Lonely Pilot Bob

When He Tells You to Stay Under the Bag…

After a year or so as a T-38 IP, I happened into the squadron snack bar one morning after a flight. It just so happened that a student from the other section, “K Flight,” came in about the same time. His classmate was manning the cash register. So, the conversation went something like this:

“Hey, how did your Bag (Instrument) ride go?” asked the cashier.

“Oh, it went fine,” the student replied, “but when Capt. Masuda tells you to stay under the bag, you damned well stay under the bag!”

I didn’t think much about it until I saw Dale a couple of days later. I told him of the exchange in the snack bar, and he grinned as he told me about it.

They were on an early ‘bag’ ride where the student flies under the hood and practices basic instrument maneuvers: turns, climbs, descents, etc. After 20 or 30 minutes, Dale told the kid to come out from under the bag, to take a break. He asked the kid if there was anything particular he would like to see, to which the student replied that he would like to experience zero-G. Dale said no worries and set up for a ‘push over’ maneuver.

When Dale got the nose to the climb angle he wanted, he began to push one to zero G. As they topped out, a spring came loose from his knee pad and began floating in the cockpit. Dale tried a couple of times to grab it, but had no luck. Then, as he put ‘g’ on the aircraft to recover from his dive, “Zing!” The spring shot back behind him. Now he was concerned about the spring as foreign object damage (FOD) in the cockpit.

So, he told the student to go back under the bag and execute a 30-degree turn while maintaining level flight, which the student complied with. Dale then unstrapped, turned around, and began looking for that damned spring. No luck. However, what he didn’t notice was that his comm cord had disconnected.

After a couple of turns, at 30 degrees of bank and level flight, the student asked Dale over the intercom, “Capt. Masuda sir?” Hearing no answer, he again inquired, “Sir, Captain Masuda?” Now he was concerned. He lifted the front of the bag, and much to his surprise, was Captain Masuda staring right at him! Dale, in turn, took his gloved finger and pointed it at him, impressing upon the student knew he shouldn’t have lifted the bag! The kid then slammed the bag back into position, and nothing more was mentioned about it. Not during the remainder of the flight, or in the debrief.

To the best of my knowledge, the ‘word’ got around, and Dale never had an issue with a kid coming out from under the bag ever again.

In the 70s, we flew with Iranian students. Never a dull moment with those guys.

I first heard of a Tweet guy with an Iranian coming in for a landing. As the Tweet came over the overrun, say about 50 feet or so, the Iranian student threw his hands up and proclaimed, “Allah has it!” That got the IPs attention as you might imagine. He grabbed the stick and continued flying to a full stop.

As it turned out, the IP got really resourceful to get the Iranian past this. He asked his student what the ATC procedure for the transfer of aircraft was. The student replied, “Sir, you say ‘You have the aircraft,’ and I say ‘I have the aircraft’ then I shake the stick to acknowledge the positive transfer. “That’s right,” exclaimed the IP, “so until Allah shakes the stick, you keep flying!” Genius.

The next Iranian student challenge was when this kid came into a turning rejoin in a T-38, with 100 knots of overtake (we usually used 30 knots or so). As they got closer, the IP became increasingly concerned. Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore and said, “Hey Yosef, you have 100 knots of overtake!”

Yosef then promptly replied, “Sir, Yousef is not afraid to die!”

“Not with me,” thought the IP, as he took control of the aircraft!

Before I entered pilot training, they used to do 4-ship close trail. This is a maneuver where we would put our canopy bow on the tailpipes of the preceding aircraft. Needless to say, it could be quite challenging.

Once in Close Trail, one of the maneuvers we would fly was a loop. To accomplish this, Lead would pick up 500 knots +. You needed a lot of smash (airspeed) to get all four aircraft over the top in formation.

On occasion, once the maneuver began you could hear:

“Terry 17-4 is breaking out,” followed shortly by,

“Terry 17-3 is breaking out,” and then,

Terry 12-2 is out,” culminated with the radio call from Lead, “Aw, sh*t!”

Now you had 4 T-38s in the same area, at different altitudes, going who knows what direction – and this is where the fun began. Trying to get the formation back together.

Lead would often “go high” to the top of the area, ensure altitude separation for everyone, and begin getting everyone back together. Not as easy as it sounds. First Lead had to find everyone. Looking for “white jets” was hard enough; can you imagine trying to find those cute little camo jets?

At any rate, most of the time it all worked out, but at the expense of a lot of gas. Other times, single-ship recoveries were necessary. In any event, the debriefs were always exciting!

When I came into the T-38 phase of training in UPT, in the Fall of 1970, one of the syllabus requirements was to shut down an engine in-flight – actually twice! The point of the exercise was to build students’ confidence in the reliability of the J-85 engine.

The first time we shut down an engine, we went through the “Normal Engine Restart Checklist.” The second time, we would use the “Emergency Engine Restart Checklist,” using the afterburner to restart the engine. For me, it all went well. For others, all they gained was confidence in single-engine approaches and landings.

Because of the number of engines over the command that failed to restart, either through normal or emergency procedures, the practice was removed from the syllabus shortly after my class. Good move!

I was down in the Auger Inn one evening talking with Hal Meisterling. Hal was a high-time T-38 IP, and a great guy. And he enjoyed sharing stories!

This particular evening, he was telling us about his early experiences in the T-38A. Apparently very early in his experience with the ’38 he rolled out on Final one day and promptly exclaimed, “Holy cow, what are those?”

“What are what,” his Instructor Pilot (IP) asked.

“Those lights on either side of the runway,’ Hal replied.

“Oh, those are VASIs (Visual Approach Slope Indicators),” his IP tolf him.

“What are they for,” asked Hal.

“They help you land,” the IP said.

“OH,” was the only reply Hal could come up with.

A few years later, after a Vietnam tour, Hal found himself once again checking out in the T-38. And once again, when he rolled out on the final for the first time, he asked, “Holy cow, what are these lights?”

“What Lights?” again asked his IP.

“These ‘red, green and yellow lights up here on the glare shield”” Hal replied.

“Oh, those are for the AOA,” his IP informed him.

“What are they for?” Hal asked.

And once again, you got it, Hal asked, “What are they for?”

“They help you land,” the IP told him.

To which Hal said, “Oh.”

Hal, being a true ‘Aviator,’ couldn’t help but be amused with it all. He knew what all the lights were for; he just wanted to make his point: fly the jet!

And we all stood there that night, and laughed!

So this kid is on his Contact Check in T-38s. All was going well until he pitched out for a normal overhead and landing. Midway through the pitchout, the gear came down – around 260 knots or so!

“What the Hell?” exclaimed the check pilot as he took the jet and raised the gear back up. Everything looked normal upon Gear retraction, so the IP called for a Full Stop landing. After all, the Gear had been oversped.

During the debrief, the check pilot asked if the student had an explanation for the gear coming down in the Pitchout.

“Well, Sir,” the student began, “it must have been a failure of the 240-knot switch that holds the gear up.” This one then took a bit more to sort out.

“What do you mean by that?” asked the check pilot.

“Well, Sir,” the student continued, “when I’m flying with my normal IP and I pitch out, I put my hand on the gear lever and at 240 knots it comes down.”

“Okay,” the check pilot thought to himself, “now we’re getting somewhere.”

He then looked up the kid’s usual IP and explained what had happened during the check ride.

“Oh crap,” the IP responded. “This kid had a tendency not to check his airspeed before lowering the gear. So, I would guard the Gear Handle, and once the airspeed dropped below 240 knots, I would take my hand away, allowing the handle to come down.” Somewhere along the line, the kid must have summised this was magic! That the Gear Handle had a 240 knot sensor built in. Wrong!

The Check Pilot then had a “Come to Jesus” meeting with the IP, and the kid took another check ride!

Lt. Colonel Dick Hansen was a “captain’s colonel.” What I mean by this is, he always looked out for his men and women. At Happy Hour, you could almost always find Col. Hansen sitting with the captains instead of rubbing elbows with the colonels. It was one such evening that Col. Hansen shared this story.

In the early 60s, before ATC received the T-38, the T-33 was the primary trainer. One weekend, a Dick’s squadron mate invited him to go on a cross-country flight to Greenville, MS. Greenville, at the time, was an active Air Force training base. So Friday night rolls around and off they go.

Upon arriving at Greenville they both head to the Officer’s Club for a “few” pops. It was then that Dick learned that the guy he was flying with was meeting his girlfriend the next day. And he thought nothing of it, until 6 weeks later!

What Dick didn’t know at the time was, his squadron mate headed out to the jet the next morning and took off solo. He flew to a small town, about 30 miles from Greenville. When he arrived, he decided to put on an impromptu air show!

After 10-15 minutes, he landed at the small airfield near the small town where his girlfriend met him. He gave her a brief orientation of the rear cockpit, then took off. And back over the town they went – for yet another airshow!

At some point during this second airshow, the young Lieutenant decided to check his fuel gauge. “Oh crap,” he thought, “this isn’t good.” So he headed back to the small airfield, helped his girlfriend out of the jet, then sought out the airfield manager. He needed gas.

The airfield manager told him all he had was 80 octane fuel. “Well, I suppose that will work,” he thought. He then checked his wallet and told the airport manager he would take $80 of fuel.

After refueling, he fired up the jet, took off, and returned to Greenville. As he taxied in he thought to himself, “I made it!” (I know of this feeling of elation myself.)

As he was filling out the aircraft forms, the crew chief began tugging at his flight suit sleeve and said, “Lt., I have something to show you,” and motined him to the rear of the jet. When they got back there, the tailpipe was ash white! 80 octane gas burns a lot higher than jet fuel. “Crap, crap, crap,” he thought.

Now, I would have never thought of what the young Lt. did next. He asked the crew chief how long he had been gone. “About 2 to 3 hours, Sir” the crew chief replied.

“We were afraid of this, the white tailpipe,” the Lt. continued. He explained that he was at Greenville to test a new ‘fuel additive’ to increase the range and endurance of the jet. The crew chief bought it.

The young Lt. then told the crew chief to take out his ID card, put his thumb over the eagle on the card, and raise his right hand. He then had the crew chief swear that what he observed, with respect to the flight, would be held in the strictest of confidence in the interest of national security. Who thinks of crap like this?

The next morning, the young Lt. told Dick to hop in the jet, that he would do the walk-around inspection. He didn’t want Dick to see the white tail pipe.

After landing back at their home base, the first thing the young Lt. did was he checked the tailpipe. It was now “normal” in color. “Oh man,” he thought to himself, “I dodged another bullet!” And off they went.

About 6 weeks later, both were summoned to the commander’s office. No clue what for. The commander then proceeded to drill them. First, he asked if there was anything abnormal about their cross-country to Greenville a few weeks back. Dick and his friend looked at each other, both professing innocence, claiming nothing out of the ordinary. The commander then produced a stack of letters and began reading. Dick looked at his friend with total disbelief.

Apparently, when the young Lt. left the small airfield, he left the receipt for the fuel behind. The airport manager thought he would need that receipt for his taxes, and had no way to get it to him. So he decided to send the receipt to “The Commander of the Air Force” in Washington DC! And with the receipt, he included a personal letter of appreciation, telling him what a fine young man that Lt. was. Dick just stood there in total disbelief as the commander continued.

“The airman’s graceful rolls and steep dives were quite impressive as he showed everyone in our small town what a jet could do. Everyone cheered as he came up Main Street, very fast, and very low,” the airport manager exclaimed. “Then wouldn’t you know it, he landed at our small airfield, put Susie in the back seat, and took her for a ride!” Dick just stood there as his commander continued to read other letters that were added, as the Commander of the Air Force’s letter came down the chain of command. “I am so screwed,” Dick thought.

As it all turned out, Dick and his friend were held back from promotion to Captain for a year. Then they both went to Vietnam, where each one of them had very successful tours. I don’t know what happened to Dick’s friend, but Dick went on to make promotions “below the zone,’ and upon assignment to the Pentagon, he retired and opened a bait shop in Oregon!

In the mid-eighties, I had a female student at PIT from Reese.  I didn’t know hardly anything about her until I flew a Contact check with her at PIT.  She either was or had been on SMS (Special Monitoring Status – behind the power curve) at the time.  There were also “rumblings” around the squadron that she had gotten to where she was by being attractive.  I hated that, so I decided to find out myself – as the Chief of the Check Section.

When she reported for her check ride she was a bit ’timid,’ as you might expect.  I told her to get a cup of coffee or something to drink, then we sat down to brief.  I told her to relax, that we were just going out to fly and have a bit of fun.  I told her that I was interested in seeing “just how good she was,” and to have some fun along the way.  As much as ”fun” as you could have on a check ride.  

Now, I tend to ‘ad lib’ on occasion (shocking!).  By the time we got to the end of the runway for departure, I think she may have forgotten she was on a check ride – and she subsequently had a great ride!  She earned an Excellent on the ride.  

In the debrief, I hardly had anything to say about the maneuvers she flew; I focused on her “listening to voices” in her head!  I told her that those “voices” were all BS, regardless of the content or source, and that she was a good pilot and would make a great IP.  Then I told her to call her Mom, be fair with her students, and sent her on her way.

The next time I saw her was on the ramp at Tinker AFB one afternoon.  We were both on “out-and-backs;” she from Reese and me from Randolph.  I was heading into Base Ops when I heard a voice call out, “Colonel Holliker!”  I turned, and it was her.  She came up to me and (quite unprofessionally btw) gave me a big hug!  She went on to tell me she was doing well and that was about it. She was in great spirits!

A few months later, she was killed.  She was flying with a “marginal” student – nothing “special” about this kid, and he “froze” on the stick in the flare on a (simulated) no-flap landing.  She didn’t have the physical strength to overpower him.  He (from what I heard) was a former football player.  I think he was 29 out of a class of 28 in academics.  So, as the jet began to roll into a stall, she punched out.  Her chute became entangled with the jet and she was killed.  The student rode through it all and sustained just a broken arm.

Okay, unfortunately, these things happen by the nature of our business. It is dangerous. However, there are some things an IP can do to mitigate it all. First impress upon your students, from the very beginning of training, when you say you “have the jet,” YOU HAVE THE JET! Let go!!! You need to say this with great conviction – to where they are scared shitless not to let go! And, it’s also about building trust with the student. This is imperative! And that trust will come, with time…

Thankfully, these ‘tragedies’ do not happen often; just be prepared!

Good Morning Folks,

To those who have been loyal followers, you may have noticed that I am not posting anywhere near as I used to. I have been introduced to YouTube. My channel is “Three’s In” – and you have to use the quotes when you search on YT.

I hope to re-engage here soon, but for now I’ll see you on YouTube!

Cheers,

Bob