5.) Shooting Cadillacs
Somehow I was selected to fire a Maverick missile during a live fire demonstration. It was staged for success. Thanks to 50 mile visibility and the dark tank on the sandy desert I could pick up the target from miles away. I flew directly at the target at low altitude.
At about 4 miles out, I pulled up and then bunted over to point my nose at the target area. All I had to do at that point was put the HUD pipper near the target, look in the TV display in the cockpit which displayed what the Maverick’s camera was seeing, lock on to the tank, and fire.
Well, though the viz was 50 miles, there was a pesky rain shower along the path I had chosen to approach the target. The front windscreen on the A-10 is flat. The rain piled up on the windscreen making it impossible for me to make anything out through the HUD. I droned on for what seemed like 10 seconds but was probably on 3 until I left the rainy area.
The windscreen cleared in a few more moments, I picked up the tank, pointed at it, found it in the soda-straw view of the Maverick’s camera, locked on, and pressed the “pickle” button. More long moments passed and finally the Maverick whooshed off of the rail on my right wing.
I turned left and dove for the ground and didn’t see what happened. They tell me the Maverick, which at that time cost about $10,000 – the price of a new Cadillac, nailed the target.
6.) The Ground Always Wins
Back in Tucson, to get to the bombing ranges (due south of Gila Bend — a hundred miles from Tucson?) as soon as we were clear of controlled airspace, we dropped down low. There were published low level training routes that lead to the range but there were also MOAs (Military Operating Areas) and Restricted Areas that basically allowed us to fly wherever we wanted between Tucson and the four “conventional ranges” (bomb circle and range crew calling scores) and three “tactical ranges” (wide open country with plywood tanks and airplanes) that surrounded Ajo AZ.
In the early days we had a quick “step down” program where a pilot demonstrated that he could fly at lower and lower altitudes which got us down to 100’ AGL. We would fly that low at the tactical ranges, too: Fly behind some hills to a spot near where the bad guy tanks were, and then come busting out from between a couple of bumps at 100’ doing 300 knots until it “looked right” at which time we’d pop up to deliver our simulated high-drag bombs on a 15 degree dive pass, or better yet, a 5 or 10 degree strafing pass, then down in the weeds again for a hasty exit between the closest hills.
Even the students were flying at 100 feet by the time they were nearing the end of training. Until we started losing students. Three of them in the course of a few months as I recall. It usually happened on the tactical range which was generally unscripted shoot-em-up fun. A rookie might have been looking back to see where his bombs hit and didn’t notice the ground coming up fast.
Low level training went up to 500’ (which felt like a medium altitude cross-country) and it took a long time and much more intensive “step down” training before we were allowed down to 100’ again.
7.) Ridge Crossing
I came within a few seconds of becoming one of those low level statistics when I was flying back from the range one day. The Baboquivari Range, a north-south range – Kitt Peak and its famous telescopes are at the north end of this range, is about 50 miles southwest of Tucson.
We approached it from the west side as we flew home at low level. Normally we go around such a high range (several thousand feet higher than the desert floor) but that day we did a frontal assault. Up, up, up the west side and, before reaching the crest, I rolled over so I could pull the nose down as I crossed the ridge.
That all worked fine; however, when it came time to roll right side up again, I discovered that my roll rate was not as snappy as I expected it to me – due, no doubt, to much lower airspeed than I normally flew such maneuvers at while dodging the smaller hills in our low level playground.
Obviously, I did manage to get right side up before schmucking into the side of the mountain, but I will always remember that day as the time I almost bought the mountain.
8.) Acro in Manual Reversion
The A-10 has lots of survivability built in as Kim “KC” Campbell demonstrated back in April 2003 when she brought an A-10 back without any hydraulics. (Google “Killer Chick” to find plenty of reading about Captain Campbell’s adventure.) No hydraulics? No problem. Just fly on home thanks to Manual Reversion.
To familiarize pilots with what it’s like to fly in manual reversion, we did it on purpose. Flip a switch and you intentionally turn the hydraulics to all flight controls off. In manual reversion the stick moves the trim tabs in the opposite direction you are use to seeing things move. Stick right moves the right trim tab down, not up.
Through some sort of aerodynamic magic, when you move the trim tab down, the aileron goes up and viola, you get what you were expecting – a roll to the right. The main difference? No power steering. Very stiff controls. Very sluggish response.
One day I took a Lieutenant Colonel up (I was a Captain) on his 2nd or 3rd ride and per the syllabus we did the manual reversion exercise. He says to me over the FM “OK if I do an aileron roll?” “Why not?” I thought never having done such a maneuver myself before. “He’s an old head. He knows what he is doing.”
I thought. “Go ahead”, I said. Big mistake. He did the aileron roll. Thank goodness he pulled the nose up a bunch before he started. His roll rate was so slow that even with what I’m sure was full lateral throw on the stick, he ended up with the nose buried and rapidly building airspeed. Trouble is, high speed and manual reversion don’t get along too well.
He had a heck of a time pulling out of the dive, and I never let a student do something I hadn’t done before after that.
