Greetings, all! As Mark Twain said (maybe), “rumors of my demise are greatly exaggerated.” After two fabulous weeks in Italy with my bride I returned in the face of the shutdown/furlough, went to work for half a day to “shut ‘er down” and have been furloughed since 01 October, working around the house on projects big and small since then. After a nearly 4-week hiatus from X and #TomcatTails, I’m ready to dip my toe back in and reconnect with all my X mutuals. Great to be back!!
If you’re away from carrier landings for some time, you generally have to go back to basics and get some FCLPs (Field Carrier Landing Practice) at an airfield before you can go back to the boat. In that spirit, I’ll need some OSWP (Other’s Story Writing Practice) to knock the creative cobwebs off. By that I mean I’ll be relating one of the BEST stories I’ve been told by a close friend in the Tomcat Community as a warmup. This story comes from by good friend “Norm” who is one of the best story tellers I’ve ever met. He’s got one about a Big Foot encounter that he breaks out at dinner parties and everyone’s on the edge of their seat. This particular #TomcatTail is from Norm’s time in the VF-142 Ghostriders in the mid to late 80s and makes Big Foot look like a marmoset.
As Norm related the event, VF-142 (normally called “the Goats”) were on a cruise on the boat in the Northern Atlantic, doing the normal presence/power projection deployment common to the era. At this time, the Soviet Union was still a thing and the Soviet Navy was a true force to be reckoned with in terms of firepower and numbers. Additionally, every Carrier Battle Group was shadowed by the ever-present “Russian Trawler”. This trawler was simply a “research vessel” to hear the Rooskies tell it, but in reality it was an intelligence gathering platform festooned with antennas and sensors. Additionally, they were always gathering intel on how the Navy conducted flight operations in order to hopefully do the same ops someday. Fat chance, really. No one could (or can) touch the US Navy when it comes to carrier operations.
As with any really good sea story about flying around the boat, the weather was absolute dog squeeze but in this case, it was FROZEN dog squeeze. Near zero visibility, 100-foot ceilings, heavy seas, high winds, and the flight deck was covered with ice. I’ve never been to the Northern Atlantic (NORLANT) but I’m told this is just an average day there in the winter. Sounds like fun, if by “fun” you mean maximum a-hole pucker.
Naturally, some smart Ops guy decides the ship should launch a sacrificial Tomcat that day to see if the weather is any better on top of the clouds. Recall from previous stories the “sacrificial Tomcat” was the lucky crew that was launched in REALLY bad conditions to test out the weather. The thinking was that with the F-14s legs (gas and range), they could either launch and recover, launch and hold and recover, or launch and divert. Gee, thanks. How about NOT launch and we just stay in our racks? Nope, sorry.
Norm and his pilot get the nod and head up to the roof. As Norm told it, he stepped out of Flight Deck Control at the base of the island and was immediately met by heavy frozen wind in the face, ice crystals stinging any exposed skin, and a veritable winter wonderland of gray flight deck and aircraft with max possible chains on them to keep them in place, all covered by a layer of ice and snow. Peachy. Just peachy.
They made their way aft behind the island where the Tomcats normally parked, walking and sliding like one would if one were trying to navigate a hockey rink (with 30 knots of wind at your back). Once at the jet they met their frozen Plane Captain and did the preflight as best able given the conditions. They gingerly climbed up the ladder to get in, not wanting to fall off the jet and a) get hurt, or b) get the callsign “Humpty.” Like most really nasty weather man-ups, getting in and getting the canopy closed to keep the elements out provides a measure of comfort to enable better focus at the task at hand. Meanwhile, a host of hard-charging Sailors were outside in the elements doing their part to make it work. I can never speak highly enough of those intrepid warriors that worked on the flight deck day/night, good weather and bad, for hours and hours on end. True heroes.
Once the jet got started up and ready to go, it was time to release the chains and get the show on the road. So how does one taxi a 70,000 pound Fighter on a frozen flight deck that’s pitching and rolling in heavy seas? I know, I know; “very carefully”. What Norm TOLD me how they did it was incredible and dangerous. He, the Pilot, the Handler (guy in charge of the fight deck crews) and his Maintenance Chief worked it out thusly:
1. They would have two Sailors at each of the Tomcat’s wheels (mains and nose).
2. Each Sailor would have one end of a tie-down chain hooked to the tie-down ring on the gear.
3. When the deck was steady, the Sailors would unhook their chains from the nearest padeye (recessed ring in the flight deck to tie down jets; they’re all over the flight deck) and the aircraft director would signal to the Pilot to slowly taxi forward. Each Sailor would walk along with the jet holding their individual chain.
4. Once the deck started to move after 10 or 15 seconds, the aircraft director would quickly signal the Sailors to hook their chains into the nearest padeye and hold it there.
5. The deck would move left or right, up or down, and the Tomcat would slide a little bit until it banged to a stop against the chains on the side holding it back from sliding.
6. Lather, rinse, and repeat until you got the jet into the shuttle on the catapult and then chain it down to start the launch preps.
7. When all was ready and steady, unchain the beast, go to Zone 5 and BANG you’re airborne.
What could possibly go wrong? Well, about 10,000 things and 9,786 of them involve death or dismemberment. All in a day’s work though, right?
First, he couldn’t believe they were actually going to do this. Second, he couldn’t believe they’d actually launch in these conditions. Having had very similar beliefs myself on occasion, the operative answer is “believe it.” He related that the first time they released the chains and brakes, they began to slowly roll forward. All of the activity under the jet was invisible to the crew so they could only look at the director. Sure enough, after 10 seconds the director signaled the pilot to stop and Sailors to hook into a padeye. The Tomcat slowed, then started to slide straight to the left and then stopped with a jolt and a loud CHUNNNNGGGGGG. Definitely NOT a sensation or sound he’d heard before.
The deck steadied, the director signaled everyone to release, and they started moving forward 20-25 feet, and then the all-stop signal. Sliiiiide….CHUNNNNGGGGGG!!! And then again. And again. And again. Eventually they’d “slide/CHUNG’d” their way to the catapult and were hooked up and chained back down. As you all recall the procedure there, wings out, flaps down, etc. Once the deck steadied, they unchained, ran ‘em up, wiped out the controls, and went to Zone 5 on the signal. Norm related that his pilot said to him “guess we’re doin’ this” and turned the lights on to signal “ready”. BANG <catapult fires> ZOOM <heavy acceleration> FLOOF <right into the clouds off the stroke>. Again, peachy. Just peachy.
Once airborne he said the weather actually wasn’t that bad once above 8,000 feet or so. So now what? Well, they get told to come back and land. After dumping JUST enough gas to land, they started the procedures to recover. The ship had moved a bit since the launch so they were able to recover on a Case III in slightly better conditions. Here, “slightly better conditions” means “absolutely atrocious but manageable”. Immediately after they trapped and the jet was stopped, a bunch of Sailors ran out with chains and chained the Tomcat down in place in the landing area and had them shut down. “We’ll park that one later after it get’s a little better” <Sailors, probably>.
I think I did that story justice to a point, but if you got to hear Norm tell it you’d be puckering your seat cushion into your body. Just absolute grit, bravery, and force of will by all hands to make that happen. But “Why” you ask?
The entire evolution was conducted under the watchful eye of a USSR Russian Trawler in close trail behind the boat. They saw or sensed every minute of it. The entire evolution was a message to the Soviets. “Anytime Baby” isn’t just a Tomcat thing. It’s a United States Navy thing. Bad weather? Pshaw. Darkness? Pshaw. Heavy seas? Pshaw. Utterly impossible heavy seas and a frozen flight deck? Pshaw. We’ll come after you any time, anywhere, in any conditions.
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