Memories of the horn. (Read 2,291 times)

Nice! I was about ready to throw my feet over the side of the bed and jump into my boots fireman style like we used to at Castle.

This story is out of my book. I might have posted it before someplace, but it has to do with the alert klaxon. So it fits this thread.

Alert Red Ball Work Order

This had to be about 1975 at Griffiss AFB, NY.
416th Bomb Wing, SAC.

I was working the jet engine dispatch section, it had been a fairly quiet morning, and I’d finished removing and installing a new inlet duct on a KC-135 tanker engine.
So, I was looking forward to a little break just riding around in the maintenance truck.
About 10 minutes into my rest I heard the Klaxon horns sing out. We had us an EWO Alert Scramble! Was it real world or just an exercise?

We quickly positioned our truck inside the B-52 Bomber Alert Area to be close incase we were needed. Looking toward the alert force’s mole hole we could see all the crew’s and maintenance support people running and driving toward the Bombers and Tankers.
It wasn’t but a minute or two and the 1st B-52 Bomber started engines with explosive cartridge starts in #4 & #6 starters, which produced lots of smoke. Within seconds the other B-52 Bombers on alert started their engines.

I thought to myself, “All is going well.” Then the radio squawked that Alert B-52 number 4 could not get #1 engine to rotate. (Engine Shop Red Ball to Number Four B-52 was the radio order over the radio!)

So, off to the Bomber we went. I bailed out with my headset and toolbox. The crew chiefs were already opening the engine cowling. I hooked into the aircraft’s intercom so I could talk with the pilot.

“Oh Crap,” I could see that the first B-52 was already starting to taxi. I didn’t have much time to get this jet engine started. I figured it was likely a loose cannon plug on the starter control valve. I cut the safety wire off the cannon plug and checked for power, and there was electrical power. I reconnected the cannon plug and told the pilot to hit the starter button again, but nothing happened. I checked a few other things and discovered that the starter control valve actuator was just not working. The starter control valve was getting electrical power but just would not open for some reason. I figured, maybe it was stuck.

At this point I could see B-52 number 3 starting to roll out of its parking place.
It was time to pull a fast one. This was either nuke war, or an alert exercise. We were operating under the possibility of war so I reached into my toolbox and pulled out my ball-ping hammer and told the pilot to push and hold the starter button. I pulled back my arm and hand back with the hammer in it and the crew chiefs eyes got as big as golf balls. I swung the hammer and hit the starter control valve fairly lightly. Nothing happened!

The pilot said it was his time to taxi. I asked him to keep the starter button pushed in and I pulled my arm back and gave a good hard swing this time hitting the starter control valve again. This time we heard the whoooooooshing sound of air passing through the control vale and starter, and the #1 engine started to rotate.

I ducked back out of the way and the crew chiefs started to close and secure the engine cowling. At the correct RPM the pilot advanced the throttle adding fuel and the #1 engine was now operating normal.

I quickly looked around on the ground for any items dropped or left behind that might be sucked up into the jet engine creating a hazard or an aborted mission. At the same time I told the pilot, “You’re good to go, and good luck.” He thanked me and I disconnected from the intercom.

B-52 number 4 taxied out of its EWO alert spot right on time. I got the blast of hot jet engine exhaust fumes as the bomber made its turn. The adrenalin flows and the blood pressure rises during these EWO Alerts. As the hot jet engine blast blew over and around me, a sense of accomplishment and pride filled me.

My job was not over yet. I had to call maintenance control and put in a work order for a (red ball) follow-up to get that starter control valve replaced when the aircraft returned to its parking spot. Hoping all along that the alert force was going to taxi back in and not take-off.

The Bombers followed by the tankers hit the end of the runway and started their take-off rolls, but each one quickly reduced power and turned off the runway and headed back to their parking spots. It’s at that moment that everyone feels relief, blood pressures start to decrease, but your adrenalin is still with you. By the time the B-52 had gotten back to its parking spot base supply had a new starter control valve waiting.

My lunch would have to wait until I replaced that starter control valve. EWO aircraft were top priority and came before everything. After lunch I had to explain to my shop boss why I hit a nuke loaded aircraft with a big hammer. All I could say was, “It’s an old trick used as a last resort. It was my last resort to ensure that our total alert strike force would all be taxing on time.” He then said, “Nice job.”

While I was at The SCAB, we were strictly an ADC base.

Seeing it was also Sioux City Municipal Airport, now Bud Day, we didn't have any base-wide klaxons.

I spent a lot of time working the Alert Hanger.

We were a 24/48 facility, and had cots in a sleeping room, along with a great kitchen with our own cooks.

When the hanger klaxon went off, it was a typical scramble of crew chiefs opening doors, starting the start cart, strapping in the pilot and helping him start the J-47 in the Saber Dog.

When I got to The Goose, it was a SAC base, and the 59th FIS was a tenant.

We had F-89Js when I got there and later F-102s.

I worked the Alert Hanger most of my 15 moths on station.

We were a 24/24 facility and had our cooks in the ops building. They brought the food to us, but prepared it at ops.

The base had klaxons all over the place, as The Goose was a KC-97 base and the tankers were scrambled for refuels of SAC bombers, mostly B-47s, with some B-52s.

They did the Elephant Walk at least once a month.

For the 59th, we only had klaxons in the Alert Hanger and the squadron ops building.

I'm not sure, but I don't remember a day that didn't have at least one scramble of our Scorpions or Deuces.

Most of the scrambles were for commercial airliners that were off-course over the North Atlantic of the Greenland Ice Cap.

When I got to Minot, the 5th only had klaxons at the Alert Hanger and squadron ops.

But, as a SAC base, with B-52s and KC-135s, there were klaxons all over the base, including in the commissary and the PX.

There were also rotating, red lights on poles all-over the base.

When the klaxons went off, and the red lights started rotating, you better get out of the way, as you were going to get run over by an International 4-door pickup if you didn't.

The only thing that interfered with the SAC scrambles was if there was an ADC scramble.

Then the Sixes had runway priority.

Lots of memories of my days with klaxons blasting my ears.

Jim Too

:santahat

Gary, I have said this before but you can tell a great story!

I remember it from the first time but it was great to read it again.
Thanks,
Pat P.

Great story too Pastor Jim.

I always called the Klaxons the A&E horn because when they went off all you could see was "A-holes and Elbows" going in every direction.

I don't know why but at Castle they were always loudest in the Alert Barn. Enough to almost make your ears bleed. Of course the SAC alert pad was right next door to our alert barn and theirs was loud too.

I still, after 46 years, have the ear plugs I was issued and take them to the drag races with me. Glad I did or I would be deaf as a post today.

Pat P.

Like I mentioned, that kid was kind of slow. I had seen him at home station (Grand Forks) before, but never really worked with the guy because we were in different flights. For the trip to Ecuador they picked us all sort of randomly. I later suspected his flight wanted to get rid of him for awhile, but that's just a theory.

Once I started working with him, and discovered his "shortcomings", I tried to bring him up to speed as quickly as I could, but after a point it was like talking to a wall. There is only so many times I'll repeat myself especially when it came to stuff any 3-level gomer should know.

Anyway, we were doing a refuel one night, and since the only crew chiefs were the two of us a third person would always help out. (Fire guard usually.) This night the pro super was our "third" since it was very late when the aircraft returned, and we just wanted to get a ramp load in her, and worry about the rest of the stuff in the morning. The super let the rest of the guys go back to the barracks.

So, long story short, the reason I ripped him one was he left power on upstairs, and missed calling a shutoff point for one of the tanks. (Screws you up because depending on which tank it was you would have to add more fuel to balance them. We did.) I don't know how many times I had told him these things, and just went off on him. This was over the headset, so I didn't see him turn to tears. When it was all done I heard about it from the pro super who talked to him when we were buttoning up the aircraft. (It was a KC-135. You could have three or four folks working on the plane and not see any of them!) All of a sudden I look around, and the kid is gone. I asked the super about it, and that's when he told me he sent the kid to the hangar to calm down while he talked to me.

I was non-apologetic with the super, and he understood. He still gave me "the talk", and I told him I would do the same thing over if it happened again. It didn't, but I was serious.

When we got back to Grand Forks I never worked with the kid again, and besides I was off to Turkey for a short deployment, then off to FE school so I didn't have time anyway. (Pretty sure I lost some leave that year. Before the Ecuador deployment I was in Guam, Japan and Hawaii for over two weeks! They almost made me fly home commercial from Hawaii to make the Ecuador deployment. Another story!)

Hey wait? Maybe my flight was trying to get rid of me that year. Nah!

That's pretty much it. On a happier note that's us playing stickball in the hangar in Ecuador. I'm on third waiting to come home, and the pro super is pitching! The guy at bat was a specialist, and for the life of me I can't remember his name. He was a nice guy; I do remember that!

During my deployment with Project White Shoes after the Alaskan earthquake in 1964, I was sent to Eielsen AFB where we stood alert duty 48 on 24 off. During the first month the Russians would try to penetrate our ADS every night, usually about 2:00 AM. We got so used to the klaxon waking us up that we just started to get up and go down and get the birds warmed up, so all we had to do was strap the pilots in and kick them out of the barn when the horn went off. After they had chased them back to there side of the IDL we would recover the birds then hit the sack again. Things slowed down a bit after the ice broke on the Yukon river and we moved out to the Galina AFS, which put us about 400 miles from Russia and really cut down our intercept times.

Fun times :santahat

;D

lindel,,,,I was not at Griffiss when that plowshare-7 incident happened.
I've never heard anything about it till now. Must have been something the USAF wanted to keep quiet.