeted by the aircraft that made it to the target area, only three aircraft
hit the target—one on each target. All the others missed.

It was terrible when I look back on it, but hats off to the crew who flew it! This was even with
the Pave Tack pod on the aircraft and with two of the targets being attacked with LGBs, the
airport used MK-82s but had the Pave Tack pod to find and designate the target.

The aircrew that hit the airport, hats off to them! I knew the WSO extremely well, a good friend
and fellow instructor for several years. In watching his tape, he nailed the radar offset for the
airport. The radar was not good at burning out flat concrete but did much better on targets with
more radar reflectivity. He went to narrow sector expand mode on the offset and then switched
back to the Pave Tack infrared video, and nothing appeared. He went back and checked the
offset again, and still dead on. The he switched back to the Pave Tack. Every other aircraft let the
bombs fly using the radar offset. Their bombs hit the airfield between the taxiway and the
runway. The coordinates on the offset were evidently bad.

My friend went from narrow sector to wide sector in the Pave Tack and in the right side edge of
the field of view he caught sight of the IL-76s. You hear him shout "come right come right" to
the Pilot who is seeing nothing except tons of anti-aircraft artillery exploding and his TFR
screen. The pilot made a hard turn. As he rolls out, his WSO has fired the lasers and the bombs
immediately flew off. You see in the video the Pave Tack’s video rotate to upside down due to
the mechanics of the pod rotating to see the target behind the aircraft. The WSOs had to learn
how to track upside down when guiding LGBs. You then see a huge explosion rip through the
airplanes. That was incredible teamwork in the cockpit. Good on the WSO to switch to wide
field of view—it went from a really narrow straw to a slightly fatter straw to look through, but
got him onto the target.

Mission success.

Fast forward to Desert Storm five years later. Most aircraft on the first night hit their targets
successfully. In fact, I think all but the few who turned back due to bad Mode 4 IFF or other
maintenance issues hit their targets.

Keeping skills sharp in the F-111 community

I trained for five and a half years in the F-111. I had a little over 900 hours. We just didn't fly as
much as other aircraft did. Our short missions were two and a half hours long. I was getting
around 200 hours a year and I had moves, deployments, vacation etc. that cut that down some.
Some of our missions would be three and a half-plus hours long, all on internal fuel, no bags
(external fuel tanks). The plane had legs, and boy was it fast.

It all worked out to about 90 flights a year. How about that F-16 guy, a bunch of .9 hour or less
air-to-air hops, I'm guessing. Let's be generous and say every sortie was 1.3 hours on average. If
they flew the same 200 hours, then they flew many more flights, as the F-16 just didn't break the
way the Vark did. If you do the math, that would equal over 150 sorties a year for the F-16 guy.
Guess what? They dropped the same number of bombs, on average, every mission—six from the
trusty old SUU-20 practice bomb rack.

In the F-111, we would use two of these practice bombs per mission to keep our radar laydown
and toss tactics up to snuff, and the remaining four for visual dive bombing. The F-16 driver,
even counting their air-to-air training flights, got way more bombs per year than us. The A-10
guys, it was no comparison. All they did was bomb and strafe, bomb and strafe. Love the A-10.


Io6nN.jpg

Aussie F-111 doing the dump and burn during an air show.

The F-111’s infamous “dump and burn” maneuver

We had an F-111D from Cannon AFB head out to Canada for Maple Flag in the ‘80s. Everybody
did an unofficial "arrival show." Upon arrival in the overhead pattern the F-16s would pull 9 gs,
the F-15s would pull 9 gs, the F-4s would pull 7 gs, the A-10s would pull however many they
could. Then again, for the Warthog it didn't really matter how many gs, as it could turn on a
dime. And then there was the F-111.

If really light and pushing .95 mach or so while over-speeding the wings (if wings were swept
forward, the jet was mach-limited) you might get 5 gs for a nano-second or so, and then you
would be doing about .001 mach. Your awesome break turn would have taken half the state of
Texas, too.

The pilot at the center of this story was a great guy. He was a high-time flyer with many
thousands of hours under his belt. What was he to do? Sneak in and go hide in the corner of the
bar while everyone else bragged? Nope. He came around and leveled off about ten feet above the
runway and hit the dump switch, paused, then stroked the burners.

Dumping and Torching needed to be in that order. If you torched first and then dumped you
ended up with more fizzle and far less flame. For Olympic-class style points, even from the
Russian judge, you needed to let the fuel fully aerosolize and then light the cans. The result? A
massive stream of fire double the length of the jet pouring out of its tail.

There was Dick, streaking all the way down the runway trailing a wall of flame behind him. Best
thing ever next to Napalm! The crowd went wild, but no buying beers for him and his WSO that
night. When he pulled up in a closed pattern to land and threw the gear down, he looked at the
runway. It was still burning. His fire had lit up all the rubber from the skid marks from aircraft
landing!

He really thought he was going to get in trouble but the Canadians loved it. They said it was the
best show they had ever seen!

The Vark’s weaknesses and strengths in retrospect

The F-111 was great at low altitude. It did good in Desert Storm, too. Great legs, lots of bombs,
and really, really fast! It couldn't turn worth a darn. That's okay, and for most of Desert Storm it
was fine. It was rightly retired because it was nine percent of Tactical Air Command's fleet but
ate up a whopping 25 percent of the maintenance budget.

Too often I would lose the radar because its mean-time between failure (MTBF) was less than 20
hours or so. Other systems like INS had a MTBF that was far less than 20 hours. When the TFR
went out I would end up with a twin engine F-100 and would have to bomb using “iron sights.”
Still, it could haul lots of bombs and was stable as all get out.

Weakness? They took the gun out. General Creech, a TAC commander during the F-111
development, was quoted saying he wasn't going to have a $20 million dollar airplane strafing
$20,000 trucks. We could only carry the AIM-9P Sidewinder with no radar cueing, and that was
the mid ‘80s before it became routine to have the Aim-9 loaded up at all. The AIM-9P is only
going to hit if launched from the rear against someone running hot, and we had no
maneuverability to get to the rear of the bad guy. At least the smoke trail coming off my wing
after launching the thing might make the other guy flinch, so I could get low and run like a
scalded ape.

The capsule ejection system was both a weakness and a strength. We had a lot of guys mess up
their backs with ejections. A squadron commander at Mountain Home was a paraplegic after
ejecting, when the air bag failed to work. We never had anyone die from wind-blast, though. We
had several supersonic ejections, no big deal. Plus, when ejecting into the cold ocean, you don't
get wet until they show up to rescue you.

It did take too long to get the chute deployment during ejection, though. It was something like 10
seconds from pulling the handle to the chute deploying. I had an instructor pilot who was my
cadet squadron commander when I was a sophomore at the Academy who ejected at Mountain
Home when he had a compressor stall doing a break turn at 500 feet above the field. The A
model did not have the mod at that time to keep it from departing in yaw when exceeding the
max angle of attack. With the loss of thrust he had less than a second to go full forward on the
stick to avoid a high speed stall/departure. They punched out too low and both crew died.

The amount of bombs the F-111 could carry was definitely a strength. I have a picture of the F-
111C dropping 48 Mk-82s. I think he had to be in full burner to barely get to 10,000 feet. They
used fixed pylons on the outboard stations to carry six 500-pounders on each pylon. You can't
sweep the wings unless you punch the pylons off. Totally impractical, but also really cool!
Range was a huge plus for the F-111. I did a four-hour low-level using internal fuel and two
weapons bay tanks with no wing tanks. Try to do that in a Strike Eagle or a Viper. Of course,
who on Earth in their right mind wants to sit in an ejection seat for 4 hours while flying
continuously at low-level?

The Vark's big strength was that it was fast as hell. I routinely cruised at .95 mach in military
power (full throttle with no afterburner augmentation) while on the deck. The F model was
nearly super cruise-capable. I saw 1.1 mach on the deck in a D model, and I knew guys who had
the F model up to 1.4 mach on the deck! It held enough gas to do it for a while, too. Not many
planes could keep up.

Living the swing-wing dream

My favorite memory while flying the Vark remains as vivid in my mind today as the day after it
happened. I was flying right at sunset, dropping bombs in the North Sea off of Eastern Scotland.
We had a Pave Tack pod but no way to really measure miss distance, but at least we could see
the smoke from the practice bombs and if it was close to the target, we could tell. It was kind of
like plinking cans with a .22—not really doing much damage but fun nonetheless.

It was completely overcast and very dark under the clouds with marginal visibility. In other
words, standard English weather! We were grounded from night flying on the TFR at the time
due to maintenance problems. We had several instances, including a fatal crash at night, where
the TFR failed in ways the engineers had no idea it could, even though the system was nearly 20
years old by then.

Since we had to knock off at sunset I was watching my clock. By then it was getting really dark
under the clouds, especially since we were out over the ocean with no lights anywhere. I waited
until the last second and then lit both burners. 54,000 pounds of thrust awoke behind us and I
pulled back on the stick to punch up through the clouds.

We weren't allowed to do any over-the-top maneuvers. No loops, Cuban 8s, Immelmanns, etc.
To be legal, I therefore went to 89 degrees of pull instead of 90 degrees. We hit the clouds on our
back and punched through very quickly as the layer wasn't very thick. It surprised me when I
saw, upside down, the most beautiful sight I had seen yet while flying: The sun was suspended,
half-buried in a field of solid white with a fiery display in the cirrus high altitude clouds still
above me. I froze the climb while inverted, still with my nose 45 degrees above the horizon, still
in full afterburner, and said to my WSO:

"And we get paid for doing this?!"

Via globalsecurity.org
A huge thanks to Richard Crandall for sharing his incredible experiences in the F-111 with us.
 
F-16N Cutout Drawing.jpg


http://www.thedrive.com/the-war-zon...ting-the-f-16n-viper-topguns-legendary-hotrod

What It Was Like Flying And Fighting The
F-16N Viper, Topgun's Legendary Hotrod

It was hideously fast, incredibly maneuverable and a huge
step forward for the US Navy's aerial adversary capabilities.

By Paul Nickell And Tyler Rogoway
May 9, 2016

In the late 1980s, F-14 Tomcat pilot and Topgun instructor Paul Nickell found himself strapping
into the cockpit of a brand new Navy jet that would never land on an aircraft carrier. Instead, it
was built specifically to challenge the skills of the best fighter crews the Navy had to offer. It
was a stripped down, up-engined, exotically painted variant of the already nimble F-16. General
Dynamics built only 26 of them, and the fleet served less than a decade before being
controversially retired, but the impression the jet made was legendary.

For part one of a multi-part, in-depth series on Paul Nickell’s incredible experiences flying
fighters during one of the most celebrated eras of naval aviation, here is the F-16N’s story told
through the eyes of one of the small cadre of Topgun flyers that pushed it to its limits on a daily
basis.

Genesis Of The F-16N

I served nine years on active duty, which meant that I never made it to DC for a Pentagon tour,
fortunately. As a result, I’m not very familiar with the acquisition process for military aircraft
with respect to the Pentagon and Congress. By the early to mid 1980s, it was becoming obvious
that potential adversaries were fielding aircraft with greatly improved maneuvering capabilities
and advanced air-to-air radars that supporti an increasingly reliable forward-quarter, head-on
threat profile.

From a training standpoint, we could no longer ignore this improved capability, but it was
difficult to train to the latest threat without the supporting hardware needed to emulate it. The
Navy’s decision to purchase the F-16N was made in January 1985 while I was still flying
Tomcats in the fleet with VF-24. Since I was not there at the time, I was not really aware of how
the decision was made, nor was it mentioned much while I was at Topgun.

Interestingly, I do recall seeing an F-16 taxiing around at Miramar while I was flying F-14’s that
said “F-16/79” on the side. Someone mentioned that it was a jet the Navy was looking at for an
adversary aircraft, but I only recall seeing it once or twice. Having done some research myself,
and also consulting a number of the Topgun contacts who were around when the decision was
made, it’s quite obvious that there were a lot of politics involved, from the macro level to the
micro level.

That’s not a good thing, nor a bad thing; just a reality for a decision with such far reaching
implications. The following were a few of the players ultimately involved: President Jimmy
Carter, President Ronald Reagan, Taiwan, China, South Korea, Pakistan, Venezuela, Turkey,
Greece, US State Department, US Congress, Secretary of Defense, Northrop, General Dynamics,
US Air Force, US Navy, National Guard, Navy Fighter Weapons School, and the Navy’s
adversary program.

I’ll start by saying that designing and building a fourth generation fighter is an extremely
expensive endeavor. The only way to sell them at an affordable price is to sell them in large
quantities. There was no way that purchasing 26 aircraft for the Navy would pay for a project
such as that, even if the Air Force and Marines had become involved. The only way for the Navy
to obtain an affordable fourth generation adversary aircraft was to use something already in
production or a variant of the same.

F-14A VF-213 F-16N - Fights On! 2.jpg

F-14A vs. F-16N Dissimilar Air Combat Training (DACT)

To further complicate the issue, you need a dissimilar aircraft to train against effectively. If you
put two F-14s against two other F-14s, it works fine until the aircraft merge in mock aerial
combat. After the first turn in the visual arena, it’s virtually impossible to keep track of which F-
14 is your wingman and which ones are the opponents. With this in mind the Navy needed a
relatively small number of dissimilar, fourth generation fighters at a cheap price. To narrow the
options, according to the commanding officer of Topgun at the time, they were focused on
selecting a US made aircraft. They were aware of the Israel Aircraft Industries F-21 Kfir during
the selection process, however it was not a US made aircraft, and they did not believe the Navy
would have entertained the idea of purchasing the Kfir for the fourth generation adversary
aircraft. It was never seriously considered.

To understand the selection process, a short look at history is in order. In the late 70s the Carter
administration had placed limitations on the export of front-line US fighters in an attempt to
curtail the transfer of technology to the Soviets. At the same time, the US Department of
Defense, seeking to make our allies stronger, encouraged the development of fighters that were
capable of handling the latest Soviet threat, but without the latest and greatest in technology.
Two US companies were looking for revenue in this area. Northrop, maker of the F-5E Tiger II,
was looking at building upon that design to provide a viable option for Foreign Military Sales
(FMS). Going through several iterations, the F-5E morphed to the F-5G as a participant in the
FX program, and finally in 1982 it became the F-20 Tigershark.

F-20.jpg
Northrop F-20 Tigershark

The F-20 was a very capable fourth generation fighter. At the same time, General Dynamics was
looking at a way to obtain business through Foreign Military Sales for its F-16. Unlike
Northrop’s problem, General Dynamics had to determine a way of dumbing down its fighter
while still keeping it attractive to foreign countries. In 1979 they announced the F-16/79. It
would be powered by the venerable General Electric J79 turbojet engine, the same engine that
powered the F-4 Phantom and many other military aircraft of the previous couple of decades. It
would be heavier and have less thrust than the F100 turbofan powered F-16A/B, and would have
downgraded avionics. The selling points were a cheaper price tag and a jet that could be exported
to foreign countries. However, by 1980 the Carter administration was already loosening its
restrictions on foreign sales, and with the election of Ronald Reagan as president in late 1980,
the restrictions would be further reduced.

By the early ‘80s the Navy had identified the need for a fourth generation adversary aircraft with
a small price tag. The two readily available options were the F-16/79 and the F-20. General
Dynamics brought the F-16/79 to Naval Air Station Miramar, and at least five Topgun
Instructors including the CO flew the jet. They felt it was acceptable. The CO felt that the F-16N,
based upon a proven, capable, and respected airframe, was a new look compared to the vintage
F-5 and its follow-on F-20, and he felt that it was the best choice. Unfortunately, although
Northrop allowed some instructors to fly the F-20 simulator, they were never allowed to fly the
actual aircraft itself. Some thought this was because Northrop did not want to jeopardize their
foreign military sales by any type of negative evaluation by the Navy.

As the Reagan administration relaxed FMS restrictions, the F-16/79 faded from the Navy’s short
list for a new aggressor aircraft and was eventually replaced by the F-16N. During that same
period of time the F-20 was able to be enhanced. Unfortunately in October 1984, just prior to the
final decision, one of three existing F-20’s crashed and the pilot was killed. Ultimately the Navy
chose the F-16N. The decision was announced in January 1985.

During the same period, the Air Force was directed to look at the F-20 Tigershark as a dissimilar
aggressor aircraft. Additionally the Air National Guard looked at it as an operational aircraft.
Then in May 1985 the second of the three prototype F-20s crashed and the pilot was killed. The
crash happened as the F-20 team was preparing for the Paris Airshow. Both crashes were
eventually attributed to G loss of consciousness (GLOC). Ultimately the decision of both the Air
Force and Air National Guard was to maintain commonality by sticking with the F-16. In late
1986 the F-20 Tigershark program was cancelled.

Having spent a great deal of time researching how this decision was made, I have an even greater
respect for my predecessor instructors at Topgun. As a recipient of their efforts, I was able to fly
a magnificent fourth generation adversary aircraft, one that seemingly fell into my lap, yet the
true recipients of their efforts were the Navy and Marine Corps aircrews who were able to train
against the N. I never realized how much effort had been put forth on our behalf by a group of
guys who would never get to personally reap the fruits of their labor.

The Navy's Hot Rod Viper

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The F-16N looked like an F-16C block 30 airframe, powered by the General Electric F110-GE-
100 engine with 25,735 pounds of thrust in full afterburner. It normally weighed less than 25,000
pounds with full internal fuel. Later blocks of F-16s had a larger air intake, because that was
apparently a limiting factor for the GE engine. With the bigger intake the engine could develop
almost 29,000 pounds of thrust.

We normally flew the N with an AIM-9 Sidewinder captive training round on the left wing-tip,
and an ACMI (air combat maneuvering instrumentation) pod on the right wing tip if we were
going to be operating on a range equipped to support the system. Otherwise the wings were clean
with no pylons to add weight and drag. We could carry a fuel tank on the cernterline belly
station, but usually didn’t on the single seat models. The two-seater TF-16N Topgun had held
about 1200 pounds less fuel than the single seat F-16N models, so they were flown with a
centerline fuel tank at times.

The F-16N’s radar was the APG-66 from the standard F-16A/B model. My feeling was that this
was done to keep the price down. The APG-66 radar was adequate for the missions that we
conducted, however I was never exposed to the more advanced APG-68 radar from the C/D
model to determine all of the differences. I know that the APG-68 did have a Track While Scan
(TWS) capability and the APG-66 did not.

The F-16N had no gun. Consequently Topgun gun dets (detachments away from their home base
for gunnery practice) came to an end as the F-5 departed the inventory. The lack of the cannon
eliminated approximately 250 pounds of weight, plus the weight of the ammunition storage and
feed system. It left a fairly large compartment on top of the left side of the fuselage where we
could throw a gear bag when going on any type of overnight mission. Because of the removal of
the gun, some ballast weight had to be placed in the forward part of the fuselage to keep the
aircraft center of gravity within limits. The HUD still displayed a Lead Computing Optical
System (LCOS) gun sight, and we could select “GUN” and simulate gun shots, there was just no
physical gun in the jet. Additionally there was no Airborne Self Protection Jammer (ASPJ) since
the aircraft would not be flown in a true hostile environment.

Unlike the F-14, the Viper had no noticeable reduction in acceleration as you approached Mach
1. Bottom line, it was sleek and it was fast. I’ve personally seen it achieve Mach two.
Another great training asset that came with the jet was an audio/video recording system for the
radar display and HUD. It definitely made recall of engagements much easier and really
steepened the learning curve. Finally, the lower wing attach fittings of the jet were manufactured
out of titanium, assuming that the aircraft would experience more high-G maneuvering based
upon the mission it would be used for by the Navy.

One thing that we had to be careful about was the fact that the jet would do supersonic cruise
(supercruise) in the configuration that we flew it. Generally slick, at altitude it could go
supersonic with no afterburner with the help of its powerful General Electric engine. This was
something we had to keep in mind transiting around the country. Unlike the F-14, there was not a
noticeable reduction in acceleration as you approached Mach 1. Bottom line, it was sleek and it
was fast. I’ve personally seen it achieving Mach two.

The “N” Versus Its Predecessors

North thirty two fifty two six, west one one seven zero seven six; numbers that are indelibly
etched in my brain. Throw them into your “maps” app and you’ll find yourself located on the old
Topgun ramp at Naval Air Station Miramar. That’s where I was standing on the 17th of June,
1987 when the Topgun Commanding Officer and Training officer flew the first two Topgun F-
16Ns into Miramar. Having programmed those numbers into the inertial navigation system
(INS) so many times, after almost thirty years, they’re stuck in my brain.

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F-16, F-5, A-4, TA-4, T-2 (near to far, right to left)

Adding the F-16N to Topgun and the Navy’s adversary inventory was a huge step forward for
Navy fighter tactical training. Although the A-4 and F-5 had their limitations, it’s amazing what
they had been capable of when employed well. But the times, they were a changin’! If you asked
me to pick my favorite of the three, I would be hard pressed to give you a definitive answer.
They each had their qualities and quirks. I loved flying all of them, and for a period of about 3
months during the transition, we were able to do just that. Then the F-5’s departed, and it was
sad to see it go.

From a standpoint of transitioning the squadron pilots over to the F-16N, there were definite
challenges. We had about 15 pilots at any time, and we were attempting to transition to the F-
16N between Topgun classes, usually about a six week break. A group of six pilots departed near
the end of a class and went to Luke Air Force Base for a month of Air Force training which
would include ground school, simulators, and two flights in F-16Ds with Pratt and Whitney
engines. The plan was that the remainder of us would go to a week of ground school at General
Dynamics (at the time the manufacturer of the F-16) and then return and fly our first flight in the
N with one of the qualified pilots in a chase aircraft.

Once the Topgun class concluded the remaining nine of us headed to Fort Worth for the General
Dynamics training. The Navy had purchased 26 F-16s, however the two seaters would be the last
four airframes off of the assembly line. That may have made sense from a production standpoint,
but it was terrible from a training standpoint. The group that went to Luke AFB returned, and
shortly after that, the decision was made that since the Navy had no two-seat aircraft, the nine of
us who had gone to General Dynamics would now need to go to Luke AFB for the same training
that the first six had gone through.

As I recall, due to scheduling at Luke AFB, the first six F-16N qualified instructors flew them
with the next Topgun class, while the remaining nine of us flew the A-4s and F-5s. Once that
class was complete, the remaining nine Topgun instructors, plus a new instructor, departed for
Luke and completed our training there. I had my second F-16D ride at Luke on the 26th of
August, and after a morning A-4 flight back to Miramar the next day, I flew my first F-16N
flight on the afternoon of 27th August.

The funniest thing that I remember about that flight was sitting on the runway looking through
the HUD, advancing the throttle with my left hand, and swatting around all between my knees
with my right hand trying to find the stick. I obviously knew that it was on the right console (the
F-16 has a sidestick cockpit layout), but having flown the A-4 that morning, I reverted right back
to how I had always flown aircraft!

The advantage that our pilots had was that we were all fighter pilots before we got in the F-16.
We were also already checked out as adversary pilots. Some had flown the F/A-18 and were very
experienced running an air-to-air radar and using the HUD for flying. F-14 pilots, with their
Radar Intercept Offers in back, hadn’t. Combining all of these things together, we had a very
steep learning curve. We developed a FAM/TAC (familiarization/tactics) syllabus for the F-16N
modeled off those already in place for our A-4a and F-5a. For those of us already qualified in the
other two aircraft, we abbreviated the syllabus. We obviously still had a great deal to learn about
the F-16N, but we were full up and ready to go when the next class arrived.

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The N was an amazingly powerful jet with a one-to-one plus thrust-to-weight ratio at takeoff. It
could take off, pitch straight up, and maintain its airspeed—to a point. Obviously as it got higher
and the air got thinner, it would lose performance. But a burner takeoff roll in the N was the next
best thing to a catapult shot off a carrier!

In flight it was very responsive in pitch and roll and flew very smoothly. It did have the standard
F-16 angle of attack and G limiters set at 30 degrees angle of attack and nine positive Gs. Once
you got to one of those limits, it would give you no more. Any aircraft is like that, they can only
give you so much. But they’re usually talking to you through things like buffet and wing rock as
they approach that point, so you’re more aware that it has no more to give. The F-16 could be
flying very smoothly at a slow speed and be at its angle of attack limit and you could pull with
all your might, but you weren’t going to move the nose any more as its computerized flight
control system limited you from doing so.

We actually had a minor mid-air collision between an N and an F-14 during the first year of
flying them, and as I recall the F-16s flight control automation was a contributing factor. The F-
16’s wingtip rail grazed the F-14’s trailing-edge flap. Also as with the other F-16 variants, it had
an aft center of gravity and fly by wire flight controls to keep it under control in pitch. If you
pulled back on the stick, initially the leading edge of the horizontal stabilizers would go down to
start the nose of the aircraft pitching up. As you got the desired pitch rate and stopped increasing
the pull on the stick, the leading edge of the horizontal stabilizers would actually go up to stop
the pitch rate from increasing. We did have the ability to override the computer with a switch,
but it was only for use in an emergency situation. Thankfully I never had to use it, however I was
once fighting another F-16N whose pilot was required to do so.

Tactically, the A-4’s performance was very similar to the MiG-17, although not quite as good. In
the mid ‘80s, the MiG-17 was definitely no longer a front line Soviet fighter, but it was still
operational in many third world countries that we considered threats. The same things could be
said for our F-5s that simulated MiG-21s, although there were large numbers of the ‘21s still
operational in the world at that time.

The F-5 could also simulate the MiG-23 if it stayed fast and made large arcing turns, and the ‘23
was operational all over the world. However, neither the A-4 or F-5 could properly simulate the
fourth generation threats (Mig-29, Su-27 etc). The beauty of the F-16N was that it could simulate
all of these threats well if flown properly by the adversary pilot. To simulate the MiG-17 or a
similar threat, we simply flew the F-16 full up, except we never used the afterburner. To simulate
the MiG-21, we flew it full up, except we would select more than zone two (zone five being the
max) afterburner. To simulate the MiG-23 we flew the F-16N at the speed of heat and made no
turns greater than about four G. On top of that, we could simulate the fourth generation Soviet
fighters, the SU 27 and MIG 29, if we flew it full up, full burner and at any speed.

I think that the arrival of the F-16N finally brought Naval Aviation to the reality that we had
truly entered into the fourth generation threat arena. Prior to that time, we didn’t train to a large
extent to confront forward-quarter capable threats (shooting down an enemy aircraft from front)
because it was difficult to simulate shots, and we generally did not kill-remove fighters during
exercises for forward quarter shots by bogeys. Now the adversary aircraft had a recordable radar
and HUD which could be viewed in the debrief to validate forward quarter shots. The HUD also
allowed instructors to make visual contact with opposing fighters much sooner, and the F-16’s
bowless bubble canopy allowed us to maintain it more easily.

Having flown the F-14 and A-4, both of which had multiple canopy bows and items everywhere
blocking your outward vision, the visibility from the cockpit of the F-16 was spectacular! The
thirty degree recline of the seat was comfortable, and felt very natural. It was supposed to allow
the aircrew to withstand the high G forces better, although it did seem to help some in that
regard, since your neck was now bent about thirty degrees between your upright head and your
reclined body, turning your head and looking aft in under high G forces seemed more difficult.
Another nice thing that we had with the N was a Radar Warning Receiver (RWR). This allowed
the bogeys to know that their aircraft had been locked up by a fighter radar. When you added up
all of these advances that the F-16N brought to the adversary pilot, they truly allowed us to
simulate a very capable fourth generation threat, even in the absence of GCI (ground control
intercept) radar control for the bogeys and/or the use of an instrumented range.

Putting The F-16N To Work At Topgun

Initially the addition of the fourth generation adversary threat was phased in at the end of each
phase of the Topgun class. For example, in the 1 V 1 phase, students would still fight simulators
of second and third generation fighters early in the phase. However by the end of the phase, we
now had the capability of exposing students to a fourth generation dissimilar threat.
Each phase was done in a building block approach, as was the entire course. Normally as
students progressed through the class to the latter phases, most flights had some type of scenario
as a backdrop, so the students would have an idea of what the threat capabilities might be, and
the tactics that they might be likely to use. Early class lectures prepared them in both of these
areas. Obviously the further the class progressed, the more likely students would be to see a full
up F-16N threat. If we were working with fleet squadrons or the RAG (replacement air group),
we could do whatever they needed based upon their training objectives at the time.

One problem that a fourth generation threat exposed us to was the inability to analyze the
forward quarter battle. Instrumented ranges made this much easier, but attempting to do this on
non-instrumented ranges was challenging. In the forward-quarter arena, when shots are taken
relative to each other, missile flight times and aircraft maneuvering can all play into the
difference between a kill, and being killed. Forward quarter shot kill removal had to become a
reality, but it needed to be accurate. Consequently following the 1 V 1 phase, we did as much
flying on instrumented ranges at Yuma, Fallon, and occasionally Nellis as possible. These ranges
could accurately simulate the forward quarter missile shots.

Probably the biggest side benefit for the instructors was that now we no longer simply had to talk
the talk, we had to walk the walk. For all but the former F/A-18 and F-15 (exchange) pilots, this
was the first time that we had operated an air-to-air radar and practiced tactical intercept
communications. With the use of the radar/HUD recorders, we could do a much better job of
debriefing ourselves after the fighter debrief was complete. The end result over time, based upon
our experiences flying he F-16N, would be changes in what was taught at Topgun and
consequently what was put out to the fleet.

We had a total of eight F-16Ns at Topgun. With the departure of the F-5s, we had around seven
or eight A-4s, plus we eventually got a TA-4. Normally the F-16s would work in sections of two
aircraft. In the larger scenarios, we would normally have a section of F-16s as leaders with a
section of A-4s hanging on behind them. If the “Dogs” (A-4s) got separated from the F-16s, they
would obviously then become more dependant upon ground radar operator control. It all
depended upon the scale of the mission, and the scenario that we were using. However, it was a
safe bet that virtually any threat country with fourth generation fighters would be using a section
of two aircraft together at a minimum, and we did the same.

Parrying The Super Nimble F-16N

The F-14’s and F/A-18’s greatest defense against a full-up fourth generation threat was to win
the forward quarter battle, and both had the ability to do just that. The F-14, with its two man
crew, AWG-9 radar, AIM-54 missile launch-and-leave capability, and AIM- 7 and AIM-9
forward-quarter capable missiles, definitely could excel prior to the merge. Post-merge, short of
perfect situational awareness and arriving in a position of advantage over a fourth generation
threat, in particular an F-16N, the F-14 did not need to engage in a turning fight. That’s not to
say that an F-14 could not win a turning fight with an F-16, but it would require a superior job by
the F-14 crew and mistakes by the threat pilot. The F-16N simply enjoyed a significant
maneuvering advantage over the Tomcat.

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F/A-18 Hornet

The Hornet also enjoyed outstanding capabilities in the forward quarter, and could also win the
battle there. Additionally the Hornet could also turn with most fourth generation threats in a
turning fight. The scale could be tipped simply by how the Hornet was configured and how the
threat aircraft was configured. A slick Hornet (configured with no external stores) taking on an
F-16N was a great fight. Probably the biggest advantage that the Hornet had was the lack of an
angle of attack limiter, which the F-16 did have. In a very slow knife fight, the Hornet could
achieve a higher angle of attack and slow its down-course speed, flushing the F-16 out in front of
it. Obviously this was about the last place a Hornet wanted to be in a true hostile all-aspect
weapons capability environment, but in a sterile 1 V 1 engagement, this capability might give the
Hornet an advantage. To counter this, the F-16N did not want to get into a slow-speed fight with
the Hornet.

During my time at Topgun, we simulated a variety of threat weapons starting with the basics, the
gun. We demonstrated and emphasized how lethal the gun could be even in high-angle off passes
in a close in fight. From an air-to-air missile standpoint, we simulated the AA-2 Atoll, AA-7
Apex, AA-8 Aphid, AA-10 Alamo, and the AA-11 Archer. The Atoll and Aphid missiles were
close-in and primarily rear quarter infrared (IR) homing missiles, like older Sidewinder variants.
The Apex and Alamo were primarily forward quarter simi-active radar guided missiles loosely
similar to our AIM-7 Sparrow. With the arrival of the F-16N, we did start simulating the Archer,
an all aspect IR missile with off-boresight capability.

Typically this would be part of the loadout when the N was being used to simulate a fourth
generation threat. To simulate the Archer, we carried an AIM-9L or M simulator, and used the
targeting symbology displayed on the HUD. The seeker could be boresighted or slaved to the
radar, for limited off boresight capability. We did not have helmet mounted sights like those
Russia had to target their Archer missiles far off their aircraft’s nose during a dogfight. Still,
simulating the Archer even without it reinforced the fact that a turning fight with a fourth
generation threat could be very deadly.

Prior to my arrival at Topgun, the squadron received its first of a number of successive Air Force
exchange pilots. Each was an F-15 pilot and a graduate of the Air Force F-15 Fighter Weapons
School. Each was hand selected by the F-15 Fighter Weapons School to serve with us for a two
to three year tour. They were all great assets to Topgun, and through them we developed a great
rapport with the Weapons School at Nellis AFB.

Usually once a year as both schools’ schedules allowed, we would meet at Nellis or Miramar for
an exchange of the latest information and to do a little 1 V 1 flying. During one of these
exchanges I remember going out into the SOCAL restricted airspace area in an F-16N with an F-
15C. As I recall, most of the engagements ended up relatively neutral… except for one.

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F-15 Eagle Demonstration Team 2

On this particular engagement I, with probably less than 100 hours in the F-16, was rapidly
becoming offensive on the F-15, whose FWS instructor pilot probably had 2000 hours in the
Eagle. Something was just not adding up, but I accredited it to my superior airmanship, and that
was a mistake! He started going vertical and I, slightly in lag, started right up behind him. As we
were pointed straight up, I saw this barn door size panel open on the top of his jet (speedbrake)
and quickly realized that I had a lot of closure on him. At that point I transitioned to panic and
collision avoidance mode. I successfully streaked right past him vertically, and as I did I noticed
the barn door closing.

Within a few seconds I had gone from a windscreen full of F-15, to looking back over my
shoulder, straight down at him, trapped exactly where he wanted me to be; completely in control,
at my six o’clock. He had baited me, and I had taken it hook, line, and sinker. We both had a
good laugh about it in the debrief and I’ll bet he’s told that story a hundred times since!
Although we were close with the F-15 FWS guys, we didn’t work with the F-16 FWS guys, even
though we were flying F-16s. In the Air Force, the F-16’s mission was to a large extent air-to-
ground, or what we considered “Attack” in Navy terms. Since at the time Topgun’s
concentration was exclusively on the air-to-air or “Fighter” mission in Navy terms, we worked
more closely with the F-15 guys as their mission was the same. For that reason, I never had the
opportunity to fly the F-16N against any other variant of the F-16.

Keeping The F-16N In The Fight

During my time flying the F-16N, it was a very reliable jet. Obviously there are some qualifiers
that go along with that statement. It was a brand new aircraft, so the parts still had a great deal of
life left in them. Additionally at Topgun we had great maintainers, and we had money and parts
support priority to keep the jets flying. I don’t recall ever flying an F-16 with a failed radar. That
was a far cry from my F-14 experience. Obviously as time went on, other problems would
develop.

I do recall a couple of things early on with the GE engine. One was a type of alert that we could
get indicating that the oil quantity could be depleting. I remember my wingman getting this once
in the warning area southwest of San Diego. I flew on his wing and we climbed to about 40,000
feet in case the engine seized as we headed back to Miramar. At that altitude he could have
flown a flame out approach either into North Island or Miramar if the engine failed. Fortunately
it didn’t and once in range of Miramar, we flew a precautionary flame out approach spiraling
down to land on Runway 24 Right. It turned out to be a faulty alert.

Another alert dealing with the engine meant that the jet would be down until maintenance could
accomplish some type of check. I recall heading east on a Friday afternoon cross country trip and
somewhere over New Mexico getting the alert. I was able to get ATC to call our maintenance
people and they wanted me to return to Miramar. Fortunately due to the great fuel economy of
the jet, I was able to turn around and fly nonstop back to San Diego. After landing I got in a
different jet and started the trip again, only about three hours behind schedule.
I also recall a problem in the summer of 1988 that downed all of the aircraft for a short period. I
can’t remember if it was structural or engine related, but I do remember all of the N’s sitting in
the hangar with their GE F110 engines removed. This was something not too uncommon for a
new aircraft model, and it did not last for a long period of time.

Obviously over time, structural issues did become a problem. I think a large factor in that was
the fact that the aircraft had a G limiter, so we felt we could pull as hard as we wanted without
damaging the jet. We had all flown jets with G limits, and we had a sense of feel for G forces,
but in those previous jets we had been the G limiters. We could pull as much as the jet could give
us, and as much as we could physically take, yet we had to personally limit the G load based
upon what we were feeling. Not that we were looking at a G readout in a turn, but we did have
an indicator in the cockpit that would tell us what G we were pulling and mark the max G pulled
until it was reset. At times we would pull too hard, exceed the G limit, and have to write it up
and have Maintenance inspect the aircraft.

The bottom line was that we were conscious of the G we were putting on the previous aircraft
that we had flown. With the F-16 and its limiter, we weren’t so conscious of the G because we
had an element of protection. However, it wasn’t long before we found out that even with the G
limiter, we could overstress the jet.

With the rapid onset of G, the aircraft could spike up and exceed the 9 G limit, which would be
recorded on the HUD video. Maintenance would then have to use our tape to analyze how many
frames of tape the exceedance lasted, which equated to the duration of the overstress. This would
be used to determine if an inspection was warranted. The last factor was that the G limiter was
for a symmetrical pull. If you are rolling and pulling at the same time, the wing on the side
you’re rolling toward experiences less G, and the wing on the side you’re rolling from
experiences higher G. The G limiter does not take this into account.

There’s no doubt in my mind that over time these overstresses were what led to the demise of the
F-16N. The Air Force flew the jet too and I’m sure that they had the same type of overstresses.
The difference was in the missions of the Air Force F-16’s verses the Navy F-16’s and the
frequency of overstresses on the N.

Occasionally someone would refer to the F-16 as the “lawn dart.” That name came from a
popular game at that time which used nose weighted plastic darts about a foot and a half long
that a player would throw at a round plastic loop lying on a lawn. Because of the heavy point,
when thrown at the loop the darts would generally pitch down and stick into the ground,
hopefully in or near the ring. Unfortunately the F-16 had experienced several accidents early in
its life where aircraft at low altitude suddenly and uncontrollably pitched nose-down and
impacted the ground. Fortunately the problem had been fixed long before the N came on the
scene, however you still heard reference to that name. We generally referred to them as “Vipers”
and I think that was the unofficial name used even by Air Force pilots, due to its resemblance of
a viper snake. The official name was the “Fighting Falcon.”

Colorful Opponents

The F-16N’s arrived with a factory paint job that was a light grey and blue camo scheme. During
my time flying them, that stayed the same, except for one aircraft. I don’t know the origin of the
different camo schemes, or who controlled them. Asking some of my old Topgun bros it seems
to be somewhat of an unknown, at least in my era at Topgun and the time shortly thereafter.
Department of Defense

The one aircraft that was painted differently just seems to have appeared that way on the ramp at
some point. It was dark green and light green striped, and became known as “The Lizard.” I
assume that as time went on and aircraft were due for repainting, various different schemes were
used based upon threat country schemes. I don’t know if any of the others ever developed
nicknames based upon their paint schemes.

In early 1988 I spoke to the detailer about my future after Topgun. He told me that I could pretty
much go anywhere that I wanted. I told him that I was interested in transitioning to F/A-18 and
being stationed at NAS Cecil Field in Florida. His response was, “well I really didn’t mean
anywhere.” At that time it was not easy for an F-14 pilot to get orders to the Hornet for his
department head sea tour. Within a few years, they were forcing Topgun instructors with
previous Tomcat experience to go to Hornet, but timing is everything and I had been extremely
lucky with my timing up to this point in the Navy.

I must say that leaving Topgun was one of the most difficult things that I have ever had to do.
We had some amazingly gifted and talented instructors, but I was simply a fleet average pilot
attempting to do an above average job. I had been honored to be in their company for almost
three years, but now it was time to move on.

Leaving active duty late that year, I was very fortunate to stumble upon VFC-885, an augment
unit for VFC-13, the Fighting Saints, at Miramar. My last 10-12 months at Topgun were spent as
the Training Officer. Even though I had made the decision to pursue a job as an airline pilot, I
was so busy with my Topgun responsibilities that I accomplished very little towards securing a
job in civilian aviation prior to separating from the Navy. Fortunately a RIO that I knew from
VF-24 was very involved with the Reserves at Miramar. He called me a week or two before I left
active duty, told me that there was a selection board for Reserve pilots very soon and advised me
to fill out the paperwork. I followed his advice, and was fortunate to be selected. I owe him a
debt of gratitude! My last day of active duty at Topgun was a Friday, and on Saturday morning I
was drilling with the Reserves in VFC-885.

For the next seven months I flew exclusively with VFC-885 while I continued working towards
securing a job with a commercial carrier. As an augment unit to VFC-13, a fleet adversary
support squadron, the two squadrons operated as one. Administratively, some of us were
assigned to one squadron, some to the other, but otherwise no one knew the difference.

The pilots’ experience levels ranged anywhere from a previous S-3 Viking pilot who was a full
time reservist, to former Blue Angel pilots, Topgun instructors and everything in between. Many
were graduates of Topgun as either a fighter pilot, or as an adversary pilot. Some had many years
of experience flying the A-4 and were extremely proficient at flying and fighting the jet.
We flew the A-4F, otherwise known as the “Super Fox”, and the TA-4J. The Super Fox was
more powerful than the A-4Es that I was familiar with from Topgun. It was the only A-4 that I
ever flew that required you to pull the power back at times while fighting the aircraft. Prior to
that it had always been push the throttle to the stop and leave it there for the duration of the
engagement.

Fighting the TA-4 was somewhat of a humbling experience. I mentioned previously that we had
ended up with a TA-4 at Topgun, but we never flew it in 1 V 1s because we only had one. I still
remember my first 1 V 1 between two TA-4s with the Fighting Saints. We were about a mile
abeam and 300 knots when we called “Fights On.” I rolled and pulled with about the same
amount of force that I was used to from the E/F model Skyhawk variants I had flown previously
and was immediately in heavy buffet. I knew better, but it was what came natural after years of
fighting the single seaters. The guy in the back was laughing and shouting “easy!!!, easy!!!” over
the intercom. I eventually got used to fighting the “T bird.”

VFC-885’s mission was very different from Topgun’s mission, and my time there allowed me to
gradually transition to civilian life. As opposed to training and guiding the fleet, VFC-885’s job
was to support the fleet and RAG in any way those squadrons required. They did so in an
extremely professional manner. I arrived qualified in the A-4 and was pretty much dove right
into the mission from day one at VFC-885.

Walking away from Topgun and the F-16N was extremely difficult, but a part of life. I had
become very comfortable with the aircraft and its weapons systems. Although most would think
that the sheer power and maneuverability of the jet would be the greatest part of it, I’ll have to
say that running the radar and learning to employ the weapons system through the hands on
throttle and stick (HOTAS) controls was the most rewarding part of it for me.

Coming from the Tomcat, the ability to operate the radar in every manner, employ all types of
weapons, fly the aircraft, and communicate with other aircraft without ever taking your hands off
of the throttle and stick was like heaven! On top of that you had the ability to see the radar
picture on a multifunction display, and all flight and weapons parameters on the HUD. Thus you
had the complete tactical picture displayed directly in front of you. And because you were
operating the system, you didn’t have to try to listen to someone else describe the situation.

With time, you not only flew tactically as one with the aircraft, but you also operated and
employed the weapons system in the same manner. I had never played the piano, but I eventually
felt as if I did while operating the F-16N. It was amazing at times in the debrief to watch the
tapes and see what you had done during and engagement, realizing that you had done many of
these things without ever consciously thinking about them.

So as I left the F-16N behind, it was back to the basics in the A-4 full time. Loaded up with
simulated rear quarter missiles and a gun, we would use reverse bearing and distance calls that
the fighters were making and eyeballs out of the cockpit to run intercepts. Locating the giant F-
14s usually wasn’t too difficult. If we survived until the merge, then it was time to try to bait the
fighters to turn with us and get slow. That was where the A-4 still had a chance; it was back to
groveling.

The Early Death And Eventual Rebirth Of The Navy Viper


I know that the F-16N had problems structurally, but its retirement occurred so long after I left
Topgun that I don’t have first-hand knowledge of its demise. I do recall that even in its first year
and a half of service there was an awareness of structural issues, and we became more conscious
of the loads that we were putting on the jet, as opposed to relying on the G limiter. We did start
making maintenance write-ups if our G counter on the HUD displayed over nine Gs, and
Maintenance would look at our video tapes to determine the appropriate inspection requirements.
Topgun had eight of the 26 F-16s the Navy purchased. I’m not sure what was happening at the
other squadrons flying the remaining 18 aircraft.

In researching the problem, I’ve come to the realization that all F-16s have had problems with
hairline cracks on some of the airframe’s bulkheads. This problem is not unique to the F-16, it
occurs in virtually all airframes over time. The F-16 was designed to withstand up to a nine G
load with a life of 8,000 flying hours. However by the time the F-16 had been operational for 10
years, a program called Mid-Life Upgrade (MLU) was in place to complete an extensive
modernization and add an additional 5,000 hours to its life. As a precursor to the MLU, the
airframe was examined and all cracks were repaired. Possibly when GD sold the N to the Navy
at a rock bottom price, they planned to make some of the profit back at the MLU point, but I
doubt they would have advertised that detail. It’s similar to buying a new car. The dealers don’t
make their money on the sale, they make it on maintenance and repair over the life of the
vehicle.

From an engineering standpoint, it’s advertised that the lower wing attachment points of the N
were made stronger to withstand the higher expected rates of heavy G. Is it possible that by
strengthening the weakest link in the structure, a new weakest link was created elsewhere, and
one that might be much more difficult and expensive to repair than the previous weak link. I
don’t know the answer to that question. I’m sure that the decision to retire the jet was based upon
economics. I doubt that anyone wanted to see such a capable dissimilar adversary aircraft
disappear, but ultimately someone had to pay the repair bill. Obviously the money that had been
saved on the purchase of the aircraft had not been placed in an “F-16N maintenance trust”.
The Navy did reacquire the F-16 less than a decade after the N’s retirement, although not buy
ordering them new from the factory. These jets came from a lot of embargoed F-16s that were
built for Pakistan. The good news is that when the Naval Strike and Air Warfare Center
(NSAWC) received the aircraft in the 2002/03 timeframe, the airframes had virtually zero time
on them.

In comparison to the N, these aircraft have the Pratt & Whitney F100-PW-220 engine with about
2000 pounds less thrust than the N’s GEs F110 engines. Of the Pratts, it was the more reliable of
the early model F-16 engines. The radar should be the same as what we had on the N, the APG-
66. For Hornet pilots I’m sure it is a step down, but at least in the mid ‘80s, it was sufficient for
our mission.

Unless removed, I assume the aircraft have the cannon and ammo feed system, adding around
350 pounds of weight, but eliminating the requirement for ballast weight in the nose. Most likely
these aircraft do not have the strengthened wing… and maybe that’s a good thing. Overall, I
surely would not pass up these aircraft. I would say that they are very close to what we had with
the F-16N, with the biggest difference being 2000 pounds of thrust. Personally, of all of the
differences, I would place the thrust difference at the bottom of the priority list. For 1 V 1
scenarios that bit of thrust might be important, but for the vast majority of NSAWC’s missions, I
think it’s negligible.

It appears that since the embargo has been lifted against Pakistan, they now want the 28 jets
delivered that they paid for but never received. Fourteen went to the Air Force, and fourteen
went to the Navy at NSAWC. My understanding is that both services were told to return the
aircraft for delivery to Pakistan, but so far only the Air Force has begun to do so. The Navy has
managed to hang on to theirs and keep them flying.

I have to laugh about that. Even though the command or squadron of Topgun no longer exists,
the spirit still lives with those running the class and mission at NSAWC. From the beginning of
Topgun, it was lie, cheat, and steal; do whatever you had to do to get what you need and make it
work for the organization, and ultimately the fleet. My guess is that the Navy will finally
surrender the F-16s when they have zero hours left on the airframes, and then bill Pakistan for
the cost of maintenance for all of these years!

Memorable Moments In The Hottest F-16 On The Planet

We were at Naval Air Station Fallon between Topgun classes, in support of Air Wing training.
After the F-16’s arrived, our services were in constant demand because everyone wanted
exposure to the fourth generation threat. At times this stretched us very thin, and we often
anguished and battled it out in staff meetings as we attempted to prioritize what we could support
and what we could not.

On one particular night it was another instructor and I each flying F-16Ns. We provided
adversary support for several Air Wing night strike missions, and then we were done. We had
lots of gas remaining and started heading back to Fallon.

There happened to be a restricted target area, R-4804, about 20 miles from the runway and we
asked if anyone was using it. No one was, so we meandered into it. It was a beautifully clear
night with a full moon. There was a lot of snow on the mountains and it was almost like daytime
with so much moonlight reflecting off the snow cliffs. Before you know it, one of us lights the
burner and starts turning in, a move which was quickly reciprocated by the other. Rapidly we end
up across the circle from each other in somewhat of a lufbery, with neither of us being
aggressive, just taking in the beauty of it all.

Long light-blue burner plumes were visible against the deep blue night sky with the moon acting
almost as the sun above. Then one of us started going more vertical and pretty soon we were
across the circle from each other doing loops. At times we were looking at the other against the
deep blue heavens above, and at times against the brilliant white snow on the earth below. This
lasted for several minutes of time above the earth that night, but the beauty of it is etched in my
brain forever.

Another time that stands out was one of my last Topgun class graduation exercises. The target
was an enemy airfield in R-4804. I was in the lead section of bogeys, two F-16N’s, and we had a
section of A-4’s dragging along behind us. Initially we were holding over the enemy airfield, and
then we got the call that radar showed fighters inbound. We did another quick circle around over
the airfield simulating the reaction and launch time for enemy bogeys from the airfield, and then
took a vector for the inbound fighters.

We pushed it up to about 450 knots, hoping the Dogs could hang with us. Almost immediately
we had the fighters on the radar. Each F-16 pilot called his contacts, with the lead having a flight
of two, line abreast, at about 20,000 feet, and the wing having a flight of two about five miles in
trail of the lead section, and offset right at about 15,000 feet.

I locked one of their lead section jets and my wingman locked one of the jets in the trail section.
Our communications were very clear and concise with every call acknowledged. Beyond that
there was a good bit of silence during the intercept, with the Dogs in tow behind us silent the
entire time. They were simply listening to the comms between the Viper pilots and building their
situational awareness from it.

Approaching ten miles head-on, I took a simulated Alamo missile shot on the lead section of
fighters. Within a few seconds, I was told by the range controller that I was dead. Oh well! That
meant my shot went stupid, and that would probably be it for me for the day. I did the standard
kill removal procedure for being shot in the forward quarter. I went to full burner, stood the jet
on the tail, and started doing aileron rolls going straight up. This would identify me visually to
the fighters so that they would not pursue me any longer.

During that maneuver I topped out somewhere close to 35,000 feet, then rolled and headed back
toward the bogey airfield. To simulate the reality of larger numbers of bogeys, I could come back
to life, but I would have to fly back to my home airfield (the target) before I could regenerate. I
bolted that way and arrived just after the strike package had exited the target area. By the time
the range controllers gave me a vector, the good guys were well out of range and home free. I
joined back up with the rest of the bogeys and we did some low-altitude intercepts, raging
around in the valleys between the mountain ranges until we got to bingo fuel, and then headed
back to Fallon.

Before the class debrief, we did a quick bogey debrief with everyone describing what they had
seen during the scenario. My comments were obviously very short. Then the Dog driver that was
in trail of me spoke. He picked it up with our initial vector and then talked about listening to the
communications of the two F-16 pilots running the intercept. As he flew along simply listening,
he felt as if he had perfect situational awareness as to what to expect when the flight merged with
the fighters.

He then went on to talk about me being shot, and the kill removing maneuver I executed. As I
pulled into the vertical and started doing aileron rolls, he flew right under me. He described how
he watched as I pulled the F-16N vertical and went straight up, virtually disappearing into the
deep blue sky above. He was mesmerized by what he saw.

As I sat and listened to his recap, two things came to mind. First, the F-16N had finally allowed
our staff to practice what we preached, and to build upon our syllabus based on our experiences
flying and fighting this awesome fourth generation jet. Second, it made me realize the amazing
power of the F-16N, and how blessed I had been to have the opportunity to fly it. Again, this was
probably not the flight that most people would think would be my most memorable. However, as
my F-16N time was waning, it was a time of reflection for me on just how far we had come as a
staff since the arrival of the F-16N.

Some outsiders believed that we were a group of arrogant pilots who lived to win. The reality
was that this might be true, but you had to determine what constituted winning. We definitely
were arrogant about training the best fighter pilots in the world. If we did our jobs well, we went
out and lost to those fleet fighter pilots, dying at their hands on a daily basis. In some ways we
couldn’t lose. If the fighters did poorly, we could win an engagement, but if the fighters did well
and killed us, we truly won in the sense of the big picture and our mission.
Such was the life of an adversary pilot and Topgun Instructor…
 
http://www.dailykos.com/story/2012/12/9/1168141/-Flying-the-B-52-Part-1

Flying the B-52 - Part 1

avatar_39130.jpg

By Major Kong
Sunday Dec 09, 2012 · 12:34 PM PST

OK this is the big one. My big chance to share my experiences bore everyone with war stories.

It was my privilege to fly one of the great classics of aviation. One that is still around today and may still be around even after I'm gone.

I served as an aircraft commander on B-52Gs from 1989 - 1992. This was an interesting time. The Cold War was nearing its end, but the Soviet Union was still around and Strategic Air Command bombers still sat nuclear alert. Then there was that little spat in the Middle East.

New air defenses were making our lives tougher but B-1s were just becoming operational and the B-2 was still a dream. We were still the backbone of the bomber force in those days. We had to be good, damn good, because our planes were older than most of us flying them. We may have been best trained bomber force ever.

This is a pretty big topic, so I'll talk more about the mission later. In this diary I just want to introduce you to the airplane.

First off, it's not a "Stratofortress". Nobody called it a Stratofortress. It was, and will always be "The BUFF". If you don't know what that acronym means, I'll let you look it up. It's not a polite term.

I flew the B-52G, or the "G model". They're not around anymore. They were all retired around 1993. By treaty with the Russians they were all chopped into pieces so that they could never be put back into service. When I saw them being cut up on television I cried.

The G was built between 1957 and 1959. It was an interim model between the earlier "tall tail" models and the H model, which are the only ones still flying. The "new" ones were built in 1960 by the way.

So let's take a look at this thing.

B-52G.jpg

B-52G

First off, it's sinister looking. It looks like it was built to kill things.....it was. They've had many paint schemes over the years. Ours were painted either a very dark green or a flat black. If Darth Vader had a plane, this would probably be it.
By then the sleek lines of the late 1950s have given way to all kinds of bumps and bulges from camera pods and jamming antennas. A close look would reveal a veritable "antenna farm" along the belly of the plane.

Damn it's big. That wing is massive - 189 feet tip to tip. It's got eight engines. Nothing else has eight engines. Sure, they're crappy late 50s turbojets but there's eight of them. That's cool. Eight noisy, smoke belching, gas guzzling, water-injected turbojets. Nobody uses turbojets any more. Even fighters have turbofans in 1989.

Sure there are bigger planes but this thing just seems impressive. A hulking brute of an airplane. It can weigh in at 500,000 pounds. Most of that is fuel. A typical fuel load was 280,000 pounds. To put that in perspective, my entire 757 only weighs 200,000 pounds fully loaded. It takes a lot of fuel to fly to Russia. Another 50,000 pounds of that could be weapons, conventional or otherwise. More on that later.

It's also different. There's nothing normal about it. All Boeings have a lot in common, except for this one. I've flown the 707 (KC-135), 727 and 757 now. The B-52 is nothing like them. It's like the odd family member that everyone wonders if they were adopted.

Boeing_NB-52A_carrying_X-15.jpg
NASA NB-52A Mothership Carrying X-15 Manned Hypersonic Aircraft and Showing its Wheel Layout

Airplanes look the way they do for a reason. In this case the massive bomb-bay, the purpose for this plane's existence, is that reason. To make room for it they had to put a set of main "trucks" in front of it and another behind it. The front wheels are the same size as the backs. The narrow stance of the main gear required them to put small wheels out at the wingtips to keep the wings from touching the ground.

They then had to attach the wing at an upwards angle just so the thing could take off and land with that funky landing gear. If you ever see one take off, the wing starts to "fly" before the rest of the plane. That's also why they sometimes appear to be flying nose down - they are. It's just different.

Technology wise it runs the gamut from late 1940s to state of the art for the time. The bomb racks and release mechanism are right out of a B-17. The radar, however is the same unit as the B-1. It even had GPS and satellite communications when those were new technologies.

And it has guns! How cool is that? There are 4 fifty-caliber machine guns in the tail. Just like in all those old movies, except the gunner sits in the cockpit and controls them remotely. Mostly I just like the idea of having something to shoot back with.

Let's take a look inside. It's hard to get into. You climb up a small ladder under the belly of the plane. It's cramped in there. As big as it is they didn't leave much room for people. What space isn't taken up by fuel or weapons is taken up by electronics.

The cockpit has an upper and lower compartment with another ladder that goes between them. That ladder is the only place you have room to stand upright.

B-52_lower_deck.jpg

B-52 Lower Deck

The two navigators sit downstairs, in the dark. No windows. They have ejection seats but the seats fire downwards. Not so good for low-level missions.

Behind them are the "facilities" consisting of a can with a lid on it, which sometimes leaks. Every B-52 I flew in smelled like stale sweat, piss and engine oil.

Upstairs the Gunner and Electronic Warfare Officer "E-Dub" sit facing backwards, in the dark. They don't have windows either. They at least have proper ejection seats that go up.

Boeing_B-52_Stratofortress_cockpit.jpg
B-52 Pilot's Cockpit

Myself and the Copilot sit up front of course. There is no flight engineer. Odd for something built in the 1950s. The plane was set up for the Aircraft Commander to fly and the Copilot to mostly act as the flight engineer.

Climbing into the Aircraft Commander's seat, it's reasonably comfortable for an ejection seat. After 12 hours not so much.

Once again it's a mix of very old and very new. It almost looks steampunk, or like a 1950s mad-scientist movie. A lot of it looks like it was "tacked on" over the years - because it was.

Human factors weren't a big deal in the late 50's and it shows in the cockpit. They pretty much stuck switches and gauges wherever they had room for them. Only I can reach the hydraulic systems, only the Copilot can reach the electrical systems. Flying this thing will be a serious team effort - the airlines call it "CRM", SAC called it "Crew Concept".

Still, it feels good sitting here. Feels tough. Feels powerful. Look back at those massive wings and those engine pods. Grab hold of those eight throttles. It may not be a sleek, pointy-nosed fighter but it's a warplane.

That's all for now. We'll go flying in the next diary.

http://www.dailykos.com/story/2012/12/13/1169386/-Flying-the-B-52-Part-2

[URL='http://www.dailykos.com/stories/2012/12/13/1169386/-Flying-the-B-52-Part-2']Flying the B-52 - Part 2[/URL]
By Major Kong
Thursday Dec 13, 2012 · 11:32 AM PST


In the last diary I introduced you to the B-52, at least as I remember them from the late 80s and early 90s.

Today we're going to take it out on a training mission. Better pack a lunch, training missions typically lasted 12 hours. We normally did one or two a week.

As SAC used to say "You've got to be tough to fly the heavies".

A training mission actually starts the day prior to the flight. You'd spend the better part of a day mission planning. The crew would study the route of flight, especially the low-level training route(s), air refueling procedures, formation procedures and then the Aircraft Commander (me) would conduct a formal crew briefing.

On a normal mission you might be done mission planning by 2:00 PM. If you were playing in a big exercise it might take a couple more hours to cover everything.

My memory is hazy on this, but I think we showed up on the day of the flight 2 1/2 hours or more before takeoff time. Day sorties took off around 6:30 AM and night sorties took off around 6:30 PM. This meant either getting up at ridiculous-o-clock or getting to bed at ludicrous-o-clock. It was pretty common to have a day and a night sortie in the same week, which really threw off your sleep schedule. "Fatigue" was not a word in SAC's vocabulary. "You gotta be tough....."

A bus would take us to Life Support to collect our flight gear, the Flight Kitchen for our box lunches, Command Post for the flight plan (these were stored on portable computer tape drives). Finally we'd head to Base Operations for our weather briefing and to conduct a final crew brief (and a last bathroom stop!) before heading out to the airplane.

At the plane we'd check the maintenance logs, and then myself and the copilot would do the exterior inspection (we'd each take a side) while the rest of the crew settled in.

Normally you don't just jump into a bomber fire it up and go fly. It takes time to align the plane's navigational systems and to run the lengthy interior inspection checklist. There's also a good chance of something requiring maintenance attention. These are old planes and there's a lot of things that can break. I've actually taxiied to the runway with electronics techs working on some piece of equipment in the plane and kicked them out just before takeoff.

Everything in a bomber is based on timing. We need to take off on time to meet up with our tanker on time and to make our low-level route on time. There's some slop built into the flight plan, but a significant delay will require the schedulers to start coordinating new times for everything.

B-52_shotgun_startup.jpg

B-52 Sotgun Startup

Once everything was ready engine start was normally by ground air cart. We'd start engines 4 and 5 (the most inboard on each wing) with the air cart and then use those engines to start the other six.

With the engines running it's an extremely noisy airplane, both outside and inside. We always wore helmets or full headsets to cancel some of the noise. Unlike an airliner cockpit, the only way to talk between crew members was by using the intercom. My copilot sitting three feet away would not have been able to hear me talk. The air conditioning system seemed to generate more noise than cold air.

Once the engines are running we bring the rest of our systems on line and get ready to taxi. Even with the air conditioning on it's like a sauna in the airplane. Most of the AC is being sent to keep the electronics cool. We sweat in the cockpit until we reach altitude. "Hey, you gotta be tough....."

The hardest part of flying any large airplane is taxiing it on the ground. The B-52 especially so because there are wheels out on the wingtips and you always have to keep in mind where those are. Fortunately SAC bases had nice wide taxiways and runways. The nose trucks are quite a ways behind the cockpit, so you had to make big square turns like a city bus. There was no tiller for the nose-wheel steering like an airliner would have. It was all done through the rudder pedals. There was a setting for taxi and a low range for takeoff and landing that limited how much steering you had.

Near the end of the runway there would be another pilot, sitting in a truck with a radio and acting as a safety observer. He would give us a once-over looking for anything out of place on the plane. We all did our "turn in the barrel" pulling this duty. Once cleared to go we'd pull out onto the runway.

Takeoff was different from any other plane. If there was a crosswind, we could actually pivot the main wheels so that the plane would face into the wind while the wheels faced straight down the runway. When the plane was brand new this was actually classified, and they wouldn't show the landing gear in publicity photos.

The flaps are huge and electrically powered (most heavies use hydraulics for this). The flaps are actually as large as the wing on some airliners. There was only one flap setting, 100 percent, and it took them a full minute to extend or retract.

As we lined up on the runway I'd shift the nose-wheel steering to low range, advance the throttles and then turn on the water injection. It would get even noisier as 2000 pounds of water was pumped into the engines to augment our thrust.

I always thought that water injection was something Wile E. Coyote invented to catch the Roadrunner. I'm pretty sure it said "ACME" on it somewhere. Pouring water on a fire doesn't seem very intuitive, but it works. The water cools the air going into the engines. The denser air lets us burn more fuel to make more thrust. As the water turns to steam, it also gives us more thrust. It's sort of a poor-man's afterburner. We sometimes referred to our planes as "water wagons" or "steam jets".

Boeing_B-52F_takeoff_with_AGM-28_Hound_Dog_missiles.jpg

B-52F Takeoff with Hound Dog Missiles

This also produced a tremendous amount of dense, black smoke. If you were taking off behind another bomber (sometimes as close as 12 seconds) you couldn't see a whole lot.

Takeoff, like everything else on a bomber was a crew effort. We'd use a stopwatch to make sure we were accelerating properly. If we didn't achieve a certain speed by a certain time something was wrong and we would reject the takeoff.

Pilot (me): "Set dry thrust"
Copilot (adjusts throttles): "Cleared for water"
Pilot (checks water injection): "Four good pumps"
Pilot (checks airspeed): "70 knots....now"
Navigator (starts his stopwatch): "Nav's timing"
Navigator: "Expiration of S1 timing.......now"
Pilot (checks airspeed again): "Committed"

Once past S1 speed (V1 in the civilian world, SAC always had to be different) we're going no matter what. We wouldn't be able to stop in the remaining runway if we had a problem.

Passing 70 knots or so, the wings actually start flying so I have to start working to keep them level. I'm also holding back pressure on the yoke to keep the rear wheels on the runway. Otherwise the back wheels will lift off first and we'll become a 480,000 pound wheelbarrow (bad). Normal planes don't act like this, by the way.

We also didn't rotate for takeoff like a normal plane, we would "unstick". When the plane's good and ready to fly it flies. In a fully loaded G model we would be uncomfortably close to the end of the runway by the time this happened. We sometimes joked that it only became airborne due to the curvature of the Earth.

That's only a slight exaggeration. G models had a bad habit of using more runway to take off than what the takeoff data predicted. Sometimes it would use every last bit of runway. On one or two occasions we had to put the throttles all the way to the firewall and over-boost the engines just to get the thing off the ground. It's rough on the engines, but not as rough as flying through trees would be.

Once the plane finally decides that it's going to fly today, it actually comes off the runway in a nose-level or even nose-down attitude. Quite odd the first every time you see it.

Once airborne, I would tap the brakes to stop the wheels from spinning (normal planes do this for you) and call for gear up. At 1000 feet I'd call for flaps up. As the flaps slowly come up the jet accelerates. The key here is to match our acceleration with the flap position. Too fast and we over-speed the flaps. Too slow and we could stall the airplane. About halfway through bringing the flaps up (it takes a minute) the water injection would run out of water, it would get a bit less noisy, and we'd start to descend. Once the flaps were fully up we'd accelerate to 280 knots and start to climb again. A B-52 takeoff looks like a roller coaster - up, down, and finally up again. Normal planes don't do this - notice a trend here?

Climb performance in a G model was pretty uninspiring. It will take a good half hour or so to reach cruise altitude. Once there, we'll start heading for our first training event today, a practice air refueling, which I'll cover in the next installment.
 
http://www.dailykos.com/story/2012/12/15/1169715/-Flying-the-B-52-Part-3

Flying the B-52 - Part 3

By Major Kong
Saturday Dec 15, 2012 · 11:29 AM PST


So, we're an hour or so into our 12 hour B-52 training mission.

Now it's time to meet up with a tanker and practice some air refueling.

Air refueling is a big part of the bomber mission. During the Gulf War we would have to air refuel three times to get to the target and back. We practiced it on just about every training sortie.

I also found it to be the most difficult maneuver I ever had to learn.

Boeing_B-52D-70-BO_(SN_56-0582)_is_refueled_by_Boeing_KC-135A-BN_(SN_55-3127)_061127-F-1234S-009.jpg

In order to practice air refueling, we have a refueling "track" scheduled. This is a chunk of airspace roughly 100 miles long, 10 miles or so wide and a couple thousand feet of altitude.

There are refueling tracks scattered around the country. When the track is actually being used, Air Traffic Control will keep everyone else out of that airspace.

First we have to get there. The B-52 is pretty much a Navigator's airplane. It often seemed like I was just the voice-activated autopilot for the Navs. "Pilot fly heading 325. Pilot give me 290 knots indicated." There was very little navigational information available to the pilots. We just had to trust that the Navs were getting us where we needed to be when we needed to be there.

"Nav, where are we?"
"Well, we're lost but we're making good time."
"#$&^*!!!!"

There are two ways we can join up with the tanker(s). If we're all headed more or less in the same direction (maybe we took off from the same base) we'll just do an enroute rendezvous - meeting at a specific point at a specific time.

If the tanker is coming from another base, they might already be at the refueling track, in an orbit, waiting for us to get there. The tanker will make a turn as we come down track and, if everything works as advertised, they will roll out roughly 3 miles ahead and 1000 feet above us.

A quick word about tankers. The tanker is the least glamorous aircraft in the Air Force and the one that really makes us the force we are today. Everybody needs tanker support: bombers, fighters, transports, AWACS, the Navy, the Marines and even NATO.

The tanker guys (and I was one later in my career) liked to say "Nobody kicks *** without our gas".

To get that gas we need to close up the last 3 miles and get joined up with the tanker. We know the tanker is holding the refueling airspeed for our plane - 280 knots. We just go a bit faster than that and slowly climb towards his altitude as we close the gap. We do this in a very controlled manner, reducing our closure rate as we get closer. We don't want to "cowboy" it here. Screaming in with a bunch of airspeed and under-running the tanker would be extremely dangerous. Several bombers and tankers have been lost that way over the years.

We stop our closure about 100 feet behind and below the tanker in what's called the "precontact" position. The boom operator in the back of the tanker comes on the radio and clears me to "contact". Note that in wartime we might do this all without talking on the radios - we wouldn't want people to know we were coming.

Now the aerodynamics of two large airplanes flying in close formation are pretty complicated. I'm not an aero engineer so I'm not sure I could even fully explain it. In SAC we just simplified it to each airplane pushing a "bow wave" of air in front of it, kind of like a ship. Easy enough to imagine.

As we close in our bow wave will very noticeably push up on the tanker's tail. The tanker pilot (or autopilot) will have to correct this with trim.

Closing in from precontact is a bit tricky. I have to move forwards and upwards to a position roughly 30 feet behind the tanker. At around 50 feet I'm going to pass through his bow wave, which will stop me if I don't have enough closure. If I use too much speed, however, I'll come in dangerously fast and the boom operator will call for a "breakaway" maneuver and we'll have to go back and start all over again.

As I close in I see the tip of the refueling boom pass over the cockpit. We can actually hear the sound of the airstream going past it. The refueling receptacle is roughly 10 feet behind where I'm sitting. Some boom operators will "reach" for us and plug us on the way in. Others will wait until I'm good and steady (hah!) in the contact position before connecting.

Once the boom operator is happy they will extend the boom into our receptacle and electric toggles will physically latch onto it. Two rows of lights on the belly of the tanker help me stay in position - one set for up/down and one set for fore/aft.

640px-KC-135_Stratotanker_boom_operator.jpg


Sounds easy huh? That's what I thought when I was a hot-shot T-38 instructor checking out on the B-52. "This looks just like flying close-trail in a T-38". Except it's nothing at all like flying close-trail in a T-38. A T-38 handles like a Ferrari. A B-52 handles like a dump truck.

A B-52G is a fat, wallowing, sow of an aircraft behind the tanker. There are no ailerons so roll control is ever so slow. Move the yoke and one two three okay it's finally rolling. Center the yoke and one two three it's still rolling.....okay it's finally stopped.

If that wasn't bad enough, it also has what's called a "Dutch Roll", which isn't a type of pastry popular in the Netherlands. It means the nose of the plane is trying to make a little figure-8 all the time. That short tail, modified for low-level flying, just doesn't work as well as the old tall-tails did. Even with two yaw dampers and a pitch damper the nose of the plane is always hunting around. Not so much that you'd notice it - until you get up close behind the tanker.

So, just to keep my wings level I have to constantly saw back and forth on the yoke. And because the plane is so unresponsive I have to make my inputs before I actually need them. Very non-intuitive. It wasn't until my eighth checkout ride that I ever successfully got hooked up to the tanker. I'm sure I scared a few boom operators in the process.

Getting the left/right nailed down is the toughest part, but I also have to maintain my vertical position within a few feet and control my fore/aft position as well. Hopefully the tanker pilot is smooth. If he lets his airspeed drift then my job gets that much tougher. So in addition to sawing the yoke I'm also moving it forward and aft while constantly tweaking the throttles.

I'm trying to stay inside a 10-foot box of airspace relative to the tanker while both of us are moving along at 280 indicated, maybe at night, maybe in the weather, maybe in turbulence. One good flick of my wrist and I can kill 10 people - my crew plus 4 in the tanker. Tell me again why race car drivers make so much money?

If I move out of position, my bow-wave will actually push the tanker around. So the rougher I get, the rougher he gets and so on. It's easier if the tanker is on autopilot, but we also practice with the tanker pilot hand flying. If things get too wild the boom operator can disconnect us or I can push a button my yoke to disconnect us.

This whole time I'm just looking at that great big airplane filling my windscreen. My copilot meanwhile is directing the fuel where it needs to go to keep our center of gravity within limits. On a training mission we may only take on a token amount of fuel, just a few thousand pounds.

465th_Air_Refueling_Squadron_KC-135_Stratotanker_refuels_a_B-52_Stratofortress.jpg


On a real mission we can easily take 100,000 pounds of fuel which requires a solid 20-25 minutes on the boom. If that sounds like hard work - it is. Imagine the tanker getting 100,000 pounds lighter and us getting 100,000 pounds heavier. I've had the throttles to the firewall and still been falling off the boom.

On a training sortie we might spend an hour or so on the refueling track, cycling back and forth between contact and pre-contact. The tanker crew needs the practice just as much as I do. The boom operator needs the practice as much as I do.

Finally it's time to call it quits. We'll finish up with a practice breakaway maneuver. We need to get separation between the two aircraft anyways.

We would do a breakaway for real if the bomber was coming in too fast on the tanker or any time things start getting out of hand. The boom operator calls "Breakaway! Breakaway! Breakaway!" over the radio, we both hit our disconnect switches, I chop my power to idle and call for the landing gear down(!). Meanwhile the tanker pilot goes to maximum power. We drop away quickly while the tanker accelerates away.

Somewhere in there the tanker's autopilot may decide it can't keep up with the trim changes and call it quits - then the tanker pilot suddenly finds himself with a handful of out-of-trim airplane pitching up while the boom operator gets a face full of B-52. Fun.

You "made your money" as an Aircraft Commander by getting the fuel. If you couldn't get the fuel you couldn't do your mission. You either wouldn't get to the target or you wouldn't get back.

I didn't get really good at air refueling until after the Gulf War. We spent a lot of time on the boom during that thing. I got to where I could pull 3 engines to idle on the same wing and still stay hooked up.

Whew! That was a lot of work. Next time we'll get to the really good stuff - low level flying.

Hey kids! You can make your very own B-52 air refueling simulator! Just sit at your desk while holding a 3-pound dumbbell in your left hand like it was an aircraft yoke. Now move it up and down six inches - for the next hour. Enjoy!

http://www.dailykos.com/story/2012/12/18/1171510/-Flying-the-B-52-Part-4

Flying the B-52 - Part 4

By Major Kong
Tuesday Dec 18, 2012 · 10:32 AM PST


Last time we talked about air refueling.

Now it's time to get down and dirty. My favorite part of the bomber mission was low-level flying.

Better buckle up - it's liable to get bumpy.

First off, what idiot flies a huge airplane close to the ground? Oh, and we do it at night? Are you kidding me?

Keep in mind that this was the late 80's early 90's. We were still training to penetrate Soviet air defenses if, God forbid, it ever came to that.

USAF doctrine at that time, both for bombers and fighters was that low was the way to go. B-1s, F-111s, F-4s, F-16s, A-10s all had a low-level mission. Even some transports like C-130s and C-141s had special ops missions that called for low-level flying.

This is ancient history of course. I've been out of the bomber community for 20 years and I'm sure tactics today are quite different.

So, we're flying this thing that's as big as an apartment building and our main tactic is to hide. I'm imagining an elephant tiptoeing around and trying to be sneaky.....

What does being low get you? Back then at least it made it hard for air defense radars to find you. Especially if there was any kind of terrain. The Soviet fighters of the day would have a tough time picking you out of the ground clutter. I know, Mig-29s were around then but they were new and there weren't many of them. You were a lot more likely to run into a Mig-23 or Mig-21 even. A lot of the big surface-to-air missiles, the telephone-pole sized ones that could reach out and touch you a long ways off, couldn't engage you down low. The missiles that could were short ranged.

Ever seen the Thunderbirds or Blue Angels at an air show? They'll have one guy split off and while you're busy watching the others he'll come sneaking around low, right over your head from where you're not looking. Surprise! Kind of like that.

B-52_Stratofortress_is_intercepted_by_two_Navy_F-A-18_Hornets_of_USS_Nimitz_(CVN_68).jpg


So being low made you hard to find and hard to shoot if they did find you. Could you still get shot? Heck yeah. Nobody's invincible, nobody, we were just trying to even the odds. How low could we go? At night our equipment would let us go down to 200 feet. Normally we bumped that up a few hundred feet to have a bigger safety margin. 200 feet is roughly equal to your wingspan. In the day? Well we weren't really supposed to go lower. Some other guys might have gone down to 50 feet once, so I heard. I'll deny everything. That's my story and I'm sticking with it.

So how do you fly 360 knots a few hundred feet off the ground, at night, in the mountains? Very carefully. You can get killed doing this. A B-1 crew was killed on a night low level around that time frame. A few years prior a B-52 crew skipped off a mesa and all but one got out. I knew the Navigator on that one. He had burns on the back of his neck from just beating the fireball out of the airplane as he ejected.

I had a good ejection seat, but the Navigator's seats fired downwards. If something happened down low my first instinct would be to trade our airspeed for altitude and give the Navs the 500 feet (or more hopefully) they needed to get out. Those guys had to brave. No windows, no controls and a seat that shoots you at the ground.

We had some special equipment on the plane to help us. The primary tool was the Terrain Avoidance Radar. Unlike an F-111 or B-1, the plane couldn't fly itself down low. I had a TV screen in front of me that would depict a "Trace". This was a cross-section of the terrain out ahead of us. We adjust how far ahead the system was looking. There was a little airplane symbol that I "flew" along the Trace. This would keep us at our preset terrain clearance. We also had a radar altimeter, which told us how high we were above what was directly beneath us.

Downstairs, the Radar Navigator had an excellent terrain mapping radar that gave him "the big picture". We worked together very closely. He would be looking out ahead with that radar and telling me where the best route through the terrain was. We had a couple other tricks up our sleeve.

B-52H_bomber_tail_number_60-053.jpg


The two "chins" you see under the nose of B-52 are cameras. One is a FLIR (pretty new stuff at the time) and the other is a Night Vision camera (also high tech in 1989). I could bring either of these up on my TV screen, along with some other navigational information.

These were important because if we were actually in bad-guy country we might have to do this with our super-cool radar turned off. Nothing screams "Hey! There's a bomber coming your way!" than blaring away with a powerful radar than can be detected a long way off.

Night Vision Goggles (NVGs) were brand new then and we were just starting to use them as well. These were the heavy, first-generation, models. They clipped to the front of our helmet and a battery pack velcroed to the back of the helmet. If you needed to eject you would have to remember to take them off or the weight would snap your neck. Today you can buy better ones at a sporting goods store for a few hundred dollars. Back then this was cutting edge stuff.

A quick note about the pictures. These were taken on IR-144, a low-level training route that goes through the Big Bend region of Southwest Texas, New Mexico and Arizona.

*** NOTE: Kindly see the photos mentioned at dailykos

The first time I flew this route was at night. When I flew it in the day I was amazed at how sheer some of the terrain was.

This route claimed the lives of a B-1 crew on a night training mission.

We normally flew low levels between 320 and 360 knots. Our top speed down low was 390, so we normally kept a little in reserve in case we got behind and had to make up time.

It could get very bumpy down there. Especially on a hot day. That huge wing was designed to fly at 50,000 feet. It would beat you up down low. I'd look out the window and watch that wing flex 18 feet at the tip and the engine pods shaking back and forth. After I while I stopped looking at it. What I can't see can't scare me. If the turbulence got so bad that we couldn't read the instruments we'd call it quits.

It also could get pretty hot. The air conditioning wasn't worth much down low.

Remember that everyone else on the plane is sitting in the dark. My Radar Navigator would get airsick and throw up on every low level. He was hard core. I couldn't have done it.

Most of the low level routes took around 3 to 4 hours to navigate. A lot of the training routes were up over the Dakotas where it's sparsely populated. The most fun ones were out over Utah and Nevada. My favorite route crossed Lake Powell - you could drop down into the canyon like Luke Skywalker attacking the Death Star.

Normally there would be a practice bomb run at the end of the low level route.

We didn't usually get to drop real bombs in practice, maybe once a year during a big exercise. We would normally transmit a tone on the radio and a radar site would score where our imaginary bomb would have went. If we were simulating a nuke, close counts.

The site could also bring up pretend threats. For example, they could simulate various missile radars locking on to us. This would give the Electronic Warfare Officer (EWO or E-Dub) some practice with his jammers.

Once we did our thing we'd climb up to altitude and take a well deserved rest on the way back home. A night low level was hard work both mentally and physically. It took the most crew coordination of anything we did. We had to keep ourselves out of the rocks, make our time-over-target, evade the simulated threats and hit our simulated target(s).

Of course, they'd have 3 hours of touch-and-go landings scheduled for us when we got back. Seriously. "You gotta be tough to fly the heavies".

So would this stuff have worked? I think so. Around that time a Russian Mig-29 pilot defected and flew his plane to Turkey. The SAC tactics people asked him "Do you think you could intercept a B-52 flying 300 feet at night in the mountains?"

This guy was described to me as a very cocky, arrogant fighter pilot. He was flying the best plane his country had at the time. His answer?

"NO EFFING WAY!"

I also know it worked, because I did it for real the first night of the Gulf War. But that's going to be a long story.
 
https://hushkit.net/2016/06/11/the-empires-ironclad-flying-fighting-in-the-b-52/

June 11, 2016
The Empire’s Ironclad: Flying & Fighting in the B-52

Since its combat debut in Vietnam, the B-52 Stratofortress has unleashed more destruction than any other aircraft. Keith Shiban flew the ’52 in the nuclear deterrent role, and in combat missions over Iraq. We spoke to him about flying and fighting in this menacing enforcer of American foreign policy.

What were your first impressions of the B-52?


I was awed by the size of it. You don’t realize just how big it is until you get up close to one. It looks powerful, even sinister with the dark camouflage and ECM blisters all over it. It’s not what I would call a ‘pretty’ airplane. It’s a purpose-built weapon of war and looks the part.

I had just come off instructing in the T-38 and it was like jumping out of a Corvette into an 18-wheeler. I didn’t find the B-52 difficult to fly, but I did find it hard to fly well. Nothing happens quickly and there is a lot of inertia to manage.
Deflect the yoke and there’s a noticeable pause before the plane starts to bank. Centre the yoke and it keeps rolling for a bit. 

After my first training sortie I can remember looking back at this huge beast sitting on the tarmac and thinking “Damn, I landed that?”

B-52 Crosswind Crab Landing.jpg
B-52 Crosswind Crab Landing

Air refueling was for me the most difficult thing to learn. As an aircraft commander, that’s where you make your money. If you can’t get the gas from the tanker you can’t do the mission. It wasn’t until my seventh or eighth training sortie that I was actually able to stay hooked up to the tanker. The short-tail B-52s (G and H models) have a bit of a dutch-roll to them. It’s not really noticeable until you get right behind the tanker.

You have to constantly work the yoke just to keep the wings level during air refuelling. Once you finally get your muscle-memory programmed it becomes second nature, but it took a while to figure it out. Even then it’s still aworkoutt. Taking on a 100,000 pounds of gas meant being on the end of that boom for 20 minutes or so. I’d feel like I’d been workout out at the gym afterwards.

The other big adjustment was handling that large of a crew. The B-52 is very much a navigator’s airplane. I used to joke about me just being the voice-activated autopilot for the navigators.

In training, I was taught that the Aircraft Commander’s job was to “fly the plane and make decisions”. I had to constantly process inputs from the other crew positions and decide how to react. The offense team might be telling me to go one way to get to the target but the defense team might be telling me not to go that way because there’s a threat over there.

You lived or died as a crew. Even if the pilot is Chuck Yeager (and I’m not) it won’t do much if the Radar Navigator can’t hit the target or the Electronic Warfare Officer lets you get shot down on the way there. It was a team effort all the way. The aircraft commander tends to get all the credit but I was only as good as the rest of my crew. Fortunately I had a very good crew.

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General Buck Turgidson from "Dr. Strangelove - or How I Learned to Love The Bomb"

How do B-52 crews view Dr Strangelove- was it realistic? 

Dr. Strangelove was a staple on alert. I’ve seen it enough times to have the script memorized.

 Kubrick got an awful lot right with that movie, especially when you consider that the Air Force was very secretive about the B-52 at the time.

My main critique would be that the final bomb run seems to take up the last third of the movie, when in reality a bomb run doesn’t take nearly that long from Initial Point to release. I think they tried about eight different means of getting those bomb doors open. In reality there was a manual release cable that the navigators could pull to unlatch the doors. But hey, it’s a movie. They have to make it dramatic.
It’s still probably my favorite movie of all time.

What tips would you offer to new crews coming onto the ’52?

Be proud. You’re flying a piece of history. Even to this day, when we really want some other country to know we mean business, we deploy B-52s.

Boeing_B-52F-70-BW_(SN_57-0162)_in_flight_dropping_bombs_061128-F-1234S-004.jpg


What kit did you wish for when you were serving on the B-52?

I would have liked more in the way of standoff weapons. In 1991 we were still mostly dropping iron bombs like in WWII. This required us to fly directly over the target. You can avoid most of the threats on the way to and from the target, but anything worth bombing is probably going to be defended. You can’t do much evasive action on the bomb run, because the whole reason you’re there is to hit the target. Even if the defenders don’t shoot you down, simply making you miss the target means you did all that work for nothing.

Please talk me through your first Gulf War mission
My crew was deployed in August of 1990 to Diego Garcia to be part of the 4300 Provisional Bomb Wing. I can remember getting the phone call early on a Sunday morning: “Be here in 4 hours with your bags packed. You’re going away indefinitely.”

After seven months of living on tiny atoll in the Indian Ocean, the part of me that wasn’t scared shitless was ready to just get the whole mess over with so I could go home.

It was around 5:00 PM when we got notified. I know this because the chow hall opened at 5 and I was getting ready to go eat. Someone banged on the door to the room four of us shared and said “You’re going.”

I forget how much time we had to get ready but I know I walked over to the dining hall and tried to eat something. My stomach twisted itself into a knot so all I all managed was to eat a bit of salad and sip some ice tea.

At the appointed time we were loaded onto a bus and driven down to the airfield. The security police gave us an escort with lights and sirens going, which I thought was pretty cool.

We had been previously briefed on what our Night One target would be. We would be hitting one of the Iraqi forward-deployment airfields. There were five of these roughly 25 miles from the border with Saudi Arabia. Three B-52s were tasked against each airfield plus we had a number of “airborne spares” in case one of the jets broke on the way there.
We were ushered into the auditorium for our pre mission briefings. Our pep talk from the commander was basically “Don’t run into the ground and do their job for them”. Good advice actually.

The mission briefings were pretty short since we already knew beforehand what the target was. We had done a few rehearsals against some islands out in the Indian Ocean so were pretty confident in our ability to do it.
I don’t recall exactly when we launched, but it was getting late in the day by the time we actually got out to the aircraft. We launched 20-some bombers and tankers completely by timing, without a single radio call being made. There was a scheduled time for engine start, taxi and takeoff for each aircraft.

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B-1 Bombers at Diego Garcia

A fully loaded B-52G is a sluggish beast and needs a lot of runway to get airborne. The runway at Diego was relatively short by SAC standards. Only 10,000 feet if I recall. We used up most of it by the time we lifted off.

There was a nasty line of heavy rain showers hitting the area right around then and we flew through some of it. I can recall taking a pretty good beating going through the weather.

A short while after we got leveled off we did our first air refueling. There were normally two air refuelings scheduled on the way up to the Saudi peninsula. The G model was a bit underpowered and the extra drag of having bombs on the wing pylons made it worse. Sometimes I would have the throttles to the firewall just trying to stay on the boom.

A good tanker crew could make you look good back there. If they were jinking around a lot, trying to stay in formation, it could make your job a lot tougher. If their autopilot wasn’t working it was even tougher. Our bow wave would actually move the tanker around. If either one of us wasn’t smooth on the controls it could cause a chain reaction.

Somewhere on the way up to Saudi Arabia we took time to don our survival gear and sidearms. We had flak vests, as I recall, but I think we placed them strategically around the cockpit rather than wearing them. We figured that anything likely to hit us would come up through the floor.

You probably want to know what I was feeling at the time. I am not a particularly brave individual. I was always pretty scared the days before a mission. Once I got in the jet I was fine. That was my comfort zone. No more worrying about if it’s going to happen, it’s happening now. Just do your job.

By this time I was very confident in our ability as a crew to do the mission. We did a lot of training in the six months prior and I knew I could fly the jet to its limits. Knowing that you’re probably going to get shot at in a few months gives you added incentive to train hard.

It was dark by the time we got up over Saudi Arabia. The sky was filled with the lights of aircraft massing for the attack. I can remember commenting on it, right before I fell asleep.

Now I’d to say that I’m such a steely-eyed warrior that I was able to sleep on way into combat but I think I was just exhausted at that point. I had been up most of the day, combined with the stress I think I just shut down.

Next thing I knew, my copilot was waking me up and telling me we needed to get ready for low level. This involved taping over all the lights in the cockpit with electrical tape and taping green chemical light-sticks under the dash to use as NVG lighting. Very high tech. Back then we had red cockpit lighting that would wash out the Night Vision Goggles.

The goggles were not our primary method of flying low level but they were an addition to the terrain avoidance radar and the FLIR that were built into the aircraft. The goggles clipped to our helmet visor and had a battery pack mounted to the back of the helmet with velcro. The whole assembly was heavy and would snap your neck in an ejection – so you had remember to take it off before punching out.

Our formation at high altitude was 2 miles in trail with each aircraft stacked 500 feet above the one in front of it. As we dropped down to low altitude we went into what was called a “stream”. A bomber stream was normally spaced about a minute apart, roughly six miles at the speeds we flew low levels at.

We dropped down low well inside Saudi airspace so we wouldn’t get picked up by the Iraqi radars. Our tactics at that time were to avoid known threats. No sense tangling with a SAM site if you can just go around it. Of course it’s the one you don’t know about that worries you.

We were running between 300 and 500 on our way to the target. I remember it was pitch black that night and the NVGs weren’t really doing much for me as they need at least some ambient light to work. They were picking up all the anti-aircraft fire, however, and probably making it look closer than it actually was.

It looked to me like they were just trying to fill the air with lead and hope somebody flew through it. I can remember seeing a ZSU-23 spitting out tracers like a fire hose. Fortunately it wasn’t near us because one of those could ruin your day. I saw a lot of heavy stuff, 57mm and larger. I didn’t worry as much about those so much as they had a very low probability of actually hitting something.

I occupied myself with calling out what I was seeing to the crew and pointing out that it was either of range or not aiming at us. It’s hard to tell what you’re seeing at night. Was that light I just saw a missile or just a truck headlight?

The actual bomb run was planned as a “multiple axis of attack”. The three bombers in our cell would come at it from three different directions to confuse the defenses. Sixty seconds was normally the spacing between aircraft but in this case we were compressing it to 45 seconds. The idea was to minimize our time over the target. Most critically, we would have to make our time-over-target with zero second tolerance or our bombs might frag the next guy over the target. The plan allowed no room for error.

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British BL755 Cluster Bomb

My aircraft was loaded with fifty one cluster bombs that were filled with mines. The other two aircraft had British runway cratering bombs that we called a “UK1000”. The bombs would crater the runways and taxiways while the mines would make life difficult for anyone trying to repair them. The bombs also had a variable time delay so some of them would dig a hole and then blow up as much as a day later.

To release the cluster bombs we would have to climb up to 1000 feet going across the target. That is not a good altitude. You either want to be really low or really high. The other two jets were able to drop from 500 feet. We got the first run over the target so that we might at least have surprise on side.

The bomb run itself was uneventful except for not being able to see anything. As soon as started releasing, things got interesting. In my NVGs I saw “Flash! Flash! Flash! Flash!” and I thought “Oh crap, they’re shooting at us and I can’t do a damn thing about it until we get the bombs away”.

As soon as the bombs were gone I went into an aggressive “gun jink” maneuver. This involved rapidly throwing the plane around in multiple directions. At the same time I pointed the nose back at the ground. We started picking up speed fast. Our limiting airspeed was 390 knots indicated and I’m sure I saw 430 on the gauge. At this point the plane was wanting to “mach tuck”. The faster we went the more the nose wanted to go down. I had to run the trim nose up quite a bit to counteract that. Meanwhile we’re jinking around low to ground at night, probably being a bigger threat to ourselves than anything the enemy might be doing.

What I probably saw that night was the charges from our own cluster bombs opening. The interval between flashes was just about right for it to look like a 37mm anti-aircraft gun. In 20/20 hindsight we probably weren’t getting shot at but I didn’t realize it at the time.

In all the excitement we turned the wrong way coming off target and ended up doing a 270 degree turn to get back on course. Meanwhile the other two bombers did their thing, followed up by a flight of F-15Es who took out the hardened shelters.

After that I was hyped up all the way to the Saudi border. The plan was for us to land at Jeddah International Airport in Saudi. I think we had to go around at least twice because the traffic pattern was so busy. Once we finally got on the ground some guys in silver hazmat suits checked the outside of our plane for contamination (chemicals). Then the maintenance guys checked us for battle damage and didn’t find any. Finally we got to park the jet. I can remember sitting on the ramp at Jeddah for a very long time waiting for someone to come get us. We didn’t really care, we were just happy to have accomplished the mission and still be alive.

Tell me something most people get wrong about the B-52

Most people assume that something as large as a B-52 must be roomy on the inside. In reality it’s quite cramped in there. Most of the available space is taken up either by fuel tanks, bombs or electronics. The only place you can even stand up straight is the ladder between the upper and lower compartments. 

Unlike an airliner, it’s also extremely noisy. We had to wear headsets or helmets all the time to protect our hearing. Talking “cross cockpit” like we do in an airliner was impossible. Everything had to be said over the intercom.

Not a comfortable place to spend 12 to 16 hours. Even training missions would leave you completely drained physically. SAC liked to say “You’ve got to be tough to fly the heavies”.

Tell me something most people don’t know about the B-52

I don’t think our role in the Gulf War was ever well publicized. Especially the low level strikes that were carried out on the first three nights.

During the Cold War, did members of the B-52 aircrew community feel confident that they would survive an attack on the USSR? 


That’s the big question, isn’t it? Fortunately we never had to find out.

Soviet air defenses were quite formidable. Our ECM package in the G-model wasn’t as good as what the H-model has. There were some newer Soviet missiles, like the SA-10 (S-300) that we simply would not have wanted to meet. We also feared running into a MiG-31 long before we even got to Soviet territory.

You have to realize though, that by the time we got there both sides would likely have been lobbing ICBMs at each other for eight hours. There may not have been much left of their air defenses to worry about.

You stood nuclear alert- how does one reconcile personal ethics with the knowledge one may have carry out a nuclear attack? 


We were so well trained that we’d have probably been halfway to our targets by the time we even thought about what we were doing. We used to joke about turning south and making Jamaica the next nuclear power if the balloon went up but that was just a joke. 

Most of didn’t think we’d have to do it. The whole reason SAC existed was to prevent a war with the Soviets. If things had gotten that bad, we’d have probably been dodging nuclear explosions on our way out of US airspace. The instinct would have been to hit them back with everything we had at that point.

Still, it was sobering to sign for an alert aircraft with sixteen nuclear weapons on it. Quite a lot of responsibility for a 27-year-old aircraft commander.

What were your favourite and least favourite flights/missions on the B-52?
I enjoyed doing anything tactical like low levels or playing with fighters. Touch and go landings were fun but I think SAC overdid it sometimes. We’d fly an 8 hour training mission and then have 3 hours of “transition” as it was called tacked on. We’d already be worn out from flying all night and they’d want us to practice landings from 1 AM to 4 AM. It was especially rough on the other crewmembers, who were just along for the ride at that point.

Why do you think the B-52 has stayed in service for so long? 


In some ways it’s such a generic aircraft that it can be adapted to different missions. It can carry a lot of ordnance a long way and it can loiter for a long time. One thing people don’t always think about is it has a tremendous amount of electrical power from its four generators. That allows them to keep stuffing new electronics into it.

640px-B-52_&_Tu-95.jpg

Two contra-rotating prop driven Tupolev Bears parked behind a Stratofortress

What do you think of its Russian equivalent, the Tu-95? 

When the Russians make something that works they stick with it. I’ve had the opportunity to crawl inside one. Like the B-52 it was a mix of very old and very new technology. It’s smaller than a B-52, about 2/3 the size. It’s extremely fast for a turboprop aircraft and also very efficient.

Those props produced a tremendous amount of noise and vibration. I can only imagine that it gave the crews a real beating over time.

Tactically I don’t think they were anywhere close to what we were doing in the B-52. I don’t believe they ever envisioned using the Tu-95 as a low-level penetrator.

Did you ever fly at low altitude in a B-52?
Low level was our bread and butter in the B-52 community at that time. We were still training to penetrate Soviet air defences in the late 1980s. 

In the daytime it was a lot of fun, at least for the pilots. I don’t know how the other crew positions managed to sit through it. Sitting in the dark while getting bounced around on a hot day was a recipe for airsickness. B-52 navigators are a very dedicated bunch. The downward firing ejection seats the navigators rode in couldn’t have inspired much confidence either. 

At night it was very challenging. Our systems were good down to 200 feet over flat terrain and I think 300 or 400 feet in mountainous terrain. Keep in mind that our wingspan was almost 200 feet. A night low level required a tremendous team effort, especially between the pilots and navs. It was all hand flown in the B-52. Unlike the B-1 and F-111, we only had “terrain avoidance” radar. It wasn’t coupled to the autopilot. So imagine you’re bopping along at 360 knots through the mountains in the middle of the night. 

The SAC tactics people interviewed a Soviet MiG-29 pilot who had defected. The asked him “Do you think you could intercept a B-52 flying 300 feet at night in terrain?” He told them “No ******** way”.
 
http://foxtrotalpha.jalopnik.com/the-f-16-gun-pod-that-tried-to-shoot-down-the-a-10-wart-1597577525
The F-16 Gun Pod That Tried To Shoot Down The A-10 Warthog
http://foxtrotalpha.jalopnik.com/the-f-16-gun-pod-that-tried-to-shoot-down-the-a-10-wart-1597577525

Tyler Rogoway
7/01/14 4:16pm


The USAF has been trying to kill the A-10 for as long as the Warthog has been in service. Part of this effort saw the A-10's huge GAU-8 Avenger 30mm cannon shrunk down into a pod that could be carried by sexier fighters, primarily the F-16. The results of which were far from impressive...

By the middle of the 1980s the USAF was obsessed with getting rid of the A-10 and getting something faster to replace it. The A-7F Strikefighter was one proposed solution among a few others that gained traction, although the biggest effort revolved around different concepts to modify the F-16 in order to make it more capable of battlefield interdiction and close air support. Parts of this initiative included installing some wildly advanced avionics for the time period, as well as fitting an awkwardly powerful cannon to the lean jet.

GAU-8_in_A-10.jpg

GAU-8 30mm Cannon in A-10

The cannon itself was designated the GAU-13, and the podded system it would be carried in was designated the GPU-5. The USAF program that developed it was called "Pave Claw" and General Dynamics, the cannon's manufacturer, marketed the system "GEPOD30."

GPU-5.jpg


The entire gun and magazine was contained in fat external stores pod made to be carried on tactical fighter aircraft. The GAU-13 cannon itself was a shortened pneumatic-powered, four-barreled version of the Warthog's giant seven barreled GAU-8 Avenger cannon. Because of its modular format, overall size and weight limitations, the GPU-5 had a rate of fire of about half that of the GAU-8, or about 2,400 rounds per minute. Still, this smaller podded version of the Avenger packed one hell of a punch as it slung the same coke-bottled size 30X173mm ammunition that its bigger brother did, including depleting uranium penetrator rounds. All ammunition was carried internally in the pod, of which could hold 353 rounds.

Although the GAU-13 cannon was not specifically designed for the F-16, and A-7, F-15E and even F-5s could carry the GPU-5 pod, in it the USAF saw a particular opportunity to give the F-16 the A-10's claim to fame and its main supporters biggest argument as to why it should continue to stay in the inventory, a 30mm gun that can shred even a main battle tanks' heavy armor.

Out of the jumble of initiatives that were focused as seeing the F-16 take the A-10's tank busting and troop supporting gig, there were a few loosely related proof of concept and test and evaluation programs that standout. Although their exact relationship remains muddy, the cause and effect of the failure of these programs would result in the A-10 surviving in USAF inventory for decades to follow, as well as helping prove game changing technologies that would only mature years later.

The most advanced of these initiatives was one that saw the F-16 gain a 30mm cannon and a ton of new avionics. This aircraft was to be named the A-16. The A-16's modifications included an elaborate confromally mounted "Falcon Eye" FLIR and targeting system. A test aircraft was outfitted with this system which included twin sensor balls on the F-16's nose and twin targeting systems blended into the aircraft's wing roots. Also, the "Cat's Eyes" helmet mounted sight was tested with the FLIR system.

Something of between a crude version of the F-35's DAS and the Apache's monocle sighting system, "Cat's Eyes" and "Falcon Eyes" allows a pilot to see the what the forward hemisphere FLIR sees while looking in any direction but directly down. The system also allowed for some traditional HUD symbology to be projected onto the helmet's prism viewing system for enhanced sistuational awareness,. Also, the system allowed for easy visual hand-off of targets, even at night as laser designated or coordinate based targets could be seen visually through the helmet.

Radar upgrades and software upgrades were also part of the A-16 project, including an advanced "target hand-off" system that could data-link a ground targets to A-16s with relative ease. A 30mm cannon was designed for the aircraft, along with a strengthened wing structure to support it, but it was deemed to be too hot for the tightly packed electronics in the F-16 and would set fire to and/or singe the left side of the fuselage when fired.

The whole advanced A-16 concept was seen by many as self-defeating as it was growing the F-16 into a heavier more expensive jet than it was designed to be, and its advanced components were at the time fairly clunky. In the end the A-16 and the whole permanently installed "Falcon Eyes/Cat's Eyes" system was abandoned after testing was completed, as the USAF's more modular and less advanced pod-based LANTIRN system was chosen for the F-16C Block 40, albeit the Block 40 was more focused on deep strike and night operations than CAS.

The most mature of the pro-F-16/anti-A-10 initiatives was the rapid fielding of the GEPOD30 onto lightly modified F-16As from the 174th TFW based in upstate New York. The 174th had flown A-10s previously to the F-16 and in 1988 they were tapped to be the first close air support-oriented F-16 unit. Their aircraft were Block 10 F-16As that were modified in a few ways to reflect their new mission. These changes included a green camouflage "European One" paint scheme, some minor avionics tweaks and the rapid fielding of the GEPOD30 gun pod.

The whole concept was farily austere to say the least, and within a year or so of the 174th getting their stripped down "F/A-16s," Nellis AFB and Shaw AFB began running a pair of incremental test programs to help evolve the F-16 into a CAS aircraft further. Both Shaw's and Nellis's jets were painted green and were newer than the 174th's F/A-16s, they were also given better avionics to play with.

Different configurations were flown, with Shaw's F-16C based test aircraft doing more of the advanced avionics work and Nellis's more numerous but less technologically equipped fleet doing tactics development work. These configurations including a stripped down "Falcon Eye" system with a helmet mounted sight, albeit without all the targeting modifications seen on the A-16. Other configurations included the installation of a terrain avoidance system, GPS, and a more mature targeting hand-off system than the earlier A-16 had. The Nellis jets featured Pave Penny pods and more minor upgrades, some of which were rumored to have some light armor installed around the cockpit area.

While this "second coming" of the F-16 as a CAS platform for the USAF, in as little as a half decade no less, was in full swing, tensions erupted in the Gulf and Desert Shield would quickly turn into Desert Storm. The true test of the F/A-16 concept, and the GPU-5 gun pod for that matter, would be actual combat and the 174th TFW was rushed overseas to prove themselves.

During what would be a turning point in the way the world looks at air power, the F/A-16s set out to prove their worth. The idea was to unleash continuous streams of precision fire from their big 30mm gun pods onto Saddam's armor and material and to finally prove that the faster, shorter legged and more nimble F-16 could indeed become a low-level gunfighter like the A-10.

The results were less than desirable. In fact, they were horrible. Within the first 48 hours of continuous combat operations the GEPOD30s were proven to be totally unable to satisfy their intended mission. Precision fire was almost impossible with the setup as the F-16s software had not been adequately modified for aiming, and the vibration was so bad when the gun was fired that software tweaks probably would have made little difference anyway and it wreaked havoc on the F-16's sensitive electronics and mechanical components.

The reality is that the system was so ill-suited to the aircraft that just firing the gun multiple times would tweak the pylon it is attached to and thus it would become skewed far off zero. Not to mention that in comparison to the low and slower flying A-10, in actual combat the F-16's high speed made it hard to get a proper sight picture to aim during long strafing runs. Apparently maintainers and pilots had warned that the gun was ill-suited for the light fighter long before the deployment, but their mission was to try and make it work.

After the first few mission evolutions during the opening of Desert Storm, it was clear that the GPU-5 was an area suppression weapon at best, and the 174th unbolted the heavy gun pods from their jet's and went back to using cluster and general purpose bombs on targets. A practice they would continue to practice as they patrolled their kill boxes throughout the war.

In the end the USAF had to swallow the fact that a big tank cracking 30mm cannon was just too much for the diminutive F-16, and this, combined with some other legislative and DoD wrangling, kept the A-10 in service for another 20 years as America's top Close Air Support jet.

As a side note, almost all the GPU-5 pods and the GAU-13 cannons that were mounted inside them were assumed by the USMC. They tested mounting one on a container that was strapped down on the deck of one of the Navy's Landing Craft Air Cushion (LCAC). The idea was that an LCAC could literally hose a beach down with heavy 30mm cannon fire as the Marines came ashore. Each LCAC could theoretically carry up to four of the systems and it was known as the Gun Platform Air Cushion or "GPAC."

It is unclear if the system ever actually became operational, but one can only imagine how effective it could have been at providing suppressing fire for landing Marines. I would imagine just the long throaty cries of "bbbuuuurrrrpppp" would keep the enemy in their foxholes long enough for the individual Marines to start plying their trade.
 

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