In 1958 I was a 23 year-old airman first class (three
stripper) stationed at Dover Air Force Base Delaware. I had been
flying for a little over a year as a flight engineer on the
C-124. Having reenlisted in early 1957, after a four-year stint
as a mechanic at Travis Air Force Base California, I had gone to
Chanute Air Force Base in Rantoul, Illinois where I instructed
for a while and then entered flight engineer school. I was quite
a bit below the required rank but my status as an instructor
enabled me to circumvent some of these rules. I was not only
below the rank requirements, (staff Sergeant), I was below the
minimum weight during the first physical. LOL. But I received a
waiver and finished the flight engineer school at the top of my
class.
I left Chanute and was assigned to Dover Air Force Base
Delaware on the C 124 in December 1958. The Wing that I was
assigned to at Dover had the task of supplying the DEW (distant
early warning) line stations out of Thule Air Force Base
Greenland. Naturally, my squadron schedulers saw the potential
of having a eager beaver, young, airman who was eager to learn,
accompany and assist older and more senior sergeants in their
duties. Especially outside in temperatures of minus 20--40°. I
think I flew my first 12 trips Thule during that winter. We
would leave early in the morning from Dover and fly to Ernest
Harmon Air Force Base Newfoundland, layover and spend the night.
Leaving the next morning for Thule. Flying over Baffin bay that
was full of ice.
It was an interesting approach up a fjord that allowed no go
around. The ground control approach people guided us in with a
precision approach radar (PAR). When on approach, they would ask
how each member of the crew wanted their steaks cooked. They did
this for appreciation of the fresh foods and mail that we bought
to keep them going.
Communication was very restricted in those days and naturally
the main lifeline was the mail.
After we landed, oil was diluted for five to fifteen minutes
or longer. This was a system that injected 115/145 octane avgas
directly into the oil return line into the oil tank. If we were
lucky, and space was available, they would put the airplane
inside the hangar. It was not warm but at least it was above
freezing. The preflight usually resulted in the junior man being
outside "on the leash", making all the responses to preflight
and start checklist items. Such as cowl flaps extended/retracted
to the maximum, propellers feathered, etc. etc. etc.. So guess
who that junior man was?
Finally it turned to spring and I managed to get several
trips to Europe . After approximately a year, I finished my
“second engineer” apprenticeship and was ready for qualification
as a first flight engineer. The first engineer was in charge of
the enlisted flight crew which usually consisted of 1-2 load
masters and at least a second engineer and possibly even a
third.
We had simulators at Dover that emulated the airplane and
they were devices to train for normal and emergency procedures.
Having passed my simulator upgrade check to first engineer, I
was scheduled for a line check. So this was being tested as the
real thing. It consisted of all the normal duties of the
engineer. Which included pre-flights/starting engines/operating
the engines/taking data/and all the other miscellaneous duties.
The trip I was able to secure to get this check ride was based
upon the seniority of my flight engineer examiner. Master
Sergeant Jim Durrell. He got us a trip from Dover Air Force Base
to Travis Air Force Base, layover and then down to Nellis Air
Force Base Las Vegas layover, then over to Long Beach,
California, OnLoad and then back to Dover Delaware
Another engineer was also getting his initial upgrade check.
So we rotated our duties. We traded the takeoffs back-and-forth.
Our load masters loaded the airplane to the maximum weight at
Long Beach with large cable drums full of wiring. Everything
was going beautiful until we refueled the airplane.
Part of the engineers job was calculating the maximum gross
weight for take off. Several things are factors which limit that
weight. One of which is a requirement that if we lose an engine
(because it failed for some reason) we are "guaranteed" a 500
feet a minute climb rate to get us out of trouble. Each engine
developed 3800 hp at 63 inches of manifold pressure and this was
with anti-detonation injection ( ADI ) (a alcohol and water
mixture used to lean the fuel mixture to best power while still
giving internal cooling). The outside air temperature directly
affected our ability to make horsepower and to climb. We made
this calculation but-- due to a mistaken entry, we put
approximately 5000 pounds extra fuel in our fuel tanks. Our
vigilant flight examiner noticed this error and both myself and
the other student suggested that "aw-- we've got plenty of
power, it'll fly just fine). So the only option we had was to
offload cargo (not possible) or offload fuel. You can imagine
the fuel people did not like this. It was a big pain because any
fuel offloaded had to be disposed of and could not go into
another airplane due to possible contamination. So we offloaded
the fuel. It was my partner's takeoff and I did the exterior
preflight/start duties outside the airplane and everything
looked normal.
After starting engines and coming on board my job was to ride
up in the upper hatch to look down on the wing tips to make sure
we didn't run into anything. We all liked the job because it was
cool, and fun. After coming inside and closing the hatch I
observed the run-up. During the run-up I looked over the
shoulder at my partner and the examiner. A complete check of the
ignition analyzer and all systems look great. As we went out on
the runway to line up for take off, I looked out the nose of the
airplane and saw the we had approximately a 2 mile visibility
and an indefinite ceiling. Southern California smog. I went
downstairs to watch the engines on takeoff. On the 7000 foot
runway we lifted off at approximately 4000 feet and began to
climb. Just beginning the climb there was a bang, and I looked
out and number three engine was being feathered. (Feathering
means the propeller instead of being in a fine pitch to produce
power is turned into the wind so that it does not produce drag
with no engine power) I leapt up the stairs, three at a time, to
the cockpit and told the guys what I had observed. There was
high-tension. We were still at max power/and the ADI pump was
still on. I knew that at this rate the fluid would not last
long. It was only meant for a few minutes on takeoff.
I looked out the window in the front and could see that we
were in the cloud. After a few moments the aircraft commander
called for a power reduction and started to ease the power back
to keep the temperatures in limits. Normal procedure, had we
been visual, would have been to make a left close traffic
pattern and return immediately and land. But because the
visibility was low we were following vectors given by the ground
controllers. Our altitude at this time was at approximately 500
feet. As they were bringing us around, they did not know or
understand what our altitude actually was. In those days ground
controllers had no way of knowing altitude other than by reports
from the cockpit. The pilots were too busy flying the airplane
to report anything. As we turned downwind, the pilots saw a hill
directly ahead of us. Signal Hill. There were oil derricks all
over the landscape. It is over 500 feet on the chart. We made a
rather steep turn to clear it and told the controllers. As we
made the turn from base to final, we see that the controllers
had brought us too far to the left of the runway to be able to
get over to the runway and land. Go around! The engineer
reluctantly puts the power up to the maximum. Red line or not,
we have to have enough power to fly.
By now, are three remaining engines are out of ADI,
temperatures are all in the red, the engineer wants to open cowl
flaps--but everybody knows that if we do, the airplane won't fly
with that added drag. It's just marginally hanging on now. The
engineer candidate is now really getting a test. He can create a
situation by opening the cowl flaps that will make it impossible
for the aircraft commander to keep the airplane in the air. The
examiner is sweating/my partner is jumping up and down in the
seat to see out the front window, I'm running up and down the
stairs to see if there's anything I can do. By now we have
descended lower and are now below the rugged ceiling of clouds
and we have visibility . Signal Hills not a problem this time as
we do not go out that far from the runway. And I see the runway
coming around and I thought man, we've got it made. I'm about to
breathe a sigh of relief.
On short final as we are about to round out for landing, the
tower calls--" YOUR RIGHT MAIN GEAR IS NOT DOWN--GO AROUND!"
Aircraft Commander calls Max Power Go around! The power, which
was only slightly reduced now goes back up. Temperatures now are
well within the red. Cylinder-head temperatures/oil
temperatures/all are well past maximum limits, heading for the
top of the instrument. Time goes into slow motion.
I know I can do nothing here--so I go downstairs and look out
the windows and I see now that we are not much over 100 feet. I
recall a school yard. Children looking up. I think of my
children. It is now desperate. Are we going to land with a
single main gear retracted?? That would surely cause the
airplane to cartwheel and with these fuel tanks nearly full-- we
will explode in a big fireball. All gear up?? I look out at the
landing gear and sure enough all three gear are down as we round
out and touch down. Normal braking and we slow down and taxi off
the runway.
My job at this point was to go up and look out the top hatch
for the taxi to ensure clearance. As we are taxiing in I see
that the fence is lined with workers from Douglas . Two and
three deep they were out to watch old shaky (a Douglas airplane)
giving her best. This was her home. The time from takeoff power
set to landing was 38 minutes. Slight reductions from Max power
only for a few seconds. Besides the failed engine, the other
three engines must now be changed having exceeded the 10 minute
limit at maximum power.
So what happened??
In analysis, we determined that our 500 foot a minute rate of
climb guarantee, disappeared as we climbed up into a temperature
inversion. Higher temperatures which meant lower power on the
three remaining engines. The Valley is famous for a cooler
temperature on the ground and higher temperatures above. We did
not have a way to calculate it even if we had known about it.
Just the opposite to what we would expect. We used the
temperature reported by the tower for all our calculations. The
higher temperature reduced the 500 foot a minute rate of climb
on three engines “guarantee”, to zero and even minus. That's why
we descended out of the cloud so that we were able to see Signal
Hill. And avoid it.
The landing gear?
The copilot who operated the landing-gear handle saw that we
were in trouble and elected to use an emergency procedure
incorporated into the fixture for the handle. A special door was
opened, and the handle was placed beyond normal down to
"emergency down". (A spring loaded tab that stopped the handle
in the down position and blocked the handle from going to the
bottom of the slot). Normal extension of the gear was that the
handle controlled a valve which sent hydraulic pressure to open
a uplatch on each main gear. And the gear, because of its weight
would fall into the down and locked position. But the emergency
down position was "supposed to" rip out the up latch and apply
3000 pounds pressure to the down piston to put to gear-down in
case of a jam up or a malfunctioning up latch.
It did not work as advertised because the copilot did not
hesitate at the normal down position to allow the up latch to
release. Our previously held belief that it would rip the up
latch out, turned out to be false.
The copilot was guilt ridden to the point that he refused to
fly back to Dover from Long Beach and instead took the train at
his own expense. We had a flight evaluation board meeting when
we returned to Dover (commercially) to analyze what happened.
The copilot resigned his commission and left the service and we
never saw him around the Squadron again. We were told that he
never flew again.
Playing a "what if" game--
Had we not taken that fuel off and reduce the weight??
Would the airplane have even maintained level flight??
Were engines-- abused like this --and operated above redline
temperatures for so long, able to “hang in there??”
Were we able to "undo" the landing-gear misapplications in
time to get it back on the runway??
What if we had not been able to see Signal Hill until "until
it was too late"??
What if the Aircraft Commander had not used extreme skill in
manipulating airspeed/ power??
Our angels were working overtime that day.
I still see the kids in the schoolyard.
