Re: Fav CAG story (was Re: US Navy nose cone colours?)

[Gordon]

Chimp Head? I'm dying over here.

I remember one "fly off from hell" - one of the Turkeys was hard down the whole
cruise. No wait, that was nearly ALL of them... At any rate, one of them had
become a picked over shell, nearly picked clean by maint piranhas, with the
assumption that it would be craned off if we were ever allowed to return to
port. Boss and CAG decided that the thing needed to prove it could fly, and
they directed the VF squadron that owned what was left (Bureau number and a
pile of parts in the general shape of an F-14A) to make that thing a "flyer",
at least to get it off the boat. Pour Mil-L-23699 in the top, watch where it
pours out the bottom and go find the missing fitting, etc., for two weeks
solid. Electronics? "Hell, boy, its going to be a day launch with plenty of
comp'ny - yarn't going to need any navigation!" So flyoff day came, and a
whole lot of nervous folks waited to see the hemorraging flying ICU patient go
"splash" off the cat. Lots of extra cameras on deck for that launch. Prior to
engine runup, sitting on the cat as the ship pointed its nose at the Virginia
coast "right over there", the pilot was given a last warning to "just fly it
straight - we're lined up on Oceana!" - then the oil bowser was disconnected
(quite necessary as there was still plenty dribbling out the bottom) and
everyone got their cameras ready.

Whoosh - down the cat track and off into air. Drifting lower, but no apparent
fire...yet. The F-14, lagging far behind its mates, made a straight line run
to Oceana and a nice long rest at NARF. We were all DAMN surprised that thing
didn't skip its way to shore like a stone. A grape next to me asked, "I thought
that thing was supposed to crash?" "Accidents happen, bud: it 'accidentally'
didn't crash."

I always wondered who got the short straw and flew it ashore - I bet his
memories of that flyoff include some colorful language cornerning our
chimpheaded friend!

v/r
Gordon

[J]

"Gordon" > wrote in message
...

SNIP! for shortness

> Whoosh - down the cat track and off into air. Drifting lower, but no
apparent
> fire...yet. The F-14, lagging far behind its mates, made a straight line
run
> to Oceana and a nice long rest at NARF. We were all DAMN surprised that
thing
> didn't skip its way to shore like a stone. A grape next to me asked, "I
thought
> that thing was supposed to crash?" "Accidents happen, bud: it
'accidentally'
> didn't crash."
> > I always wondered who got the short straw and flew it ashore - I bet his
> memories of that flyoff include some colorful language cornerning our
> chimpheaded friend!
>
> v/r
> Gordon

The lucky guy is usually the Squadron Maintenance Officer or the Assistance
Maintenance Officer. One of the perks of the job. }:-(

A little off the subject , but I learned that it was best to rotate the
hanger queens every 30 days or less. This made it harder for the higher ups
to tell that you had a hanger queen, kept the readiness numbers up and the
exception numbers down. Of course everyone knew what you were doing, but it
also help keep the CO off you A$$ so you could get some work done. Where it
really got rough were for the guys with a detachment, and didn't have enough
aircraft for a hanger queen.

A good MaintO was never the last person to fly an aircraft. :-)

Red Rider

[Gordon]

<snip latest

>I
>just unplugged from the ICS and waited in back until the dust settled
>and snuck down below, real quick.

Valor and descretion and all that - sure - I understand.

>One of the shortest flights
>I'd had in the hummer, including a few airborne aborts, as we went
>straight into Oceana -- where we had a birdstrike on landing and blew
>a tire on rollout, in the middle of the active runway, of course ....

"Four fingers of tequila in a dirty glass. Stat."

>and then my fiance left me cooling my heels as she thought I was
>coming in w/the ship up in Norfolk :/ Man do I appreciate cell phones
>today...

Could do like my pal Mikoyan and I and just use PRC-90s to discuss our next
inport plans as our ships passed...? No, wait.. as I recall, that didn't turn
out too well....

> Of course I didn't learn my lesson and continued as Stunt Mole for
>the reminder of a colorful career (umm, try an E-2C DACM vs. an F-16
>at Key West and night traps in a Whale, in back)
>

No sir, I will not. As Winnie used to say, "NEVAH!" I have one bad long
memory that starred a Whale and you couldn't even get me in one for a tour.

I have to admit, it sounds as if you were every bit as much the flight hog as I
was in the Seasnakes. 660 SH-2F hours and 28 H-3 flight hours in one year - I
couldn't believe the Navy paid me to ride in the doorway of heloes, sorta like
a drunk being hired as a professional liquor taster. In fact, in same cases,
it was EXACTLY like that. I only miss it on days that end in the letter "Y".

v/r
Gordon
<====(A+C====>
USN SAR Aircrew

"Got anything on your radar, SENSO?"
"Nothing but my forehead, sir."

[Gordon]

>The lucky guy is usually the Squadron Maintenance Officer or the Assistance
>Maintenance Officer. One of the perks of the job.

ouch.

>A little off the subject , but I learned that it was best to rotate the
>hanger queens every 30 days or less. This made it harder for the higher ups
>to tell that you had a hanger queen, kept the readiness numbers up and the
>exception numbers down.

I had less trouble with aircraft in this category than the often volitile "just
back from rework" birds. I trust a bunch of overworked homesick 20 year olds a
lot more than the contractor guys -- I had several attempts against my life
made by aircraft in this second category. Still, I guess everyone looks at
hangar queens the same way - "I wonder what they missed...?"

>Where it
>really got rough were for the guys with a detachment, and didn't have enough
>aircraft for a hanger queen.

Agree - on H-2s, we had nine maintainers plus four pilots and a Chief,
responsible for every concievable evolution. None of the H-2 squadrons had the
luxury of a hangar queen, primarily because if we were down for maint, the
ship's whole "air wing" was down, often bringing visits from the CO or OPS
boss, trying to get the repairs expedited. Nothing like personalized service -
if we lost an engine, the ship was often trying to get us a replacement
practically before we landed. Perks of carrying the mail, Miss America, etc.
out to other ships; our skipper wanted that "damn'd H-tooo" in the air at all
times. Worked out great for us! :)

v/r
Gordon

[Michael E. Fenyes]

(Gordon) wrote in message

Could do like my pal Mikoyan and I and just use PRC-90s to discuss our
next inport plans as our ships passed...? No, wait.. as I recall,
that didn't turn out too well....


C'mon buddy, let's be a little more specific. It turned out well in
that the PRC-90's worked as advertised. We were able to have an
approximately 2 minute conversation (via 282.8 (didn't want to tell
the whole world listening in on 243.0)) where we learned that you
would return to land two days ahead of me. About the time fear and
common sense kicked in (and we ceased comms) is about the time our
respective Det Chiefs got ahold of us. THEN it didn't turn out too
well.....

Mike (Mikoyan)
AW HSL-33 '83 - '86

[Mike Kanze]

>I had less trouble with aircraft in this category than the often volitile
"just
back from rework" birds. I trust a bunch of overworked homesick 20 year
olds a
lot more than the contractor guys -- I had several attempts against my life
made by aircraft in this second category.

Ditto that.

Dave Cohen's and my little 1973 episode (a cat-stroke induced loose VDI in a
KA-6D cockpit - Hello!) was the direct result of the "great" QC work by the
Charger Blue weenies on the beach at Cubi.

PAR = "Paint And Return" (Originally: "Progressive Aircraft Rework"). <g>

Owl sends.
--
Mike Kanze

"I never hated a man enough to give his diamonds back."

- Zsa Zsa Gabor


"Gordon" > wrote in message
...
>[rest snipped]

[WaltBJ]

I'd been flying about 24 years - all fighters - when I and my student
had to eject from an F4E - fuel starvation. The bird had 3000 pounds
left and a big wad of rolled up typhoon tape (charred, but found in
the wreckage) blocked the transfer port between #2 and #1 fuselage
fuel cells. Another instance of McD's uninspired design - the fuel
probe and low level float is in cell 2 so neither worked as cell 2
stayed full while #1 ran dry. Someone at Hill AFB IRAN had left the
thing in there fifteen (15!) months prior when they were doing a
modification. Of course they denied everything and said it must have
happened after they OK'd the airplane. But since getting into the
fuselage cells requires opening up the fuselage (no access panels at
all) we all said 'yeah, right!'
Walt BJ

[Gordon]

Walt, that mirrors my experiences with those dang PAR nightmares. I know I've
posted this before, but here is my old story about the H-2 from hell -
Copyright Zero Five --


For training in the SeaSprite helicopter, I was assigned to a Replacement
Training squadron called the Archangels at Naval Air Station North Island.
This unit had a compliment of 8-10 tired old helicopters, at least one of which
assembled from the pieces of two destroyed airframes.
Every aircraft assumes at least some personality, either good, bad, or just
odd. In given instances, aircraft will either rise to the occasion, or let you
down - but the outcome was usually blamed on the lifeless aluminum kite as if
it actually breathed or erred. I used to wonder what possessed one bird, while
I felt perfectly safe flying in another. Sometimes, there was just no
question.
The radio callsign for Archangel helicopters was "Copyright", and each helo
had a corresponding side number from 00 to 14, with gaps in the series of
numbers. Aircraft 00 was called 'Double Nuts', but the rest of them went by
Copyright Zero One, Zero Two, etc. I had no problems with any of the
squadron's beat up old hacks, with the exception of Copyright Zero Five.
Our heloes were old (well, older than myself at any rate), and after a tour
with a Sea-Duty squadron, they return to the States for extensive rework.
Unfortunately, to those of us who fly in them, it often appears that 'extensive
rework' is limited to three layers of thick paint, hiding a multitude of evils.
We actually had to dig through paint to find the rivets that had been entirely
concealed during such repairs. We eyed all 'reworked' birds with a suspicious
glare.
Zero Five came to us after an extended tour with a squadron stationed in
Barbers Point, Hawaii. It had made several cruises aboard Destroyers and
Frigates from Pearl Harbor and was long overdue when it finally returned to San
Diego. It showed up in the Archangel hangar looking like a 50-year old hooker
with several hundred pounds of paint substituting for makeup.
After two acceptance flights, the helicopter was released for duty and rolled
out to the Flight Line. We were the Hot Seat Crew for that first flight: the
other crew comes in early, preflights, and then flies 2.5 hours before turning
it over to us. When they return, we slide into their seats while the helo
idles with its rotors spinning overhead.
The only real look a Hot Seat Crew gets is at the aircraft's discrepancy book
which contains any problems noted within the last ten flights. Everyone else
in the entire Navy waited until after the crew briefing to check the book -- I
didn't, because that book told me what equipment was working and what wasn't.
It seemed silly to me to brief for a submarine-hunt or Radar flight when the
Maintenance department had removed that gear for repair, but it was a common,
wasteful practice.
Zero Five's book was ominous, even closed. At least twice as thick as the
other discrepancy books, many of the gripes were the dangerous repeat variety.

From behind, the approaching pilot asked my opinion of our "Trusty Steed".
"Sir, this thing is a Steel Grave!", which was probably the wrong thing to say
to the Squadron Maint Officer. Judging by the ass chewing, you would think my
unfortunate reply had included a reference to his mother.
After a rather dry crew brief (lots of glaring), we stood widely apart on the
Flight Line, waiting for the familiar smoking dot on the horizon. Many other
squadron aircraft were noisily coming and going and we waited our turn in
silence. Of the 30-odd helicopters on the line, half were running their
engines, adding to the din.
Right on schedule at 1120, Zero Five arrived over the airfield. The MO gave
me a dagger look, and strapped on his helmet.
However, instead of landing in front of the Squadron, the helicopter slowly
motored down to the end of Runway One Eight, losing altitude and smoking more
than usual. At the far end of the runway other folks were also waiting for
Zero Five's arrival. They waited in fire trucks and rescue equipment. For a
moment, the aging helo held its hover, then gingerly landed amidst the Crash
Crew.
I popped the snaps on my helmet, and whistled my way back to the hangar.
Due to unusual circumstances, Zero Five had completed what was intended to be
an aerial maneuver by slamming into the ground at one of our practice
airfields. Autorotations* normally end at 40'; sometimes, we go ahead and land
lightly. This time, the chopper fell the last 40 feet and bounced back ten
feet in the air! NOT good.
The crew made a cursory inspection and somehow decided it was safe to fly back
home! Amazing to me.
The tailwheel had been jammed several feet up inside the helo's butt and the
entire fuselage looked like a warped washboard. Many of the electronics were
permanently wrecked and repairs were needed almost throughout the airframe.
Soooo, no flying for us that day.
I must say, I felt it was more than a coincidence that, months later, my next
acceptance flight was for Copyright Zero Five...
after it returned from 'extensive rework'!

* Autorotation - the act of disconnecting the engines from the rotors to allow
a falling helicopter to spin its rotors enough to act as an air-brake. It
works, actually. We defined it as "a method of keeping a pilot's hands and
feet occupied as he plummets to his death".

postscript:

This airframe was later destroyed without fatalities. As a short aside, the
pilot involved was Ensign Mark Cooper. During primary flight training at
Pensacola, he trashed another helicopter, bad enough to twist the rotor head
off the TH-57.
While we were stationed together, he totaled two cars and eventually crashed
an H-2 into the sea during a night takeoff. He killed himself and his
co-pilot, Lt Glenn Miller. By sheer luck, the crewman awoke in the
desintegrating wreckage and managed to swim free. 8/17/84 That lucky crewman,
AW2 Scott Montgomery, retired recently as a Senior Chief Petty Officer after a
long and interesting career.

v/r
Gordon
<====(A+C====>
USN SAR Aircrew

"Got anything on your radar, SENSO?"
"Nothing but my forehead, sir."

[Mike Kanze]

>at least one of which assembled from the pieces of two destroyed airframes.

How difficult was it to "assign" a BuNo to such a hybrid?

>We actually had to dig through paint to find the rivets that had been
entirely concealed during such repairs.

If the paint is what's holding it together, why bother? <g>

Owl sends.
--
Mike Kanze

"I never hated a man enough to give his diamonds back."

- Zsa Zsa Gabor


"Gordon" > wrote in message
...
> Walt, that mirrors my experiences with those dang PAR nightmares. I know
I've
> posted this before, but here is my old story about the H-2 from hell -
> Copyright Zero Five --
>
>
> For training in the SeaSprite helicopter, I was assigned to a Replacement
> Training squadron called the Archangels at Naval Air Station North Island.
> This unit had a compliment of 8-10 tired old helicopters, at least one of
which
> assembled from the pieces of two destroyed airframes.
> Every aircraft assumes at least some personality, either good, bad, or
just
> odd. In given instances, aircraft will either rise to the occasion, or
let you
> down - but the outcome was usually blamed on the lifeless aluminum kite as
if
> it actually breathed or erred. I used to wonder what possessed one bird,
while
> I felt perfectly safe flying in another. Sometimes, there was just no
> question.
> The radio callsign for Archangel helicopters was "Copyright", and each
helo
> had a corresponding side number from 00 to 14, with gaps in the series of
> numbers. Aircraft 00 was called 'Double Nuts', but the rest of them went
by
> Copyright Zero One, Zero Two, etc. I had no problems with any of the
> squadron's beat up old hacks, with the exception of Copyright Zero Five.
> Our heloes were old (well, older than myself at any rate), and after a
tour
> with a Sea-Duty squadron, they return to the States for extensive rework.
> Unfortunately, to those of us who fly in them, it often appears that
'extensive
> rework' is limited to three layers of thick paint, hiding a multitude of
evils.
> We actually had to dig through paint to find the rivets that had been
entirely
> concealed during such repairs. We eyed all 'reworked' birds with a
suspicious
> glare.
> Zero Five came to us after an extended tour with a squadron stationed in
> Barbers Point, Hawaii. It had made several cruises aboard Destroyers and
> Frigates from Pearl Harbor and was long overdue when it finally returned
to San
> Diego. It showed up in the Archangel hangar looking like a 50-year old
hooker
> with several hundred pounds of paint substituting for makeup.
> After two acceptance flights, the helicopter was released for duty and
rolled
> out to the Flight Line. We were the Hot Seat Crew for that first flight:
the
> other crew comes in early, preflights, and then flies 2.5 hours before
turning
> it over to us. When they return, we slide into their seats while the helo
> idles with its rotors spinning overhead.
> The only real look a Hot Seat Crew gets is at the aircraft's discrepancy
book
> which contains any problems noted within the last ten flights. Everyone
else
> in the entire Navy waited until after the crew briefing to check the
ook -- I
> didn't, because that book told me what equipment was working and what
wasn't.
> It seemed silly to me to brief for a submarine-hunt or Radar flight when
the
> Maintenance department had removed that gear for repair, but it was a
common,
> wasteful practice.
> Zero Five's book was ominous, even closed. At least twice as thick as the
> other discrepancy books, many of the gripes were the dangerous repeat
variety.
>
> From behind, the approaching pilot asked my opinion of our "Trusty Steed".
> "Sir, this thing is a Steel Grave!", which was probably the wrong thing to
say
> to the Squadron Maint Officer. Judging by the ass chewing, you would
think my
> unfortunate reply had included a reference to his mother.
> After a rather dry crew brief (lots of glaring), we stood widely apart on
the
> Flight Line, waiting for the familiar smoking dot on the horizon. Many
other
> squadron aircraft were noisily coming and going and we waited our turn in
> silence. Of the 30-odd helicopters on the line, half were running their
> engines, adding to the din.
> Right on schedule at 1120, Zero Five arrived over the airfield. The MO
gave
> me a dagger look, and strapped on his helmet.
> However, instead of landing in front of the Squadron, the helicopter
slowly
> motored down to the end of Runway One Eight, losing altitude and smoking
more
> than usual. At the far end of the runway other folks were also waiting
for
> Zero Five's arrival. They waited in fire trucks and rescue equipment.
For a
> moment, the aging helo held its hover, then gingerly landed amidst the
Crash
> Crew.
> I popped the snaps on my helmet, and whistled my way back to the hangar.
> Due to unusual circumstances, Zero Five had completed what was intended to
be
> an aerial maneuver by slamming into the ground at one of our practice
> airfields. Autorotations* normally end at 40'; sometimes, we go ahead and
land
> lightly. This time, the chopper fell the last 40 feet and bounced back
ten
> feet in the air! NOT good.
> The crew made a cursory inspection and somehow decided it was safe to fly
back
> home! Amazing to me.
> The tailwheel had been jammed several feet up inside the helo's butt and
the
> entire fuselage looked like a warped washboard. Many of the electronics
were
> permanently wrecked and repairs were needed almost throughout the
airframe.
> Soooo, no flying for us that day.
> I must say, I felt it was more than a coincidence that, months later, my
next
> acceptance flight was for Copyright Zero Five...
> after it returned from 'extensive rework'!
>
> * Autorotation - the act of disconnecting the engines from the rotors to
allow
> a falling helicopter to spin its rotors enough to act as an air-brake. It
> works, actually. We defined it as "a method of keeping a pilot's hands
and
> feet occupied as he plummets to his death".
>
> postscript:
>
> This airframe was later destroyed without fatalities. As a short aside,
the
> pilot involved was Ensign Mark Cooper. During primary flight training at
> Pensacola, he trashed another helicopter, bad enough to twist the rotor
head
> off the TH-57.
> While we were stationed together, he totaled two cars and eventually
crashed
> an H-2 into the sea during a night takeoff. He killed himself and his
> co-pilot, Lt Glenn Miller. By sheer luck, the crewman awoke in the
> desintegrating wreckage and managed to swim free. 8/17/84 That lucky
crewman,
> AW2 Scott Montgomery, retired recently as a Senior Chief Petty Officer
after a
> long and interesting career.
>
> v/r
> Gordon
> <====(A+C====>
> USN SAR Aircrew
>
> "Got anything on your radar, SENSO?"
> "Nothing but my forehead, sir."

[Gordon]

>
>>at least one of which assembled from the pieces of two destroyed airframes.
>
>How difficult was it to "assign" a BuNo to such a hybrid?

In both the H-3 and H-2 instances that I am aware of this happening, one of the
two aircraft was listed as substantially damaged, the other CAT A, so the CAT A
aircraft ceased to exist (so I was told). At one time, I guess there were a
lot of half-destroyed H-2s laying around (gee, imagine that), so the Kaman guys
in the unused HSL hangar... well, honestly, I haven't a clue HOW such a mating
occurs. Under the light of a full moon, during a three weekend payday cycle,
the witches of Kaman gather <cackle>

>>We actually had to dig through paint to find the rivets that had been
>entirely concealed during such repairs.
>
>If the paint is what's holding it together, why bother? <g>

Call it professional curiosity. :)

v/r
Gordon

[Pechs1]

Gordon-<< I always wondered who got the short straw and flew it ashore - I bet
his
memories of that flyoff include some colorful language cornerning our
chimpheaded friend!
>><BR><BR>


It had better have been the MO...why he got paid the big bucks...
P. C. Chisholm
CDR, USN(ret.)
Old Phart Phormer Phantom, Turkey, Viper, Scooter and Combat Buckeye Phlyer

[J]

"Pechs1" > wrote in message
...
> Gordon-<< I always wondered who got the short straw and flew it ashore - I
bet
> his
> memories of that flyoff include some colorful language cornerning our
> chimpheaded friend!
> >><BR><BR>
>
>
> It had better have been the MO...why he got paid the big bucks...
> P. C. Chisholm
> CDR, USN(ret.)
> Old Phart Phormer Phantom, Turkey, Viper, Scooter and Combat Buckeye
Phlyer


What?????

What Navy were you in? I never had enough money. From Yokuska to Sidney,
from Pearl to Singapore, I had hundreds depending on me. And what about my
periodic foreign aid program to the Med?

Red Rider

[Pechs1]

triangle-<< What?????

What Navy were you in? I never had enough money. From Yokuska to Sidney,
from Pearl to Singapore, I had hundreds depending on me. >><BR><BR>

geeezzz, I was kidding...about the $$..big bucks, how thankless a Dept HD job
can be and all...
P. C. Chisholm
CDR, USN(ret.)
Old Phart Phormer Phantom, Turkey, Viper, Scooter and Combat Buckeye Phlyer

[J]

"Pechs1" > wrote in message
...
> triangle-<< What?????
>
> What Navy were you in? I never had enough money. From Yokuska to Sidney,
> from Pearl to Singapore, I had hundreds depending on me. >><BR><BR>
>
> geeezzz, I was kidding...about the $$..big bucks, how thankless a Dept HD
job
> can be and all...
> P. C. Chisholm
> CDR, USN(ret.)
> Old Phart Phormer Phantom, Turkey, Viper, Scooter and Combat Buckeye
Phlyer


OK, that's a relief. I was worried that I might have missed something, Its
good to know that some things never change.

Red Rider