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Post by pat perry on Apr 30, 2012 5:28:36 GMT 9
BUMPED THREADTall Tales II Contest to the top of Maintenance Talk category There are 31 good Tall Tales from Jan-Feb 2010 in here that you may want to review. I didn't see Lorin's in there so his latest story yesterday in the Run Up License thread is brand new. There are thousands more out there so let's hear them. Cougar, I'll bet you have a thousand by yourself! Pat P.
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Post by lugnuts55 on Apr 30, 2012 7:30:20 GMT 9
Pat,
Thanks for bringing this thread out again. I have my 2nd place clock sitting my desk so I get to look at it every day. I love things made from wood and this is a unique example of something made of wood and then dressed up with that neat cutout of a 106. The engraved dog tag is a nice touch. Then the clock puts it all together. Beauty plus usefulness. It can't be beat.
You're right about the stories, too. It's fun to go back and read them again. Thanks again.
Mike
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Post by LBer1568 on Apr 30, 2012 11:22:45 GMT 9
Thats my story and I'm sticking to it.
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Post by MOW on Apr 30, 2012 13:23:03 GMT 9
This is a good one to bring back. Kind of forgot about it, it's been so long, but we do have a lot of tall tales being told, so it was a great idea to bring this back up Pat.
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Post by rlacourse on Nov 6, 2012 21:51:53 GMT 9
Well this may notbe a tall tale to some, but at Griffis AFB in the late 70s I worked in the Phase Dock. There was this one plane that we have to take strings to the vertical tail to the wind tip etc to find out how bad the the acft was warped after landing itself in a corn field. That pane flew to the last day, adn now resides in Dayton OH. THis was the plane I was introduced to the ECHO check! what great days!
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Post by Jim on Aug 23, 2016 11:50:37 GMT 9
OK, weather reports are boring, so, lets re-read some of these from 6 years ago. I had forgotten some of them..............
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Post by Bullhunter on Aug 24, 2016 2:37:51 GMT 9
This is the first story out of my book on CD. Hope you enjoy it and if you would like a CD just message me.
Thrill of Flight
I’ve always been fascinated about aircraft and the thrill of flight, as far back as I can remember. My Dad was a flight instructor during WWII and he talked very little about the war, but he took me too many military air shows where we watched the Navy Blue Angels and the Air Force Thunderbirds fly their jets. I recall running around, talking with the pilots, maintenance technicians, and inspecting the jets up close. The sounds, smells, and excitement of these air shows do get into your blood and stay there.
I remember my first air show with my Dad. It was at the Air National Guard Base outside Schenectady, NY. I was very young and it was in the 1960's. We were living in Albany, NY at the time. My Dad had a station wagon and we got to the air show very early. I guess the Thunderbirds were just flying in as we arrived.
I spotted the formation of F-100's swooping down over the trees in the distance and they turned on their smoke. I started yelling, “It started already, it started already!” and my Dad said , "No son, the Thunderbirds fly at 4:00PM this afternoon." I then yelled, "Stop Stop, here they come!" My dad looked to the left and he saw them also now over the farmers fields. He stopped the car and within 10-15 seconds they flew right over our car. That roar of the jet engines, smell of the jet exhaust fumes, and the smoke I experienced for the first time was just awesome.
Sorry photo will not copy with text. Its F-100's The Thunderbirds.
USAF Photo
They made a few more passes and may Dad didn't move the car, as we were parked just outside the fence at the end of the runway. After the Thunderbirds landed my Dad drove us onto the base and parked.
We spent the day walking around and exploring all the military aircraft. My Mom told me that my Uncle Alex (Her Brother) was a crew member on a Strategic Air Command (SAC) Air Force Tanker Aircraft. My Dad was an instructor during WWII.
We’d made our way around and through the crowds ending up in front of the Thunderbird Jets. I was disappointed because my Dad did not bring his camera.
Those air shows back when I was younger were a lot different than they are today. I was able to just walk up to a Thunderbird F-100 Sabre Jets and put my hands on them. Several of the jets had ladders up to the cockpit so you could look inside and talk with the crew chief. There is a lot more security today.
After that air show I knew I had to be part of the United States Air Force.
I remember, and can recall, quite a bit about my growing up years. One thing I regret is not asking or questioning my Dad about his past more. After my Dad’s death in 1988 I had plenty of questions for my Uncle Ralph.
My Uncle Ralph was like a second farther to me. We worked the farm together and he shared his interest in rifle ballistics and aircraft. My Dad, after serving as a flight instructor during WWII did not return to work the farm. Instead he spent time working for Western Union and the New York Central Railroad, which later became the Penn Central Railroad. He retired from the railroad sometime around 1980 or earlier.
Dad was quiet about his military service, but my Uncle Ralph talked with me about a flight my Dad took on a B-17 Flying Fortress across the United States from California. He was on a military leave during WWII heading home for a visit and caught a ride on that B-17 bomber.
Passing over Pikes Peak in Colorado several of the oxygen masks had failures. The deicer functions failed and several of the crewmembers were unable to receive oxygen. After the B-17 passed over Pikes Peak and cleared the mountains the pilot dove the bomber down to a lower altitude where oxygen was not needed.
After my fathers untimely death in 1988 I was able to trace his military service through letters and cards he had sent home during his service during WWII. I discovered that these letters and cards placed my Dad at Thunderbird Field in Arizona, Lancaster Field in California, and Sheppard Field in Texas. At the end of the war my Dad was discharged at Chanute Field, Illinois. I filed a request with the Department Of Defense for a copy of my Dad’s military service during WWII but was informed that those records were lost during an arson fire set by Vietnam War protesters.
I also have possession of my Dad’s photo album he put together during his service during the war which helped me confirm his assignments and travels. Some of the photos have locations and dates written on the back in pencil.
I’ve found all of this very interesting, because in 1971 I went to Chanute Air Force Base, Illinois for Jet Engine Propulsion School. In 1999 my daughter attended Jet Engine Propulsion School at Sheppard Air Force Base, Texas. After my daughter completed her training she started her career at McChord Air Force Base where I spent many years working on jet fighter interceptors and transport jets.
Thanks to my lovely wife I was provided the opportunity to experience flight as my Dad did in a WWII Boeing B-17 Bomber. This historical flight was in the form of a gift certificate purchased by my wife for Father’s Day and our Wedding Anniversary. The historical flight took place in June 1999.
The B-17 was fully restored by the Collings Foundation and each year made tours around the country. Several times in the past we took our children to see and have tours through the war birds that the Collings Foundation flew around the country. I viewed it as a very valuable history lesson, as it was not being taught in the public schools. It also provided a brief connection with what my children’s grandfather had experienced during WWII.
My B-17 flight departed Bremerton Airport in Washington State. We flew formation with a WWII B-24 Bomber most of the hour and 15 minute flight. Shortly after take-off we flew over the U.S. Naval Shipyard at Bremerton, WA and headed north toward the Port Townsend area. We banked westward toward the Olympic Mountain Range and then southward along the mountains.
Throughout the flight I was able to move about the aircraft from the nose to the tail section. This included all the gunner positions and turrets except of the ball turret, pilots and co-pilots positions.
The flight was awesome, a real trip back in time. The sounds and vibrations emanating from those four Wright Cyclone R-1820 engines is something you never forget. The shaking, the sounds of rushing air, and the open views, are truly a time machine that takes one back over six decades of flight.
I've taken all my kids to air shows. I’ve also taken them to work with me out on the flightline a few times using my security escort badge. Several times for their birthdays I rented a small Cessna aircraft and paid an instructor pilot to take my children up flying. The instructor would allow them to fly the aircraft and get the feel of controlled flight. My daughter joined the United States Air Force Reserves (USAFR) in 1999. She has been on constant active duty orders except for when she had her baby 4 years ago. She currently is a jet engine technician on C-17's. I wonder if the air shows, renting aircraft, and taking her to work, had anything to do with her join the USAF.
I remember my first aircraft flight like it was yesterday. I had been working at a grocery store called Central Markets and had just taken a new position at a company called City Products Inc., as it paid more. It was commonly called “The Ice House’ because they made ice and sold it to the city’s stores. I quickly made friends with an Air Force Veteran who had also only worked there a short time. He was using his GI Bill Education Benefits to take flight instructions. We were making crushed ice and filling ice bags one day when we started talking about aircraft and the United States Air Force. I was all ears.
At one point he asked, “Gary, have you ever been up flying?” I responded “No” in a disappointed tone. He then said, “So, you have never experienced flight?” Again I replied “No.” His next question was one that caught me off guard, “Well Gary, do you want to go flying with me this weekend?” My answer was a quick, “Thanks, yes I do!” He explained that he had already completed flight school and soloed. He was now flying to build up flight hours so he could start instrument flight training and classes.
My mother was somewhat suspicious but agreed after he stopped Saturday morning to pick me up. It was a perfect day to fly, sunny, warm, and scattered clouds. We got to Albany Airport and checked in with the flight school. The flight school administrator asked him, “Who is this kid and why is he here?” My friend explained that I’d never been in an aircraft and he was going to take me flying with him. The administrator said, “You can’t take passengers with you when the GI Bill is paying for your flight hours.” They talked back and forth and I was very disappointed. Then I heard the administrator say, “If the kid hides out past the hanger in the grass where I can’t see, and you let him in the aircraft, then I don’t know anything.”
That is exactly what I did. I hid out of sight and when my friend taxied the aircraft out near me I got in the aircraft. I fastened my seatbelt and put on the extra set of headphones. I listened as my friend talked with the tower and shortly we were rolling down the runway. The aircraft lifted off and we flew around for two hours over fields, forest, lakes, and hills. A few times he even let me make a few turns with the aircraft. At one point he said, “I need to practice a few emergency approaches.” I quickly asked, “What emergency, what are you talking about?”
He explained, “Pilots need to practice for emergencies just in case they have one someday.” He went on and told me, “I’ll put the engine in idle to simulate an engine failure and lose of power; then we will look for a field to make an emergency landing in and I’ll fly an approach. Just before we land I’ll increase the engines power and we will continue our flight.”
Soon our two hours were almost up. We landed and before we got insight of the Flight School’s Office he stopped and I exited the aircraft, then I met him at his vehicle. That flight almost seems like it was yesterday.
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Post by adart on Aug 24, 2016 7:54:12 GMT 9
Just read that the other day from your CD. Thanks again. I could feel as if I was right in that car with the jets flying over...  |
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Post by Bullhunter on Aug 24, 2016 16:24:35 GMT 9
Thanks "adart" Took my kids to lots of Airshows at Sembach AB and McChord AFB. My two sons didn't listen to Mom & Dad and got DUI's so the military would not take them. Our Daughter was a straight A student and no legal problems. I was surprised she enlisted out of high school and went into the USAF as a jet engine technician, like I was. She has done well and even did a stretch as a 1st Sgt after she made MSgt. No she works TA at RAF Mildenhall. Her husband is also MSgt and works at RAF Lakenheath. Now I take my son and my grandson's to a few airshows at McChord.  |
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Post by Bullhunter on Aug 24, 2016 16:29:10 GMT 9
Pat, Thanks for bringing this thread out again. I have my 2nd place clock sitting my desk so I get to look at it every day. I love things made from wood and this is a unique example of something made of wood and then dressed up with that neat cutout of a 106. The engraved dog tag is a nice touch. Then the clock puts it all together. Beauty plus usefulness. It can't be beat. You're right about the stories, too. It's fun to go back and read them again. Thanks again. Mike Mike, this is my clock made by Jim.
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Post by lugnuts55 on Aug 25, 2016 4:39:08 GMT 9
Pat, Thanks for bringing this thread out again. I have my 2nd place clock sitting my desk so I get to look at it every day. I love things made from wood and this is a unique example of something made of wood and then dressed up with that neat cutout of a 106. The engraved dog tag is a nice touch. Then the clock puts it all together. Beauty plus usefulness. It can't be beat. You're right about the stories, too. It's fun to go back and read them again. Thanks again. Mike Mike, this is my clock made by Jim.
Gary, I have moved since the Tall Tales II and I have a great place for my clock award. I never get tired of looking at it.   |
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Post by lugnuts55 on Aug 25, 2016 5:25:39 GMT 9
After I replied to the post from Bullhunter, I thought about what I had said and thought I should add something to it.
For The Old Sarg: I said that I look at my clock often and that is true. What is also true is that when I do, I think of you in your woodshop making some of the finest sawdust anywhere. The clocks aren't too shabby either. Actually, I get a lot of comments on the clock and I am proud to tell them that it was made by a friend of mine just for me. We are lucky to have a guy like you who truly enjoys making a product for other guys who cherish that product as much as I do. Thanks for a very nice job. I hereby nominate you for a Meritorious Service medal.
Mike
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Post by Jim on Aug 25, 2016 6:45:12 GMT 9
After I replied to the post from Bullhunter, I thought about what I had said and thought I should add something to it. For The Old Sarg: I said that I look at my clock often and that is true. What is also true is that when I do, I think of you in your woodshop making some of the finest sawdust anywhere. The clocks aren't too shabby either. Actually, I get a lot of comments on the clock and I am proud to tell them that it was made by a friend of mine just for me. We are lucky to have a guy like you who truly enjoys making a product for other guys who cherish that product as much as I do. Thanks for a very nice job. I hereby nominate you for a Meritorious Service medal. Mike |
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Post by pat perry on Aug 25, 2016 9:35:27 GMT 9
After I replied to the post from Bullhunter, I thought about what I had said and thought I should add something to it. For The Old Sarg: I said that I look at my clock often and that is true. What is also true is that when I do, I think of you in your woodshop making some of the finest sawdust anywhere. The clocks aren't too shabby either. Actually, I get a lot of comments on the clock and I am proud to tell them that it was made by a friend of mine just for me. We are lucky to have a guy like you who truly enjoys making a product for other guys who cherish that product as much as I do. Thanks for a very nice job. I hereby nominate you for a Meritorious Service medal. Mike Mike, I can't tell you how much the Old Sarge has helped us over the years with his posts and his clocks. There are a number of threads that contain pictures of his artistic clocks and I have pictures of most all of them buried in my photo archive archives that I would like to find and print in a special Old Sarge Jim Gier thread one of these days.
At the All F-106 Reunion in Colorado Springs last year, it took a luggage dolly to get all his clocks to the meeting room where they were awarded and used for raffle fund raising for the next reunion in Nashville. I have a thumb drive of pictures from that reunion and somewhere in it are pictures of all the folks who received them. I just have to find them for the special thread.
God broke the mold when he created the Old Sarge and it's probably a good thing he did. Can you imagine what it would be like to have TWO of him on the Forum?!
I'm glad Gary copied that "Thrill of Flight" story from his book on DVD. If there is anyone reading this that doesn't own a copy of his DVD book, you are missing a great piece of literature. It was the Old Sarge who started the Tall Tales contests to get us to ferret out the stories lurking in our memory. Even Gene the weather man wrote his multipart story on his time on the mountain watching for forest fires. Many of the Tall Tales stories were told by our brothers who are no longer with us [RIP]. It's worth reviewing them to make us think about the stories we have yet to tell.
We've got some great stories buried among the 50,494 posts on this Forum and many more that are yet to be told. I've already seen several that started to be told on the "Weather or not" thread, so I know there's a lot more out there. Hell, start your own story thread on the Forum and write a book if you want to. Someday, your children and grandchildren will be glad you documented parts of your life that you may never have told them about because you thought they wouldn't be interested. Believe me, after you are gone they will want to know more about you. And they will only remember 10% of what you told them unless your write a book like Gary did.
All we have to leave behind is our history, and maybe a clock that the Old Sarge made for us. They can turn that clock over and find out who made it for them and why. How many of your grandkids know why you joined the Air Force and what it meant to you?
Pat P.
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Post by lugnuts55 on Aug 25, 2016 12:02:24 GMT 9
Pat,
I couldn't agree more with everything you said! I bought Gary's DVD a long time ago, maybe even was one of the first few that he sold. I thought it was a good story of his life. Some things are similar to mine and a few things are very unique to him. But you're right, we all have a story to tell and I have started writing my story several times. I did remember to print out what I wrote and put it in a file with everything else. There are some huge gaps that I will fill eventually. As I get older, though, it has become glaringly obvious to me that we don't have any idea how long we have left. The first time I was in the hospital about a year before my four month stay that Jim II kept reminding me to update you about, I spent a month in the hospital with a serious blood infection and I spent the first 8 days in ICU. When they brought me out of the coma, they said they thought they lost me. Sue was very worried about losing me. The funny thing was that there were no real symptoms except for a sudden excruciating pain. We just don't know when our number will be called. So I put up with Sue telling me to get off the computer and away from my desk. I like it here at my desk with my computer. Maybe that's a sign that I should really get going on it before I don't want to do it anymore.
More and more guys are writing about their lives and, so far, the ones I have read are pretty good. One person I know wrote a story loosely based on his life but wrote a fictional story that has some excitement in it and even a little sex. I guess he has written a couple more after that but I haven't heard about them yet. The point is that it is becoming more fashionable to write a story about your experiences. We know that we will most likely have an audience in at least one area of our lives. I just finished reading about a crew chief that did a great job of telling "our" story. It was quite amusing but also quite true. I didn't know this author but the experiences he describes could have easily been mine, or yours, or another crew chief.
I truly hope to be able to make it to the reunion in Nashville next year because I would like to meet you and Jim if you are able to make it there. There are some people we would like to meet in our lives. I would like to meet Chuck Yeager. I have met Steve Ritchie and Chuck DeBellevue, although I would like to run into them again somewhere. There are others on my list, but they are likely meetings not about to happen. You and Jim are on my "down to earth" list and highly likely to happen. I hope we all can make it next year.
Mike
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Post by Bullhunter on Aug 25, 2016 18:51:03 GMT 9
Hear is another true story out of my CD Book. Still can't get pictures to copy with the stories. I wrote about a lot of things, not just my military service. Want pictures also? Guess you will have to ask for my CD. 
School and Teenager Troubles
During most of my school years I spent in Albany, New York with my mother and younger brother, as are parents were separated. City life and I did not get along. I hated the city environment, traffic, sirens, and crowds, all with sounds, smells, and views that were uncomfortable and disrupting. Until this day I just love the country life. Most all my relatives owned farms in the hills of Pennsylvania. Summer vacations, holidays, and weekends I always went to the farms. My Dad also took me to the farms for the first few days of deer hunting season each year. He and I hunted whitetail deer as far back as I can remember.
The Farm in Pennsylvania-view from the north Photo: G. Price
Farm-view from the south Photo: G. Price
I had a few scrapes while growing up in the city like most kids. One incident inparticular involving the police comes to mind. About 1965 or 1966 a police officer put me in his patrol car and took me downtown to the police station where he put me in a holding cell.
Guess I should explain this.
I was a young teenager on my way back from a baseball game. My young brother and another neighborhood kid were fighting and my brother was doing pretty well against him. This kid's dad let their two German Sheppard dogs out of their house and they headed for my brother as he climbed up on a parked car to take refuge.
Arriving on the scene just as the dogs were trying to get to him I started swinging my baseball bat, a Louisville Slugger. I connected with one dog's head and the dog went down. The second dog I swung at was struck in the side and took off for home yelping. My adrenalin was pumping high and I was in a very combative state. I chased after the dog and the dog went into the house, the kid’s dad slammed the door and was holding it close. I was mad and full of fight over these dogs being sent after my brother. Leaning back I thrust forward with the baseball bat with all my might and wrath shoving the head of the bat into the door. I was shocked when the bat penetrated the door. I heard someone yell out a curse word on the other side of the door. I did not know it at that time, but the bat hit the kid’s dad in the groin forcing him to the floor.
About that time I heard brakes squeal behind me in the street, when I turned around I saw red flashing lights, and a police officer was already getting out of the patrol car with his hand on his revolver and commanded, "Kid drop the bat!" I guess I was still on my adrenalin high standing there looking down the steps at the police officer holding my bat. He repeated again, "Kid, back-up will be here in a few seconds, time to drop that damn bat and get your ass down here and in the car!", as he opened the back door of the police cruiser. I figure I better do it - as the next ass whooping would surely be mine.
My visit to the police station was not a long one, as my Mom showed up with her lawyer shortly thereafter. We were out of there and back home, but the police kept my bat as evidence. After all I’d sent two dogs to the animal hospital, did property damage, and put an adult man on the floor with my baseball bat.
I went to court with my Mom, Dad, and our lawyer. The other guy told his story, and then the police officer told his. Then I was able to tell my story. Of course the other kid’s dad forgot to mention to the court that he turned two German Sheppard dogs loose to attack my younger brother. The Judge’s wisdom was basically, a case of self-defense; I’d come to the aid and defense of my brother protecting him from two savage dogs. The judge offered a solution. If my Dad would replace the broken front door all charges would be dropped.
My Dad agreed to replace the front door, so a few days later we went to the local building supply and my dad said, “I’m looking for a door.” The sales person asked, “Inside or outside door.” My dad quickly replied, "Inside.” That next second I said, "But Dad it’s an outside door." My Dad smiled at me and said, "Just listen and watch." So I did. My Dad picked through the doors and said, "This is the type of wood I'm looking for!”
He installed that door and it was springtime. He told me to keep an eye on that door and see what it looks like after a few weeks of rain. I noticed that door about a month later and it was all warped and cracking. I reported that observation to my Dad and he gave me that little smile and said. "Had that man not let the dogs loose I would have gotten him a very nice outside door." You see, my Dad had a college degree in Forestry and knew all about wood. It was a very good lesson for me, and I realized my Dad was a very wise man. I never did get my favorite baseball bat back.
There was only one other time in my life (about 1979) that I can recall I got so mad and combative and that sent an Air Force Sergeant to the base hospital emergency room. That was deemed by the Air Force as a case of self defense as I had been touched first, was provoked, and I had just cause. But that’s another story I’ll tell in a later chapter. I've mellowed allot over the years!
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Post by Bullhunter on Aug 30, 2016 1:16:10 GMT 9
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Post by pat perry on Aug 30, 2016 4:00:26 GMT 9
BUMP. Maybe this will get something started, Gary. I'm sure there's a lot of stories that have never been told that are still out there. Doesn't have to be USAF related. Pat P.
Reply #3 on Jan 8, 2010 at 10:01pm
Post by Bullhunter on Jan 8, 2010 at 10:01pm
Crazy Forward Air Control Mission (True Story) Tale #1
By Bullhunter
During the year 1980 while assigned to Sembach Air Base, West Germany I was deployed to a small German Air Base in northern Germany near the town of Flensburg.
We were deployed with 4 aircraft (OV-10A Bronco’s,) in support of a multinational military exercise. For this deployment, and to maintain and service the aircraft, just four of us maintenance personnel were sent. The maintenance team was made up of an Aircraft Crew Chief (MSgt), Jet Engine Technician (TSgt - myself), Com/Nav Technician (SSgt), and a Hydraulics Mechanic (SSgt). The pilot in charge of the deployment was a Major who I had flown with on several other occasions, and he liked getting maintenance troops to fly when the back seat co-pilot’s position was empty. So, I knew the 4 of us would be getting some flight hours if we wanted.
During our two weeks I went on several Forward Air Control Missions, but this mission I remember quite well, as it was crazy, and scared the crap out of me.
I remember the night before the mission, the major telling me he was flying the 1st mission that day and there would be no copilot in the back seat, so he ask if I’d like to fly along with him. I did not need to be asked twice, and I responded, “Yes sir!” I then said, “That’s if Master Sergeant Capps gives me his OK.” Which he did.
The next morning I met the Major out at our aircraft and I collected my flight gear. We did the aircraft walk-around preflight inspection and the regular flight safety briefing. That is when we talked about what we would do in case of in-flight emergencies, etc. The major briefed “We will be flying under 10,000 feet so keep the zero delay opening cord hooked to the parachute, and if we need to eject for any reason I will say eject, eject, and you pull your ejection d-ring and go – if you hesitate waiting to here a 3rd eject you will be by yourself, because I will be gone” as he laughed. I’d heard this safety joke on our previous flights, so I laughed along with him. We checked over the aircraft forms for any write ups and then strapped into the ejection seats.
It was a beautiful day to fly, a nice crisp morning with scattered clouds in a blue sky. We started our two turbo-prop engines, one of my maintenance co-workers pulled the wheel chocks, the pilot got clearance, and we taxied out to the end of the runway. The Pilot again got clearance from the tower and pushed the engine throttles forward and the props bit into the air, and down the runway we went and lifted off.
We climbed to about 4,000 or 5,000 feet and headed for the target area. Our mission was to orbit close to the target area (convoy of trucks and tanks) and to make radio contact with a British Forward Air Control Commando who was hidden in the brush spying on the convoy. He would radio us information on targets and anti-aircraft threats to pass on to our NATO strike aircraft that would simulate bombing and strafing the area.
The Major made radio contact with the British Commando and we set up an orbit at 5,000 feet above a lake. As the British (FAC) passed target data to the Major he was writing it down on his side canopy with a grease pencil, then he’d contact inbound strike aircraft requesting types of (simulated) ordinance and instructing them on the location of their specific targets. I was in awe at the smooth operation of how it was all going, radio communications from the British (FAC) to us, and then us sending it all to the strike aircraft; and I had a ringside seat above it all. I watched and listened as the radio chattered and I watched the strike aircraft pass below us and around us on their way to the assigned targets. There were F-4 Phantom’s, F-15 Eagles, and a few other aircraft I couldn’t make out flown by the British Royal Air Force.
I was having a good time watching the coordinated air action and was thinking that I should have brought my camera. Then it happened, I heard the Major say to me over the intercom “Gary, take the control stick and keep us at 5,000 feet and orbit the lake. Fast moving strike aircraft expect us over the lake and at 5,000 feet. Their altitudes are about 2,000 to 3,500 feet and we don’t want to get in their way and have a midair.” I was thinking to myself “NO FOOLING!” The major then added, “We usually have two pilots up here doing this.”
So, I took the flight control stick as the tempo of the air strikes and radio communications increased. I circled the lake and kept my eyes on the altimeter and the altimeter’s foot marker.
As I listened to the action I heard some inbound F-15’s going to do a strafing run over the target so I kept one eye on the altimeter and the other looking for the inbound F-15’s. They were fairly easy to spot, they were painted gray and flying over a forest of green. I picked two of them out in the distance and watched them, all the while checking our altimeter.
The major was really busy in the front seat running the air strikes and I could see how flying at the same time might be over burdening. Then I heard the Major say, “Gary, stay over the lake.” I glanced at the altimeter and we were at our desired altitude and then I glanced down and noticed we were about to pass over the lakeshore. For what seemed an hour I’d been flying wide easy circles around the lake and making some figure 8’s over the lake, so we were not always turning the same way, and I had flown it all smoothly.
Now it was time to make a quicker turn to keep us over the lake, so I pushed the control stick to the right and started a right turn bank, but it was kind of slow, so I pulled back on the control stick some more to tighten our turn. I was watching for other air traffic while banking and noticed the major writing on the side canopy glass with his black grease pencil again, when all of a sudden his grease pencil skipped across the canopy glass leaving a long black grease pencil streak. The major laughed and said, “Gary watch the g’s (g-forces) - makes it hard to write.” I replied, “Sorry, yes sir” as I completed our turn and leveled the wings.
I flew for about another 15 to 20 minutes when the radio squawked an in-flight emergency. A German Air Force F-4 jet suffered a bird strike during an attack run and the bird came through the jets windscreen glass and injured the pilot. The co-pilot WSO (Weapons Systom Officer) was now flying the German F-4 to an emergency landing.
A few minutes later all fast moving jet fighters were directed out of the area due to bird warnings and it was just us in our OV-10A Bronco. Our aircraft normally flew around at about 175 – 200 MPH or less so I figured a bird impact wouldn’t be too much of a threat to us. Besides we were at 5,000 feet.
Then a request came over the radio from command authority someplace requesting us to switch from FAC to STRIKE aircraft so the military exercise could continue. The major replied over the radio that we would fly strike against the target. He then asked me over the intercom if I was having a good time. I replied something like “Heck ya!”, and he said “We’re about to have a lot more, we’re strike aircraft now.” I still had that in-flight emergency radio call in my mind and the injured pilot of the German jet.
Our aircraft banked and dove toward the convoy. We were talking with the British FAC commando as we swooped down over the top of the convoy just above the treetops. We didn’t make the noise the jets did but our aircraft was equipped with a smoke generator which was used to leave a smoke trail in the sky for the fighter-bombers to follow to a target. The system consisted of an oil tank, pump, tube that stuck into engine exhaust tailpipe, and a switch. On our next pass the major said, “We’ll dump smoke on them and make it a little more realistic for the ground troops.”
So, on our next pass as we buzzed down the convoy the major hit the smoke generator switch and white smoke dumped over the convoy and then settled. We made several attack runs and then banked sharply left or right which gave me a great view or the convoy. I was wondering if the troops on the ground were cursing us.
Then the major said something about giving them a little air show. He said, “We’re going to do a loop above them.” I was wondering how much more fun I could take?
With our aircraft diving and gaining airspeed we passed over the convoy again, but instead of banking left or right we climbed and climbed for altitude for our loop. Once on top with enough altitude our aircraft was upside down and the major pulled our aircraft down toward the convoy.
As we were inverted and diving down toward the convoy and ground I heard over the intercom a statement that sent chills throughout my body, “We have too much airspeed and not enough altitude to complete the loop!” At that second every hair on my body stood up at attention. My mind kicked into overdrive like a computer – “too fast, not enough altitude, equals crash! Ejection seat shoots you out and back away from the props – out and back when you are pointing at the ground equals out and up! Out and up is very, very good!”
So, at this point expecting we were in deep trouble and on our way to a gruesome ground impact, my mind wanted to survive, and was saying to me “Oh God, bail out, bail out, eject before it’s too late.” I grabbed the ejection ring with one hand and the other hand hit the intercom mic button and I said.
“EJECT, EJECT!” I bet at that very second every hair on the major’s body stood up also as he replied, “Don’t! Stay with it!”
We were still in the upper part of the loop, but headed down in that dive when the major flipped the aircraft right side up into what I believe pilots call a cubin-eight maneuver. At this point in our downward flight things looked a bit more improved, but all I could see was allot of green out in front of us, and a battle of the mind was going on in my head. My mind was saying to me, “Eject, Stay, Eject, Stay,” over and over and I still had my hand on the ejection d-ring.
At this point the aircraft banked a little to the right and as the pilot pulled back on the flight controls my buttocks sunk deep into the ejection seat cushion, my arms felt heavy, and my body sagged from the G-Forces. Our aircraft started to climb and gain altitude and I saw blue sky once again. We had come so close to a ground impact! The trees started to get smaller and I started to relax a little.
It was at this time I heard that British Commando call us over the radio and say, “Jolly good yank, bloody good show!” in his strong English accent.
We continued to fly over the convoy for another 15 or 20 minutes then we hit bingo fuel and we had to RTB (Return to Base).
This deployment had me away from home about 10 or 12 days. It was mixed with fun, excitement, and a little danger.
This story is one out of my book, I did a bit of editing. Those of you who have my book will notice two new sentences. If you do not know what an OV-10A Bronco is, I posted a photo below.
Read more:
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Post by pat perry on Aug 30, 2016 4:35:56 GMT 9
I have been looking up all the pictures of the clocks that Jim Gier, The Old Sarge, made over the years and found 204 pictures in my files.
I haven't found all of them yet in order to make a picture album page on the main website Photo album section. That's because many of them appear in posts that the recipients have made when they received them.
So I decided to do a search using the word clock. It pulled up 21 pages of posts that go way back in time and make some good reading.
Give it a try.
Pat P. |
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Post by oswald on Sept 10, 2016 22:53:52 GMT 9
Thanks "adart" Took my kids to lots of Airshows at Sembach AB and McChord AFB. My two sons didn't listen to Mom & Dad and got DUI's so the military would not take them. Our Daughter was a straight A student and no legal problems. I was surprised she enlisted out of high school and went into the USAF as a jet engine technician, like I was. She has done well and even did a stretch as a 1st Sgt after she made MSgt. No she works TA at RAF Mildenhall. Her husband is also MSgt and works at RAF Lakenheath. Now I take my son and my grandson's to a few airshows at McChord. |
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