Ed Rasimus writes:

On Mon, 8 Jan 2007 13:51:39 -0700, "Jeff Crowell"
wrote:


Didn't happen to me, but to a friend while we were in Basic
Jet in Kingsville, TX. Late in the Fam series, one each student
and IP in a Tango Two, IP in the back. There was a dingus
back there which let the IP slew the directional gyro in order to
test the S.A. of the stud up front. Approaching the end of the
hop, said IP applied said dingus, and said "let's go home."


I've often commented on the "every German goes to Zippers" program
that was ongoing at Willy Air Patch when I was a student.

We had one of the less gifted Luftwaffe types--a 1/Lt and therefore
class commander of his section. On an area solo in the T-37, late in
the afternoon he was doing prescribed acro and maneuvers. When it came
time to come home, his DG had precessed about 30 degrees. He headed
back on compass heading into the setting Arizona sun.

When he started looking for the turn point to head north to the San
Tan mountains and the pattern entry point, he had flown past Coolidge
AZ and mis-identified Casa Grande as the town. Shortly thereafter when
he didn't find the mountains, he went back to start over. Getting
darker by this time.

Finally he admitted being lost and called up Phoenix FSS for a
"practice DF steer"--something that had been demo'ed for him the week
before. (T-37s did not have transponders in those days.) The FSS tell
him they don't do night practice DFs. He says, "give me one of the
other kind."

Successive DF cuts and an obvious compass error finally gets the DF
controller to head him properly north. Now fuel is becoming a factor
and the sun has set. Really dark out. We hadn't yet reached the night
flying phase of training.

"What do you see?" the controller asks.

"Lots of lights"--i.e. Phoenix.

"Head slightly right of the lights. Tell me what you see."

"Now I see a green and split-white beacon." (A military airfield.)

"That's Williams. Head that way. Contact Williams tower."

Tower sees his lights.He sees the base. Fuel is 75 pounds. Wing DO is
on the radio. DO says "bottom your seat and stow lose equipment."

Student complies, then reality dawns and he says, "it's not yet time
for bailing out, it's time for SFO" (simulated flame-out landing
pattern)

We students in the flight room have heard of Artur's plight, so we run
out onto the flightline. Pitch dark. A flashing beacon and nav lights
appear overhead--no engine noise. A weird whistling of wind over metal
wings, usually masked by the howl of two J-69-T-25 Continentals.

He circles and lands out of an ACTUAL flameout pattern. Logs 2 hours
and 27 minutes of flying time--usual mission duration is about an hour
less.

Research of his gradebook shows previous attempts at 13 SFOs with only
one accomplished successfully. Record of actual flameouts is 100%.

Great story. Sadly I am not a pilot, but can imagine how at times like
the students' SA and neuropathways explode and gear shift several
notches higher, never to come down again!
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