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Post by pat perry on Mar 23, 2015 21:13:48 GMT 9
A message from Bobski - Pat P.
All F106 Troops,
Bruce Gordon, Pilot Extraordinaire, wrote an outstanding description on flying the F106.
Bobski, Bailey Scheidel asked me about the F-104 and F-106, what it was like to fly the F-106, and what speeds we used on landing. I wrote this and it got to be such a story that maybe some others would enjoy it. I’ll put it on my “Spirit of Attack” Facebook page, too.
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OK, Bailey —
Yes, the F-106 was MUCH more complicated than the F-104.
The F-104 came out of the idea from the Korean war that the MiGs were lighter and much cheaper than our F-86. The public (and Congress) wanted a light, fast, cheap fighter in large numbers. The MiGs had bigger cannon than we did. The public didn’t like that our planes were heavier, and the pilots had (gasp!) hydraulically boosted flight controls and radar. We had backup systems.
The public did not note that our kill rate over MiG-15’s was almost 10 to 1, and they said our pilots were just better. No, the hydraulically boosted flight controls (and aerodynamics from the Bell X-1 tests) meant that the F-86 could maneuver close to the speed of sound — above .85 Mach — while the MiG-15’s flight controls, with only manual power, were almost “locked” by air loads. We had the range to fly from Japan to North Korea, while the MiGs were short-range and seldom left “MiG Alley” in the north. Our radar meant that our gunsight was much better than the manual gunsight of the MiG, and our .50 caliber bullets were faster than the MiGs big cannons, so we didn’t have to pull so much lead against a maneuvering target. So, we could hit them in conditions where they would miss us.
The Lockheed “Skunk Works” produced the F-104, the “missile with a man in it”. Clarence Johnson took the biggest engine available and put it into the smallest airframe that he could, and made the wings so thin that they had to put protective strips on the leading edges of wings while on the ground so that the maintenance crews would not cut themselves.
The F-104 had a small radar which was good for aiming the guns, but not good for finding targets at night in weather. It did not have many backup systems, so failure of one pump could cause loss of the airplane. I think it killed almost 15 pilots before it first went operational. The biggest problem was short range — the thin wings couldn’t carry any fuel, and if they carried drop tanks on the wings they couldn’t carry missiles. The F-104 wasn’t good for much except going fast!
The F-106, on the other hand, was built around a large radar and computer system, the MA-1 system. We planned to attack bombers, so sophisticated electronic counter-countermeasures (ECCM) were built into our radar, and we added infrared tracking later. We had backup systems, one of which saved my life once when I had electrical power at night in a snowstorm while near to the ground. Our big delta wings carried a lot of fuel, and we also carried big drop tanks which I have flown to nearly twice the speed of sound. Between the pilot’s legs was the Tactical Situation Display (TSD), which was a lighted electronic map which showed where we were over the ground and would also display where our target was. We had Data Link, so the ground computers could send us attack instructions secretly — while other fighters used voice control from the ground, which the enemy could listen in to (or jam) to avoid attacks.
The F-104 was built to fly in the daytime in clear weather, while the F-106 was built to fly at night in bad weather. We had excellent instrumentation for flying at night in bad weather. We added aerial refueling, so that in Korea we could patrol far away from our home base. All this meant that the pilot had to have lots of training.
How was the “six” to fly? When you first walk up to it, you realize that it’s a big airplane. I was awed by it, and wondered if I could ever master a beast like that. After a lot of training, it became a part of me — or, rather, I became a part of it. “It is my body, I am its brain”.
When I settled into the cockpit, put on my helmet and oxygen mask, I signaled the crew chief, pushed the throttle outboard, pressed a button on the throttle, and heard the rush of compressed air against the starter. I watched for movement on the tachometer — the RPM rose 2%, and I moved the throttle from “off” around a small detent, while holding the throttle button down. The throttle now allowed fuel to enter the burners, and the engine rumbled as the fires lit and RPM increased. I released the throttle button and turned my attention elsewhere.
Slowly, the airplane came alive. Hydraulic pressure flowed through its veins, the stick and flight controls moved, lights flashed on and off. I quickly went through a series of start-up steps — we had a checklist, but we seldom used it except for training — we had memorized the steps and went through them quickly. Run electrical checks and check backup systems. Get the radar and MA-1 computer on quickly, so the gyros can get up to speed. The radio cackles with instructions: “Red Flight, cleared to taxi runway 34”. Your wingman checks in on the radio, he’s ready to go. The crew chief pulls the chocks and, as you add power, he signals to go and then gives a smart salute as you pull out of the chocks. You return the salute and quickly taxi — if you’re in an Alert position, the taxi is very short. The radio says: “Red Flight, Vector 020, Buster Angels 35. Cleared for takeoff”.
You pull onto the runway and glance at your wingman, who is in position just off your left wing and slightly behind you. Wave your finger in a circle telling him to run up, Hold the brakes and apply 100% power. The plane vibrates with power — the brakes can barely hold. Check the instruments, glance back at your wingman. He nods, he’s ready. Look forward, pull your head back, then drop your head forward as a signal to release brakes. Push the throttle outboard and the afterburner lights, increasing your thrust about 50%. You race down the runway, and about 90 knots ease back on the stick and assume a takeoff angle. You’re off the ground, raise the landing gear. As you reach 250 knots, pull the throttle inboard and shut off the afterburner (it uses too much fuel). Turn to your climb vector and switch radio channels to get the tactical controller. You don’t worry about your wingman now — his job is to stay in position and not say anything unless he has a problem. Most of your signals to him are with various wing-wags.
To give you an idea of time: From pushing the starter button on the throttle to being airborne is less than two minutes! This whole thing is awe-inspiring at night, especially when it’s snowing, the roar of the engine and the rotating aircraft lights and the glow of lights in the cockpit are joined by the flicker of flames from your afterburner….
An attack is another story, for another day.
Landing speeds — as I remember, a daylight, overhead approach went like this:
We entered the traffic pattern at 350 knots and 1,500 feet above the ground. We turned onto “initial”, in the direction of the runway. When over the approach end of the runway, “break” a tight turn (usually left) while coming back on the throttle to 80%. Make a 180 degree turn, holding your altitude, roll out. Your speed is now below 250 knots, so drop your landing gear. Look left at the runway and, at the right spot, start a left descending turn, keeping airspeed about 140 knots. Roll out on final approach at about 120 knots. Check the green lights that your landing gear is down and locked. Over the runway threshold about 95 knots. Hold the plane off the runway, and deploy the drag chute (deploying the drag chute before touchdown drives the safety people crazy, but they don’t know how to fly the airplane). Touch down about 85 knots just as the drag chute snaps open and you feel it tug you back. Hold the nose off, high, to get aerodynamic braking, then gently lower the nose wheel to the runway. You’re still going fast. Press a button to engage nose wheel steering while pushing your feet on the brakes. As you slow down, turn off the runway, then turn sharply, add some power, push in the drag chute handle, and jettison your drag chute, blowing it safely off the taxiway. You are home.
Bruce
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edit Pat P.: Bobski-great article by Bruce-placed me back in the cockpit, which is such a great feeling at age 82! However, speeds stated for final approach and landing pattern are low, I believe. Remember those days when we frequently pulled the drag chute (all too frequently) in the overrun as we might have been heavy, short runway etc...and the 6 fairly smoked down final? Speed was close to 180kts, if at optimum weight, but heavy would be around 200kts. Normal touchdown speed was about 150++kts. Remember Galena (AK)? Short runway, gay at one end (I seem to recall) and perhaps no barrier, required enough fuel to divert to Elmendorf. Recall being stuffed in the cockpit in "Poopy Suit), at night, enough gas for one try and then divert if necessary. Those final approaches were about 200kts, I believe...
What a wonderful machine!
In any case, thanks to Bruce for a great remembrance and many details I could not begin to remember...
My best to all-have a great reunion,
Bill Gawler, 48FIS/mid 60`s
billgawler at aol dot com ________________________________________ EDIT by Pat P. from Bruce Gordon
I downloaded the F-106 flight manual, and yes, my story had the wrong airspeeds for the traffic pattern.
I have edited the story on Facebook / Spirit of Attack to put in the correct numbers.
Now that I review the real numbers, I think we flew our traffic pattern at 300 knots. On one occasion, we were having an ORI and a major part of the ORI was the number of sorties we could generate. It was a night mission with little other traffic in the area at Selfridge (north of Detroit). We were required to fly under instrument conditions (IFR) all the way, with radar traffic patterns and radar (GCA) approaches. The Squadron Commander decided that we needed to get the planes back on the ground ASAP for turnaround. So, instead of flying our instrument approach at the usual 250 knots, we flew them at 350 knots. It worked quite well, as we were all flying the same speeds, and we really had to come back on the power as we turned base leg to get the speed below landing gear speed and slowing down enough to get down on the runway. On my second mission, I was whistling on downwind under radar control and the controller said they had a C-130 in the pattern ahead of me. I was overtaking rapidly and could I please slow by 10 knots? The controller had no idea how fast we were going — I slowed by 100 knots instead of 10 knots!
After landing, I phoned the controller to explain what had happened. He said that nobody had told them that the F-106s were going to be flying patterns at 350 knots, instead of 225. He saw that we were “zipping around the pattern awfully fast”, but didn’t know why. I don’t think anyone told the ORI inspectors what was going on. We flew a lot of sorties and passed the ORI with flying colors!
I have also ordered flight manuals on the F-100, F-102, F-4, and F-104 so I will have some real data when future questions come up.
Bruce
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