How did I get here?

 

The Main Inquiry

A Story of Intrigue

Set on one of America’s Super Aircraft Carriers

 

 

Jim Main has a problem. He must solve it or die.

 

See what happens when bad players arrive on the proudest ship in the fleet.

A Novel by Brian Deis

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cast of Characters

 

Lieutenant Commander Jim Main USS Independence - 33 years old - Call sign “Panther”- Second in command of the wing.

Commander Chris Lastrino - USS Independence- 36 years old - Call sign “Commando” Commanding officer of the air wing. Great pilot. Good friend of Jim Main

Lieutenant Don Coswell - USS Independence - 24 years old - Call sign “Joker”- Plane commander with many missions. Wingman for Main.

Lieutenant Commander Ben Bentley - USS Independence - 30 years old - Call Sign - “Bravo Bravo”- Was JAG for three years and then converted to line pilot.

Lieutenant Commander Len Appleton - USS Independence - 25 years old - Call sign “Rocket”- Naval Academy guy that is serious about his work.

Corporal Fergisson - USS Independence - 25 years old, Marine from a small town in Alabama – very loyal and protective.

Senior Chief Buddy Landsome - USS Independence - 34 years old - He has 65 mechanics working for him and he is hard all the way through. He speaks to everyone as if they are 4 years old, deaf, and senile.

Commander Russel Helmsley - USS Independence - 35 years old - He is the best ship driver in the fleet and has a quiet competence about him that makes everyone do their job a little better.

LT Bruce Shoemaker - USS Independence - 31 years old - Call sign “Jet Man”- Decent flyer that just wants to fly.

Commander Bill Glinter - USS Independence - 33 years old - Senior Supply Officer for the ship. 300 people working for him. Controls all the items on the ship from repair parts to food.

Lieutenant Brian Firestarter - USS Independence - RIO for many pilots. He has experience and flies with anyone that needs the back seat filled. Just wants to fly.

Lieutenant Don O’Conor - Ops officer on USS Lendon DD-855. He is a fine teacher and an outstanding Operations Officer who taught me all about the ship and my job.

Captain Frank Diamond – CO, USS Oliver Perry - Main worked for him as OPS on the Oliver Perry - great relationship with him.

Lieutenant John Ward - USS Independence - Supply officer for the wing. Young LT that is not yet fully competent to do all jobs in the system. Loves those camo shirts and sneakers.

Lieutenant Len Toner - USS Independence - pilot in the wing - Call sign ‘Spinster.”

Lieutenant Pete Keys - USS Independence - RIO lots of experience – call sign “Demon”

Petty Officer Zack Denton - USS Independence - Gold team maintenance mechanic. Worked in the hangar bay.

Lieutenant Rob Renfrow - USS Independence - Rio for Joker - Call sign “Slider”

Lieuenant Commander Russ Karman - USS Independence - Line officer assigned to operations department.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

How Did I Get Here?

The high wind made it hard to walk on the catwalk alongside the flight deck, and my armload of classified files raised the risk that I would not make it to the hatch a few yards in front of me. I imagined the papers flying away and blowing down the middle of the runway, showing off their “Top Secret” stamps for all to see. Everyone has these visions, but this one nearly came true, as the wind tore at the file folders under one arm and the cup of coffee in my hand.

The huge aircraft carrier, USS Independence, was making ready for flight operations. The crew knew to avoid the flight deck level during flight ops, but I was taking a short cut to the bridge. I had just finished a long conversation with my maintenance chief, Buddy Landsome. We were talking about the problems with the airplanes that were scheduled to fly that day. The chief’s colorful manner and the extent of the problems we were facing were the cause of my running close to relieve the bridge watch. The air missions supported fighting on the ground. To keep our people out of harm’s way, we had to have our fighter planes in position timed to the second.

I made it to the hatch that led out of the wind and into one of the 15,000 passageways that went to all destinations on the floating city where I served. The ship was 23 days into a 6-month deployment, and everyone had worked out the kinks in the daily routine of the ship. She was an experienced ship with a stable crew that always got the job done. The aircraft carrier was the ultimate display of the power of the leaders of the free world. They were one of the advantages we had in the cold war. The threat of war with the Soviet Union was at the center of the culture. We were fighting a shooting war in Viet Nam and a cold war that had tensions as high, back home, as anyone had ever seen them.

I was one of the many pilots who flew fighters. Today, it was my day to be on the bridge of the giant ship. The airplanes were a different organization from the ship. During the six months the ship was defending Yankee station off the coast of Viet Nam, the flight organization (called the wing) could be changed twice. The ship was our airport and the ship’s crew supplied services to the wing. There wasn’t much interaction between the two organizations, as the work was so different.

I rode the elevator up to the bridge. As the doors opened, I stood 12 stories off the water, on the largest navigation bridge in the world.

“Good evening, Mr. Main.” said the quartermaster of the watch. “Are you the Air Boss for these flight ops?

“Hi, Chief. I do have this watch and there will be some problems to face with the planes.” I said

The bridge was the main place where the two groups worked together. It was huge, with more people at work than a normal airport lobby. The confusion level on the bridge was usually very high, along with the volume of countless voices at work. Once the ship began flight operations, everything increased several notches. Handling planes was what this record-breaking ship was designed and built to do, so it was taken very seriously by the crew. The work we did was the first line of defense in peacetime, and the lead offensive weapon in times of war. It was 1969 and lives depended on the ability to put the planes in the air on time, with the proper weapons, and enough gas to get back home. The constant presence of an aircraft carrier on Yankee station was a key part of the war plan. It was also used to communicate the war message to the people back home. There were nightly reports on the progress of the war. The awareness of the regular American was at an all-time high but support was not. There was an energetic national debate about the future, which was the center issue for nearly everyone. Even the music of the day expressed the conflict and concerns of the people. The number one song was “The Eve of Destruction”

The planes ran a wide variety of missions, which was what we did as military pilots. The nature of flying to and from a ship had many selling points to the strategic planners. Those of us who flew the missions were entrusted with the lives of countless people on the ground. We did our best to live up to that responsibility every day.

I stepped off the elevator and into the bedlam of the bridge. There was a constant motion to the bridge, which was born from the actual motion of the ship, and the necessary motion of most of the people working there. It was an intimidating atmosphere that most pilots would avoid at all costs. It required dealing with the ship’s crew, who knew little about flying these fighters. The crew spoke a language that we aviators did not understand. This language barrier usually built resentment and created some serious problems when the pressure was high on the flight deck. Since these tense feelings were sure to happen every time the flight ops were run, there was a tension on the bridge that had caused people to freeze, panic, throw up on their shipmates, answer questions in other languages, and many other unpredictable reactions. As imaginable, the behavior of the people was dependent on their training level, and the time in the job. This day was still calm, as the flying had not started, but most of the preparations were done. The ship’s people were concerned with the ship’s operation and position relative to Yankee Station. The ship’s officers maneuvered the ship and stayed within 4 nautical miles of the station point. The point changed every few hours, so keeping track was the full-time job of one of the ship’s officers on watch.

As if the operation of the ship was not enough, the carrier held the center of the formation of more than 30 support ships, used when the ship was traveling from one place to another. Each ship in the formation had a station in relation to the carrier and they were all checked at regular intervals. If the carrier needed to maneuver quickly, the support ships needed to be in the proper position or there would be a nasty collision. The admiral’s staff took a very dim view of a collision inside our own formation, so there was an obvious focus to be sure everyone was in position all the time.

I was not part of all these concerns. Instead, I had the job of getting everyone on the bridge to focus on the planes and the personnel who operated the support equipment. The senior watch officer (SWO) was the leader of the ship’s people on the bridge and his authority was absolute. Even the captain of the ship couldn’t countermand one of his orders. If the captain wished to change an order given by the SWO, the CO would have to convince him to change his order or relieve him of the watch and take over himself. These rules added to the confusion during exciting times.

On the aviation side, there was also a senior officer on watch and that position was called the air boss. The air boss had authority similar to the SWO over all things regarding the wing and the planes. It was that job that I was about to take for the current round of airplane flying. My 12 years in the Navy and my rank of lieutenant commander (LCDR) put me in a senior role among the pilots even though I did not have nearly that time in the aviation side of the business. At 33 years old, I was hoping for the next position to be wing commander, as I was already doing most of the jobs without the title. It was early in the wing deployment of six months, so that was an easy time for me and my wife. Other assignments had taken six months, and some were a year without any personal contact with home. It was during one of those deployments that our daughter was born. Family is hard to maintain while flying, and we were doing pretty well managing this part of our marriage. After the flying days were over, I promised my wife that we would see each other every day and I would have a job that never made her nervous.

I looked for my counterpart on the bridge and, though I could not see him, his voice was clear over the din. There were pronouncements being made regarding the behavior of the President of the United States, and what Congress ought to be doing about it. The voice and the topic being discussed were sure indicators that Bentley was over on the bridge wing with some lieutenant holding court on the state of the country. He was a fine pilot and a friend of mine, who spent a few years in the JAG corps and held a degree from George Washington Law School. His focus on things political was absolute, except when there was flying to do. He fell in love with the jets while defending a pilot in a court martial. He made his way through all the training and was now one of the senior officers in the wing. Though his mother named him Ben Bentley, he was known only as “Bentley,” or the “lieutenant commander.“

“Hi, Bentley,” I said as I approached him. I was trying not to get into the conversation about President Nixon and the things that “must be done in the first year.” My next year included none of the things that Bentley thought were at the center of the universe. I gave him a perfect Navy salute and stated that I was ready to relieve him as air boss.

“Very well,” he said, as he returned the salute. “I’m ready to be relieved. Cutting it sort of close aren’t you, Main?” Everyone in the air group had a call sign used on the radio. Mine was Panther, because I got a little aggressive at times. The call sign was assigned by the other pilots, and I had no input at all. When not on the radio, everyone was called by their last name. The Navy is just full of odd traditions and this is one of the oldest.

I explained that the chief had several problems that he wanted me to solve before I “went up to play with them college boys.”

Bentley responded, saying, “Yeah, he is a pain in the ass sometimes, but you are lucky to have him. I think he is the best crew chief in the Navy.” With that, Bentley launched into the checklist of things that had to be discussed before turning the watch over to me. This process took about 30 minutes and covered the status of the ship, as well as the readiness of the wing to fly the mission.

In just a few minutes, a second salute delivered the responsibility of the flight ops to me. There was one officer on the bridge representing the wing whenever flight ops were scheduled. My job was to be sure all the things regarding the planes and pilots were done with precision and the highest level of safety. The air boss job rotated among all the senior pilots in the wing. That meant that several times a month, I would get to spend parts of 24 hours on the bridge defending the wing. I was responsible for the people, planes and the mission of the day. This was a day that I did not get to fly and did not get to rest for the next day’s busy schedule of at least three flights. I had to be alert to all the details of flying. Most of the pilots hated the day they had to be air boss. I was one of the few who liked the job and was completely at ease on the bridge. I was the exception, due to some prior practice.

The ship was increasing speed to prepare for launch of the 12 planes needed to do the first mission of the night. I was running my check sheet for preparations to launch when the communications tech handed me a phone and said, “It’s your chief, Sir. He wants a piece of you right now!”

I thanked him for the warning and used my best happy tone to say hello and ask what I could do to make his day perfect.

“You know I hate that happy shit you have, Sir,” said the chief in a tone that would remove paint from the bulkhead. “I want to know what you’re going to do about all these useless goddamn planes that are all over my hangar bay!”

I answered by saying that I had a great idea that we might just fly the things like we stole them. “Go ahead with that officer bullshit, and when you’re done, how about telling me what part of your body you would like me to shove these planes in?”

“Oh chief,” I said, “it’s always good to talk to you. So how about you tell me what the hell you want me to do?” He explained that the orders were to keep the planes on the hangar deck and to feed the planes up the elevator one at a time. The hangar deck was one level below the massive flight deck that served as the runway for the planes. I knew that came from Bentley, because he loved the flight deck to look neat and well-organized.

The problem was that we would be launching the planes in very fast order, so that we could turn out of the wind and slow back down as soon as possible. It is very dangerous to have the monster ship going fast and the wind over the deck at nearly 100 mh. If we lined up all the planes on the upper deck at the same time, we could launch faster. Having the planes up on the flight deck would let us pre-check the planes on the deck with the motors running. Since this was the first mission of the night, there were no planes coming back. The chief was wondering why we were not following the standard practice of moving all the planes to the flight deck level before we started to launch.

“I got it,” I said. “You’re having problems figuring out how to move my planes so that we can do our jobs. That’s OK, Chief, I’ll set it up so that you’ll have an easy day of it. Send the planes up ASAP after final checks and we’ll line them up on the main deck. If there is anything else the air boss can do, just call on me.” He replied instantly, “I can think of several things I would like to tell you to do, Sir, but I am busy saving democracy as we know it. I will make up a list and have it translated into pilot talk so that you can understand what I mean.”

“No problem, chief, I always know what you mean,” I said with a laugh.

The chief and I worked together every day and our banter was all that kept us from fighting with each other. His job required that he ask me for things that I usually couldn’t do when he needed them to happen. We had worked out most of the issues and the good humor remained. Bentley was quite right; the chief was the best at what he was assigned to do.

I would have to find time for another talk with Bentley about the standard procedure of having all the planes on the upper level (flight deck) before we set up to run air operations. There were elevators that moved planes between the upper flight deck and the hangar bay one level below the flight deck. During flight operations, it was preferred not to run the elevators. It was the standard process to get all the planes that were to be launched on the flight deck before any flight operations were begun. As the planes landed, they were parked on the flight deck for movement after flight ops were over. There was ample room designed into the flight deck to accomplish all of the goals.

I turned my attention to the flight status of the ship. The planes we would fly that day had a minimum flight speed that had to be attained during launch or the plane would get real wet right in front of the ship. The launch included three different types of planes. We had only 5 knots of wind that day, so there was not a lot of help getting over 140 knots to fly. The catapult’s speed was adjustable and the ship had to make up the difference between the speed of the wind, catapult, and the minimum speed of the plane. This requirement was why the biggest ships in the Navy were also the fastest.

We could launch planes, on a calm day, with a punishing catapult setting and lots of steam in the four power plants. The carrier traveled with a formation of ships that supported the mission and protected the carrier. None of the support ships could begin to match the speed of the carrier on a calm day. The ship took off and left the support ships like they were standing still. After the planes were launched, the ship would slow and allow the others to catch back up. This was the normal set-up when the ship was doing flight operations.

I adjusted the course and speed to get the wind right down the launch deck and cranked up as high as I could for the 12 Phantoms. They were the fighters of the day and possessed the speed and weapons to support the action going on in-country. They could do many different missions to support the fighting and it was that versatility that made them the best choice for that part of the conflict. Our planes were reliable, with enough power to carry the full load of weapons if need be. The pilot’s primary requirement for fighters would always be the reliability to get us back to the ship. Except for some armor problems in the belly of the plane, and the lack of a cannon in the nose, we liked the plane. I found comfort in the knowledge that when in a tight spot during a mission, I was sitting in the fastest plane in history and the holder of the world speed record. At a max speed of 2.2 times the speed of sound, I could dive to the trees and stand on the afterburners. I would let the big jets in the plane pull me out of trouble at the astonishing speed of over 1,400 miles per hour. It was not fancy. It was also not like the dog fights I grew up watching in the movies and reading about in books, but it worked for us.

The first plane of the 12 to be launched was pushed into position on the right-hand catapult of the forward deck. It was hooked up and final-checked for launch. The deck leader plugged into the communication system of the plane to run checks with the back seat. The RIO was the second man in the plane and, as radar intercept officer, he navigated and operated the weapon systems of the plane. The pilot was in the front and concentrated on flying the complicated state-of-the-art plane. This division of work was required as one man could not do all the tasks required in combat. The back seat did not have flight controls, and that made the RIO a nervous passenger when the situation got challenging.

The deck crew confirmed that the plane was all set to launch and reported to me. I keyed the radio and said “Joker - Overloard you are clear to launch, good luck” and I heard the response “Overloard - Joker roger launch.”

The pilot got confirmation from the back seat that all was ready to fly and delivered a salute to the catapult operator that said they were ready. This is all routine for the members of the wing, and, with all actions taken and the calculations made, the operator fired the mighty catapult that accelerated the plane to the edge of the deck and released it fly. The afterburners helped the plane climb and the Joker turned the plane to the left to fly to the point designated to meet up with the other three planes in his group. Joker was Lieutenant Don Coswell and he was filling in for me as the lead plane. He was my wing man for the entire time I had been with the wing. He was my closest friend and the wing’s comedy relief when we were stressed. The only time I was surprised by his behavior would have been when he did not act up in some way. We knew each other before the Navy and learned to fly at the same time. Don was the best pilot in the wing. He changed frequencies to be able to call the others in his group as he ran the after-launch-checks to confirm the plane was ready to fight.

The catapult on the left side of the flight deck was ready. The second F-4 was rolled into position and hooked up to the nose gear hardware. As before, the checks were run inside and outside the plane. I got the notification that everything was ready for flight. I keyed the radio and said, ”Spinster – Overloard, you are clear to launch. Good luck”. The response came back promptly, “Overloard – Spinster, roger launch.”

Spinster was Len Toner and he was an experienced pilot that was in the wing when I arrived. He was a fine pilot with lightning reflexes that made him an asset to the wing. Today, he was flying wing man for Joker, he finished his checks and gave the salute to the catapult operator. The big rig fired the fighter down the deck and into the air in a split second. The ride the catapult gave us was like a wake-up-call and my heart would race for minutes after the shock to my system. The plane began the turn to the right and suddenly the airframe shuddered and the right-side motor went dark. The plane faltered in the air and slowed, while beginning to loose altitude. This is a life-and-death emergency that was upon the pilot in an instant. The motor had stopped in the time it took to ride the catapult. The plane was barley at flight speed and needed full power to increase speed and climb to safety. With one motor, and a full load of fuel and weapons, that was unlikely on a fairly calm day.

Time seemed to slow for Spinster as his mind went to full speed. The plane was hard to fly, and the altimeter was telling a deadly story for the experienced pilot to figure out. He evaluated the situation and decided that the plane could not climb clear of the water before impact. He could feel the plane slowing and knew there was no time to debate the options for saving their lives. His blood ran cold as he made the decision to egress the plane. At that instant, ejecting from the plane had a fifty-fifty chance of their survival. As the ejection seats were shot from the plane, there was a considerable chance that the they would hit the ship that was closing in on the plane. That plane had not been upgraded, and so there was also a chance that the parachute would not open in time to save them from hitting the water. Staying in the plane would mean they would have been strapped in as it hit the water with the largest ship in the navy right behind them. LT Toner was well aware of all of the problems he faced. His training and quick mind combined to allow him to think at a high rate as he pushed the emotions and doubt aside. Each option had deadly components and it came down to a judgement call that would change the lives of both men in the plane. He keyed the mike on the intercom before he had made the final decision for them and he then gave the order: “Eject -Eject-Eject” and in an instant both were shot out of the plane by a large shell under the seat. The acceleration combined with 125 mph wind over the plane made them shoot from the plane and become twisted and pulled by the forces outside the plane. The acceleration faded in several seconds and then a feeling of weightlessness while they waited to see if the chutes opened.

He had taken actions to increase the odds of survival for himself and his RIO. Spinster was trying to aim the ejection seats so that they would not hit the ship. After what seemed like minutes, the chutes opened and the realism of the situation began to soak into their minds with the cold sea water that suddenly hit them.

I lost sight of the plane as the huge ship overtook it. I watched the two dots as the ejection seats took over, and they were blasted straight up several hundred feet. Everyone onboard had eyes glued to the two men as they were powered to altitude and the parachutes opened. By the time the men were safely in the water, the ship had motored well past them, and the plane was gone. We were all shocked at how fast the plane disappeared in the dark water. While we did not see the impact with the water, the plane was in several pieces as it came into view. The impact was not something they could have survived, and so some good decisions had been made by Spinster.

The scene was chaotic as I was shutting down flight operations and the senior watch officer was slowing the ship while securing from preparations to launch the next plane. The bridge had erupted with activity around the downed men and the lost plane.

Our rescue helos were in the air in an instant and soon had our men scooped out of the water. I was in radio contact with the helos and confirmed that the two men, that normally fly with me, were alive and would be seen by the ship’s doctor to be checked out. After that was done, they would both proceed to the briefing room to begin the work that follows an incident like this one.

The ship was slowed and turned to a course to re-join the formation. Many actions were taken to secure from flying and set the regular steaming watches throughout the ship. These things were done with amazing efficiency and in a few moments one could not tell there had just been a major emergency on deck.

The senior watch officer arrived on the bridge wing with a load of questions for me:

“Maine, what the hell was that?” He asked, “it looked like he lost a godamed motor in the middle of the launch!”

“He did just that.” I responded, “We will soon get the facts, but it was a cold shot probably caused by a compressor stall or a fuel pump failure. The important thing is that our guys are OK and being checked out.”

“That is a good thing.” He said with a stressed voice and the body language of a mass murder. “I have never seen you guys put a plane in the water, it was a wonder they were not killed!”

“You got that right,” I said, “the chances of getting out of that situation is about 50-50 with failure of one motor and less than ten percent if they both quit. That is, assuming the pilot gets everything right and nothing else goes wrong while he is saving their lives.”

“I just can’t believe what I saw!” he shouted, “I am secured from flight operations and the ship and formation is safe. What the hell do we do next, under these circumstances?”

“I have to get everything secured and we have a long checklist of actions that will take about an hour to complete.” I told him.” we have data to collect before any changes are made to the equipment. It is essential to know everything we can, so that we can reconstruct the situation.”

“Well, I will steam straight until you tell me different, Maine, so keep me informed.” He ordered. I assured him that he would be the first to hear when we could resume normal operations.

I organized teams of people to confirm the position of all the equipment and the settings of every gauge and instrument in our area of the ship. There were “After Incident Reports” to be filled out by every person that was on deck or working on the launch in any capacity. All the information would be collected in less than two hours so that we could get back to our jobs.

My first concern was for the Pilot and the RIO, whom I had known for many years. The RIO, for that flight, was Lieutenant Pete Keys (call sign Demon). Pete was one of the better RIOs in the wing. He had eight years in the back seat that made him capable, and his nature was to be calm when things got difficult. The two of them were about the best combination of talent that you could put in a plane when there was an emergency. I knew that they would be able to tell us what had gone wrong with the plane. The RIO position sat behind the pilot and was in charge of navigation and all the weapons that were on the plane. The pilot was the plane commander, and was responsible for flying the plane and keeping them safe.

Meanwhile, the rest of the scheduled planes were not launched. Our requirements to support the ground troops had to be met, and so the ship returned to the routine that made it the best carrier in the fleet. In only a few hours, the next missions were run and the planes were flown as if nothing had happened.

Every pilot was uneasy about the plane loss and we all knew that it could have been any one of us that was tested to see if we could survive. We would remain concerned until we found out what caused the engine loss in Toner’s plane.

I was betting that the cause of the problem was a compressor stall in the right engine. Our big jet engines performed well in fighters. They were reliable overall and, once we got them running, they seldom gave us any problems. When they did act up, however, there was a short list of things to do about it. One of these problems was the compressor stall which happened mostly while the motor was heating up, causing it to shut off completely. Having a jet go dead was never going to be the best part of our day. The worst time for the motor to shut down was after the catapult operator had pulled the trigger and the steam ram was shooting you and your 45-million-dollar fighter off the bow of the ship.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

Find Out What Happened

Len Toner and Pete Keys were in the briefing room with Coswell as I arrived with my wing commander. They were drinking coffee and discussing the ill-fated mission. These old friends saw us coming and got serious looks on their faces. I shook their hands and asked if they were OK.

“Hell, Main, we are fine except for bruises in some personal places and a little case of jumpy nerves.” Spinster said.

“That was a hell of a ride,” said Spinster. “we are glad to have made it out of there. We all know that you need some luck to get out before the thing catches on fire or hits the drink..”

“It is great to see you and know you are both OK.” I confirmed, “so tell me what happened and we will all get back to work.” I ordered.

“The setup looked fine and everything was normal as we hit the catapult. He set the thing off and we zipped over the end of the flight deck in no time.” He said. “There were no alarms or anything as we were off of the ship, the entire right side of the plane just went dark!”

“Oh shit, Spinster,” I said. “I was sure you got the compressor stall light and it would be one of those things we have heard about. You are telling me that you don’t know what caused the motor to stop?”

“I am, Main,” he responded,” I had no warning that anything went wrong, and it just went dark. All the alarms are dual powered so there was nothing for the diagnostics to pick up. It could have been a fuel pump, I guess, but that is about all I can think of.”

“I stopped by the Chief’s area,” said Pete Keys (Demon), “and he said that since there were two fuel pumps, that was not what happened. The chief could not say what it was, with any confidence.”

“So, we don’t know what the cause was and, since the plane is gone, we will never know for sure?” I asked

“That is about it, Sir," Spinster said.

“What can you add to this, Joker?” I asked

“Bad day” He responded “The catapult was in good shape and I helped him set up before the flight. Everything looked normal and we were looking to have a fine day without our asshole flight leader to order us around for the entire mission. I saw him launch and the rest was a bad dream.”

“Thanks for that” I said, “ you are always a big help!”

“I will say this, Joker” said the wing commander “I can always count on your weird mind. Have we tested you to see if you are sane enough to fly?”

“We have not, Sir” I responded, “there is such a shortage of pilots that the organization now accepts crazy and demented as the normal.”

“I feel safe here with all of you” said Joker “if they did test this place would look like a museum.”

“With that, we can get to work and hope nobody notices any of you crazy assholes.” I said

I was concerned that an accident like this could happen and we have no actions to take, no items to work on, and nothing to tell the senior officers when I went to the briefing a few minutes later. Pilots tend to be supersticious on a calm day, and they act crazy in a situation like this. For them, not knowing what happened to the plane would cause bad reactions.

I went to the briefing room and began the meeting:

“At ease everyone” said the wing commander “This is the after incident briefing for our cold shot of Spinster and Demon. After the preliminary look at the incident, I can’t tell you why the motor quit. There were no indications or alarms from the plane, it just shut down during the catapult cycle.”

“Commander” BB interrupted. “many of us are wondering what conditions could even cause that if the compressor stall light was not on.”

“I was sure that was the cause and then the men showed up to say it was not. By the way, big applause for Spinster and Demon. You two did a great job with a bad situation. Spinster, do you want to fill them in on the instrument presentation?” Responded the wing commander

“Hell no”, he said “I don’t ever want to think of that again. No alarms or warnings, she just began to slow and the controls got like mush. I could reach down and get a handful of water I was so low, and the godamed motor just quit. I heard Demon saying a prayer ‘cause we all know the stats on getting out of that situation. “

“I was not praying” said Demon, “I was talking to the spinster but it is hard to hold down the intercom button while having a nervous breakdown. I would have converted to any religion that would get me out of there”

“Any way” said the Spinster, “I saw no indication of a problem as we came out of the catapult fog. I started the turn and she shook as the aileron went in. I could feel it slow but the instruments said we were OK. Y’all know the rest.”

“Thanks, you two.” I said “This will get figured out asap. I would appreciate it if you would not spend the days talking up some strange cause for all of this as it will only make things worse. Stay calm and let us find out what happened. “

“I would like to reinforce that, Gentlemen” said the wing commander. “Main is right. We are here to fight the enemy and we are expected to take things like this in stride. We will get to the bottom of Spinster’s problem and, in the mean-time, we will fight the war and take strides to victory. I am in charge around here and I can tell you I see the events of the future clearly. I will kick anyone’s ass that freaks out about all of this.”

“Thanks Skipper” I said, “that cleared it up for me. Any other questions?”

“I would like to know what the down elevator was for right before they punched out.“ asked Coswell.

“Sure” I said. “The ejection seat shoots straight up and the wind over the plane will deflect you so that you go up and back. That is how you hit the ship and the splat is not in the Plan-Of-the-Day. You can stand on the down elevator and pitch the nose down just as you shoot. That will make you go up and forward to miss the flight deck as it comes streaking by. The wind that day was low, so the ship was all cranked up and was trying to hit them.”

“Thanks commander” he said “I just never heard of doing that.”

“Well now you have,” I said, “And it looks like it saved their lives.”

The Skipper and I stayed in the briefing room to talk about the situation in more detail. His name was Commander Chris Lastrino and we had been working together for two years. He was a good commanding officer and an even better fighter pilot. He had always wanted to be an aviator and he did his job with flair and dedication that made all of us respect him. While his language was not fit for the civilian world, he could communicate with the men with great clarity. He liked to fly and thought that his seniority allowed him to do that and leave the running of the wing to me. We had a good relationship based on trust and tested many times in battle.

“Main” he said to me ”we need to get this motor failure question behind us before we are eaten up and shit over a cliff by the men. We can’t have them thinking about the plane and making dumbassed mistakes in the air.”

“Agreed Sir” I said “I will find out more from the chief and try to give another update next time we are all in the ready room”

“Make it so” The CO said as he walked away.

I thought of how to understand the situation they faced in the plane. When the power failed, Spinster would have thought it was a compressor stall and that would have distracted him for a moment. The compressor section of the jet was a series of fan blades that were turned by the aft portion of the motor. These fan blades compressed the air flowing into the front of the motor and accelerated it into the combustion section. Without the compressed air to mix with the jet fuel, the combustion would stop, and the motor would start to slow down. Since it ran at 250,000 rpm, you had a few seconds to act while the massive motor spun down to a full stop. Once it had stopped, we were low on choices, since this was not like a car. It had no actual starter built in, because starters were very heavy Our jets did have a small starter that blew air on the fan blades and caused the motor to spin up. The air needed for this operation came from the compressor section and so it was obviously a problem having the motor stop while you are flying. The successful restart of the motor in the air, or on the flight deck, would average less than one-half of the attempts.

The worst case would be to go in the water right in front of the huge ship. I tried not to think of the exact result of that outcome, but it would be the final problem.

Once the ship was headed downwind and things were in order with the wing, there was time to assess the situation. Back on the phone, the Chief was talking to me while chewing on his mangled cigar. He did that for as long as I had known him, and I never saw him smoke it. Having that thing in his mouth made him talk with worse pronunciation but a very forceful tone.

“Hey boss, it’s the chief. I wonder if you could find time in your busy schedule acting like a lawyer to send me some damned help down here?”

“Sure,” I said. “You know I have all these extra folks waiting to be assigned. Why the budget just increased today and there will be even more here tomorrow! Whatever you need!”

“That last flight used two black boxes and I’m low because nobody has time to get them back up by the time we launch more of these shiny things,” said the chief with real concern in his voice. I asked about the reserves he had and was surprised to find just two spares. The black boxes were units that plugged into the airplane and contain entire systems. If we were having a problem with the navigation system, and we needed to launch soon, there was no time to diagnose the problem. The support people simply opened a hatch on the fuselage and removed the black box that contained the NAV system. A working one was plugged in and things were magically fixed. The defective black boxes had to be repaired and put back on the shelf at some later date. There were electronics techs assigned to the chief to do that job, but he was short two at that moment. This is what had the chief on edge since you can use many of the boxes as you try to launch a dozen birds in six minutes.

The chief said it was simple work that any Electronics Tech could do.

“Let me look into it, chief, and I will get right back to you,” I said. This was a serious issue for the wing, and I knew that the pressure on the black boxes would continue and increase. There were no more ETs assigned to the wing, so I would have to arrange to get some from other parts of the ship. The person that could send us the people we need would be the operations officer. I eased over to the center of the bridge to talk to the SWO (senior watch officer). Commander Russel Helmsley was the commander that held the position of sea detail officer of the deck. He was the assigned officer to take over when other ships came alongside the carrier to get or give supplies. He was the best ship driver in the fleet. There was a quiet competence about him that made everyone do their job a little better. He had been on the ship for two years, and he was in the zone to make Captain on the next go around. Everyone wanted him to stay as the best operations officer they had ever seen. All of us also knew that would never happen.

As I approached the SWO, he gave me a look that said he was glad to see me and that he had something to tell me. We used the job titles rather than names, so it was clear who was doing what job this watch.

“Hey SWO (we pronounced the abbreviations and it made us sound like we had speech problems), you look like you have something for me,” I said.

He responded with a usual smile and unsettling words. “Yep, I was just told to have you in the radio room at 21:30 hours for a KY8 call with some of the powers from the puzzle palace. They have an assignment for you and they sounded really serious about it.” I assured him I would be there and wondered who else had been selected. “Just you, Main, and they wanted to be sure of that.”

“Do you have any other information on the subject of the phone call? “I wondered, but he said he didn’t. I was ordered to just be there to get an assignment from someone for something. The Pentagon (named Puzzle Palace) had many support activities that needed to be watched, and this was likely one of them. Most of these items are not highly classified, but this call was on the secured phone called the KY8. That meant it was not routine.

“Nothing to do but attend the meeting and go from there,” I said with some confusion in my voice.

“Roger that,” said the SWO. “There’s always something going on that will add time to your day."

I then discussed the ET (electronics tech) issue with him, as he was also the operations officer. He had the entire electronics department in his organization. He had no problem with helping on the black boxes, and he said he would have someone with the chief in less than an hour.

“I was thinking the other day, you and I go back about as far as anyone I am working with” he said “and we are still friends in spite of getting to know each other pretty well!”

“I never thought of it quite that way” I admitted, “but I guess you are right. We have spent a lot of time together over the years. What made you think of the good old days?”

“Not sure, maybe because I had a new guy to train up here and it put me in mind of all the watches we did together.”

“Yep, I have never had such long conversations about unimportant things.” I noted.

I began my career as a surface officer instead of a pilot, because I could not meet the vision requirements to get into jet school. I had lots of prior experience because I flew jets as a corporate pilot while going to college at Georgia Tech. I learned to love to fly from my father at age 14. At 16, the FAA issued single engine licenses, and I made sure to get mine near my birthday. I continued to fly, and soon got an instrument rating. I worked to afford continued hours and before I went to college I was multi-engine qualified. Flying was my main motivation to work. I was most alive when I was in the air. It didn’t seem to matter if it was a glider or a multi engine jet, the time in the air was the best. The market, at that time, was such that the Navy recruiting effort produced sufficient pilots with perfect vision to satisfy the need for carrier pilots. Since the recruiters could fill the jobs with high entrance standards, the Navy was better off. I knew that the times were changing as the war in Viet Nam stepped up. The Navy would have to lower the vision requirements to keep a pilot in each seat. My choices were limited with the Airforce because they never had to lower the standards.

I decided to wait for the chance to get in an F-4 Phantom, and that meant being in the fleet and learning the life of ships. My hope was that the supply of pilots would change, and the requirement for perfect vision would soon be modified. My qualifications were good enough that as soon as the standards changed, I got my chance to fly.

The bad start to the watch seemed to appease Murphy’s law and the rest of the flight operations went off without a problem. Since the Air Boss was only on the bridge while flight ops are in play, I was free to return to my responsibilities. The bridge watch people were always there, and they had several more hours to be under the pressure of command of the carrier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

A Call from ONI

I found the radio room just before the appointed time. The ship offered the services of the Marine Corps to escort people to their destination because of the size of the vessel. The passageways were numbered and lettered much like street names. The challenge was that all the passageways looked very much alike. If you ventured away from the familiar areas without an escort, then you ran a high chance of becoming disoriented. You would end up calling for an escort to come and set things straight. It was faster, and less embarrassing, to use the guide if the destination was in an unfamiliar part of the ship. Having been on the ship for nearly a month, I used a Corporal named Fergisson, who was from West Virginia. He was what you would want all our Marines to be like. I once asked if he liked his job (wondering how anyone could), and his genuine response was that it was, “The best damn job on the ship, if you like hep’in people, and want to do it every day!” He had been doing this job on this ship for three years. He thought that the ship’s business could not get done if people could not find each other. It struck me that he might just have the secret to life….

The ship was designed with areas defined by the job being done. That meant there were many local areas where you could work, live, eat and shop, all in a concentrated place. This organization minimized the miles one would have to travel during a day. Also, with more than 50 of these professional areas, you could find any service or activity you wanted at any time of the day. One might have to travel quite some distance to find a meal at 1 am, but it was there every hour of every day.

The radio room was really a series of rooms that began with a conference room, used for any radio-related business. The rooms became progressively more technical, and more highly classified, until they ended with rooms full of equipment for radio and teletype. If you had business in the radio area, you would end up selecting the proper room to meet with the people you needed to see. For survivability, these rooms were spread all over the ship to the extent that you would need a Marine to find the right one. I understood that a ship of this size, and world influence, needed spectacular communications always available. One could pick up the correct phone and call directly to the war room in the basement of the White House from anywhere on the planet. With the number of ships steaming in formation, there was a need for multiple radio frequencies to accomplish the daily business of the fleet.

I sat in the room and waited for the meeting to begin. After a time, the KY-8 secure phone lit up and I answered it with my name and rank. The voices on the other end introduced themselves in turn, from the most senior down. me:

“ Commander, I am the Assistant Director and the Deputy for the Asian Theater is also on the line. We have encountered a situation that we want to make you aware of.”

“ I will be glad to help in any way I can. You guys do a great job for us and we owe you a lot, Sir”

“Thanks, Commander,” He said ”we need to make you aware of a strange problem we found in one of the two planes you sent to Miramar for some upgrades.”

“I know those planes well, Sir” I confirmed “What problem did they have with our birds?”

“This is Deputy Director Simms, commander. They installed the upgrades to the Nav system and took them out for testing and alignment of the new gear. One of the planes had a motor out emergency and they lost the plane.”

“Shit, Sir, that is not what I wanted to hear. Did the plane commander and the RIO get out OK?” I asked

“They did, but the plane was lost in the mountains and it is a real mess. After quite an evaluation of the situation, we have come to understand that the fuel filter was jelled up and that prevented the motor from getting gas.”

“Now that is interesting,” I said “I have never heard of that in my years flying these things. What else have you learned about the filters?

“This is the director, we are looking into the production facility and should have that wrapped up in a couple of days. They will have to help us understand what went wrong with the filters. That is why we are calling you, commander. You should get in gear on the filters as soon as we figure out how to tell the bad ones from the good.

“Well, director,” I said, “We sure need to know what’s wrong with the filters and how will we go about inspecting them.” That was the question of the day and the reason for the call. The filters all looked OK, but after they have been in service for one to three hours, the inside of the canisters turned to a gel-like substance that clogged up the flow of fuel.

The director said, “Now remember that, out of thousands of filters shipped by Mobil, we really only have one that shows the defect.”

“Yes Sir” I said. In my years with the organization, I learned that information is the ultimate power and I just did not want to trust the information about our earlier plane failure to them without knowing more about what was going on in Washington.

Director” I asked “can you take me through how you selected me for this assignment and not my Boss?”

“Sure, that is a fair question.” He admitted, “You have years of experience as a shipboard officer as well as being second in command of the wing. Your boss is tied up with some work he is not at liberty to discuss and recommended you without hesitation. He realizes this will take some of your time and assured us you will be able to handle the demands of the problem.”

“I will do my best” I said,

” I realize you were unaware of this problem and it will take some time to get set up for finding the answer. We wanted a senior officer for the job and we have discussed this with the ship’s CO and the XO. They are fine with the plan and you are to give them regular briefings including your CO.

“Will do” I said and we set a date and time for the next conversation. They gave me the numbers of the head of Quality Control at the Mobile plant that makes the filters.

I was convinced that they had done the work to get at the true cause of the loss of a plane. Their account of the failure of one motor was a familiar one and I immediately felt my skin temperature rise and a wave of concern made my stomach jump. This problem was real and sounded like the second occurrence in the last week. I had reason to think it was two planes lost and it gave me the willies to think that it could happen to one of us over the jungle in enemy territory. If it happened, the pilot would get the choice that we all fear - eject into the hands of the enemy or take the plane down.

I assured the director that we would not only check the filters, but we would move any obstruction, to be sure the planes were safe to fly. He said he appreciated that and that we could talk the next day. He expected that the Mobil Filters plant should have a test for us to run on the filters in inventory. I committed to follow up with them the next morning.

As Corporal Fergisson and I made our way back to the dining area to get some food, I wondered what the chances were that there were bad filters in our planes right now.

“Corporal,” I said with a very serious tone, “if I needed your help all the time for a few days, who would be the right one to ask?”

“Sir,” he began, “you would need to see the sergeant because he’d be the head man for all us Marines, Sir.” Everything he said began and ended with sir and his posture straightened every time he said it.

“Great, why don’t we head his way now, and see what I can arrange?”

“Sir, I will take y’all right there, Sir.” On the way, he wanted to know what I had for him to do that would take his full time. “Sir, I got lots of folks that need me to ‘hepem’ get around, Sir.” I told him that he was key to my ability to talk to the many departments that I would need to see. I would spend too much time trying to find their offices if I did not have him.

“Sir, that’s mighty kind of you, and it’s near about lunch time so I’ll take y’all right to the mess to see him, Sir.” And we did that without delay. Soon, Corporal Fergisson was mine, and things started to speed up a little.

Lunch was with Coswell, as usual, and we talked at length about the loss of the plane. I brought him up to date on the filter issue to get his take on what I had learned. He agreed that we should think about this as the cause of the cold shot as well as the plane lost at Miramar. We started to think about what to do and decided we needed the information from the manufacturer before we could know anything for sure. We ended the daily lunch with some strange thoughts from his fertile mind. He was my comic relief and managed to have a new joke every day. I spent a lot of time with him and it always did my head some good. Fergisson and I went on to the next thing after lunch and I was still laughing at the dirty joke of the day.

This filter problem could easily cause the loss of planes and lives. I needed to get this problem cleared up in short order. By the time I finished the chicken and dumpling lunch, I had the first few steps thought out to begin the work at hand.

I began with a visit to the ship’s supply officer to get read in on the process he used to handle the orders for parts. Commander Glinter was the senior man in the supply department, responsible for an untold number of details that make the ship run. The Commander told me that the question depended on the destination of the parts. If the order was for the ship, it was entirely in his system, and he tracked any item from order to the signature that received the part onboard. If it was for the wing, then the order could only come from the wing supply officer. How the wing supply officer’s system worked was a mystery to him.

“Your supply officer must be using some system for the parts, but I don’t know what it is. I have a signature card that controls approvals on purchase orders that must have 40 names on it.” He stated further that the names change even on an individual part. He obviously thought that there was a need for some organization in that part of the supply system. I thanked him for being a great help in my understanding of how the system operated.

“Are you doing research for the board of inquiry on the cost reduction issue from fleet supply?” he asked.

“No, I responded, “I am looking into the supply chain to answer questions from Chief Landsome.”

“That seems odd, since he is one of the people that can order parts from me without the signature of LT Ward,” he said. So, the chief can order things and not tell the wing supply officer. As the guy in charge of parts and supplies, I would have thought he had approval for everything. I know LT Ward and his ability with the wing’s supplies seemed to be very high. I need to have a conversation with him about the filters, without his awareness which part I was talking about.

LT Ward was in the office when Fergisson and I arrived. I asked if he could give me a few minutes for train-the-pilot time. He was the sort who would always help if he could, so he asked me to sit down and he would do his best.

“I am trying to understand what the supply system can do to lower the cost of operation, and to get more efficient with all the parts that flow through here“ I said, hoping he would not follow up on that part of the conversation. He immediately dashed my hopes and inquired what part of the system I wanted to know about.

“It is a series of parts for the P and W jets in our planes,” I responded. “I may need to look at the inventory and run a test or two to be sure they are safe to go into the planes.”

“I understand, Sir, and I will tell you what I know. It is a complicated system and I am new at running my end. I have enough requests here to keep me busy for weeks,” he said, with a look of confusion and maybe a little fear. I hated to press this young clerk, but I was sure he had information I needed.

 

Impressum

Texte: Brian Deis TXu-2-129-227 2/28/19
Cover: Brilan Deis
Lektorat: Anne Brewer
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 12.02.2019

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