The Mighty Warhawk Held the Lines Against Better Performing Axis Opponents.
The Curtiss P-40 Warhawk, first flown on October 14, 1938, is an American single-engine, single-seat, all-metal fighter. The Warhawk was used by most Allied forces during World War II, and remained in frontline service until the end of the war. A total of 13,738 P-40s were produced. Its production numbers are exceeded only by the P-51 and the P-47.
Image via USAF
More Than Just Available
The P-40 Warhawk was the most numerous fighter aircraft available at the beginning of WWII. The Lockheed P-38 Lightning, also available, could outperform the P-40, but the P-40 was less expensive, easier to build and maintain, and it was in large-scale production at a critical period in the nation’s history when fighter planes were needed in large numbers.
Another Low-Altitude Performer
Originally conceived as a pursuit (fighter) aircraft, it was very maneuverable at low and medium altitudes. But due to the lack of a two stage turbocharger, it was less effective at higher altitudes. At medium and high speeds, it was one of the tightest turning early fighters of the war. Like all Allied Fighters, at lower airspeed the A6M Zero could out-turn the P-40.
Image via USAF
What’s in a Name?
P-40 Warhawk was the fighter’s official United States Army Air Corps name. The British Commonwealth and Russian air forces used the name Tomahawk for models equivalent to the P-40B and P-40C, and the name Kittyhawk for models equivalent to the P-40D and later variants. P-40s first flew into combat with the British Desert Air Force in the North African campaign. It was also here that the aircraft was first given its distinctive “shark mouth” paint scheme.
Image via USAF
Finding a Niche
The P-40 performed surprisingly well as an air superiority fighter and ground attack aircraft. It performed well against early German Bf-109s, especially at lower altitudes, at times suffering severe losses but also taking a very heavy toll of enemy aircraft. The P-40 offered the additional advantage of low cost, which kept it in production as a ground-attack aircraft long after it was obsolete as a fighter.
Early P-40s in Formation (US Army Air Force Photo)
The Top Ace Tells It Like It Was
The highest-scoring P-40 ace with 22 kills, Clive Caldwell of the Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF), claimed that the P-40 had “almost no vices” and that it was “faster downhill than almost any other aeroplane with a propeller.” The P-40 had one of the fastest maximum dive speeds of any fighter of the early war period and good high speed handling.
Strengths Against Weaknesses
In another account, Robert DeHaven describes how to use the P-40’s strengths against the A6M Zero: “…you could fight a [Zero pilot], but you had to make him fight your way. He could out-turn you at slow speed. You could out-turn him at high speed. When you got into a turning fight with him, if you dropped your nose down so you kept your airspeed up, you could out-turn him. At low speed he could out-roll you because of those big ailerons on the Zero. If your speed was up over 275, you could out-roll a Zero. His big ailerons didn’t have the strength to make high speed rolls. You could push things, too. Because, if you decided to go home, you could go home. He couldn’t because you could outrun him. That left you in control of the fight.”
Image via USAF
Those Famous Flying Tigers
By far the most well-known of all Curtiss fighter groups was Clair Chennault’s American Volunteer Group (AVG), or “Flying Tigers,” in China. The AVG was equipped with 100 British Tomahawk aircraft. Although the shark mouth was first used in North Africa, the AVG’s exploits made it so famous that P-40 units all over the world began copying it from them.
P-40 Warhawk on Display at the National Museum of the U.S. Air Force (photo J. Richmond)
Excelling On Their Own
The AVG was not an Allied military unit, and all pilots and ground personnel were volunteers, helping to defend China from Japanese attacks. Flying their first combat mission on December 20, 1941, the Flying Tigers operated under extremely difficult conditions. Their exploits were chronicled in the book Flying Tigers: Claire Chennault and the American Volunteer Group, (Daniel Ford, Harper Collins, 1941). During a period in the war when everybody else in the Far East was being soundly defeated by the Japanese, the Flying Tigers’ achievements were truly phenomenal.
P-40 Warhawk at the National Naval Aviation Museum (Photo J. Richmond)
Warhawks Today
Today, more than 20 P-40s are still airworthy and examples and flight demonstrations can frequently be seen at major airshows. Many more can be seen at aviation museums. Both the national Naval Aviation (Pensacola) and Air Force (Dayton) museums have examples on display.
How a design flaw and sketchy winter-time conditions put the MD-80 pilots in a bad spot.
Back in March of last year, a Delta MD-80 slid off the runway in a snow storm at LaGuardia. The aircraft was heavily damaged but there were no injuries. I wrote about that incident here.
To recap, the MD-80 landed in really lousy visibility during a snowstorm and slid off the side of the runway and almost into Flushing Bay. While the approach and landing were normal, the aircraft drifted off the left side of the runway after landing, eventually hitting the airport perimeter fence and coming to a rest on the berm that borders the airport and the water.
Since the winds were not particularly strong, my first guess was that the problem might have been a braking problem, but that was not the case. The NTSB recently concluded their investigation of the incident and have blamed the accident on an obscure directional control characteristic of aircraft with tail mounted engines known as “rudder blanking” along with the pilot’s reaction to that effect. The full accident report can be found here.
Design Flaw
Inherent in the design of turbine powered MD-80 with tail mounted engines and thrust reversers is an effect known as rudder blanking. Shortly after touchdown, pilots command the thrust reversers open using levers located on the throttles. On the MD-80, the aircraft involved, baffles actually close over the exhaust of the engines and redirect the thrust to the sides and forward of the engine. This redirected thrust helps to slow the aircraft.
The problem with this configuration is the location of the engines on the rear fuselage near the tail of the MD-80. The redirected thrust also has the effect of reducing the relative wind over the vertical stabilizer and rudder. Reducing the air over the rudder reduces its effectiveness. The reduced rudder effectiveness combined with the crosswind allowed the aircraft to depart the left side of the runway and to hit the boundary fence.
Boeing (which purchased McDonnell Douglas, the manufacturer of the MD-80) was aware of the flaw and recommended that reverse thrust was not to be used at full power during landing. Boeing recommended a further restricted use of reverse thrust when landing on a runway “contaminated by clutter” which is aviation-speak to mean a buildup of snow or slush.
Here’s an excerpt from the Flight Operations Bulletin published by Boeing:
Due to the geometry of the MD-80 thrust reversers, the exhaust gas efflux pattern will, at certain rollout speeds and EPR settings, interfere with the free-stream airflow across the rudder surfaces. This will result in partial “rudder blanking”; with a resultant reduction in directional control authority. As rudder effectiveness is more critical on wet or slippery surfaces, “rudder blanking” becomes a concern above a reverse thrust level of 1.3 EPR. Normal dry runway maximum reverse thrust power is 1.6 EPR [emphasis in original].
Will the Brakes Stop the Airplane on the Runway?
Another concern of the crew was the “braking action” on the runway. This is also aviation-speak to mean the slipperiness of the pavement. The crew had heard reports that the braking had been reported as “fair” which meant that they would not have been able to stop the aircraft on the runway and would have needed to divert. Later on in the flight, the braking action had been reported as “good” by another airliner and the crew made the decision to continue.
The problem with braking action reports by other aircraft is that they are highly subjective. Some pilots make the determination by how many times their anti-skid cycles during a landing. Others use different criteria and each aircraft can respond differently to the same conditions. One pilot’s “fair” report can easily be another’s “good”.
Weather and runway reports from the airport itself indicated that the runway was covered with 1/4 inch of wet snow. The runway had recently been swept, but by the time Delta 1086 landed, it was already white in appearance from new snowfall.
So you can see that as a minimum, this crew was concerned that they didn’t have much room for error on this landing.
The Friction Measuring Trucks Were Parked
As far as the actual condition of the pavement, airport authorities have been using friction measuring equipment for decades. So what was the actual friction measurement at the time Delta 1086 landed? No one knows. Due to bureaucratic ambiguity and confusion between FAA directives and the New York Port Authority, the Port Authority elected to not use either of the two trucks it had available to measure runway surface friction.
From a bureaucratic point of view this makes perfect sense as you can be held liable for inaccurate or missing reports if your policy was to collect them. Change your policy to keep the trucks parked and you’re off the hook. This works best for bureaucrats sitting in heated offices, but not so well for passengers landing in a snowstorm. But it’s completely legal.
On the Edge of Safe
So in essence, the story so far is that the MD-80 landed in 1/4 mile of visibility in a snowstorm on an extremely short runway bounded on three sides by water with an essentially unknown slickness of the pavement.
As a reminder, a quarter mile of visibility is 1320 feet and a touchdown speed of 140 kts is about 236 feet per second. This gave the pilot about five and a half seconds of time between seeing the runway and landing on it. And according to the flight recorder, the touchdown was well within the landing zone and on speed.
What happened next was measured in seconds. Here’s the synopsis from the NTSB report:
During a postaccident interview, the captain stated that, as he was lowering the airplane’s
nose to the ground after main gear touchdown, he moved the thrust reversers to idle and then “one knob width on the reverser handle” to obtain Delta’s target setting of 1.3 engine pressure ratio (EPR).16 FDR data showed that engine reverse thrust exceeded 1.3 EPR between 3 and 4 seconds after main gear touchdown (with the left engine exceeding 1.3 EPR before the right engine) and was advancing through 1.6 EPR immediately after the nose gear touched down. FDR data showed that the EPR value exceeded 1.6 for 5 seconds, reaching maximum EPR values of 2.07 on the left engine and 1.91 on the right engine between 6 and 7 seconds after main gear touchdown. Engine power decreased after this point, and the thrust reversers were stowed at 1102:25 (7.5 seconds after deployment, 9 seconds after main gear touchdown, and 2,500 feet from the runway threshold) at an EPR value of 1.8 on the left engine and 1.6 on the right engine. At that time, the airplane’s groundspeed was 93 knots.
In plain-speak, the pilot used reverse thrust in excess of the recommended amount for a total of five seconds and then stowed the reversers. The aircraft started to drift left at six seconds after touchdown, or three seconds before the reversers were stowed. This meant that it was in the three seconds between the time the aircraft started to drift and the time the reversers were stowed that the problem occurred.
To further complicate the landing, the aircraft by this time had slowed to 93 knots. At this speed the rudder itself loses effectiveness as there is not enough air moving over the surface to keep the aircraft on the runway. Other than the rudder, directional control of an aircraft on the ground is obtained through the use of nosewheel steering and differential braking. Both of these were used but were not effective enough to get the aircraft under control.
(Photo by NYPD)
No Win Situation
Pilots are goal oriented people. We like to get the job done. But we are also called upon to get the job done correctly and are tasked with being the final arbiters of safety. To this end, we are given the tools and the criteria to use those tools correctly. But when some of the supposedly objective information we have turns out to be highly subjective and incomplete, the process becomes a crapshoot.
In my view, these guys were set up. They were told that if the braking was “good” they could land, but if it was “fair” they’d go for a swim. So for a few seconds the pilot overcompensates with too much reverse thrust and they nearly go swimming anyway. Another MD-80 had landed minutes before and had no problem while also exceeding reverse thrust limits. These guys just got hit with an unlucky gust of wind.
The whole idea of risk management is to make sure that the operation does not become a crapshoot. Had these pilots diverted when the “system” said they could make it safely and other airplanes were landing, they’d be questioned by their chief pilot and ridiculed by their passengers. Now they’re probably wishing they had diverted. A three second and immediately corrected deviation from SOP during extreme conditions should not result in a major accident.
In the appendix to the accident report, board member Robert Sumwalt, himself a retired airline pilot, had this to say about the situation facing the captain:
As a former airline pilot for over 20 years, I’m confident saying that having to limit reverse thrust on a relatively short, slippery runway is counter-intuitive: When you need it the most, you have to use it the least.
So the next time your pilot diverts or goes around when others are landing, you will be frustrated or angry that you don’t get to your meeting or home on time. Don’t be. The guy or gal up front is trying to get you where you’re going, but also trying to keep you alive.
Addendum: A Few Words about the The NTSB
I’m going to take a moment to say a few words about the NTSB. Good words. The NTSB in my view is a national treasure. They are staffed with a group of smart and thoughtful professionals who take the time to get to the bottom of the accidents they investigate. And while they don’t have any real regulatory power to force changes, nor do they make economic cost-benefit assessments of their various proposals, their recommendations often serve as signposts to be disregarded by industry and regulators at their peril.
Editors Note: The top photo of this article was taken by Leonard J. DeFrancisci. It is used with permission according to the CC 4.0 license.
The T-38 is a beautiful machine that is nearing the end of its service life over the next 5-7 years. A T-X competition is underway to determine its replacement. Our resident aviator, shares his fascinating memories of T-38 training.
In 1970, Air Force flight training was divided into three phases, primary flight in the Cessna T-41 (Cessna 172), primary jet in the Cessna T-37, and advanced jet in the Northrop T-38 Talon. I survived—actually passed—the first two phases. With six months to graduation, we transitioned to the T-38.
The T-38: A White Rocket
The T-38 Talon is a two-seat fast-jet trainer capable of supersonic flight. (USAF Photo)
The T-38, or “White Rocket,” was an entirely new flying experience. It is a tandem two-seat, twin-jet, advanced “fast-jet” (supersonic) trainer with a top speed of 1.3 Mach (speed of sound) and maximum G-load of plus 9.0, i.e., the airframe could withstand load forces equal to nine times the force of gravity.
Our training program called for approximately 90 hours in the T-38, including initial aircraft training, two-and-four-ship formation flying, instrument flying, supersonic flight, night flying, and low-level high-speed navigation. Basic flight included all of the maneuvers that we had learned in the T-37, but the responsiveness of the T-38 and the physical sensations were entirely different.
Powered by a G-Suit
For one thing, a “G-suit” was added to our gear. The G-suit, worn over our flight suit, looked like a cross between cowboy chaps, and tight-fitting jeans with holes cut in the knees and the seat. It had an 18-inch hose sprouting from the waistband. Once in the aircraft, the hose was plugged into a port in the aircraft. When maneuvering the aircraft at forces above 1.0 G, compressed air was pumped into the G-suit so that it squeezed on the legs and around the waist to force blood back up into the upper part of the body—i.e., head—to prevent the pilot from blacking out during high the G-forces.
In addition to the G-suit, pilots can perform an “M-1” maneuver that will provide some relief from G-forces. The M-1 maneuver requires tightening all of the muscles of the abdomen and legs—and usually involves a specific type of breathing that sounds kind of like grunting.
There is nothing like flying 600 knots while only three feet away from another aircraft. (USAF Photo)
This also requires that I explain what “blacking out” means—it does not mean becoming unconscious. The most oxygen sensitive organs of the body are the eyes. If the eyes are deprived of oxygen even briefly, color vision is the first capability lost—everything becomes black and white. Increase the G-force, and the field of vision shrinks inward from the outer edges creating, in effect, tunnel vision. Continue increasing the forces, and vision is lost—at this point the pilot is fully conscious, just cannot see, i.e., blacked out. Further increase the G-force can lead to unconsciousness. Interestingly, if the pilot releases some of the G-force, the field of vision increases again. Therefore, it is possible to control the G-force to permit some control of vision.
In the G-meter shown above, the needle pointing to “1” (between 0 and 2) is the current G-force on the aircraft. In straight and level flight, the G-force is “1,” i.e., on time the force of gravity (zero would be weightless). The upper needle indicates the maximum positive g-force the aircraft has experienced on the current flight. The lower needle indicates highest negative G-force (imagine going over a hill fast and being “lifted” out of your seat—that is negative G)
T-38 G Envelope from Jeff’s archives.
In basic flight, the average pilot can withstand up to 3 Gs before blacking out. Performing the M-1 maneuver will increase the pilot’s tolerance to about 4 Gs. The G-suit can extend tolerance another two Gs. So, a properly trained pilot in an aircraft equipped with a G-suit system can function through six Gs. Keep in mind that the T-38 is engineered to operationally withstand +7.33 sustained Gs. While more modern jets like the F-16 have reclined seats along with G-suits, the T-38 didn’t have that luxury. So famous 9 G turns in a T-38 weren’t possible and because of structural limits weren’t ever attempted.
Time for the Pre Check Flight
Jeff’s notes from his T-38 training flights back in 1970.
After the first 20 hours of flying the T-38, I had qualified to fly solo. That meant I could takeoff, fly around a little, and come back and land—these were the easiest skills required for the T-38. For example, to take off, you simply pulled onto the runway, pushed the throttles (two) to full forward, that is maximum thrust. The aircraft practically leaped forward, and in about 2000 feet the speed was 250 knots (about 280 mph) and the aircraft was climbing at 2000 feet per minute.
Landing was not much harder (although it took a few flights to begin to believe that). Once the jet was lined up with the runway, you simply flew the aircraft at the prescribed speed and attitude and waited for the runway. Eventually, you learned just when to raise the nose a bit and touchdown smoothly.
Instructor flights consisted of reviewing and honing our skills on all of the maneuvers we had learned, as well as demonstrating we knew the steps—by memory—to respond to any emergency that might occur. Our maneuvers included level flight, turns, steep turns, rolls, and loops, and combinations of these. These were called confidence maneuvers, i.e., instill confidence in the student pilot that he was in control!
I actually enjoyed all of the maneuvers, especially loops and rolls. In the T-38, the loop was supposed to be a 5-G maneuver. I was not really comfortable with the G-forces, and tended to fly the loop at a more relaxed 4-Gs. This makes the maneuver a big, lazy vertical circle in the sky—it is great for looking out and seeing the world from upside down at the top of the loop. Not good for dogfighting—good way to get shot down.
Once we soloed, we would fly one lesson with our instructor and one solo to practice what we had learned. At some point in this initial training we would have a proficiency check ride with one of the check pilots from the evaluation group.
Prior to our check rides, the commander or one of the senior officers in our training group would conduct a pre-check flight to ensure we were ready for the check ride.
Our class commander (we’ll call him Major Paladin to protect—me) was my pre-check flight pilot. He was a no-nonsense major, about five feet five inches tall, with a dark, rough complexion, a thin dark moustache, and a perpetually fresh crew cut. He had been an F-100 Super Sabre (fighter) jock (fighter pilots like to be called “jocks”) in Viet Nam before coming to the flight training command. He spoke little, and expected me to conduct the flight with him as an “interested passenger.” Recall that the T-38 is tandem seating—he sat in the back—in a separate cockpit. He could see the top of my helmet; I could not see him at all.
We collected our gear and went out to the assigned aircraft. I completed the usual preflight inspection. He was already strapped in as I climbed in the front cockpit. I started the aircraft, got the needed clearances and taxied out to the runway and took off. Occasionally, Major Paladin would ask a question—something about the aircraft such as a maximum speed, procedures, etc., all the while I cruised out to the practice area. I checked in with our command post (area confirmation) and began my routine.
A student and his instructor preparing for their next flight. (USAF Photo)
Somewhere in the routine—I think it was when I was upside down in a roll, he closed one of the throttles to idle and announced that I had a simulated engine failure. I was supposed to recite and perform the emergency procedures for an engine failure and demonstrate that I could control the aircraft on one engine (the other at idle speed was useless). When that was completed he simply said, “Continue.” I set up for a loop, eased the throttles forward, and raised the nose powering up the firsts half of the loop. It was my typical 4-G loop. We came across the top, inverted, enjoying the view and then more back pressure on the stick, ease the throttles back, and dive down the back side of the maneuver.
As I returned to level flight, the intercom cracked open. “Lieutenant Richmond, you’re such a wimp, I don’t even plug in my G-suit when I fly with you! The loop is supposed to be a 5-G maneuver. Minimum.” There was some emphasis on the last word.
There I was…
“Yes, Sir” I responded. I could feel my face flush inside my helmet.
“You have got to make the airplane do what you want it to do!” He added. “Fly it or yourself to the limit.”
Now I was really fuming. But of course, I could not say anything but, “Yes, Sir.” I paused, thinking. “Ah, Sir, may I try that again, Sir?”
“Yeah, go ahead, we have plenty of time.” He sounded bored.
Once again I set up for the loop. Entry speed was supposed to be 500 knots minimum. I eased the speed up to 540 knots. Then I pushed the throttles forward to full military power and pulled—firmly, but steadily—back on the control stick and immediately pegged the G-meter at “5.” The airplane bolted up in a tight arc. I continue to pull back on the control stick. The G-meter edged up toward 6 as I came across the top of the loop inverted. My G-suit was pumping away and I was squeezing my abdomen (without grunting!—I did not want to make it sound like it was any effort for me). As the nose started down the back of the loop, I pulled a little more. I lost color vision; then as I pulled a bit more, the field of view got smaller and smaller until all I could see was the big round attitude indicator in the middle of the instrument panel. I held that pressure.
By now I figured I was going to be in real trouble, but the deed was done. There was no comment from the back seat. I regained some composure and finished the rest of my routine and was getting set up to return to the base. About that time, he came on the intercom, “Okay, Lieutenant, take us back to the base.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He instructed me to make two touch-and-go landings and then a full stop. I acknowledged his instructions and heard nothing more from him. The ground crew guided me into the parking spot, I shut down the engines and we got out of the aircraft.
As we walked to the crew bus I was preparing to be told I was “out of the program.”
Finally, he spoke, “Well, Lt Richmond, you might make it after all. You blacked me out you son-of-bitch!” And he smiled.
What he wanted was to see me exercise positive, firm, aggressive control over the aircraft. He did not care about smooth, or comfort. He wanted the airplane put where it was supposed to be—now!
Also, I got over being uncomfortable with high-G maneuvers.
Editors note: The original post had incorrect G limits and loop parameters. We’re impressed that Jeff can remember most of this 45 years later. I can’t even remember what I ate for breakfast. And he still has his UPT checklists!
Beginning in 2003, the US Air Force’s Air Education and Training Command (AETC) set its sights on replacing the T-38 Advanced Jet Trainer. The T-38 first flew in 1959, and became operational in 1961. More than 1100 aircraft were built. The T-38 is still the Air Force’s advanced jet trainer for Joint Specialized Undergraduate Pilot Training (JSUPT). The aircraft will probably remain in service through the early 2020s, giving it an operational life span of more than 60 years.
The T-38: The Air Force’s Advanced Jet Trainer since 1961. (USAF Photo)
The combination of aging airframes, budget restrictions, and increasing demands of the JSUPT to train for 5th Generation fighters, has created delays and changing requirements for the next generation of advanced jet trainers.
The feeling within the industry is that the Air Force cannot put off developing a new trainer for much longer. Current projections suggest that the new trainer should be selected by 2019 or 2020, and operational by 2023 or 2024. The Air Force has indicated that the initial order will be for 350 aircraft, but multiple sources suggest production could reach 1,000 aircraft or more. There is also some suggestion of a fighter-attack or other variants.
In spite of the schedule uncertainty, five manufacturing teams are positioning to offer a solution to the Air Force’s requirements for its next generation advanced trainer—the T-X.
Clean-Sheet Proposals
Boeing-Saab Entry
Boeing, partnering with the Swedish manufacturer, Saab, as recently as September of this year, rolled out its candidate for the T-X. Quoted in a Defense News article (Sep 13, 2016), Darryl Davis, president of Boeing Phantom Works, “Our T-X design features: twin tails, a modern design that allows better maneuverability than a single tailed aircraft, stadium seating that provides rear visibility to the instructor … and a maintenance friendly design. What you can’t see is the advanced design and manufacturing that went into this.”
Boeing also pointed out that this aircraft was “purpose-built” to meet the demanding requirements of the T-X program. While the Air Force requirements to not mention stealth or low-observability, many observers suggested that it’s appearance mimics design features of the F-22 and F-35.
Northrup Grumman Entry
Northrop Grumman is also working on a “clean-sheet design for its T-X trainer candidate. Observers have pointed out that their next-generation trainer somewhat resembles the T-38, which Northrop built in the 1960s. While few details have been release on its design, a flight test prototype has been built by Scaled Composites and has been undergoing high-speed taxi tests at that company’s facilities in Mojave, California. Flight test are expected later this year.
Northrop Grumman’s T-X prototype seen undergoing taxi test in Mojave, California. (Northrop Grumman)
Initially, Northrop Grumman had planned to partner with BAE Systems to propose an advanced version of the Hawk Advanced Jet Training System, but this was abandoned citing performance limitations.
Textron AirLand: Scorpion
Textron AirLand secretly built a prototype Scorpion at the Cessna plant in Wichita, Kansas facility in 2012, and it was first flown in 2013. The shoulder-wing aircraft is of all composite design, powered by two Honeywell TFE731 turbofan engines. It is suggested that Textron AirLand will offer some form of this aircraft design for the T-X. While this is a newly designed aircraft, its initial performance numbers do not seem to approach those anticipated for the T-X. For example, its maximum speed is 518 mph or .68 Mach, which is well below that required for the T-X.
The Textron Scorpion could become a T-X entry. (Photo by Tim Felce)
T-X Trainers Based on Existing Aircraft
Lockheed Martin and Korea Airspace Industries: T-50
Lockheed Martin and Korea Airspace Industries (KAI) are teaming to offer a significantly advanced modified and upgraded and version of the KAI’s T-50. Lockheed Martin has already opened a training center in South Carolina for both final assembly of the T-50A and the ground based training system.
Although based on the T-50 airframe, the T-50A features a blended wing-fuselage with horizontal and vertical stabilizers. It is purpose-built to meet the training requirements of fifth-generation fighters such as F-22 Raptor and F-35 Lightning II.
The T-50A is designed to offer fighter-like performance and characteristics to expedite pilot transition to 4th and 5th generation.
The KIA T-50 that will serve as the basic design concept for the T-50 T-X offered by Lockheed Martin and KAI. (Photo Kentaro Lemoto)
The T-50A is powered by a single General Electric F404 turbofan engine equipped with full-authority digital engine control (FADEC) system.
Raytheon/Leonardo/Honeywell Aerospace: T-100
Raytheon/Leonardo/Honeywell Aerospace will propose the T-100 which they claim the twin Honeywell Aerospace F124 engines will deliver best-in-class, thrust-to-weight ratio representative of today’s 4th and 5th generation fighters. The T-100 will feature a modern heads-up display and a fully integrated helmet mounted-display designed to prepare pilots for the advanced avionics used advanced tactical fighters.
The T-100 is based on Leonardo’s (formerly Alenia Aermacchi) MB-346, an advanced trainer and light attack aircraft first flown in 2004 and introduced into service in Italy in 2015.
The Alenia Aermacchi T-346A will be the starting point for the Raytheon/Leonardo/Honeywell Aerospace proposed T-X aircraft. (Alenia Aermacchi photo G.M. Azzellotti)
Summary
The finally competition may come down to a dogfight between brand new designs and adaptations of existing aircraft. New designs can focus entirely on the requirements for the new aircraft, but new designs are also subject to more growing pains. While existing designs start out with a proven aircraft design, the adaptations that are required to meet the new advanced performance goals can be challenging to back-fit into the existing airframe.
All of these competitors will propose complete training systems with ground trainers or simulators, training programs, and support facilities, providing the Air Force with a turn-key training system.
Assuming each of these aircraft can demonstrate Air Force performance goals, the selection will likely be determined by the lowest realistic lifetime cost of ownership.
Currently the T-X trainer does not appear in the DoD budget, but funding is expected to be requested in the next year or two, to get the competition and selection underway. It is unclear what affect the results of the 2016 Presidential elections will have on military budgets. Regardless of candidate claims, budget realities will certainly affect budgets and schedules.
T-X trainer selection could turn into a real dogfight.
Author’s Note
I trained in the T-38 in 1970. It was a good airplane, and although advanced for a trainer at the time, it was still a mechanical, analog aircraft—round gauges and all. And even with upgrades to new electronic cockpits, it is still a T-38 chassis. The transition from the T-38 to an F-35 Lighting II is roughly equivalent to moving from a 1960s stock car to a modern Formula 1 racer. The T-X will provide sufficiently advanced piloting training and experience to allow pilots to transition to the F-22 or F-35 with far lower training costs.
Logo jets are unique but they aren’t new. Most of the majors have had logojets for promotions. Airlines like Southwest led the trend with Shamu. They have had additional tie-ins with the NBA and Sports Illustrated. Other airlines like WestJet, Delta, and Alaska Airlines have had tie-ins with Disney. Now Disney has added a new airline to their advertising fold.
On Saturday, Hawaiian Airlines unveiled a Disney-themed logo jet for their new movie “Moana” which will hit theaters in November. The Airbus A330 jet features the characters from the new movie. This is the first of three specially-themed logo jets.
Photos are posted on Hawaiian Airlines Facebook page.
The De Havilland Comet 4’s “First Flight” Ended Up Being Its Swan Song Too!
On 4 October 1958 British Overseas Airways Corporation (BOAC) operated the first transatlantic jet service with the de Havilland Comet 4. BOAC was also the first airline to offer jet passenger service across Europe and into Africa operating the de Havilland Comet 1. Within two years, all Comet aircraft were grounded due to a series of four crashes, later determined to be from metal fatigue caused by pressurization/depressurization cycles. The Comet had square windows, and the corners of the window openings created an area of weakness that resulted in structural failure of the aircraft in flight.
De Havilland worked through several versions of the Comet, and by the time of the first transatlantic flight to the North America, BOAC was flying the Comet 4, that had been designed to be fail-safe. The fuselage structure was designed so that a crack in the skin was limited to a very small area, and therefore would not be a catastrophic failure.
BOAC comet 4. image via Olympis-kuva oyaa
The Fate of the Comet 4 as a Passenger Airliner was Already Determined Even Before That First Transatlantic Flight
While BOAC could claim initiating transatlantic passenger jet service, before the end of the same month, Pan American Airways (Pan Am) was flying the same route with the new Boeing 707 and later with the Douglas DC-8. The American-built planes were larger, faster, had greater range, and carried more passengers. Even before their first transatlantic flight, BOAC had made the decision to purchase the Boeing 707. With that, the fate of the Comet 4 as a transatlantic aircraft was sealed.
Launch the fleet! Procedure expedited takeoffs to get more B-52 jets in the air faster.
This clip shows a group of Boeing B-52G Stratofortresses executing a MITO (Minimal Interval Take Off). The objective: get off the ground! Faster! The planes roar skyward a mere 15 seconds apart, as two narrators have to hold onto their hats! It’s a smokey mess of bad ass airpower. SAC bases would practice these launches so that if the flag of war was ever raised, our nation’s Air Force would answer the call. Each B-52G carried cruise missiles and bombs, ready to strike the enemy with overwhelming force if directed.
This clip is actually from the movie, “A Gathering of Eagles” that starred Rock Hudson. It showcased the challenges of turning around a struggling unit. Col Caldwell, played by Hudson, will do whatever it takes (including being a hard-ass) to get his unit in tip-top shape.
The movie appears to be filmed at Beale Air Force Base. Today, Beale is home to KC-135R, U-2s, and Global Hawk UAVs.
The B-52G was a modification to extend the service life of the B-52 (affectionately known as BUFF: Big Ugly Fat Fucker), during delays in the B-58 Hustler program. Designers envisioned a radical new concept, with all new wings and Pratt & Whitney engines. The new plane had an increased fuel capacity and water injection, which added about a 17 percent power increase to assist with taking off. In addition, a pair of 700 gallon fuel tanks were slung under the wings. BUFF threw out the design book, scrapping traditional ailerons and using spoilers to control aircraft roll.
Roughly 744 B-52 aircraft (and their variants) were manufactured between 1952 and 1962. The B-52 is still (kicking ass!) in service today. However, almost every B-52G was destroyed in accordance with the Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty of 1992. As of 2012, only about 85 remain in active service. The others are in the boneyard, museum, or still flying in our dreams.
The world’s first drone was a crude cruise missile that could hit a target up to 75 miles away.
Germany’s V-1 “Buzz Bomb” was an early version of a cruise missile, but not the first! In 1918 during World War I, the US Army contracted Charles Kettering of Dayton, Ohio to design and build an “aerial torpedo” with the capability to strike targets up to 75 miles away, flying at a speed of 50 mph. Kettering hired Orville Wright as his aeronautical consultant for the development of what would be called the “Kettering Bug.”
The biplane design looked like a big model airplane, 12.5 feet long with a wing span of 15 feet. It was powered by a 40-horsepower, four-cylinder De Palma engine manufactured by Ford Motor Company. The airframe was made of wood laminates and paper papier-mâché. The wings were covered with cardboard.
Full-scale model of the Kettering Aerial Torpedo on display at the National Museum of the United States Air Force.
The aircraft was launched from a four-wheeled dolly-and-track system similar to that used by the Wright brothers for their first successful flights at Kitty Hawk.
The challenge was to be able to launch the aircraft and have it travel to, and strike, a specific target carrying 180 pounds of explosive. The challenge was to be able to control the aircraft’s track to the target. The solution was ingenious.
Prior to launch, technicians would plot the precise distance to the intended target and also determine the aircraft’s heading based on wind direction and airspeed. This information was used to determine the number of engine revolutions required to travel to the target.
The Kettering Bug was launched from a four-wheeled dolly on movable tracks.
Once launched, a small onboard gyroscope guided the aircraft toward its destination. To maintain altitude and direction, the system used a pneumatic/vacuum system, an electric control system, and an aneroid barometer/altimeter.
When the revolution counter reached the programmed value, a cam shut off electrical power to the engine. Another control retracted the wing-attachment bolts, releasing the wings. At this point the craft became a ballistic missile falling towards its target. The 180-pound explosive payload detonated upon impact.
The Kettering Bug during early testing
On its first test flight in Dayton, Ohio, the aircraft took off and climbed too steeply, stalled, and crashed. Adjustments were made and subsequent flights were successful.
Toward the end of World War I, the Army conducted a total of 24 test flights, seven of which were successful.
Although the Army spent some $275,000 developing the early drone, the Kettering Bug was never used in combat. Approximately 45 “Bugs” were produced. The existence of the Kettering Bug was kept secret until the beginning of World War II.
A full-scale replica of the Kettering Bug is on display in the “Early Years” Gallery of the National Museum of the United States Airforce.
And we thought drones and cruise missiles were a modern invention!
An uncanny resemblance to the United States Air Force’s B-1 Bone.
In 1972, in response to the United States Air Force’s B-1 Bomber project, the Soviet Union launched a competition to see which company could design the best multi-mission bomber. The idea was to create a new supersonic heavy bomber with variable geometry (in other words, “swing wing” capability), and a max speed of Mach 2.3. Get there fast, kick ass, come home. Fast. The Tupolev design won the competition, with its lengthened, blended wing layout and incorporation of elements from the Tu-144. Recently, the Tu-160 has been on the radar because the Russians are using it to bomb targets in Syria, on combat missions nearly 8,000 miles long!
This video footage, uploaded on April 16th of 2016, shows a Tu-160 Blackjack (NATO designation) in flight. The Tu-160 Blackjack, also known as the ‘White Swan,’ (Russian nickname) was the last strategic bomber produced for the Soviet Union. The Tu-160 was manufactured by the Tupolev Design Bureau. Not sure if they based the design on the Angel of death, or maybe that just happened on its own.
Watch the sleek, silver, majestic White Swan perform an aerial refueling mission. In the video, you’ll also see the air refueling probe that is stored in the nose rise in order to receive the gas. You can feel the tension as you get a great shot the pilot intently focused in the cockpit, then see several of these streamlined beauties flying in formation.
September 30 marks the 75th anniversary of the end of the Berlin Airlift, historically the first major showdown of the Cold War between the Soviet Union and the West.
World War II hand ended in 1945, and the Allies—the United States, the United Kingdom, France and the Soviet Union divided Germany into four occupation zones. The Soviets controlled the eastern portion of Germany, including the city of Berlin. Although isolated in the Soviet sector, the city was also subdivided into occupation zones. Initially, the Soviets Permitted highway and railroad access to the city. Stalin fully intended that Germany would become a part of the Soviet Union and blockaded rail and road access to Berlin, cutting off critical supply lines of food and fuel.
Berliners watch as a C-54 arrives in Berlin in 1948.
Three air corridors remained open, and in June of 1948, the west initiated “Operation Vittles” (the United States) and “Operation Plainfare” (United Kingdom), delivering food, fuel (coal and gasoline), and other essentials. Russia did not believe the airlift could adequately supply the city of Berlin expecting the city would submit to Soviet rule. The Soviet Union was more focused on its post war recovery, and did not challenge the airlift. Additionally, the western allies were still strong, and had demonstrated the use of nuclear weapons, and the Soviets were not prepared for direct conflict.
The American government, using 1,990 calories as a daily minimum per person and 2 million people in Berlin to feed, set a daily minimum of 1,534 tons of food stuffs including flour, wheat, meat and fish, dehydrated potatoes and vegetables, sugar, salt, coffee and powdered milk. Additionally, for heat and power, 3,475 tons of coal and gasoline were required daily.
The U.S. began the airlift with C-47 (DC-3) aircraft and then added C-54 (Douglas DC-4s). Because of the steeply angled floor of the tail-wheeled C-47, however, it took up to 30 minutes to unload a C-47, while a C-54 could be unloaded in as little as ten minutes. Several airports were limited to C-54 aircraft, which further accelerated the flow of supplies. Many other aircraft were also used, including Sunderland flying boats landing
The Spirit of Freedom, A C-54 operated by the Berlin Airlift Museum
The high volume of aircraft arriving in Berlin created significant traffic flow challenges, but by the end of the first year, aircraft were landing somewhere at Berlin airports every thirty seconds.
The high volume of aircraft operations and limited air traffic control created a hazardous operating environment. There were accidents, especially when poor weather caused landing accidents and the danger of midair collisions.
The Soviet blockade of Berlin ended in May of 1949, but airlift flights continued to allow the city to build up a reserve of supplies. Finally, the Berlin Airlift was officially ended on September 30, 1949.
The last Berlin Airlift flight showing the total tonnage delivered to Berlin during the airlift.
The Berlin Airlift officially ended on 30 September 1949, after fifteen months. In total the USA and United Kingdom delivered 17,835,727 tons, nearly two-thirds of which was coal, on 278,228 flights to Berlin. The Berlin Airlift aircraft flew more than 92 million miles in the process, almost the distance to the sun. At the height of the Airlift, one plane reached West Berlin every thirty seconds.
This video clip catches a rare behind-the-scene look at the dark side of aviation…attitude! Sure, most everyone keeps a running dialogue in the quiet of their own head of what they’d LIKE to say, but they don’t actually say it. Usually. Unfortunately, sometimes an open mic is left on, and that’s when the fun really begins! You just don’t hear pilots and air traffic controllers calling each other dreaded 4-letter words very often these days. Here are the 3 crazy situations you’ll see in this video.
The job of a pilot and the job of an air traffic controller are both very stressful. Combined with fatigue, parks occasionally fly. In Atlanta, we hear a ground controller attempting to help out a Delta flight that is about to join the wrong taxiway. Delta responds calmly, with a voice reserved for warding off grizzlies.
One pilot complained that he happened to have a lady with him at the moment, and that he found the words of the air traffic controller offensive. The controller replied by announcing that the comments had not been about the lady, but about someone else. Of course the comments were about someone else! Nobody knew the lady was there until the pilot mentioned it. It didn’t make the already bad situation any better.
Every once in a while you get a wiseguy… and I can’t tell if the Saudi pilot ‘just not getting it’ was baiting the controller. I mean, when there are only 9 possibilities and you guess 11 times—INCORRECTLY—that has to be on purpose, right?
Bottom line is that controllers do a hell of a job to keep people safe. Mistakes and bad days happen. We’re just glad that these pop-offs are relatively rare.
Cockpit view lets you feel the raw excitement of low level flight.
Experience the emerald green of British landscapes in this high-octane clip! This video footage, uploaded on May 13th of 2014, was filmed from the back seat of an RAF Eurofighter Typhoon, being flown by display pilot Jamie Norris. You get to hangout on board Europe’s premiere tactical combat platform, as they soar, swoop and just plain sizzle.
Jamie calmly walks us through his pre-flight checks, and gently guides his agile craft into the air. He rejoins on “lead,” (the other Typhoon) as they transition from high altitude to the low level environment. We hear him announcing that the weather is good, and the valley is clear. And then we are off for the races! Flying at less than 250 feet above the ground, both jets have to pull impressive amounts of G forces in order to remain within the safe confines of the valley. They are about as low as you’d dare to go, at speeds in excess of 450 knots! So low to the ground that you can plainly see the cars in people’s driveways and the fences that surround their yards. And maybe people waving…at the sound of freedom coming from those twin exhausts.
But why, you ask, would fighters be down in the weeds?
Great question—it’s about infiltration and avoidance. Up high, radar has a clear return. Low level, especially in mountains, there’s too much clutter in the way (thank you terra firma!). Plus, getting a straight shot at a twisting, bucking Typhoon? Fuhgeddabouttit!
The Eurofighter Typhoon is an aircraft with strike force capability. It is in service with six nations – the UK, Germany, Italy, Spain, Austria, and Saudi Arabia.
