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- Thread starter Fly Navy
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Lonestar155 said:
No you weren't .... as Brett would say --- let's try to keep it real, boys and girls. I put this over here to try to provide some "real" information to the juniors and unwashed masses --- not provide yet another thread for launching nonsense such as the above post.
Here's the deal: computer games and fantasty ACM don't count .... yes ??? Otherwise ... back to the "private" thread .....
Hmmmmmm ...... :icon_rast ... you may have something there, Squeeze. It sure didn't take long to flush 'em out of the woodwork. I guess I'm just a cockeyed optimist .... that's often been said about me.
Sims vs the real deal
Well, you'd probably make a great UAV pilot then as they sit in a 1G environment as you did at age of 15 and everytime you sit at your computer. Falcon and other high fidelity sims serve a purpose, but they are decidedly not the real thing nor is flying a bugsmasher unless it can pull 6Gs (sustained)....
Are you ready for this?.....because your brain has to work and body has to respond to said brain in this environment:
Written by: Rick Reilly, Sports Illustrated
Now this message is for America's most famous athletes: Someday you may be invited to fly in the backseat of one of your country's most powerful fighter jets. Many of you already have -- John Elway, John Stockton, Tiger Woods to name a few. If you get this opportunity, let me urge you, with the greatest sincerity....
Move to Guam. Change your name. Fake your own death. Whatever you do, do not go. I know. The U.S. Navy invited me to try it. I was thrilled. I was pumped. I was toast!
I should've known when they told me my pilot would be Chip (Biff) King of Fighter Squadron 213 at Naval Air Station Oceana in Virginia Beach. Whatever you're thinking a Top Gun named Chip (Biff) King looks like, triple it. He's about six-foot, tan, ice-blue eyes, wavy surfer hair, finger-crippling handshake -- the kind of man who wrestles dyspeptic alligators in his leisure time. If you see this man, run the other way. Fast.
Biff King was born to fly. His father, Jack King, was for years the voice of NASA missions. ("T-minus 15 seconds and counting...." Remember?) Chip would charge neighborhood kids a quarter each to hear his dad. Jack would wake up from naps surrounded by nine-year-olds waiting for him to say, "We have a liftoff."
Biff was to fly me in an F-14D Tomcat, a ridiculously powerful $60 million weapon with nearly as much thrust as weight, not unlike Colin Montgomerie. I was worried about getting airsick, so the night before the flight I asked Biff if there was something I should eat the next morning.
"Bananas," he said.
"For the potassium?" I asked.
"No," Biff said, "because they taste about the same coming up as they do going down."
The next morning, out on the tarmac, I had on my flight suit with my name sewn over the left breast. (No call sign -- like Crash or Sticky or Leadfoot -- but, still, very cool.) I carried my helmet in the crook of my arm, as Biff had instructed. If ever in my life I had a chance to nail Nicole Kidman, that was it.
A fighter pilot named Psycho gave me a safety briefing and then fastened me into my ejection seat, which, when employed, would "egress" me out of the plane at such a velocity that I would be immediately knocked unconscious.
Just as I was thinking about aborting the flight, the canopy closed over me, and Biff gave the ground crew a thumbs-up. In minutes we were firing nose up at 600 mph. We leveled out and then canopy-rolled over another F-14. Those 20 minutes were the rush of my life. Unfortunately, the ride lasted 80.
It was like being on the roller coaster at Six Flags Over Hell. Only without rails. We did barrel rolls, sap rolls, loops, yanks and banks. We dived, rose and dived again, sometimes with a vertical velocity of 10,000 feet per minute. We chased another F-14, and it chased us. We broke the speed of sound. Sea was sky and sky was sea. Flying at 200 feet we did 90-degree turns at 550 mph, creating a G force of 6.5, which is to say I felt as if 6.5 times my body weight was smashing against me, thereby approximating life as Mrs. Colin Montgomerie.
And I egressed the bananas. I egressed the pizza from the night before. And the lunch before that. I egressed a box of Milk Duds from the sixth grade. I made Linda Blair look polite. Because of the G's, I was egressing stuff that did not even want to be egressed. I went through not one airsick bag, but two. Biff said I passed out. Twice.
I was coated in sweat. At one point, as we were coming in upside down in a banked curve on a mock bombing target and the G's were flattening me like a tortilla and I was in and out of consciousness, I realized I was the first person in history to throw down.
I used to know cool. Cool was Elway throwing a touchdown pass, or Norman making a five-iron bite. But now I really know cool. Cool is guys like Biff, men with cast-iron stomachs and Freon nerves. I wouldn't go up there again for Derek Jeter's black book, but I'm glad Biff does every day, and for less a year than a rookie reliever makes in a home stand.
A week later, when the spins finally stopped, Biff called. He said he and the fighters had the perfect call sign for me. Said he'd send it on a patch for my flight suit.
What is it? I asked.
"Two Bags."
Lonestar155 said:
Well, you'd probably make a great UAV pilot then as they sit in a 1G environment as you did at age of 15 and everytime you sit at your computer. Falcon and other high fidelity sims serve a purpose, but they are decidedly not the real thing nor is flying a bugsmasher unless it can pull 6Gs (sustained)....
Are you ready for this?.....because your brain has to work and body has to respond to said brain in this environment:
Written by: Rick Reilly, Sports Illustrated
Now this message is for America's most famous athletes: Someday you may be invited to fly in the backseat of one of your country's most powerful fighter jets. Many of you already have -- John Elway, John Stockton, Tiger Woods to name a few. If you get this opportunity, let me urge you, with the greatest sincerity....
Move to Guam. Change your name. Fake your own death. Whatever you do, do not go. I know. The U.S. Navy invited me to try it. I was thrilled. I was pumped. I was toast!
I should've known when they told me my pilot would be Chip (Biff) King of Fighter Squadron 213 at Naval Air Station Oceana in Virginia Beach. Whatever you're thinking a Top Gun named Chip (Biff) King looks like, triple it. He's about six-foot, tan, ice-blue eyes, wavy surfer hair, finger-crippling handshake -- the kind of man who wrestles dyspeptic alligators in his leisure time. If you see this man, run the other way. Fast.
Biff King was born to fly. His father, Jack King, was for years the voice of NASA missions. ("T-minus 15 seconds and counting...." Remember?) Chip would charge neighborhood kids a quarter each to hear his dad. Jack would wake up from naps surrounded by nine-year-olds waiting for him to say, "We have a liftoff."
Biff was to fly me in an F-14D Tomcat, a ridiculously powerful $60 million weapon with nearly as much thrust as weight, not unlike Colin Montgomerie. I was worried about getting airsick, so the night before the flight I asked Biff if there was something I should eat the next morning.
"Bananas," he said.
"For the potassium?" I asked.
"No," Biff said, "because they taste about the same coming up as they do going down."
The next morning, out on the tarmac, I had on my flight suit with my name sewn over the left breast. (No call sign -- like Crash or Sticky or Leadfoot -- but, still, very cool.) I carried my helmet in the crook of my arm, as Biff had instructed. If ever in my life I had a chance to nail Nicole Kidman, that was it.
A fighter pilot named Psycho gave me a safety briefing and then fastened me into my ejection seat, which, when employed, would "egress" me out of the plane at such a velocity that I would be immediately knocked unconscious.
Just as I was thinking about aborting the flight, the canopy closed over me, and Biff gave the ground crew a thumbs-up. In minutes we were firing nose up at 600 mph. We leveled out and then canopy-rolled over another F-14. Those 20 minutes were the rush of my life. Unfortunately, the ride lasted 80.
It was like being on the roller coaster at Six Flags Over Hell. Only without rails. We did barrel rolls, sap rolls, loops, yanks and banks. We dived, rose and dived again, sometimes with a vertical velocity of 10,000 feet per minute. We chased another F-14, and it chased us. We broke the speed of sound. Sea was sky and sky was sea. Flying at 200 feet we did 90-degree turns at 550 mph, creating a G force of 6.5, which is to say I felt as if 6.5 times my body weight was smashing against me, thereby approximating life as Mrs. Colin Montgomerie.
And I egressed the bananas. I egressed the pizza from the night before. And the lunch before that. I egressed a box of Milk Duds from the sixth grade. I made Linda Blair look polite. Because of the G's, I was egressing stuff that did not even want to be egressed. I went through not one airsick bag, but two. Biff said I passed out. Twice.
I was coated in sweat. At one point, as we were coming in upside down in a banked curve on a mock bombing target and the G's were flattening me like a tortilla and I was in and out of consciousness, I realized I was the first person in history to throw down.
I used to know cool. Cool was Elway throwing a touchdown pass, or Norman making a five-iron bite. But now I really know cool. Cool is guys like Biff, men with cast-iron stomachs and Freon nerves. I wouldn't go up there again for Derek Jeter's black book, but I'm glad Biff does every day, and for less a year than a rookie reliever makes in a home stand.
A week later, when the spins finally stopped, Biff called. He said he and the fighters had the perfect call sign for me. Said he'd send it on a patch for my flight suit.
What is it? I asked.
"Two Bags."
B
Blutonski816
Guest
Wow...
good stuff....
I know what I'll be reading at lunch tomorrow....
good stuff....
I know what I'll be reading at lunch tomorrow....
heyjoe said:
That pilot's name is Bruce Bole he was my neighbor when my father was stationed at USNA and later my CO at NAPS. It is pretty funny to hear him tell the story. Within hours of landing he was told he was going to captains mast, and then that he was being put in for an air medal. They actually found small arms rounds in the underside of his jet. Great guy.
Living Legend
That would be him all right. He showed up in our fighter admin in Sri Lanka in 83 and asked to join it because his S-3 buddies said he was too wild (he was leaving because he thought they were too timid). He fit right in and we made him an honorary Diamondback. Whenever we did Indian Country, he'd be raging around in his S-3 chasing the A-7s all over the place. There are rumors he did Star Wars canyon in Oman in his S-3. During Desert Storm, I was in the Red Sea with VF-32 on Kennedy and when our spy mentioned the S-3 taking out a boat with a drop tank, another Diamondback Alum and I looked at each other and said "only one guy would attempt that...Bruce Bole!" The Tomcat community has Joe Satrapa....the S-3 community had Bruce
xmid said:
That would be him all right. He showed up in our fighter admin in Sri Lanka in 83 and asked to join it because his S-3 buddies said he was too wild (he was leaving because he thought they were too timid). He fit right in and we made him an honorary Diamondback. Whenever we did Indian Country, he'd be raging around in his S-3 chasing the A-7s all over the place. There are rumors he did Star Wars canyon in Oman in his S-3. During Desert Storm, I was in the Red Sea with VF-32 on Kennedy and when our spy mentioned the S-3 taking out a boat with a drop tank, another Diamondback Alum and I looked at each other and said "only one guy would attempt that...Bruce Bole!" The Tomcat community has Joe Satrapa....the S-3 community had Bruce
Catmando said:
I flew with a pilot who used to fight the F-14 down to 0 knots. Actually would intentionally depart the aircraft with the knowledge it would depart in the direction he needed it to go. Then recover with a bunt and re-engage. Bogeys hated it as they figured they had the jet in their sights and it didn't happen. I flew one of these 1v1 ACM hops against a slick F/A-18 with him in an F-14D. What a fight. Definitely not something I'd teach an FRS student.
Pilot was a former Army Loach pilot from vietnam days, flew A-4s for the Blue Angels and really knew how to handle the jet. Callsign was "Pogo" for the old guys. He was also a scratch golfer. Heck of a guy.
Pogo
That would be Randy Clark who was quite a stick as you attest...last seen he was flying exIsraeli A-4s out of Arizona with ATSI. He was a Tailhook witch hunt hero. When they interviewed him and tried to make him sit at a table with two chairs on either side of him to bracket him, he picked up the chair and put the "bogies" on one side of his nose (like any good fighter pilot) turning the tables and making them uncomfortable. One of them said "you can't do that". He gave them a stone cold answer "I just did." Like the Indian in "The Outlaw Josey Wales" said to Clint Eastwood, "There is iron in your words...."
I believe he had been shot down more than once in Viet Nam and had a chest full of salad before he went through Tomcat RAG. Mucho respect for Pogo.
Schnugg said:
That would be Randy Clark who was quite a stick as you attest...last seen he was flying exIsraeli A-4s out of Arizona with ATSI. He was a Tailhook witch hunt hero. When they interviewed him and tried to make him sit at a table with two chairs on either side of him to bracket him, he picked up the chair and put the "bogies" on one side of his nose (like any good fighter pilot) turning the tables and making them uncomfortable. One of them said "you can't do that". He gave them a stone cold answer "I just did." Like the Indian in "The Outlaw Josey Wales" said to Clint Eastwood, "There is iron in your words...."
I believe he had been shot down more than once in Viet Nam and had a chest full of salad before he went through Tomcat RAG. Mucho respect for Pogo.
heyjoe said:
Yes, one and the same. He had VF-31 and worked the F-14D Fleet Introduction. He was my boss at COMFITAEWINGPAC in the early 90s. Damn near killed himself one day, popping aspirin like candy, goes off to plays golf, feels really lousy so they take him to Balbo ER.
He's sitting there for over an hour with no one really caring a hoot as he is not visibly dying. He hooks up a bucket of blood from his stomach all over the Er floor. Got some attention damn fast at that point for his bleeding ulcer.
Ahh yes, the stories he'd tell. Some of the best were his Nam evasion stories.
In an A-4:
http://www.skyhawk.org/5E/G159515/html/159536b.htm
In his blue bag:
http://www.blueangels.org/Years/1982/Year1982.html
B
Blutonski816
Guest
heyjoe said:
I've of Joe Satrapa (and his reputation)... not too much though....
Anyone got any good stories to relate here??
*If you cant already tell, I've been devouring what's been posted in this thread
*
Again, all good stuff. But there is something else to mull over. What follows isn't "doctine" ... and nobody spelled it out for us or printed out a list of rules for me and my mates to read and heed ... as we didn't have that luxury back-in-the-day .
But based on retrospect --- and remember ... while these rules (above) are all good --- most of them apply largely (?) to .... TRAINING !!! TRAINING !!! Do it by the numbers when in TRAINING. But sometimes, even in training --- you will have to violate some of these rules. Why??? To WIN, of course.
For example: in all of the RED FLAGS I've participated in, after all the briefs are complete, after all the lip service has been paid to safety, you will go out and do whatever you have to do to get it done. To "shoot the bad guys" , and win. Reg Flag was the closest to combat of any non-combat flying I've seen, but sometimes we broke the rules ..... to prevail. (Anyone please feel free to correct me and/or amplify on this ..... no problem-O). A lot of the things mentioned previously falls into the categories of "good gouge", learning "techniques"; doctrinal SOP, or "good tactics and preparation". And that's vital. Heeding them might just keep you alive. You have to start someplace and some basic things are constants.
But on any given day --- you can distill most "rules" down to three basics. These are the rules that count in combat:
1. Learn how to live to fly another day ... there's no points given for "dying like a man". Unless, of course, you have to ...
2. Always shoot the bad guys. Kill (all) the bad guys if you can ... NO QUARTER GIVEN -EVER.
3. Learn how to run away like a man --- if the situation dictates --- to live to fight another day ....
There's no points for second place. You've heard that before. It's trite and hacky, but always true ...
Ok, coming in late to this due to some really busy weeks and poor connectivity on the lovely USS boat (damn whistles)
As far as the Helo vs Jet there are many instances where it could happen and many where it just wont. The bottom line is the jet will out climb and out acclerate no matter what it is, the helo will out turn any jet int he sky.
Yes the Zulu will have the JCHMS but it needs an NVG capability that rihgt now is proving elusive so if I cant have it at night when the big boys go play then I dont want the crutch during the day.
It takes a very different approach for a fast mover to fight Helos. The Snipers in Yuma are very good becasue they do it all the time. The Hornet and Harrier guys less so. Some of the training rules set it up to be a fight that may or may not happen in reality. A section of Cobras working well together can hold its own against a pair of fast movers, sidewinder helps a lot.
The Iranians are arguably the best air to ari helo pilots in the world based on stats. Tehy even took down a couple of Iraqi MIG-25 (try showing your face in the club after that one as that Foxbat pilot)
A-10s are a challenge in that they do well down low but they are big enough to get a tally fairly easily. Harriers are a chalenge because they are so damn hard ot see (both FAC(A) and DACM)
I can only talk about this for so long since our beloved Corps has given me a date for a lobatamy soon.
As far as the Helo vs Jet there are many instances where it could happen and many where it just wont. The bottom line is the jet will out climb and out acclerate no matter what it is, the helo will out turn any jet int he sky.
Yes the Zulu will have the JCHMS but it needs an NVG capability that rihgt now is proving elusive so if I cant have it at night when the big boys go play then I dont want the crutch during the day.
It takes a very different approach for a fast mover to fight Helos. The Snipers in Yuma are very good becasue they do it all the time. The Hornet and Harrier guys less so. Some of the training rules set it up to be a fight that may or may not happen in reality. A section of Cobras working well together can hold its own against a pair of fast movers, sidewinder helps a lot.
The Iranians are arguably the best air to ari helo pilots in the world based on stats. Tehy even took down a couple of Iraqi MIG-25 (try showing your face in the club after that one as that Foxbat pilot)
A-10s are a challenge in that they do well down low but they are big enough to get a tally fairly easily. Harriers are a chalenge because they are so damn hard ot see (both FAC(A) and DACM)
I can only talk about this for so long since our beloved Corps has given me a date for a lobatamy soon.