History Friday

[brickhistory]

Can you take as many pics as you want?

Umm, isn't that what the U-2 does?

Couldn't resist..................

[Guest Xtndr50boom]

Who says I don't??

Couldn't a person in the holy-shit-osphere just hold their breath and open their helmet to scratch their nose?

Hypothetically speaking, of course

[HuggyU2]

Holding your breath doesn't stop the gases in your bloodstream from boiling out if you lose cabin pressure above 63,000 feet.

[338skybolt]

Here's a shot over NE Afghanistan.

Hey Huggy,

I see they've updated the cockpit somewhat since I was a maintainer at Osan '92-'93. Very cool shot!

[Herk Driver]

Holding your breath doesn't stop the gases in your bloodstream from boiling out if you lose cabin pressure above 63,000 feet.

So how long does it take for a problem with the suit to become fatal above 63K?

[Mambo]

I think we need a separate thread just to ask Huggy questions about the U2.

Great shots by the way.

[HuggyU2]

So how long does it take for a problem with the suit to become fatal above 63K?

A lifetime.

[Herk Driver]

A lifetime.

Thanks for the levity.

The reason I ask is that Joe Kittinger jumped in a pressure suit from 102,900 feet with temps as low as -94 degrees F, reached speeds over 600 miles/hour, became the first human to exceed Mach 1 without an aircraft or space vehicle and endured a failed pressure glove. Yet he lived through it, went on to command the Triple Nickel and fly F-4D's in Vietnam, spent 11 months in the Hanoi Hilton and retired as an O-6 in 1978. I met him over a year ago and he has some pretty amazing stories to tell.

So I guess besides the you have the rest of your life to figure it out routine that you do actually have a little time. Or maybe the swollen hand that he suffered from the failed pressure glove that returned to normal (or normal enough to continue to fly) was a fluke.

[HuggyU2]

I met Col Kittenger about 10 years ago at lunch. I don't remember the details of any glove failure, but to answer your question:

It depends.

What kind of malfunction? Rapid D? If the suit fails, how big is the hole? Is the emer oxygen providing enough flow to make a difference?

Just like with an "engine malfunction", there are certain levels of concern, depending on the nature of the emergency. A compressor stall doesn't concern me like an engine fire being fed by a ruptured fuel line. The same can be said with the multitude of physiological issues that crop up in the high altitude recce business.

[ClearedHot]

I met Col Kittenger about 10 years ago at lunch. I don't remember the details of any glove failure, but to answer your question:

It depends.

What kind of malfunction? Rapid D? If the suit fails, how big is the hole? Is the emer oxygen providing enough flow to make a difference?

From https://www.centennialofflight.gov/essay/Ex...tinger/EX31.htm

The next year, Kittinger set two more records, which he still holds. On August 16, 1960, Kittinger surpassed the altitude record set by Major David Simons, who had climbed to 101,516 feet (30,942 meters) in 1957 in his Man-High II balloon. Kittinger floated to 102,800 feet (31,333 meters) in Excelsior III, an open gondola adorned with a paper license plate that his five-year-old son had cut out of a cereal box. Protected against the subzero temperatures by layers of clothes and a pressure suit--he experienced air temperatures as low as minus 94 degrees Fahrenheit (minus 70 degrees Celsius)--and loaded down with gear that almost doubled his weight, he climbed to his maximum altitude in one hour and 31 minutes even though at 43,000 feet (13,106 meters) he began experiencing severe pain in his right hand caused by a failure in his pressure glove and could have scrubbed the mission. He remained at peak altitude for about 12 minutes; then he stepped out of his gondola into the darkness of space. After falling for 13 seconds, his six-foot (1.8-meter) canopy parachute opened and stabilized his fall, preventing the flat spin that could have killed him. Only four minutes and 36 seconds more were needed to bring him down to about 17,500 feet (5,334 meters) where his regular 28-foot (8.5-meter) parachute opened, allowing him to float the rest of the way to Earth. His descent set another record for the longest parachute freefall.

[Herk Driver]

What kind of malfunction? Rapid D? If the suit fails, how big is the hole? Is the emer oxygen providing enough flow to make a difference?

You're right my question wasn't very pointed, but that's because the initial answer made it sound like you don't have a prayer no matter what happens.

Holding your breath doesn't stop the gases in your bloodstream from boiling out if you lose cabin pressure above 63,000 feet.

A lifetime.

Yet, I had heard Kittinger's story when I met him and had dinner a little over a year ago. It is amazing he didn't have more damage than he did especially since he suffered the failed glove on the way up.

[HuggyU2]

It is amazing he didn't have more damage than he did especially since he suffered the failed glove on the way up.

Yes it is. We've learned a lot over the past 50 years, when it comes to physiology.

[JarheadBoom]

...then he stepped out of his gondola into the darkness of space.

I've always admired Col. Kittinger for the incredible balls it must have taken to ride a balloon to 100k+ ft.... then just step the f*ck out into the abyss. Unreal.

Also, Col. John Stapp, the guy who rode the rocket sled in the '50s to test human tolerance to acceleration & deceleration G-forces. Links for those who've never read about him:

Wiki on Col. Stapp

EjectionSite on Col. Stapp

[HerkDerka]

46.2 G's........Holy shit.

HD

[HerkDerka]

102,800 ft........714 mph.......Holy shit.

HD

Edited August 10, 2007 by HerkDerka

[Herk Driver]

I've always admired Col. Kittinger for the incredible balls it must have taken to ride a balloon to 100k+ ft.... then just step the f*ck out into the abyss. Unreal.

Not to mention the balls it took to go back up after his first jump which went down like this:

Col Kittinger averted disaster on his first jump from 76,000 ft when his stabilization chute opened too early. It caught him around the neck inducing a flat spin and unconsciousness. He was saved when an emergency chute opened at 10,000 ft. The program was almost shut down but he lobbied successfully to keep the program alive.

[brabus]

Col Kittinger averted disaster on his first jump from 76,000 ft when his stabilization chute opened too early. It caught him around the neck inducing a flat spin and unconsciousness. He was saved when an emergency chute opened at 10,000 ft. The program was almost shut down but he lobbied successfully to keep the program alive.

What a badass. What happened to all the dudes like him.

[Dead Last]

Sorry don't mean to "threadjack" back to the original topic but one of my personnal favorites has got to be the P-61... Don't know what it is, I think I have a thing for ugly prop aircraft

[brickhistory]

“Smallest Fighter, Fastest Gun”

“Rap 95, push it up. Troops in contact, taking a pounding.”

With that call, 1Lt. John Gay knew this wouldn’t be a boring mission. But then, most missions in the Cessna A-37 “Dragonfly” weren’t boring. Averaging more than one mission a day since he’d arrived “in-country” in April of 1968, he had gained a healthy respect for both the enemy and for his airplane. On this day, June 3, 1968, he’d gain a lot more of both.

Super Tweet Goes To War

Mention Cessna aircraft and most folks will think of the ubiquitous Cessna 172 Skyhawk or one of the company’s other equally famous light aircraft. The military aficionado might even know of the O-1 “Birddog” and the military version of the 337 “Skymaster, the O-2 “Duck (mostly just called the “Oscar Deuce”) that served gallantly as forward air control ships for thousands of strike missions during Vietnam. But not many know of the armed version of the famous T-37 “Tweet” training aircraft, the A-37.

The Tweet has trained thousands of pilots in Air Forces around the world. First production commenced in 1955 and by the mid-1960s, the United States Air Force was looking for a low-cost jet replacement for the Douglas A-1 “Skyraider” in the dangerous skies over Vietnam. Cessna quickly introduced the A-37A, a strengthened, armed version of the trainer. With General Electric J-85 engines replacing the anemic J-69s of the T-model, the A-37 “Super Tweet” had a lot more thrust to lug around the phenomenal weapon loads slung under the wings and the 6,000 rounds per minute 7.62mm mini-gun poking out of its snout. The gun had the highest rate of fire of any fighter’s cannon, hence its part of the A-37’s unofficial claim to fame.

The A-37 could carry nearly double its own weight in fuel and ordnance. With a clean configuration and only half-full of fuel, the little jet had better than a 1:1 thrust to weight climb ratio. That meant that the thrust available exceeded the weight of the aircraft and it could climb going straight up. This was a feat not duplicated until the next generation of F-15s and F-16s appeared using much more advanced technology.

On the minus side, the A-37 had unpowered, manual flight controls that took muscle to throw it around the sky.

By April 1967, in a rush assignment codenamed COMBAT DRAGON, the first squadron of A-37s arrived at Bien Hoa Air Base (pronounced “Ben Whay”), South Vietnam. The 604th Air Commando Squadron (Fighter) quickly began operating the little jet, primarily in the southern regions of Vietnam against guerrilla forces called the Viet Cong or VC. This first batch of pilots was mostly majors and lieutenant colonels, highly experienced pilots with many thousands of fighter hours in their logbooks.

The 604th , callsign “Rap,” earned a reputation of accurate bombing, putting its loads of iron bombs, napalm, rockets and cluster bomb units (CBU) on top of the Viet Cong no matter how close they were to the good guys. Indeed, a favorite tactic of the VC was to get as close to American GI’s and Marines as they could because the ‘fast-mover’ close air support jets couldn’t drop ordnance in close without jeopardizing American lives.

The Raps were different. Down low and relatively slow, they could drop extremely close and accurately. The worst bombers in the squadron had errors of only 10-15 meters using nothing more advanced than the Mark I eyeball. The A-37 was the only aircraft in the Southeast Asia theater authorized to use CBUs with troops in contact (TIC), meaning US forces were getting shot at by the bad guys. A CBU is a canister filled with small, baseball-sized bomblets. The canister splits in half after being pickled, raining the bomblets over a wide area. Obviously, the higher the CBU is released, the greater area that will be covered and the more likely that friendly forces close by will be hit by ‘friendly fire.’ The 604th screamed in low and dropped CBUs right over the VC; a truly devastating experience that not many lived to tell about.

Since Vietnam combat tours were mainly one year assignments, by December 1967, the Air Force personnel system realized that come summer of ’68, all the 604th pilots would leave, taking their invaluable A-37 combat experience with them. If that scenario played out, a new group of pilots would have to re-learn the lessons already inscribed in the Raps corporate knowledge. Thus it came to be that John Gay escaped from second pilot training in the McDonnell-Douglas F-4 Phantom II and strapped on the A-37.

Gay states, “Around December ’67, a call came into George and MacDill Air Force Bases for 12 lieutenants to leave F-4 training and go into A-37s at England AFB, Louisiana. I was being trained as a backseat pilot in the F-4 – the USAF had too many pilots and not enough F-4s to go around at that time.

“I didn’t want to be a co-pilot in a fighter, I wanted to fly my own fighter so I volunteered for the –37 assignment.”

At England AFB, Gay flew a two-month course learning the A-37. After that, it was off to South Vietnam where he arrived at Bien Hoa, near Long Binh in the south-central part of the country.

“My first night there, I was given a disassembled cot and an empty footlocker. Those were the furnishings for my part of a two-man room in a four-room hooch. As I put my stuff together, I noticed the older heads all had sandbags piled up around their areas.

“What are those for?” I asked them.

“You’ll find out,” they told me.

“Sure enough, that night I did. The VC rocketed the base, sending in several rounds of high explosive, hoping to hit something or someone valuable. They rarely succeeded, but it was enough to make a believer out of me. I built a bunker under my cot to where I could just roll off and in and have some protection when the incoming started. I also put up sandbags around my area.”

“I got to Vietnam in April, 1968. The squadron flew the hell out of me and the other new arrivals because they had only a few months to get us up to speed before the old heads rotated home. After one local area orientation flight, I was called ‘combat ready’ and started flying missions.

“They wanted to get me flight lead qualified so I flew nearly every day and on many days several ‘go’s. To show you the difference in experience levels between the original cadre of 604th pilots and the next group, when the old guys left, the average flying hours were 4,500. Immediately after they left, the average dropped to 1,800.”

By June, Gay had over 60 combat hours and was very comfortable in the little jet.

Low Ceiling, High Pucker Factor

On the 2d, he was scheduled to lead a pre-planned close air support (CAS) mission on the following day. That would be his 56th combat mission in two months.

“We’d find out the night before what our schedule was for the following day. The squadron would get its part, the ‘frag,’ of the Air Tasking Order for the next day’s planned air activity over the entire country. At Seventh Air Force, the planners would work with the ground forces to ensure that any planned ground operations had air support available. Those missions were called pre-planned.

“The other type of CAS we flew was ‘alert.’ This meant that the squadron kept a four-ship of jets ready for immediate take-off to deal with any unplanned ground missions such as occurred frequently in Vietnam. A platoon could be moving out in a supposedly safe area and start taking fire from concealed VC. The alert birds would launch and support those guys. For this fateful day, Gay was ‘fragged’ to lead a two-ship for a pre-planned CAS mission.

“We’d brief about 2-2 ½ hours prior to take-off. As the flight lead, I covered the admin stuff – weather, expected winds in the target area, we’d review the ROE (Rules of Engagement: the politically derived ‘do’s and don’t’s’ of war), current code words, go over contingencies like who’d do what to cover the search and rescue effort, things like that.

“Then we’d discuss the likely tactics we expected to use based on the weather and other expected restrictions. If we had to fly a long way to get to the target, we usually climbed to cruise in the 20’s, then shut down an engine to save gas. That gave us both a longer range and more loiter time over the target. However, during thunderstorm season, the Vietnamese version of thunderstorms could build unbelievably fast. They could build faster than we could climb, so we might have to pick our way through them since the A-37 cockpit was unpressurized and couldn’t climb over them.

“Once we finished the brief, we put on our gear and stepped to the jets.”

Gay’s typical combat gear consisted of a standard green flightsuit, a g-suit, a survival vest, a USAF-issued .38 cal revolver, parachute harness, helmet and gloves. In the hot, intensely humid climate, sweat was a constant factor. Additionally, the A-37 A-model’s air conditioner was underwhelming. It got pretty steamy in the cockpit so canopies were left open until turning onto the active runway.

Gay continues, “My wingman for this sortie was Capt. Don “Tommy” Thomas, one of the old heads in the squadron. Tommy was a fantastic bomber and could fly with the best. I felt good about this one.

“We took off and headed for our pre-planned target. We were both carrying two 500lb ‘snakes,’ bombs with pop open fins to retard their fall. That meant we could drop from a lower altitude and not have to worry about blast damage from our own bombs. We also had two 250lb. ‘ladyfingers,’ so named because of their long, delicate appearance and two canisters of napalm, each weighing about 750lbs. On the fourth pylon on each wing, we carried an additional fuel tank along with the tip tanks.

“While we were en-route, we got a call from a forward air control O-2, Tamale 12. He wanted us to push it up since he was FAC’ing for an Army battalion that was taking heavy fire from two sides. He gave us a DME for our rendezvous point. Tommy and I bent the throttles and got there ASAP.

“Unfortunately and unusually for South Vietnam in that time of the year, there was a low cloud deck below us. When we arrived overhead, we couldn’t see anything and told Tamale 12 that.

“He popped up above the deck, we got a visual on him and followed him down.

“We came out of the soup at about 1,200 feet. Most of southern Vietnam is flat, delta area covered with jungle and grass, crisscrossed by numerous rivers and canals.

“Because of the flat terrain, we weren’t too worried about smacking into anything dirt-related, but there wasn’t a whole of maneuvering room over the area. That was bad because the ground troops predicament was awful.

“They were in the corner of a ‘T’ formed by the intersection of two canals. They were taking heavy, sustained fire from two sides across the canals. They couldn’t pull back due to the heavy fire and they couldn’t go forward or sideways because of the water. There were nearly 400 guys essentially surrounded in that ‘T.’

“We could see plainly where the bad guys were from the intensive fire they were dishing out. The red tracers were nearly solid into the grunts’ positions. Even though the weather was below our minimums for dropping, Tommy wanted to press and the FAC was practically begging, so we did.

“Tamale rolled in and fired a smoke into the VC’s position, but we didn’t really need it, the muzzle flashes were that visible.

“Tommy and I set up our runs so that as I was in-bound about to pickle, he’d be set up, ready to start his approach from the other direction. Essentially, I was working on one canal, he was working the other. On each run, we had to overfly the Army’s position. Not something we liked doing, but in this case we had no choice. They were in a world of hurt and wanted our help now!

“So, in a limited area with only a thousand feet from the ground to the cloud layer, we had three airplanes circling, spotting targets and trying not to have a mid-air.

“I’d go in, pickle one bomb and pull up, climbing and yanking to avoid the intense return fire. As I was pulling around, Tommy was rolling in to do his thing on his side.

“The FAC relayed from the Army troops to ‘keep it up! ‘You are nailing them!’

“We always tried to fly a curvilinear approach. In other words, we wanted to have a constantly changing altitude, airspeed and angle presented to the VC gunners to complicate their aiming solution. However, with the low hanging clouds, we couldn’t pull off as far as we liked and still maintain visual on the fight.

“I have no idea why I did it, but after pulling up on one run, I rolled inverted just at the base of the clouds. I could then keep everything in sight and pull back on the stick to start my run. With the A-37’s big canopy, I had a great view of the situation.

“I’d roll right side up just prior to pickling, rack the jet into a hard turn and as I climbed, roll inverted again.

“Tommy saw me doing that and copied me for his last few runs.

“The troops were eating up what we were doing because the volume of fire they were taking was slacking off immensely, but we still had ordnance so we kept pounding the VC.

“We finally told the FAC that we were RTB. The VC had taken a beating and were leaving and the Army moved forward. They passed to the FAC who passed to us the BDA (bomb damage assessment – the report card for that mission): over 300 enemy KIA. They also passed on their gratitude and thanks for sticking around!”

“As I said earlier, Tommy was one of the best bombers in the squadron. He told me that my inverted tactic was a nice move. The squadron thought so too and put us both in for a Distinguished Flying Cross. That was nice, but it was better knowing that we’d saved some GIs lives out there. The Air Force denied the medals by the way.

“I flew another mission the next day. Wound up flying 336 missions and 443 combat hours before I rotated home as an A-37 instructor pilot.”

Sometimes the Dragon Wins

Not all A-37 missions went flawlessly. Sometimes the bad guys scored against the Raps and good men went down. Some were rescued and lived to fight another day, some were hit but flew home. And some didn’t come back at all. Numerous A-37 pilots died in the steaming jungles and rice paddies of Southeast Asia.

On September 21, 1968, John Gay was one of those hit. On yet another CAS mission for TIC, his A-37 took machinegun fire while pulling off target.

“On what turned out to be my last pass, just after I dropped, I racked the jet into a more than 90 degree bank and started climbing, looking back over my shoulder, my cockpit blew up and the jet rolled onto its back.

“I was still pretty near the ground and stunned. My wingman, Lt Terry Hunt radioed me to pull up. I did, but was still pretty shaken up. My canopy had big holes and starred areas, my rightside electrical panel (across the cockpit) was a mess and my leg hurt like hell.

“I told Terry that I was hit in the leg. He said ‘fly the jet, deal with it later.’

I was still pretty low to the ground and he wanted me to gain some altitude in case I had to eject.

“As I took stock of the situation, I pieced together what had happened. As I pulled off and bent the jet around, .30 caliber rounds hit the side of the airplane. Since I was pointing my wing at the ground at the time, the rounds entered the side of the cockpit and canopy and not the bottom of the jet. One round hit the gear T-handle and shattered the bullet. Part of the fragment went into my thigh and the rest hit the electrical panel, taking out most of my circuit breakers.

“I had rolled inverted because after dropping a bomb from one side, I was now asymmetrically loaded and the jet rolled to that side. Of course, taking my hands off the controls when I first got hit probably didn’t help the situation.

“I wasn’t hit that bad, so I tied a handkerchief around my leg, Terry and I headed home. We recovered, debriefed the mission to the intel guy, had the flight doc treat my leg, and headed to the squadron bar.”

Better Lucky Than Good

In two unusual post-scripts to this mission, John Gay found out the impact of earlier mission to the troops on the ground.

“About two months after this, I got a call to go see the commander in his office. That is never a good thing, so as I hustled over there, I racked my brain to see what I could have done wrong.

“He told me and Tommy that we’d both been awarded the Silver Star for our earlier mission. The US Army commander had taken it upon himself to write us up for saving his battalion’s bacon. That really meant a lot to me.”

Later, in another touching, unbelievable coincidence, John was on an R & R trip to Honolulu waiting on his wife to fly in from the States. Killing time in a bar, he and a young Army grunt started sharing ‘Nam stories.

Finding out that John was an A-37 pilot, the PFC started telling him about “this one time we were pinned down at these canals when some A-37s just saved our asses!” As more details spilled out, the soldier had been a member of the pinned down unit and John was indeed, the A-37 that saved his posterior.

Retired as a colonel after thirty years in the Air Force, John is now a grandfather. As he finished his story, he recalls, “I drank for free that day.”

[brickhistory]

Sometimes the good guys don't always win.

This B-17G was cut in half by flak on 14 July 44 while bombing railroad yards at Budapest, Hungary. Only five chutes were observed.

[zrooster99]

Sorry don't mean to "threadjack" back to the original topic but one of my personnal favorites has got to be the P-61... Don't know what it is, I think I have a thing for ugly prop aircraft

The last I knew, admittedly quite a wile ago, the CAF still had a Blackwidow flying. Does anyone know if it's still air worthy?

[HuggyU2]

The last I knew, admittedly quite a wile ago, the CAF still had a Blackwidow flying. Does anyone know if it's still air worthy?

Frank Borman had one about 3 years ago in Las Cruces, NM. I don't know if he still has it. I don't think the CAF has one anymore, though.

[brickhistory]

Frank Borman had one about 3 years ago in Las Cruces, NM. I don't know if he still has it. I don't think the CAF has one anymore, though.

A P-61 flying? I am 99.69% sure not. There's only a few left in the world, none flyable. Mid Atlantic Air Museum in PA salvaged one from New Guinea and is restoring one, possibly to flight condition. The others are 1) at Smithsonian, in not the greatest shape, 2) at the USAF Museum in superb condition, 3) the MAAM one, and one displayed outside at the Chinese Aviation Museum in Beijing ( we just left 'em at the end of WWII.....) and in pretty poor condition.

A P-61? I would love to proven wrong, however........................

Borman had a P-63, I believe.

[zrooster99]

The P-61 I saw was at the Annual CAF show when it was still done in Harlingen, TX. To give you an idea how long ago, I'm 31 and I was about 7 when I went to my last big CAF show. I'll research and let you know. Edit: Being that I was 7, at the oldest, I could have confused an black A-26 or A-20 for one (they definately had an A-20 until it crashed when the pilot had a heart attack).

Edited September 12, 2007 by zrooster99

[amcflyboy]

If you only knew. They had those pencil holders in the old C-models "back in the day". There are some things they originally put in the cockpit, and are still there, that just make you scratch your noggin'. It's downright comical.

When I was new at the whole pressure-suit-thing, I had a sortie where I dropped 5 of the 6 pencils I had in the jet. Isn't that when you'd yell "Winchester" in a fighter?? You're out of 30mm, and I'm out of pencils. The pencil is mightier than,..... nevermind.

Most folks now carry those long, metal, flexible things with the claws on the end, so you can get stuff off the cockpit floor, and they work great.

We're finally putting the pencil holders on the glare shield. What I'd really like is something like the A-10 saddle bags, or whatever y'all called them.

The cockpit is an F-104 cockpit widened about 10" and made about 8" deeper. The yoke is a C-130 yoke. Do you Herc guys have those pencil holders?

Yes, that's a Garmin. We attach one (we now use the color 296 or 396) to the left mirror with a rubber band. Works great.

This is an old shot (about 3 years), and the old display on the right has been replaced with another 6x8 display, i.e. we now have three 6x8 displays.

The moving map is a piece of FOD, but works for what we're using it for. The moving map I've flown with in the Cirrus is a heck of a lot nicer. Overall, though, the displays are nice. There's a small 3x3 backup display on the emergency bus that will get you back should you lose your main MFD's. It provides attitude, heading, altitude, speed, mach, and ILS/LOC capability.

Overall, though, 52 years of U-2 tradition, unhampered by progress. Gotta love it.

I kinda figured that was a yoke out of a -130 E Model!!