The formation phase put pressure on the students. If they could solo in formation, they knew they would finish the program and get their wings. As instructors, we knew that we would lose a few more students before this phase was over. Our students were nervous but we did our best to put them at ease. We also did our best to hide our apprehension from them. It was one thing to fly three feet away from another airplane at 400 knots, that wasn’t a problem. The leap of faith came when we had to hand the airplane over to the student and let him try it. Our hands were never far from the controls. The goal of this training was to get the students proficient enough to solo in formation. At the end of each phase of training: instrument, contact, and now formation, the student had to pass a check ride. These were all high-pressure rides but the solo formation ride was THE ride. Once the student soloed in formation, he was assured of getting his wings.
When there were only a few rides left until graduation, we were able to have a little fun with the students. A typical four-ship consisted of two dual ships and two solos. One of the maneuvers practiced was a pitchout and straight ahead rejoin. After the pitchout, lead would call out which side #2 was to join and what speed to join at. Rejoin speed was normally 280 to 300 knots. We instructors could have a little fun with our students by agreeing prior to takeoff that we would rejoin at 250 knots instead of the called speed, 300 knots. Lead would pitch out, make the radio call and wait. #2, the other dual ship, rejoined at 250 knots. Then we both would watch as #3 and #4 flashed by our position with 50 knots of overtake. It was safe, but it was funny.
After instructing for 18 months I was appointed the Chief of Check Section. There were six of the most experienced instructors in Check Section so it was an honor for me to take this position. Our task was to administer all student check rides for all three phases of the program. Because of my position, I frequently had to fly with students who were candidates for elimination from the program. One such student was Marvin.
Marvin was quiet, polite and very intense. He had trouble getting through each phase but each time he had passed his final ride in both the instrument and contact phase. His problem wasn’t so much his hand-eye coordination in formation, but his lack of judgment. This was a major factor in grading our student pilots. We were teaching them the skills to fly but throughout the year we stressed the proper use of judgment. Not only did we show them how to land the airplane, we also showed them the danger of trying to save a landing from an unstable approach. A situation like this required good judgment. Marvin could fly in formation but he had trouble in recognizing a hazardous situation as it developed.
Marvin was down to his last ride, his elimination ride. If he failed this ride he was on his way back to Louisiana without his wings. Marvin and I would fly together. In the other airplane was my good Bud and fellow instructor Greg Barrett. Greg was flying with his student, Bob Johnson, who was progressing normally. We all sat down and briefed the flight. Marvin and I would lead off, perform a number of maneuvers, then switch lead and repeat. I took the extra time to put Marvin at ease prior to the flight. I told him the more relaxed and less worried he was, the better his performance would be. Marvin was his typical, quiet self. I didn’t know if my talk helped. I told Marvin how the flight would be operated. He would be flying as if he were solo. I would do minimal instructing, but I would be observing his flying skills and judgment.
Marvin did a stellar job as lead. He kept us in the area, sequenced his maneuvers well and took care of his wingman. We switched positions and took our spot on the wing. The pitchout and turning rejoin took longer than normal. Marvin seemed hesitant to fly up that extended line into proper position, three feet from lead. With a little encouragement, he slid into position. Marvin got quite a workout as we hung on through several turning climbs and descents.
Now it was time for some close and extended trail. The “trail” position flown by number two is a 60-degree cone flown behind the lead. A “close” trail is from 500 to 1000 feet back, 1000 to 2000 feet back is the “extended” position. The wingman’s job is to stay in the cone behind lead regardless of the maneuver being performed. Lead would typically do lazy eights, chandelles, barrel rolls and turn reversals. The wingman uses power and cutoff to remain in the cone behind the leader, keeping him in sight at all times. We did a few simple maneuvers, and then lead started into a barrel roll. Normally it’s not hard to stay in position during the barrel roll, but this one was done around the sun. Lead started down and we were right with him. Lead then started pulling and rolling and Marvin started falling out of the cone. In order to get back in the cone, Marvin cut towards the lead but as lead continued the barrel roll, Marvin ended up heading directly into the sun and lead was now gone. Marvin’s next move would decide his future (and almost mine as well). When the wingman loses sight of lead, the correct action is to turn away from his last known position. When we last saw lead, he was rolling left in about 90 degrees of bank. Marvin should have rolled right and pulled to avoid a conflict; instead he rolled further left and that’s when I took control of the airplane and rolled right, sealing Marvin’s fate.
I almost acted too late. When I next saw lead, I was right side up, in level flight. The lead aircraft flashed by us in a split second. He was upside down and our wings missed each other by a foot. Neither of us had time to say anything on the radio but one of us hit the mike button at that instant and made a sound as we nearly smacked into each other. We headed back to Craig without trying to find each other again. Marvin hadn’t said a word. He knew what was coming. Back on the ground I debriefed him for over an hour. He had failed the ride. His flying skills were acceptable. The reason for his elimination was his lack of judgment. By trying to do the opposite of what was called for in that situation he almost cost all four of us our lives along with the loss of both aircraft.
PART III
Chapter 1
The summer of 1977 was its normal self, very hot and humid. Along with the heat came a rumor that Air Training Command was reducing its number of bases. Everyone was on edge. It didn’t take long for the rumor to become reality. We received notice in June that Craig would be closing. The Air Force was under congressional pressure to cut its budget and Craig AFB became expendable. This meant that we all had choices to make. Those of us who still had an obligation to Air Training Command could continue flying the T-38 but would have to do it at one of the remaining pilot training bases. My obligation to ATC was fulfilled so I was free to apply for any flying job I wanted.
The base closure was a stroke of good fortune because now I could apply for something I had always wanted, but couldn’t until now. My dream-flying job was a single seat, single engine jet. There weren’t too many of these jobs left in the Air Force. The U-2 was at the top of my list.