falconvalley
Absentee Dad of the OOTSK, Runner, Cat Frustrator
I couldn't start this thread in the "You're the Captain..." forum for some reason wouldn't let me. So, I figured I'd post in here for all you mil-buffs.
Ok, here goes:
You're a new Aircraft Commander on the ever flying KC-135. It's the first night of major air operations over some foreign country that we're trying to liberate
. The Wild Weasels have cleared a path in-country for refueling tracks and your first sortie will take you, your crew, and the jet right into the mess. There have been reports of tracer fire and rumors that either an SA-6 or -7 SAM has been sighted in the air uncomfortably close to your assigned track. You know that every asset is needed to make the package work, so with a good working machine, you depart 5 minutes late (second airplane, the first broke halfway through the preflight so 5 minutes behind is pretty darn good, you'd like everyone to think). In the track, it's a beehive of literal confusion. There are airplanes EVERYWHERE and your copilot and boom operator can't get any thing in on the radio...too many people talking tonight. Fighter/bombers aren't even calling in for pre-contact anymore, they're just coming up and joining for fuel. The boom operator isn't recording tail numbers. Too many, too much to do. In fact, you're not sure if the right jets are meeting you. You just know that all the tankers are busy and your boom operator swears that she's seen the same F-18 more than once already. Unbelievable, they're going in for multiple runs.
You see a dashed line of light rising up in the distance. Someone's getting shot at. Hopefully it's someone who can maneuver easily and defend themself. You're currently tweeking the number 3 throttle. The number 3 has been running hotter than the other 3 engines for a few months. It's not critical yet, but the hot desert air isn't helping and the caution light for temperature came on before 60 knots on the runway. Not a good thing when you're heavy and you need 4 good motors for a safe departure, but the mission is critical, so the copilot adjusted the throttle until the light went out before S1 (V1 in civilian speak).
You stare at the gauges, wondering if the number 3 will make it through the deployment. Sure, there must be spare engines, but having to take one more jet off the schedule for maintenance only makes things more complicated for scheduling. The Crew Chief had mentioned that the spare was prepped and readied to be hung on the first jet that needed it. You relax, remembering mission scheduling and maintenance is outside your responsibility right now. You just need to determine if you can safety complete a sortie, safely with what you have and if number 3 has to go, there are people dedicated to doing exactly that and others will schedule a working airplane.
You've seen alot of this particular plane lately, which is unusual because it's a Guard jet and the Active Duty crews have been falling all over each other to fly the favorites. Must be the number 3 scaring them away...it really is a great jet.
A few light bumps in the air and you realize you haven't been paying attention to the busy other two in the airplane for a few seconds. A quick report reveals that a tanker has been lost, possibly shot down. Nobody knows. You look outside as autopilot begins another turn and the autopilot clicks off, AGAIN. Integration. Why won't they buy the new tankers? These things are 40 years of Frankenstein technology. We need equipment that was meant to work together. The copilot's gesture to you as he busily works out the latest coordination with the boom operator tells you all you need to know- You still have the flight controls. Your hands lightly grasp the big yoke and work away in the light chop. It doesn't actually feel heavy, like the peacetime callsign implies, but it does take a little persuasion. You push forward to maintain altitude. Handflying a contact is tricky. Even the aerodynamic bow of an F-18 makes a difference. Plus and minus 50 feet. Not bad, just keep it smooth and predictable. Ok, heading's good, no drift. The autopilot makes things so much easier. Just gotta keep this going until this 18's topped off, then I can try and recouple...
"Scram 7-6, Guard Dog, possible games in your area. Recommend random route."
SAMs. We're near an unkown site and they just turned their radar on. They're looking for US.
The 18's wingman suddenly peels off, letting flares go like it's the 4th of July and the other disconnects and does the same. "--ram 7-6. Up, up! 7-6 CLIMB $#%$%, MISSILE IN THE AIR!!!"
You're only half listening because you have the yoke jammed in your chest and the copilot's giving you as much power as 4 CFM56's, tuned for a 40-year-old airframe can put out without melting some serious turbine. The last transmission to you was probably one of your last customers getting a good look at a smoke trail and you're hoping their opinion was correct and that you don't need to try to juke a KC-135 in 3 dimensions. Maybe just climbing will clear us of danger. Deep down, you know that if you were it's original destination, there's no way of out climbing it. It has about 1200 knots over you already for sure.
You peer out the left side, and see nothing. It's a moonless night and YOU sure as heck can't see any smoke trail. **BAM** A short flash below. You level off and check with Guard Dog, to say you're ok. Guard Dog wants you to go back to the track. As the jet accelerates you reach for the throttles to at least set a lean cruise power for now to get everything in order again. The number 3 caution light is on again and this time you've exceeded 950c. There's no time limit for that high of a temperature, you've flat out overtemped. You really should be heading back and that radar sight is still out there, possibly with more available launchers to hurt you, though they likely left the radar on long enough to be pinpointed and the Wild Weasels nearby will soon be making the desert even hotter for them.
What if there's more of them?
You've definitely got enough fuel to finish the sortie, but you don't want to push your luck. Too many hazards, now. The boom operator isn't answering on the interphone. The copilot is worried she hit her head as you broke away from the contact and climbed. You're about to call in and say you're gonna declare an emergency and head back when the boom operator chimes in, obviously slurring her words and slow, but conscious enough to be wondering why she lost her freakin' receiver. The next customers show up at your track and one of them is bingo fuel, having spent it leaving the last run in a hurry. There's no other tanker available...
Alright, you're the PIC. Have fun :sitaware:
Ok, here goes:
You're a new Aircraft Commander on the ever flying KC-135. It's the first night of major air operations over some foreign country that we're trying to liberate
. The Wild Weasels have cleared a path in-country for refueling tracks and your first sortie will take you, your crew, and the jet right into the mess. There have been reports of tracer fire and rumors that either an SA-6 or -7 SAM has been sighted in the air uncomfortably close to your assigned track. You know that every asset is needed to make the package work, so with a good working machine, you depart 5 minutes late (second airplane, the first broke halfway through the preflight so 5 minutes behind is pretty darn good, you'd like everyone to think). In the track, it's a beehive of literal confusion. There are airplanes EVERYWHERE and your copilot and boom operator can't get any thing in on the radio...too many people talking tonight. Fighter/bombers aren't even calling in for pre-contact anymore, they're just coming up and joining for fuel. The boom operator isn't recording tail numbers. Too many, too much to do. In fact, you're not sure if the right jets are meeting you. You just know that all the tankers are busy and your boom operator swears that she's seen the same F-18 more than once already. Unbelievable, they're going in for multiple runs.You see a dashed line of light rising up in the distance. Someone's getting shot at. Hopefully it's someone who can maneuver easily and defend themself. You're currently tweeking the number 3 throttle. The number 3 has been running hotter than the other 3 engines for a few months. It's not critical yet, but the hot desert air isn't helping and the caution light for temperature came on before 60 knots on the runway. Not a good thing when you're heavy and you need 4 good motors for a safe departure, but the mission is critical, so the copilot adjusted the throttle until the light went out before S1 (V1 in civilian speak).
You stare at the gauges, wondering if the number 3 will make it through the deployment. Sure, there must be spare engines, but having to take one more jet off the schedule for maintenance only makes things more complicated for scheduling. The Crew Chief had mentioned that the spare was prepped and readied to be hung on the first jet that needed it. You relax, remembering mission scheduling and maintenance is outside your responsibility right now. You just need to determine if you can safety complete a sortie, safely with what you have and if number 3 has to go, there are people dedicated to doing exactly that and others will schedule a working airplane.
You've seen alot of this particular plane lately, which is unusual because it's a Guard jet and the Active Duty crews have been falling all over each other to fly the favorites. Must be the number 3 scaring them away...it really is a great jet.
A few light bumps in the air and you realize you haven't been paying attention to the busy other two in the airplane for a few seconds. A quick report reveals that a tanker has been lost, possibly shot down. Nobody knows. You look outside as autopilot begins another turn and the autopilot clicks off, AGAIN. Integration. Why won't they buy the new tankers? These things are 40 years of Frankenstein technology. We need equipment that was meant to work together. The copilot's gesture to you as he busily works out the latest coordination with the boom operator tells you all you need to know- You still have the flight controls. Your hands lightly grasp the big yoke and work away in the light chop. It doesn't actually feel heavy, like the peacetime callsign implies, but it does take a little persuasion. You push forward to maintain altitude. Handflying a contact is tricky. Even the aerodynamic bow of an F-18 makes a difference. Plus and minus 50 feet. Not bad, just keep it smooth and predictable. Ok, heading's good, no drift. The autopilot makes things so much easier. Just gotta keep this going until this 18's topped off, then I can try and recouple...
"Scram 7-6, Guard Dog, possible games in your area. Recommend random route."
SAMs. We're near an unkown site and they just turned their radar on. They're looking for US.
The 18's wingman suddenly peels off, letting flares go like it's the 4th of July and the other disconnects and does the same. "--ram 7-6. Up, up! 7-6 CLIMB $#%$%, MISSILE IN THE AIR!!!"
You're only half listening because you have the yoke jammed in your chest and the copilot's giving you as much power as 4 CFM56's, tuned for a 40-year-old airframe can put out without melting some serious turbine. The last transmission to you was probably one of your last customers getting a good look at a smoke trail and you're hoping their opinion was correct and that you don't need to try to juke a KC-135 in 3 dimensions. Maybe just climbing will clear us of danger. Deep down, you know that if you were it's original destination, there's no way of out climbing it. It has about 1200 knots over you already for sure.
You peer out the left side, and see nothing. It's a moonless night and YOU sure as heck can't see any smoke trail. **BAM** A short flash below. You level off and check with Guard Dog, to say you're ok. Guard Dog wants you to go back to the track. As the jet accelerates you reach for the throttles to at least set a lean cruise power for now to get everything in order again. The number 3 caution light is on again and this time you've exceeded 950c. There's no time limit for that high of a temperature, you've flat out overtemped. You really should be heading back and that radar sight is still out there, possibly with more available launchers to hurt you, though they likely left the radar on long enough to be pinpointed and the Wild Weasels nearby will soon be making the desert even hotter for them.
What if there's more of them?
You've definitely got enough fuel to finish the sortie, but you don't want to push your luck. Too many hazards, now. The boom operator isn't answering on the interphone. The copilot is worried she hit her head as you broke away from the contact and climbed. You're about to call in and say you're gonna declare an emergency and head back when the boom operator chimes in, obviously slurring her words and slow, but conscious enough to be wondering why she lost her freakin' receiver. The next customers show up at your track and one of them is bingo fuel, having spent it leaving the last run in a hurry. There's no other tanker available...
Alright, you're the PIC. Have fun :sitaware:
