USAF Pilot Instructor Training was an intense eight-week course covering all phases of flight training. The T-37 and T-38 student pilot training programs were similar in content. Both consisted of three phases that began with instrument procedures, or how to fly the airplane on the gauges. Then came the contact phase, which concentrated on takeoffs, landings and aerial maneuvers. The third phase was formation: two, three, and four ship.
Our training syllabus for the T-38 instructor course followed the three phases. Relearning to fly the airplane was a joy. The key to flying this or any airplane was to stay ahead of it mentally. The faster the airplane, the further ahead you had to be. The T-38 entered the visual overhead-landing pattern at 300 knots. If you hadn’t planned your pitchout, final turn, touchdown and rollout, you were behind the airplane and may be forced to go around; all due to poor planning.
I quickly re-acclimated to the plane and was soon comfortable with the much faster pace. The difficult part was factoring instruction into flying. It wasn’t good enough to simply stay ahead of the airplane. I had to learn how to tell a student what we were going to do, then demonstrate it, and then have him repeat it. All this had to be done while zipping along at 400 knots. Sometimes my most carefully crafted instructor spiel on a particular maneuver would just disappear as I struggled to keep the plane in its assigned area. Flying areas were assigned to specific flights. These areas were based on defined radials and distances from navigational aides. These areas were pie-shaped, usually 25 to 30 miles wide and 10,000 feet thick, meaning we flew between 10,000 to 20,000 feet.
There were specified departure and arrival tracks and strict control of area assignments. The procedures were in place to keep airplanes separated, but the ultimate responsibility for separation rested with the pilot. In addition to instructing, flying, and staying ahead of the airplane, I had to keep my head on a swivel looking for traffic conflicts. I remember several training rides at Randolph in which my carefully constructed dialogue abruptly halted as we started to bust out of our area. When this happened I had to calmly regroup and start over from the beginning. This was a humbling experience but it happened to all instructor trainees and I didn’t let it affect my attitude.
Chapter 4
The T-38 has front and rear seating, known as tandem seating. The student usually sits in the front with the instructor in the back. The only exception to this was instrument training. During this phase, the student sat in the back, under a hooded canopy. This hood was a canvas covering that ran the length of the canopy. Pulled forward, it blocked out the outside world forcing the student to fly using only the instrument panel. When not in use, the hood could be moved back behind the ejection seat.
My usual seat was in the back. I liked it back there. I sat up a little higher than the front seater and had a clear view of everything, with one exception. In the normal landing attitude, with the wing flaps down, I could see the runway over the head of the front seater. When practicing no flap approaches, while simulating a flap failure, the nose of the airplane was much higher, making it hard to see the runway. The only way to stay aligned was to shift my view from left to right, constantly making small adjustments to stay on the centerline. This ability to land the airplane by looking out the side would prove invaluable later in my career.
Instructor candidates came from varied backgrounds. We all agreed that the most challenging flying was in formation. Formation flying is a counter-intuitive exercise. During your flying career you do all you can to avoid hitting other airplanes. The object in formation flying is to get very close to the lead aircraft — three feet — and stay there until told otherwise. The correct position is an extended line off the leader’s leading wing edge. If you draw that line out, your proper position as wingman results in a three-foot separation between the planes. Number two can be either on the left or right, depending on the lead’s choice. Your job as number two is to stay in position and help the leader clear the area. The leader communicates with air traffic control for both aircraft. The wingman acknowledges by saying his position. In this case, the response would be “two.”
For example, air traffic control issues a radio frequency change:
“Gin 21 Flight, contact Houston Center on 271.3”
Lead responds: “Roger, Gin 21 Flight go 271.3”
Two responds: “Two”
There are several visual signals used in formation as well. A quick pulse of the stick to the left, for example, will dip and then re-level the wing. This is number two’s signal to move from the right wing position to the left wing. Number two would crack back on the throttles, move back and slightly down to a position behind lead with sufficient nose to tail clearance; then power back to stop rearward motion, slide to the left and move up and in on the left wing.
Radio frequency changes and fuel states can also be communicated with hand signals. If the two aircraft need to talk about something (maintenance issue, for example), the formation will switch to a discreet frequency where they can talk openly about an issue.
While at Pilot Instructor Training (PIT), it took some work to get my formation flying skills back. The initial tendency is to get into proper position but very gradually slide back to a safer position. I had to fight myself to stay in position. Added to that was learning how to give instructions while flying. I was supposed to be telling a student how I was doing all this and then effectively demonstrating it. On my first few formation rides I did a great impression of Silent Bob. My words wouldn’t come. All of my energies were directed at keeping that wingtip in the star, which is what I saw when in proper position. Once I became comfortable flying so close to another airplane again, I regained the power of speech.
Now that my positioning was under control, we moved on to more difficult maneuvers. From flying straight and level, we progressed to turns, climbs and descents. Then on to increasing “G” turns, climbs and descents. My instructor demonstrated the first high G turning descent. It was very smooth and we stayed right in position as he told me what he was doing to maintain such a rock solid platform. Now it was my turn. As soon as the leader started loading up the backpressure on the stick and increasing the G’s, things started happening to my airplane. It started bobbing up and down and weaving left and right as I tried to ease on the correct backpressure and bank to stay in position. I was all over the place, except in the right position.
My instructor took the airplane, put us back in position, and we tried it again with the same result. We took a break to talk about it. He gave me a tip that brought it all together for me. The T-38, unlike most airplanes, can be flown flat-footed. The thrust was symmetrical and on centerline so you could fly with your feet off the rudder pedals and flat on the floor. You only really needed to use the rudder pedals for takeoff, in a single engine situation, or when using the brakes. Pushing the bottom of the pedals moved the rudder. Stepping on the top of the pedals activated the brakes. My gyrations in formation occurred because I was flying “free armed.” I was moving the control stick with my whole arm and these large stick inputs were causing the plane to hop around like a bug on a hot griddle. My instructor told me to plant my right forearm just behind my right knee, and keep everything from my wrist to my shoulder absolutely still. The only stick input now was from my hand. He also changed my grip on the stick. I went from a death grip to a light touch. From that point on I had no trouble staying in on those five G turns. Now I was having fun.