A Veteran's Journey

Trivia Questions (Answers @ end)

1. Who said, “Don’t walk behind me; I may not lead. Don’t walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.”?
2. In what movie (and who said it) did we hear, “Every man dies. Not every man lives.”?
3. In what song (and who sang it) did we hear:
   So kiss me and smile for me
   Tell me that you’ll wait for me
   Hold me like you’ll never let me go

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As far as I know, there are three aircraft carrier museums: USS Midway (CV-41) in San Diego; USS Yorktown (CV-10) in Charleston, South Carolina; and USS Intrepid (CV-11) in Manhattan. Most civilians visiting these museums walk out onto the flight deck, seeing only a few aircraft scattered about.

I’ve worked on the USS Kitty Hawk (CV-63) flight deck with 50+ aircraft covering the bow, stern, and both sides of the deck. You have to remain alert and constantly keep your head on a swivel. Otherwise you can easily find yourself in trouble.

An aircraft carrier, such as Kitty Hawk, carried a complement of different types of aircraft. These aircraft squadrons made up the Air Wing. Typically, you’d find a couple of fighter jet squadrons, a squadron of EA-6B “Prowlers,” whose main mission was to jam the enemy’s electronics systems, a squadron of E-2C “Hawkeyes,” whose main mission was surveillance and advance warning, a squadron of S-3 “Vikings,” whose mission was anti-submarine warfare, and a squadron of helicopters used for anti-submarine warfare, search and rescue, plane guard, and cargo.

When I was aboard Kitty Hawk, 1975-1977, we also had a reconnaissance squadron of A-3 “Whales,” a bomber squadron of A-6 “Intruders,” two attack squadrons of A-7 “Corsairs,” and an RA-5 “Vigilantes” reconnaissance aircraft. Our two fighter jet squadrons aboard Kitty Hawk were F-4 “Phantoms” during the WESTPAC ‘75 cruise and later, after the Bremerton Shipyards, the F-14 “Tomcats.”

I’d previously written about the flight deck personnel and the varying colored jerseys and their roles during flight ops in a blog post called, “Flight Deck Skittles.”

Pre-Launch Activities

The first thing done before commencing flight ops is a FOD walk down. FOD (“Foreign Object Damage”) can be anything from a small bolt or wing nut to a drunken sailor. Jets have huge intakes and will suck in anything and anybody near them. It’s important to make sure there is nothing on the flight deck that is loose or not fastened down. It would surprise you as to the damage a small wing nut can do to a multi-million dollar jet engine.

On Kitty Hawk, the first aircraft launched and the last aircraft recovered were the SH-3 helicopters. They served as the ship’s “plane guard.” They launch a few minutes before other aircraft, and fly along side the ship in case there was a problem with an aircraft and the plane’s crew ended up in the water. When I was on board Kitty Hawk, we usually had two rescue helos in the air at all times during flight ops.

The next aircraft to launch was the E-2C Hawkeye, a twin-engine, turbo-prop plane. This aircraft serves as the forward “eyes” of the air wing. They kept the big picture for the entire carrier battle group. The E-2C had sophisticated electronics and sensors to provide early warning, threat analysis, and control of counteraction against both air and surface targets. Its distinguishing feature was a large rotating “frisbee” on top of the aircraft.

Besides the above aircraft, the Aircraft Handler determined the order of the launch sequence. Squadron leaders like to think they are in charge, but there’s no particular reason who got launched first. It usually depended on where the plane was located on the flight deck. The Handler overrode all launch sequence decisions.

Moving Aircraft to the Catapult

Launch operations are basically the same for all fixed-wing aircraft. After the Plane captain turns the plane over to the Yellow shirt director, Blue shirts remove the tie-down chains and wheel chocks. The pilot’s eyes are glued on the Yellow shirt’s signals.

Yellow shirts use basic hand signals (“come ahead,” “turn left,” “turn right,” “stop”) to direct the aircraft. For example, when an aircraft initially parked on the fantail of the flight deck will be launched off the waist catapult, a Fly 3 Yellow shirt directs the aircraft out of its tight parking space. There may only be a few inches between these parked aircraft. It takes precise slight movements to keep the aircraft from bumping into another aircraft in those tight spaces.

The pilot and the Yellow shirt learn to trust each other during these difficult maneuvers.

When we got the plane out of its parking spot, we would look to see if another Yellow shirt was ready to take over. Then we’d hand the plane off to a Fly 2 Yellow shirt that would then direct the pilot forward. As the plane moved closer to the waist catapult, another Yellow shirt took over, slowly guiding the plane onto the catapult.

The JBD—Safety

Once the aircraft passed the Jet Blast Deflector, a V-2 Green shirt raised the JBD to protect other aircraft and flight deck personnel from the jet blast. The movement is usually smooth from one point to another, with rarely any stops once the aircraft begins to taxi.

The Yellow shirt at the catapult is about ten to fifteen feet directly in front of the plane. He straddles the catapult so he and the pilot can see eye to eye. He then directs the pilot to unfold the aircraft’s wings.

Squadron Checks—Safety

The squadron ordnance crews checked the bombs and missiles. They literally shook them to make sure they didn’t fall off. They also arm the ordnance by removing safety pins. The checkers look the aircraft over again to make sure there are no leaks and all aircraft surfaces and controls work.

As the aircraft taxis slowly toward the catapult, a V-2 Green shirt displays a black box sign with large numbers. This box shows the total weight of the aircraft. He shows it to the pilot and to the Catapult Launch Officer, commonly known as the “Shooter.” They both need to agree on the number: the weight that the Catapult officer will dial in for the amount of steam to be used for the launch.

When the plane is almost to the catapult shuttle, the Yellow shirt directs the pilot to drop the aircraft’s front tow-bar. He then guides the aircraft ever so slowly until the tow-bar drops into the slot on the shuttle.

The Yellow shirt directs the pilot to stop; a V-2 catapult crew member then checks the tow-bar placement in the shuttle. This same V-2 crewman inserts the “dog bone” into the holdback bar. The dog bone is a short metal bar that looks like a tiny dumbbell. Its tinsel strength matches the particular aircraft. The V-2 launch crewman signals another V-2 crewman to ease the shuttle forward. This takes up the slack and put tension on the holdback bar.

At this point, there are about eight to ten various crewmen around the plane constantly checking to make sure everything looks OK.

Aircraft Launch Workup

In the catwalk, a V-2 launch crewman mans the actual launch control console. Meanwhile, another catapult launch officer has to dial in the correct steam pressure for this particular aircraft and deck condition, which includes the aircraft’s total weight. If the pressure is too low, the plane will not have enough speed by the time it reaches the end of the flight deck and will probably end up in Davy Jones’ locker. If the pressure is too high, the sudden jerk may tear off the nose gear. Either way, it’s a bad day.

When everything is dialed in properly, the launch crewman holds both hands up, indicating to the Shooter he is ready to push the launch button when directed to do so.

The Yellow shirt moves to the inboard side of the aircraft, still in control of the plane. When everything appears to be alright, he directs the pilot with hand signals to go to full power, one arm straight up, the other pointing directly toward the bow. He then passes him over to the Shooter, who takes control over the actual launch.

The Shooter holds up his hand, waving two fingers back and forth (like a “big whoop-tee-do” motion). The breakaway link (“dog bone”) is strong enough to hold the plane at a standstill, even at full afterburner; it is the release of the steam into the catapult that causes enough force to break the dog bone.

One Last Check—Safety

The Shooter is checking everything and everybody. He wants to make sure before launching this multi-million dollar aircraft that the launch deck is clear, all personnel continue to signal a thumbs up, and the pilot is ready, in full throttle or afterburner. The pilot checks all his instruments and moves (“wipes”) all the aircraft control surfaces so the checkers on the flight deck can see everything works properly.

When the pilot is ready, he salutes the Shooter indicating everything from his viewpoint is ready. The pilot has the throttle at full power and is grabbing a bracket on the firewall (the “towel rack”) with his fingers so the throttle doesn’t pull back accidentally. Hopefully, he’s also taken his feet off the brakes.

At night instead of a salute no one will see, the pilot signals by turning on the aircraft’s exterior lights. The Shooter smartly returns the salute. The pilot sits back, putting his head back against the headrest because of the expected sudden onslaught of g-forces.

The Launch

The Shooter makes one more look-see, making sure the ship’s bow is either steady on the horizon or it is coming up. He doesn’t want to launch when the bow is going down—aircraft fly very well, but don’t waterski worth a damn.

He issues the launch signal, by squatting down and leaning sideways toward the bow and touches his twirling fingers to the deck, then points to the bow. At this point, the V-2 launch crewman presses the launch button and as the old saying goes, “away we go.”

The pilot experiences an instantaneous exertion of forces as the aircraft flies off the deck like a giant slingshot. By the time the plane travels three hundred feet to the end of the catapult, it has reached take-off speed, which can vary depending upon the aircraft, but upwards of 150 mph. Most aircraft pilots never get to experience this feeling, but Navy pilots have this edge; it is an adrenaline rush you won’t experience anywhere else.

The aircraft accelerates so fast down the deck, the blood in the forward part of the pilot’s eyes rushes to the rear and the pilot may experience slight tunnel vision. By the time the plane reaches the end of the catapult, he can barely see, but he knows it is a good cat shot. As soon as the plane breaks free of the deck, his vision quickly returns to normal.

The Pilot Knows

Pilots say if you don’t experience this tunnel vision, you might think about ejecting because there is only a split second from the end of the catapult to the water.

All the way down the deck, it is nothing but noise and vibration every foot of the way, but as soon as the plane is in the air, it becomes silent. Some pilots compare it to snow skiing—the difference between skiing on ice (noise and vibration) versus skiing in powder (quiet and smooth).

As soon as the pilot breaks the deck of the carrier, he banks to the left if shot off the port cat, or to the right if shot off the starboard cat. He raises his landing gear and accelerates until he reaches climbing speed. The first thing to do is to get into a climbing turn—he’s only sixty feet off the water.

Pilots are the most uncomfortable on the catapult because they have no control over the situation until they are airborne—they are at the mercy of the catapult until launch. Pilots describe catapult launches in different ways and the fundamental difference is between getting shot off a catapult on a bright, clear day versus launching during a dark and stormy night. Even with hundreds or thousands of hours of flight time, it is still a scary thing to get shot off at night with no visible horizon. You have to trust your instruments and pilots learn this in all kinds of combat situations. But no matter who you talk with, getting shot off a catapult is a walk in the park compared to landing on the carrier.  

And… We Do It All Over Again

Once the plane is off the deck, the V-2 launch crew member pushes another button on his console to retract the catapult shuttle, lower the JBD, and the Yellow shirt directs the next aircraft onto the catapult. From the time the aircraft initially reaches the catapult for launch until launched, the entire process only takes about twenty to thirty seconds.

And that, my dear friends, describes the excitement of launching aircraft off the flight deck of an aircraft carrier. After doing that for 16-18 hours a day, multiple flight ops cycles, and the continuous adrenaline rush we all experienced, it’s no wonder many of us flight deck veterans have a hard time standing still.

Well, maybe not everyone, but this old ABH (Aviation Boatswain’s Mate) does.

Until we meet again,
Andy

Previous Posts Mentioned in this Blog:

• #54—Westpac ’75 Aircraft Carrier Squadrons
• #30—USS Kitty Hawk @ Bremerton Shipyards, Part 1
• #83—Flight Deck “Skittles”
• #68—Flight Ops: Another Fine Day in the Navy!

Answers

1. Multiple Sources; too many to list. But I thought it was a great quote.
2. Braveheart (1995), William Wallace (Mel Gibson).
3. Leaving on a Jet Plane (1966), John Denver; written by John Denver.

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Andy Adkins is a US Navy veteran (’73-77) and the author of several books. His newest novel, NEVER FORGET, is the story of A Vietnam Veteran’s Journey for Redemption & Forgiveness. NEVER FORGET is FREE (eBook, PDF) for all veterans. Download your FREE copy HERE.