The United States Air Force has long had a unique fighter pilots advanced training course, known as the Fighter Weapons School, located at Nellis Air Force Base adjacent to Las Vegas, Nevada. The three month curriculum was designed for elite fighter pilots selected from Air Force bases throughout the world. It was and is the Air Force equivalent of the U. S. Navy’s more widely know “Top Gun” school, but its history precedes that of the course for the top Navy pilots. This undoubtedly proves that the U. S. Navy has at least one edge over the Air Force, that being in the realm of public relations, given the publicity of their “Top Gun” endeavors.
Attendees at the Fighter Weapons School serve in tactical fighter squadrons having proven their flying capabilities to their peers. Selected to be exposed to the latest in fighter pilot techniques in aerial combat and in the delivery of a variety of conventional and nuclear weapons, these pilots graduate as fully qualified weapons instructors. At course completion the pilots return to their units and are positioned to disperse their newly gained methods and enhanced flight mechanics to their peers within the line flying squadrons.
In the spring of 1959 I was fortunate in being selected to attend this prestigious course as a First Lieutenant. Our class, designated 59-2, began training in April of 1959, and was comprised of eighteen Lieutenants, Captains, and Majors from tactical fighter bases from all corners of the globe, five coming from overseas locations. Since it had only been three years since my temporary grounding and written reprimand in 1956 for a flight infraction at Gila Bend in Arizona, while stationed at Luke AFB, I felt especially grateful for the opportunity to attend this course. I surmised that I had done something right in the intervening three years. Class 59-2 would fly the North American F-100D, the Super Sabre aircraft that I had been flying at Luke as gunnery instructor.
On April 21 I was the number three member of a three ship formation flying the F-100D single seat jet fighters with a planned training mission firing rockets, dropping bombs from medium altitude, and firing 20 millimeter cannons during low angle strafing on a gunnery range north of Indian Springs in the remote and desolate section of Nevada. This was early in the course and was only the second mission of many in the planned curriculum. The three ship flight take off and climb out was uneventful. However, just after I had effected the join up to the so called “fingertip” formation, where we assumed a close knit position en route to the gunnery complex, I observed a fire warning light illumination in my cockpit.
Among the myriad of instruments, control switches, circuit breakers, and other control functions in the cockpit of the Super Sabre were a bank of warning lights to the right side, but in the direct center was a master caution light that was the attention light to all others. To the right of that light were two other lights of major significance – a Fire Engine Compartment and below that Overheat Engine Burn lights, both with red illumination for further emphasis. Both lights were of high concern when illuminated for other than a testing of the circuit. The Overheat Engine Burn light, now illuminated along with the Master Caution light, indicated a problem somewhere in the aft section of the aircraft. Pressing the yellow Master Caution light would extinguish it, thereby making it available for other warnings.
At the onset of the red light illumination, I advised my flight leader of the situation and declared an emergency while making a turn to head back to home base. No other engine or aircraft problems were noted. I still had normal engine thrust d the opposite and equal reaction drives the aircraft forward with great speeds. These eight combustion chambers circle the aft section and are connected with a tubular ignition ring that keeps the fire burning continuously and allows for the constant forward reaction known as thrust. In my aircraft one of these combustion chambers, for an unknown reason, had shifted off center which caused the fuel and compressed air mixture to burn in an area where it should not be burning. This shift of the ignitor ring was enough to open a half dollar size hole which allowed the hot fuel and air laden mixture to burn outside of the controlled area. Hence, the Overheat Engine Burn light came on as it was designed to operate in my F-100D.
The tail skid in my aircraft did not extend simply due to the fact that the fire had burnt through the actuating line to the skid. Therefore, I did not have the protection of the tail skid for the high speed touchdown on my recovery. The tail skid does commonly make runway contact with the nose high attitude that is experienced when landing the Super Sabre.
In a later interview with me by the investigating officer I became aware that I possibly might be assessed pilot error due to the damaged afterburner section. I also became aware that my flight leader, a Major whose name I will not divulge, had made an untrue statement when he was interviewed following the accident. He stated he had advised me to “keep your speed up on final”. No such comment was ever made by my flight leader on this mission. He and his wing man had kept to my right side during the whole approach and were not in position to see the burnt spot on my left side. The untrue warning he supposedly issued was simply an endeavor to “cover his posterior” when he found that there had been minor damage to my aircraft on the touchdown. When I became aware of this, even though a lowly Lieutenant, I threatened to get access to the control tower’s tape recorded radio conversations which I knew would prove that a certain flight leader had not so stated that warning.
I did not receive a pilot error notation or any adverse reaction to this incident. Life went on and I completed the course and thoroughly enjoyed the exposure. The tabulation of the total scores in conventional gunnery and bombing, and the nuclear bombing scores revealed that my capabilities were not too shabby. Finishing at the top of the list for the conventional gunnery and bombing scores, and second in the nuclear category overall scores, I was awarded a prize of a His and Hers matching cigarette lighters. This was a sign of the times, I guess, but it was ironic in that neither my wife nor I had ever smoked. It was not the award that had any meaning to me – I had competed with the best and had preformed well and for that I was proud.
My pilot’s log book reflects a flight on April 21, 1959 at Nellis Air Force Base in Las Vegas, Nevada that totaled a mere ten minutes, the shortest aircraft flight of my Air Force career. It may have been brief, but I do remember it well.
Wings Over Cumberland 