Rumbling down several thousand feet of concrete in a heavy bomber loaded with bombs and gas has a man in a place of concentration. The procedures are set to memory, the feel of the machine........the feel of the machine is not unlike what he thinks of when he touches a woman. It reacts immediately to his touch, it can be obediant, or recoil depending on what he does. The weight of a b-24 against the controls was signficant until it was trimmed out. It would be virtually impossible to move her if she didnt want to be moved. In the case of this bomber Tom had to know when she would be at a place where she would take flight.
The total focus at the time of takeoff was nearly absolute. As soon as he was airborne though, Tom's mind drifted to the mission ahead. She was trimmed out for climb, and Jack was handling communication with the group to work out the sync up for formation flight. Tom would not show it, but he was nearly shaking. He wouldnt show it because they all had a job to do, and the guys would be scared enough on there own, if they thought he was afraid they would be so afraid they might not do their jobs, hesitate at a critical moment, and they all could pay the price.
Tom was almost swearing at himself. He was not a green pilot right out of flight school. He was now a seasoned veteran of dozens of combat flights. The briefing had only been slightly more negative about the resistance they would face. The stress seemed unbareable. What was going on! He thought my face must be betraying my thoughts. He was afraid to reach for a switch that jack might see his hand shaking. This is rediculous. Tom was not afraid, he tried telling himself.
Or was he? Through dozens of missions Tom had told himself, i'm doing the job. If i buy the farm, so be it, i will know i died for my country. But, what the....why the heck wasnt that working this time! Tom faced hell on many occasions, or so he thought. He thought, hey i'm doing my job for my country, its a valiant effort, right....., it was valiant right. Heroic even.
He was always able to shove the guilt of dropping bombs on people to the back of his mind. They frickin deserved it. They started this war. He knew the reports of thousands being killed in concentration camps. Bomb em to hell they would say in the ready room. He had no doubt the gerri's were goin to hell for startin this war....but Tom, he was a good guy.
Tom had seen it. He had seen a bomber hit by flack in a gas tank or the bomb bay go up like a roman candle. The guys inside he knew had only seconds of life left, if they werent dead already. Or worse, he had seen bombers auger in because of a complete collapse of the airframe. The bomber would turn violently, Tom knew that the G forces would pin the crew down in the crippled aircraft and they would ride consciously to their deaths after long seconds even minutes to the deck. Or worse yet, someone would broadcast an ill fated plea for help, or some last word a love note to a wife or a mother. Tom and the other guys would push that way back in their minds.
Young men would change to old men during their time in these bombers. Even though it was just a few years. They would never be the same. They would carry the losses with them. They would carry the death they had wrought and had received throughout their days. Tom was realizing this for the first time. He was not going to walk away from this the same man. He was not invinceable. Only by the grace of God did he come back . Only by the grace of God he thought.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Kids, Crew and Leaders
"TOM!" yelled jack from the belly of the plane.
The crew had been waiting for the go signal for two or three hours, Tom was getting so bored he couldnt remember. Some kind of frucus had erupted between the two gunners at the waist of the plane and some had yelled there was a fight. As was practical in such situations the captain sent his copilot back to check it out. Two kids fighting was not entirely uncommon on base, but absolutely not allowed on the aircraft. Nevermind these guys had 45 caliber hand guns and 50 caliber machine guns within arms reach the the whole lot of them sat under thousands of pounds of highly flamible avgas and about 10 feet from a 1,000lbs of high explosives.
"on the way" hollared back tom with a tone of disgust. For crying out loud they were sitting at the end of the runway ready to takeoff and bomb some target in to the next milenium and these two kids were likely fighting over some girl they met one time or who should clean up the empty brass after the mission.
Tom eased his way down from the cockpit to the small gang way that led through the bomb bay to the waist gunner positions. Tom really didnt like passing through the bomb bay loaded. They wouldnt even find the little pieces if one of the things went off and the thought of it was a bit unsettling.
Tom had to walk leading with one shoulder trying not to catch his harnesses on the supports, his belt on a pole and an assortment of other things. As he approached the area that opened up for the waist gunners he could see Jack with one hand on the scruff on one guys collar and another on the guys. All three men were beat red and one of the fellows took another stab at the other and Jack about yanked his shirt off keeping them apart.
"WHAT THE !" Tom yelled when he saw the brawl in action.
"CAPTAIN THAT (&(^*(! IDIOT WONT TAKE HIS............!" yelled bobby mcelroy. Bobby was a short but stout kid from New Jersey with a short fuse. He was a dang good gunner and Tom knew that well. If a meschermidt got within range of the starboard side 50 Bobby was gonna get a piece of him and probably had more kills to his name then some of the guys flying fighters.
"QUIET!" yelled Tom before Bobby could finish his sentence. The kid shut up immediately. Tom never raised his voice at the crew unless there was imminent danger or he couldnt get someones attention. That was the case this time.
On the other side of the fight was 'Geek' Greg slayton. Geek got his knickname because he was constantly reading the airplane manuals, army field manuals, anything he could get his hands on in hopes he could get promoted. It hadnt worked yet and the kids capabilities probably meant he was best suited behind the 50 call on the port side, but Tom gave him credit for trying. Geek was long anid lanky and couldve reached over and smacked Bobby with not much effort so tom figured he was trying real hard.
The crew had been waiting for the go signal for two or three hours, Tom was getting so bored he couldnt remember. Some kind of frucus had erupted between the two gunners at the waist of the plane and some had yelled there was a fight. As was practical in such situations the captain sent his copilot back to check it out. Two kids fighting was not entirely uncommon on base, but absolutely not allowed on the aircraft. Nevermind these guys had 45 caliber hand guns and 50 caliber machine guns within arms reach the the whole lot of them sat under thousands of pounds of highly flamible avgas and about 10 feet from a 1,000lbs of high explosives.
"on the way" hollared back tom with a tone of disgust. For crying out loud they were sitting at the end of the runway ready to takeoff and bomb some target in to the next milenium and these two kids were likely fighting over some girl they met one time or who should clean up the empty brass after the mission.
Tom eased his way down from the cockpit to the small gang way that led through the bomb bay to the waist gunner positions. Tom really didnt like passing through the bomb bay loaded. They wouldnt even find the little pieces if one of the things went off and the thought of it was a bit unsettling.
Tom had to walk leading with one shoulder trying not to catch his harnesses on the supports, his belt on a pole and an assortment of other things. As he approached the area that opened up for the waist gunners he could see Jack with one hand on the scruff on one guys collar and another on the guys. All three men were beat red and one of the fellows took another stab at the other and Jack about yanked his shirt off keeping them apart.
"WHAT THE !" Tom yelled when he saw the brawl in action.
"CAPTAIN THAT (&(^*(! IDIOT WONT TAKE HIS............!" yelled bobby mcelroy. Bobby was a short but stout kid from New Jersey with a short fuse. He was a dang good gunner and Tom knew that well. If a meschermidt got within range of the starboard side 50 Bobby was gonna get a piece of him and probably had more kills to his name then some of the guys flying fighters.
"QUIET!" yelled Tom before Bobby could finish his sentence. The kid shut up immediately. Tom never raised his voice at the crew unless there was imminent danger or he couldnt get someones attention. That was the case this time.
On the other side of the fight was 'Geek' Greg slayton. Geek got his knickname because he was constantly reading the airplane manuals, army field manuals, anything he could get his hands on in hopes he could get promoted. It hadnt worked yet and the kids capabilities probably meant he was best suited behind the 50 call on the port side, but Tom gave him credit for trying. Geek was long anid lanky and couldve reached over and smacked Bobby with not much effort so tom figured he was trying real hard.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
The whole fleet was lined up, engines running. It was, 6:00am. A day raid. Tom thought it would mean a lot of losses. A lot of risk. He was getting sick of the losses. The good byes to old friends. To new friends. The war was grinding on. It seemed they could win this war, but, the cost; the cost was unbelievable in human suffering. Unbelievable.
Everthing was set for takeoff since they had been sitting engines running for 15 minutes.
"all set jack?" said Tom, "yep" said jack in return.
"Navigator, all set?" Tom asked, "all set Captain", said the navigator.
Yet there they sat. The aircraft was heavily loaded. The target, a military training area in northern France would get pounded by all this firepower Tom thought. He also thought, with this many planes preparing to drop bombs, many of them will not fall on military targets.
Everthing was set for takeoff since they had been sitting engines running for 15 minutes.
"all set jack?" said Tom, "yep" said jack in return.
"Navigator, all set?" Tom asked, "all set Captain", said the navigator.
Yet there they sat. The aircraft was heavily loaded. The target, a military training area in northern France would get pounded by all this firepower Tom thought. He also thought, with this many planes preparing to drop bombs, many of them will not fall on military targets.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Guilt
Tom's 45th** mission was fairly uneventful approaching the target Dresden**. The air corps had been pounding Dresden day and night. This mission was a culmination of many days and corps had switched from high explosives to incindary. The target was some one hundred miles [visibility**] out but closing fast enough when Tom saw the glow. It was common for their activites to spark ground fires, some very big, especially when hitting armament factories, fuel depots, etc.
Tom thought "Lord God if i can see that fire from here...."
"Holy SH....." exclaimed his Jack, "That whole fricking town must be burning".
Tom and Jack gawked out the window. Tom got a sickening feeling in his stomach.
They were on a mission and Tom would complete the mission. No question. He had orders, he would follow them. He had seen plenty of death thus far, and he knew he had done plenty of damage to below in the 44 missions preceeding. He knew he had cost plenty their lives who had the misfortnue of being under one the bombs that fell from his ship.
The plan was for the allies to break the German moral and cut key communication lines. What happened was all of that. The mission was accomplished. The 8th** was in the third wave of the attack and the second wave had not been able to pick their target due to the flames and therefore RAF bomber command sent them to a portion of the city that simply was not burning.
Tom thought "Lord God if i can see that fire from here...."
"Holy SH....." exclaimed his Jack, "That whole fricking town must be burning".
Tom and Jack gawked out the window. Tom got a sickening feeling in his stomach.
They were on a mission and Tom would complete the mission. No question. He had orders, he would follow them. He had seen plenty of death thus far, and he knew he had done plenty of damage to below in the 44 missions preceeding. He knew he had cost plenty their lives who had the misfortnue of being under one the bombs that fell from his ship.
The plan was for the allies to break the German moral and cut key communication lines. What happened was all of that. The mission was accomplished. The 8th** was in the third wave of the attack and the second wave had not been able to pick their target due to the flames and therefore RAF bomber command sent them to a portion of the city that simply was not burning.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Return to Flight
It was the practice of the corps to drive the crews out to airplanes, especially the captain. Tom declined this ride this morning.
"Tom, Jump in", said the airman.
"Not today skip"
Tom stared down the flight line. Most crews were already on their way out. He had not yet set foot on the tarmac, carefully standing in the grass so as not to commit himself to the flight by taking that first step.
Tom was having a mental debate with himself. He was cleared to fly. And, basically counted as a hero by those on the base. This was a position he did not share. It wasnt humility it was responsibility. He couldnt escape the guilt of that crash. It was his hands on that yoke.
Shortly after the crash the entire air group had stood at attention as two ambulances, carrying the flag draped caskets approached a parked C-3. Tom and his crew stood in the last positions of the line adjacent to the aircraft. He knew these men, as well as he knew any of his family.
Tom knew the ambulances could've contained the bodies of him or any man on that crew. He knew logically there was no way for him to predict what had happened or who would pay the price. These line ups were a fact of life. Ships came back often with no capability to land safely. They came back all the time with dead airmen on board killed by flack, enemy aircraft fire, or worse friendly fire.
The Cornhusker had received a number of hits over the 44 missions prior to the accident and in some cases men were injured, even bad enough to be removed from flying status. Certainly Tom had know many fellows who went home this way from the group.
The ambulances came to halt with breaks screaching. Ground vehicles did not get the care and maintenance the aircraft did. Better to spend your resources pounding gerry then with a nice truck at base. Six men in class As were lined up three aside at the back of the ambulance. A corpsman inside the ambulance opened the door.
Tom's heart sank when he saw the first casket. Gary's casket would be the first lifted out. Tom's mind immediately ran to the face of a blue eyed boy in Toledo who's dad's casket was being lifted ever so carefully from the ambulance. Gary loved that boy like know one has ever seen. His pictures were a constant point of conversation if Gary was around. Tom was overwhelmed with grief and lowered his head with tears running down his cheeks.
The six men hoisted the casket down on to a cart then turning so that the three on each side were facing each other, staring through the other in a cold business like stare. An officer at the head of the casket barked an order of Salute. Instantly all sevenn men now saluted the casket and the flag draped carefully over it.
"Forward, Huh" then men snapped all facing the officer now, at attention.
"Lift" the men each grabbed a handle with the closest hand and and lifted together, still standing
facing the officer.
The process was done with the utmost precision. Even though it was to be carried out many times on this base. When the men and the casket were directly in front of Tom and his crew they stopped. Now ready to hoist the casket in to the aircraft it was custom to give the airman's crew the last opportunity to salute their fallen man.
Tom stood for a moment. It would be up to him to call the salute. It was a sign of respect for the man, his duty and his ultimate sacrifice. It was also the last time the crew would be in the mans presence. He would be flown back to the states and likely his body would be put on a train, for a journey of a fews days back to his home town.
Tom waited long enough to order the salute he knew the crew was wondering if maybe he forgot he needed to bark the order.
"Order, Salute!" Tom barked
he held the salute for a minute or so. Each man in the crew had done the same at precisely the same moment.
"Tom, Jump in", said the airman.
"Not today skip"
Tom stared down the flight line. Most crews were already on their way out. He had not yet set foot on the tarmac, carefully standing in the grass so as not to commit himself to the flight by taking that first step.
Tom was having a mental debate with himself. He was cleared to fly. And, basically counted as a hero by those on the base. This was a position he did not share. It wasnt humility it was responsibility. He couldnt escape the guilt of that crash. It was his hands on that yoke.
Shortly after the crash the entire air group had stood at attention as two ambulances, carrying the flag draped caskets approached a parked C-3. Tom and his crew stood in the last positions of the line adjacent to the aircraft. He knew these men, as well as he knew any of his family.
Tom knew the ambulances could've contained the bodies of him or any man on that crew. He knew logically there was no way for him to predict what had happened or who would pay the price. These line ups were a fact of life. Ships came back often with no capability to land safely. They came back all the time with dead airmen on board killed by flack, enemy aircraft fire, or worse friendly fire.
The Cornhusker had received a number of hits over the 44 missions prior to the accident and in some cases men were injured, even bad enough to be removed from flying status. Certainly Tom had know many fellows who went home this way from the group.
The ambulances came to halt with breaks screaching. Ground vehicles did not get the care and maintenance the aircraft did. Better to spend your resources pounding gerry then with a nice truck at base. Six men in class As were lined up three aside at the back of the ambulance. A corpsman inside the ambulance opened the door.
Tom's heart sank when he saw the first casket. Gary's casket would be the first lifted out. Tom's mind immediately ran to the face of a blue eyed boy in Toledo who's dad's casket was being lifted ever so carefully from the ambulance. Gary loved that boy like know one has ever seen. His pictures were a constant point of conversation if Gary was around. Tom was overwhelmed with grief and lowered his head with tears running down his cheeks.
The six men hoisted the casket down on to a cart then turning so that the three on each side were facing each other, staring through the other in a cold business like stare. An officer at the head of the casket barked an order of Salute. Instantly all sevenn men now saluted the casket and the flag draped carefully over it.
"Forward, Huh" then men snapped all facing the officer now, at attention.
"Lift" the men each grabbed a handle with the closest hand and and lifted together, still standing
facing the officer.
The process was done with the utmost precision. Even though it was to be carried out many times on this base. When the men and the casket were directly in front of Tom and his crew they stopped. Now ready to hoist the casket in to the aircraft it was custom to give the airman's crew the last opportunity to salute their fallen man.
Tom stood for a moment. It would be up to him to call the salute. It was a sign of respect for the man, his duty and his ultimate sacrifice. It was also the last time the crew would be in the mans presence. He would be flown back to the states and likely his body would be put on a train, for a journey of a fews days back to his home town.
Tom waited long enough to order the salute he knew the crew was wondering if maybe he forgot he needed to bark the order.
"Order, Salute!" Tom barked
he held the salute for a minute or so. Each man in the crew had done the same at precisely the same moment.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
45
Tom was walking with hesitation his commanding officer knew. Neither knew of the news they would get. Tom, really didnt care. At the end of that day Tom had lost two men. He wept for them. Two others would never rejoin the unit due to injuries. An aircraft capable of delivering great injury to the enemy had been lost. And, Tom had stripped of his flying credentials for almost three months while the burns on his hands and arms healed the Army Air Corp inspector general investigated the events of that day. This was a time when no lawyers were to be found. There was no protection for a pilot, a commander at that, who lost a ship and two crew members.
Tom was wearing his class A's with everything spit shined and every crease pressed. Despite his injuries he was an impressive figure. Standing 6 feet 2 inches tall, dark brown hair and the ironically german jaw bone structure he garnered a lot of respect.
"what if they dont let me back?" Tom said to his commanding officer. Thinking through the many options the inspector general's review board could issue him. In the cases of extreme negligence the board could order him cort martialed and even sent to the brig.
"lets not worry about what we dont know Tom", said Jake. Jake Hoffman was a midwesterner too, and a great pilot. Most of his time now was spent on logistics and scheduling crews. He had great respect for Tom and his crew. He knew Tom was busted up over the accident and he knew even if restored to flying status he would have a tough time recovering. Some guys simply could not take command of another aircraft after loosing a crew members for any reason. There was always tremendous guilt. In this case it was Tom's hands on the yoke when the heavy bomber hit the pavement. Despite their best efforts Tom and his crew could not get the failed gear in to a locked position. The left main gear collapsed almost immediately. The bomber yawed left and the nose gear collapsed under the strain. The aircraft left the runway and skidded off the runway at nearly 100 mph weighing 40,000lbs.****
As soon as the nose gear caught the soft pavement it dug in followed by the nose turret of the aircraft which smashed the glass front of the plane. The soft ground dug in and the mass of the plane being slowed too fast forced the tail of the aircraft in to the air and the whole thing came crashing down on the left wing which seperated immediately with large section forcing their way through the fuselage. Inside that portion of the fuselage were Gary Rezdig or Toledo, Ohie and Jim 'baldy' durrant from Nebraska. They were crushed by the meshing metal structure.
A fire erupted from the unused fuel and one other guy, Bob Selis was trapped. The cockpit remained undamaged and Tom and Jack were able to get our their escape windows****. Realizing Bob was trapped and a fire approached they both went to free him. The fire began raging as oil from one of the engines began flowing into the blaze. Bob was screaming for help and Tom and Jack were working fevriously to free him. Finally the steel pinning him in was pulled free and he was drug out from under the craft. Only then did Tom see that he was so close to the blaze that the tops of his sleaves were scorched and his arms burnt.
"enter" announced someone from inside the room when Jake knocked. Tom and Jake walked in about ten feet standing ten feet from the table where three officers sat. Tom and jake stood at attention stiff as two fence posts looking straight ahead.
"adease" said a man with colonel's cluster on his shoulder. Tom and Jake stood at parade rest with their hands clasped behind their backs.
"Captain Tom Kruger." Tom did not respond this was not a question a simple stating this is the guy we are dealing with right now and he dang well better listen up.
"This board of inquiry, having been commission by the commanding General of Allied forces Dwight D Eisenhower, has investigated the events of Septemer 16th, 194X has found the commanding officer of the Cornhusker, Captain Tom Kruger, missed a key option in attempting to lower the gear on the aircraft which might have resulted in a successful landing." Tom's stomach had a pit in it. He felt like throwing up. His brain scanned the aircraft manual for any option he had missed despite having done so ten thousand times since the accident.
"This being said. It is understood by this board, as a result of our inquiry that air crews have not been trained on this option. In addition, we have found the post crash actions of Captain Kruger to be nothing short of heroic risking his own life to save that of one of his crew members. We therefore agree that Captain Kruger should be absolved of any wrong doing, he should be recommended for the Army's Distinguished flying cross, and restored to flying status immediately." The colonel smiled as he looked up, closed a leather binder from where he read and stood up. When he did so the other two officers at the table also stood. As soon as the last was on his feet all three snapped a sharp salute looking Tom square in the eyes.
Tom and Jake jumped to attention and returned the salute. Tom thought he would be brought to tears. First the pronouncement he had missed something then, complete absolution. The three men shook both men's hands and exited the room. Tom slumped in to a chair. He was overwhelmed by relief, and guilt. He would be returning to flying status and two fellows had gone home in flag draped caskets.
Tom was wearing his class A's with everything spit shined and every crease pressed. Despite his injuries he was an impressive figure. Standing 6 feet 2 inches tall, dark brown hair and the ironically german jaw bone structure he garnered a lot of respect.
"what if they dont let me back?" Tom said to his commanding officer. Thinking through the many options the inspector general's review board could issue him. In the cases of extreme negligence the board could order him cort martialed and even sent to the brig.
"lets not worry about what we dont know Tom", said Jake. Jake Hoffman was a midwesterner too, and a great pilot. Most of his time now was spent on logistics and scheduling crews. He had great respect for Tom and his crew. He knew Tom was busted up over the accident and he knew even if restored to flying status he would have a tough time recovering. Some guys simply could not take command of another aircraft after loosing a crew members for any reason. There was always tremendous guilt. In this case it was Tom's hands on the yoke when the heavy bomber hit the pavement. Despite their best efforts Tom and his crew could not get the failed gear in to a locked position. The left main gear collapsed almost immediately. The bomber yawed left and the nose gear collapsed under the strain. The aircraft left the runway and skidded off the runway at nearly 100 mph weighing 40,000lbs.****
As soon as the nose gear caught the soft pavement it dug in followed by the nose turret of the aircraft which smashed the glass front of the plane. The soft ground dug in and the mass of the plane being slowed too fast forced the tail of the aircraft in to the air and the whole thing came crashing down on the left wing which seperated immediately with large section forcing their way through the fuselage. Inside that portion of the fuselage were Gary Rezdig or Toledo, Ohie and Jim 'baldy' durrant from Nebraska. They were crushed by the meshing metal structure.
A fire erupted from the unused fuel and one other guy, Bob Selis was trapped. The cockpit remained undamaged and Tom and Jack were able to get our their escape windows****. Realizing Bob was trapped and a fire approached they both went to free him. The fire began raging as oil from one of the engines began flowing into the blaze. Bob was screaming for help and Tom and Jack were working fevriously to free him. Finally the steel pinning him in was pulled free and he was drug out from under the craft. Only then did Tom see that he was so close to the blaze that the tops of his sleaves were scorched and his arms burnt.
"enter" announced someone from inside the room when Jake knocked. Tom and Jake walked in about ten feet standing ten feet from the table where three officers sat. Tom and jake stood at attention stiff as two fence posts looking straight ahead.
"adease" said a man with colonel's cluster on his shoulder. Tom and Jake stood at parade rest with their hands clasped behind their backs.
"Captain Tom Kruger." Tom did not respond this was not a question a simple stating this is the guy we are dealing with right now and he dang well better listen up.
"This board of inquiry, having been commission by the commanding General of Allied forces Dwight D Eisenhower, has investigated the events of Septemer 16th, 194X has found the commanding officer of the Cornhusker, Captain Tom Kruger, missed a key option in attempting to lower the gear on the aircraft which might have resulted in a successful landing." Tom's stomach had a pit in it. He felt like throwing up. His brain scanned the aircraft manual for any option he had missed despite having done so ten thousand times since the accident.
"This being said. It is understood by this board, as a result of our inquiry that air crews have not been trained on this option. In addition, we have found the post crash actions of Captain Kruger to be nothing short of heroic risking his own life to save that of one of his crew members. We therefore agree that Captain Kruger should be absolved of any wrong doing, he should be recommended for the Army's Distinguished flying cross, and restored to flying status immediately." The colonel smiled as he looked up, closed a leather binder from where he read and stood up. When he did so the other two officers at the table also stood. As soon as the last was on his feet all three snapped a sharp salute looking Tom square in the eyes.
Tom and Jake jumped to attention and returned the salute. Tom thought he would be brought to tears. First the pronouncement he had missed something then, complete absolution. The three men shook both men's hands and exited the room. Tom slumped in to a chair. He was overwhelmed by relief, and guilt. He would be returning to flying status and two fellows had gone home in flag draped caskets.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Sweat and Rubber
"o.....k......kk.kkkk" said jack as the convective air bumped the now light bomber around as Tom and crew approaced england. "landing checklist" called Tom.
"roger landing checklist" returned jack.
"Notifiy Crew" the first step on the landing checklist that would be read and results repeated until they bomber had stopped and all engines shut down.
"hey Boys 5 miles and were straight in" Called Tom over the intercom.
"clear the nose" continued JAck "Everyone out of the nose"
"Aux Hydraulics On", "ON" called Tom in return
"Brakes, check pressure", "925lbs" as tom squinted to see the guage.
"Autopilot off", "autopilot off" Tom said as he checked the switches checked the switches.
"cowl flaps closed", check "closed"
"Mixtures Auto Rich", "check auto rich"
"intercooler shutters open", "check open"
"boost pumps on", "pumps on"
"wing deicer off", "check deice off"
"Landing gear", this procedure called for jack to lift the lever to the up position allow the pump to build pressure to 1,000 psi or so, then move it down. The aircraft also had to be below 155mph. The pilot generally called the airspeed on this step and the copilot worked the lever.
"150 mph jack go ahead" called Tom "roger gear coming down"
"jack moved the lever off its detent upwards towards the up position. "1,000 psi, gear going down" said jack. Jack moved the gear lever down and Tom waited to hear the clunk of the gear doors falling open*** and the gear intransit. Instead,
"Shit!" exclaimed Jack, "pressure just dropped to below 100 psi ***.
"we took some pretty close ones back there, possible a line was cut". "JT check the hydraulic lines over, were not getting any gear movement....and get a move on it, 3 miles and were low on gas". Gear failures were a problem in an aircraft this size. It would land without gear, but it wasnt something anyone was anxious to try. Fuel in the tanks could explode.
"Crap" exclaimed Tom. "JT do we still have the 100lb hung up there?" Tom knew the answer to the question, but was hoping by some miracle he had forgotten. One one hundred pound bomb had hung up on the rack and no matter what the crew did they couldnt shake it off, and nobody was keen on really yanking the thing around.
Jack looked over at Tom with an ashen look. In general crews didnt like returning with ordnance because of the fear of mishaps. In this case the fears were well founded because the crew had done everything to try and get the bomb to drop and and it was wedged in the rack. A belly landind due to inop gear was a pretty dang good idea to get the bomb to drop. And though the crew had put the pin back in the bomb to reduce the chance of accidental explosion, once again and bomb dropping fifteen feet on to concrete as the plane skidded on its belly with sparks flying was not even close to an ideal situation and could be rediculously dangerous.
"oh i cant believe this" jack crooned. Jack was a fellow who liked to show his emotion. Tom was starting to sweat a bit himself.
"alright get the emergency gear checklist out" ordered Tom.
"alright eveyrone, gear is stuck and were working on that. Bigger concern is a hundred pounder stuck in the bomb bay as you all know." Tom said with calm though his heart was racing.
"lets go ahead and pitch the 50 cal amunition". Tom ordered the crew to dump the hundreds of rounds of 50 caliber amunition still on the aircraft. He thought if they did crash land and had a fire to deal with 50 caliber amunition was not necessary.
"roger landing checklist" returned jack.
"Notifiy Crew" the first step on the landing checklist that would be read and results repeated until they bomber had stopped and all engines shut down.
"hey Boys 5 miles and were straight in" Called Tom over the intercom.
"clear the nose" continued JAck "Everyone out of the nose"
"Aux Hydraulics On", "ON" called Tom in return
"Brakes, check pressure", "925lbs" as tom squinted to see the guage.
"Autopilot off", "autopilot off" Tom said as he checked the switches checked the switches.
"cowl flaps closed", check "closed"
"Mixtures Auto Rich", "check auto rich"
"intercooler shutters open", "check open"
"boost pumps on", "pumps on"
"wing deicer off", "check deice off"
"Landing gear", this procedure called for jack to lift the lever to the up position allow the pump to build pressure to 1,000 psi or so, then move it down. The aircraft also had to be below 155mph. The pilot generally called the airspeed on this step and the copilot worked the lever.
"150 mph jack go ahead" called Tom "roger gear coming down"
"jack moved the lever off its detent upwards towards the up position. "1,000 psi, gear going down" said jack. Jack moved the gear lever down and Tom waited to hear the clunk of the gear doors falling open*** and the gear intransit. Instead,
"Shit!" exclaimed Jack, "pressure just dropped to below 100 psi ***.
"we took some pretty close ones back there, possible a line was cut". "JT check the hydraulic lines over, were not getting any gear movement....and get a move on it, 3 miles and were low on gas". Gear failures were a problem in an aircraft this size. It would land without gear, but it wasnt something anyone was anxious to try. Fuel in the tanks could explode.
"Crap" exclaimed Tom. "JT do we still have the 100lb hung up there?" Tom knew the answer to the question, but was hoping by some miracle he had forgotten. One one hundred pound bomb had hung up on the rack and no matter what the crew did they couldnt shake it off, and nobody was keen on really yanking the thing around.
Jack looked over at Tom with an ashen look. In general crews didnt like returning with ordnance because of the fear of mishaps. In this case the fears were well founded because the crew had done everything to try and get the bomb to drop and and it was wedged in the rack. A belly landind due to inop gear was a pretty dang good idea to get the bomb to drop. And though the crew had put the pin back in the bomb to reduce the chance of accidental explosion, once again and bomb dropping fifteen feet on to concrete as the plane skidded on its belly with sparks flying was not even close to an ideal situation and could be rediculously dangerous.
"oh i cant believe this" jack crooned. Jack was a fellow who liked to show his emotion. Tom was starting to sweat a bit himself.
"alright get the emergency gear checklist out" ordered Tom.
"alright eveyrone, gear is stuck and were working on that. Bigger concern is a hundred pounder stuck in the bomb bay as you all know." Tom said with calm though his heart was racing.
"lets go ahead and pitch the 50 cal amunition". Tom ordered the crew to dump the hundreds of rounds of 50 caliber amunition still on the aircraft. He thought if they did crash land and had a fire to deal with 50 caliber amunition was not necessary.
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