A Classic Example of Good Airmanship

[Centaurus]

The term Good Airmanship is rarely used in official documents nowadays. Certainly not in ATSB reports where only facts are published and no opinions aired. In fact with the reliability of today’s modern aircraft and their systems, we rarely hear of occasions where the pilot has displayed an example of good airmanship.

So for the benefit of readers who have never read about good airmanship, the following story is a good example of its meaning. Permission was received from Macarthur Job to use extracts from his book Air Crash Volume 2. Due to space restrictions some minor editing was needed before being presented on Pprune.

In February 1940, an Australian National Airways DC-2 (forerunner of the DC-3) was flying from Essendon to Adelaide. It had just undergone a major service at ANA’s Essendon workshops. In command was Captain Norman Croucher with First Officer Arthur Lovell in the right hand seat. There were eleven passengers and one air hostess, Mavis Matters.

10 miles NE of Horsham, Aeradio officers at both Essendon and Nhill received a transmission from the crew that they were experiencing engine trouble and were “going into Nhill on one motor.” The aircraft requested the direction and strength of the wind at Nhill. This information was transmitted to the DC-2 but it did not subsequently land at Nhill and no further transmissions were received from it. Later it was discovered the DC-2 had forced landed in a wheat field near Dimboola and that neither crew nor passengers had sustained any injuries.

The circumstances leading to the forced landing were nevertheless highly dramatic and the margin by which the horrifying airline catastrophe was averted was very slender indeed.
The trip was certainly normal in every respect until about an hour out of Essendon when, in cruising flight on the autopilot at 6,000 feet, there was an unusual noise – something like a distinct bump. The F/O went back to the passenger cabin to investigate. He could find nothing wrong, but as he returned to his seat the starboard engine suddenly lost all power. Both pilots then saw that the fuel pressure warning light had illuminated and the corresponding fuel pressure gauge reading had dropped to zero.

Believing the engine driven pump had failed the F/O used the hand operated wobble pump to try and restore fuel pressure, then opened the cross-feed cock to enable the port engine driven pump to supply the starboard engine. But even though the starboard engine was windmilling, the action had no effect in restoring fuel pressure to the starboard engine. The emergency gave the crew no real anxiety. The aerodrome at Nhill lay only 40 miles ahead and with plenty of height in hand (the DC-2’s three bladed Hamilton controllable pitch propellers did not feather), the captain expected no difficulty in making a single engine approach and landing. At this stage therefore the crew simply called Nhill and reported their intentions.

Soon after, the air hostess came into the cockpit to report a strong smell of petrol – something most unusual in the well insulated cabin of a DC-2. Again the F/O went back to investigate. Still worried, he returned to the cockpit and glancing at the starboard engine was shocked to see orange flames and black smoke streaming from around the engine’s ring cowling. “It’s on fire!” he yelled to the captain.

Though unable to see the fire from the left hand seat, Captain Crowther immediately throttled back the live port engine and threw the DC-2 into a steep, side slipping descending turn to the left to keep the flames away from the starboard wing fuel tank which was situated between the engine and fuselage.
As it happened, the aircraft had just passed over the town of Dimboola, a regional centre in the heart of Victoria’s Wimmera wheat belt. Below the DC-2 as it turned back in the direction of Horsham, stretched a vast area of flat farming country, at this time of the year much of it freshly harvested stubble paddocks. The only trees were those separating some of the fields as wind breaks.

Keeping the side slipping descent as steep as he dared as the fire intensified, Croucher quickly selected the nearest area that offered an ample landing run between one line of trees and the next. The paddock fences in between he ignored; with the fire streaming around the metal wing, every second counted – it was vital to get the DC-2 on the ground in as short a time as possible. The undercarriage meanwhile had lowered itself. The undercarriage mechanism of the DC-2 incorporated no “up” locks, the gear being held in the “up” position entirely by hydraulic pressure. As the fire burnt through the hydraulic lines in the starboard nacelle, releasing hydraulic pressure, the undercarriage simply fell into the extended position. Dimboola townspeople who happened to glance up at the aircraft passing over on the normal daily service were awed to see smoke suddenly pour from its starboard engine. One witness described tongues of fire mingling with the smoke as the aircraft swung around in a steep bank over the town, dropping swiftly.

Up in the cockpit, the increasing urgency of the situation was becoming alarmingly evident to F/O Lovell. With flames now streaming back behind the trailing edge of the wing as far as the tailplane, the entire starboard engine and firewall gradually drooped as the nacelle’s two upper longerons were affected by the intense heat, then abruptly fell forward into a horizontal position as they gave way altogether. Supported now only by the two lower longerons from the centre section spars, the engine and propeller was actually hanging directly in front of the lowered starboard undercarriage – an appalling prospect for their imminent landing.

Still holding a sideslip with hard left aileron and opposite rudder, Captain Croucher was exercising superb judgement as he guided the rapidly descending DC-2 towards the open area he had chosen. A line of trees loomed up but no sooner had the DC-2 skimmed over the trees when, at a height of about 100 feet, the starboard nacelle’s remaining supports finally succumbed to the heat and the complete engine, firewall and propeller fell from the aircraft, striking the tailplane as it did so. The aircraft lurched momentarily, straightened out, then touched down fast but smoothly on its main wheels in the stubble paddock.

With hydraulic pressure for the brakes gone also, the captain almost immediately had to give the port engine a burst of throttle to swing the aircraft clear of a lone tree in their path. This, coupled with the fact that no braking was available, precluded any hope of stopping within the confines of the paddock. Still rolling fast, the DC-2 burst through its far wire fence ‘snapping like string” as one passenger put it later.

As the aircraft finally slowed to a stop about a mile from where the fallen engine had come to rest, the captain shouted to the passengers to “Get out quickly.” They did so, the men gallantly remaining in their seats until the women and the child passenger were safely out. With the complete engine gone from the starboard nacelle, the fuel shut off, and no slipstream to fan the flames, the intensity of the flames subsided. The crew were attempting to douse it with the aircraft’s portable extinguishers when the Dimboola Fire Brigade arrived and quenched the remaining flames.

Examination of the wing structure in the area of the starboard nacelle showed that it had been badly damaged and weakened by the fire. Indeed, with the weight of the aircraft supported on the main undercarriage, the starboard wing outboard of the nacelle was drooping slightly. Pending the removal of the wings to transport the aircraft back to Melbourne by road, the captain considered it prudent to support the starboard wing to prevent any further damage through bending and distortion. For this purpose, the farmer on whose property the DC-2 had forced landed, cheerfully carted dozens of bags of wheat to the scene stacking them under the wing at the pilots’ direction.

The loss of a wing in flight – with all the tragic consequences such a catastrophic failure would have brought – was clearly averted by a frighteningly small margin. It was suspected that, with the aircraft just out of a major servicing at Essendon, a fuel line union might not have been fully tightened. Subsequently working loose, it might have simply fallen off in flight – a theory which the airline engineering people refused to discuss, even with the aircraft’s crew.
............................................................ ...................................
Side slipping as a training exercise is rarely taught at today’s flying schools. Yet it was the effective use of the sideslip manoeuvre that saved the day in the above incident. Readers may also recall the Air Canada Boeing 767 that ran out of fuel during cruise flight near the town of Gimli in Canada. The captain made a successful dead stick flapless landing on a short runway used for drag racing. He was able to sideslip to lose height on final approach.

So there you are. Two examples of superb flying skill and good airmanship.:ok:

[717tech]

Thanks for posting that Centaurus, bloody good read.

I'll have to go and find the book now.

[Creampuff]

ATSB reports where only facts are published and no opinions aired.If only! :*

(Great extract, BTW Centaurus.)

[PLovett]

As the aircraft finally slowed to a stop about a mile from where the fallen engine had come to rest, the captain shouted to the passengers to “Get out quickly.” They did so, the men gallantly remaining in their seats until the women and the child passenger were safely out.

I wonder what todays reaction would bring? :hmm:

[Capt Claret]

I wonder what todays reaction would bring? :hmm:

Quite possibly something along the lines of "outa the way bitch". :( :sad:

[Capt Claret]

Or even

him: "after you ma'm"

her: "how dare you treat me in such a condescending manner" :suspect: :{

[Old Fella]

Reading the account of the safe outcome of the ANA DC-2, after suffering an Engine fire with subsequent detachment of the engine and wing fire, I was reminded of an accident which had a very different outcome. As a young RAAF engine mechanic based at 2AD RAAF Richmond the 4th February 1958 was seared into my memory. This day the RAAF lost Neptune A89-308 and eight crew as a result of an uncontrollable engine nacelle/wing fire following the uncontained failure of one of the Power Recovery Turbines (PRT's) in the port engine. Sadly, the fire caused sufficient damage for the port wing to fail during the recovery to Richmond, with the aircraft impacting inverted into the eastern bank of the Hawkesbury River at Cornwallis near the RAAF Richmond base.

I relate this, not to cast any aspersion on the Airmanship of the pilots of A89-308, simply to reinforce how different the outcome for Capt Croucher and those aboard the ANA DC-2 could have been.

[Centaurus]

In 1979, author Richard Drury published his book My Secret War which was about his flying experiences during the Vietnam War. He flew the A1 Skyraider, a massive single engine fighter bomber. I recall one chapter that had me on the edge of my seat in the comfort of my home. I am sure Richard Drury will not mind if I take edited extracts from his wonderful book and use them here on Pprune. Because here was surely the epitome of fine airmanship - the subject of the original post. In loose formation at night with a second Skyraider, Drury was on the way to attack enemy ground formations near the infamous Ho Chi Minh Trail on the border of Laos.

He wrote: "We drifted in and out of clouds all the way to the target, which was Tchephone in Southern Laos, not a very hospitable location on the Ho Chi Minh Trail. Hank (the other Skyraider pilot) turned off his position lights some fifty miles out and I was visually alone, darting through clouds without natural horizon, generally on instruments. The target was a truck park in Tchepone, defined once again in terms of distance and heading from a faint white ground marker dropped from a Forward Air Controller.

I flipped the master arm switch on simultaneously with the roll in from 8500 feet, but nothing happened. The gun-sight was cold and dark. I punched the mike button to say that I couldn’t release anything but heard a break in the static and a lifeless transmitter. The cockpit lights which I had already dimmed went out entirely. Pulling out of the dive on indistinct instruments, I tried to communicate, but the radio was lifeless.
Then the generator warning light came on bright red. I attempted to reset the generator but that also failed. I recalled the words from all night briefings: “if you have a problem, just use the manual release handles and jettison everything. The explosions will let you know you are in trouble.” I flew over the target area and pulled both the outer and inner wing station handles and felt everything drop away.

With the trim set in the down position for dive-bombing, the aircraft entered a violent dive when I pulled the manual release handles. I was nervous enough when suddenly the cockpit started filling with smoke and the instrument panel was nearly obscured. The propeller started to surge and sparks poured through the exhausts stacks.
I pulled down my clear visor to cover my eyes and tightened my straps for the exit. Fighting the nose down trim and smoke I thought about being captured once again, the vision of being lashed to a tree and skinned alive that many of our companions had faced before. Then the propeller stopped surging and the sparks went away. But the smoke was still there. It was stinging my eyes and smelled like a real electrical calamity had taken place.

I unzipped my flight-suit pocket, took out my little flashlight, held it between my teeth and attempted to fly with what was left. The only thing that appeared workable for navigation was the magnetic compass, the one we referred to as the standby compass. It sat atop the instrument panel and pointed roughly west. I swung to the right and attempted to set out northwest. The attitude indicator started turning upside down, toppling without power, and I used every ounce of determination to avoid looking at it to keep from believing I was really turning upside down. The heavy stick began to hurt my arm since all that down trim created a series of oscillations which carried me roughly a thousand feet either side of the altitude I was trying to maintain.

It occurred to me that perhaps my survival radio would work, and I unzipped it from the little pocket in my vest and opened the canopy enough to stick out the extended aerial which was something like the whip antenna on portable radios. Alternating between voice and the emergency beeper, I received nothing. As I ended the procedures for generator failure, the smoke began to filter from the cockpit and after a short time I was once able to breathe clear air. The magnetic compass still showed northwest and I kept it in that direction.

We had flown southeast to the target for some forty minutes, which had been partially in a departure pattern; so, figuring that a three-mile-a-minute airplane would do around ninety miles in half an hour, I tossed in the forecast winds and derived thirty two minutes on my heading. It should put the airplane directly over the base. I calmed down a bit, changing from stark terror into a more relaxed frame of mind.

The weather was still there, and I tried to keep the airplane upright using the standby compass and its fluid level. It was a rather impossible task, and fortunately I would break out of cloud decks in time to accurately determine aircraft attitude, which was usually a matter of being in a steep bank. It was tiring and hard work but it was taking me home. For thirty-two minutes I kept the machine going, flying with less than precision but with brute forced and physical endurance and great amounts of willpower.

In that moment of time I was over a thin layer of cloud through which I saw lights, bright lights. I reduced power and broke out directly over the town of Nakhon Phanom. The field lights twinkled in the distance under some low clouds. I smiled, I laughed, I sat back weary yet delighted.

Skimming the cloud bottoms, I flew by the tower flashing my flashlight and moving the throttle to get some attention. As I was, I was flying a phantom ghost ship across the runway, lights out. I saw no return light, so I continued down the field until the boundary, where I made a sort of tear-drop shaped reversal and came back for a landing. The flaps wouldn’t go down, nor would the indicators indicate, since the electrical system was out, but I leaned out of the open canopy and watched the gear move forward into position, the knee caps on the struts showing I had wheels down. Blessed are the basics of aviation where a pilot can stick his head out and see things. The wind felt good and cool. Cloud drifted across the end of the runway and light drizzle sprayed the cockpit. I took the flashlight and placed it in my left hand, which also held the throttle. With quick flashes I was able to see the airspeed indicator. Over the threshold I turned out the light and made a blackout landing on the wet runway.

It was hard to believe that I had gone off into night combat over Laos, fought the weather, waged battle over enemy territory, had the emergency, almost panicked, made it back and was home

[TOUCH-AND-GO]

Thank you very much for sharing that with us Centaurus. Always a superb read :)

[Centaurus]

Here is one more story of superb airmanship that I hope will interest Pprune readers.

In the early Fifties, it was common to see copies of military flight safety magazines in RAAF crew rooms. These included RAAF Spotlight and the latest Crash Critiques, Air Clues and Tee Emm from the Royal Air Force, as well as USAF and US Navy magazines and the occasional Royal Canadian Air Force flight safety journal. In those days, Townsville, was the home base of No 10 (Maritime Reconnaissance) Squadron, equipped with four engine Lincoln Mk 31 bombers. As an aircrew member of the Squadron, I was particularly interested in reading the USAF Military Air Command (MAC) Flyer flight safety magazine especially as the MAC operated long range four engine transports over the vast reaches of the Pacific.

As a way of introduction to the main story, in May 1956, a Pan American Airways Boeing 337 Stratocruiser was en-route from Honolulu to San Francisco when the No 1 propeller ran away creating tremendous drag. The crew were unable to feather the propeller. High power was being used on the remaining three engines to enable the aircraft to hold height, when the No 4 engine lost power and its propeller had to be feathered. The aircraft gradually lost altitude until it was flying only a few hundred feet above the ocean. When it became clear that fuel would be exhausted before reaching the destination and after flying over a ship weather station, the captain decided to ditch the aircraft near the ship. All on board the Boeing 337 were rescued.

From reading the MAC Flyer I discovered runaway propellers were not uncommon in big radial engines and I wondered if the in-line liquid cooled Rolls Royce engines of our Lincolns could face the same trouble if the pilot was unable to feather the propeller; especially during long range SAR and maritime reconnaissance flights missions over the sea. Although I had experienced several engine failures in Lincolns, we had been able to feather the propellers.

Then I read about another incident involving this time a USAF MAC Boeing C 97 Stratofreighter en-route Honolulu to Travis Air Force Base near San Francisco. If I recall correctly, the C97 had four Pratt and Whitney R4360 air cooled radial engines; the largest radials ever produced. Now I am falling back on my memory for this story so please bear with me. The following are the facts as I recall them from the magazine.

After leaving Hickham AFB on Hawaii and shortly after passing the point of no return between Hawaii and the west coast of USA, the Stratofreighter suddenly had a runway propeller on the No 1 engine which the crew were unable to feather. The drag from the huge propeller caused the aircraft to lose speed and the pilot was forced to descend even with using maximum continuous power on the remaining three engines. High power could soon lead to overheating engines.

The immediate danger was fire that could erupt in the engine caused by friction building on the propeller shaft. One of the first actions to minimise the drag from a windmilling propeller is to reduce airspeed. The crew did that but were still unable to feather the propeller. The danger was the propeller might eventually come loose and fly off causing fatal damage to the No 2 engine next to it and possibly to the aircraft.

The captain directed the flight engineer to feather the propeller of the No 2 engine so that if the No 1 propeller flew off then with a bit of luck it would not go through the arc of the No 2 propeller and cause untold damage.
All the time the C97 was steadily losing height and the crew prepared for ditching. The captain then further directed the flight engineer to pull the firewall shut-off valve to the No 1 engine which cuts off the fuel, engine oil and hydraulic oil supply. The intention was to starve the engine of oil leading to engine seizure and hopefully have the windmilling propeller fall into the ocean. The flight engineer then proceeded to pull the No 1 engine firewall shut-off valve intermittently until the friction caused by lack of oil to the propeller shaft would slow down the propeller.

Soon the reduction gear casing of No 1 engine was seen to go red hot and the propeller started to wobble. It was vital that the propeller not hit the aircraft if and when it departed.
With the No 2 propeller feathered to minimize damage if the spinning propeller of No 1 engine hit it, the time had come to force the runaway propeller to leave the aircraft. Judging when the time was right by observing the wobbling propeller and the red hot casing of the reduction gear, the captain placed the aircraft into a steep right bank and at the same time bunted by pushing hard on the control column. Gyroscopic forces caused by the combination of the direction of rotation of the runaway propeller and the direction of control column movement caused the propeller to break clear and go under the aircraft. On the way it clipped one of the feathered blades of No 2 propeller severely damaging it. The wise precaution to feather No 2 paid off.

With the No 1 propeller gone and serious damage to a blade of the No 2 propeller, it was clear to the crew that starting No 2 engine was not an option since the probability of catastrophic vibration caused by its unbalanced propeller could be fatal. As the aircraft neared sea level it was noticed that with maximum continuous power on both starboard engines the C97 could just maintain height with no further loss in airspeed. A ditching was avoided for the time being. As time passed, with the C97 holding height on two engines at 50 feet above the sea, it was noticed that airspeed was gradually increasing and it became possible to even reduce power to maintain a safe two engine airspeed. Although the crew probably were unaware of it, it was the phenomena later known as `ground effect` that had caused a reduction in induced drag and thus slight airspeed gain.

Ground effect takes place when an aircraft flies over the ground or water at a height equal to roughly half the total wing span. The wing span of the Stratofreighter was 141 feet. It meant if the aircraft could hold its current altitude of below 100 feet there was a good chance the aircraft could still reach Travis AFB. With several hours to go, the crew were able to maintain a safe cruising speed as fuel was used and even climb to a more comfortable height.
The aircraft reached Travis safely but fate played its hand just one more time. On final approach on two engines the pilot was forced to go-around again when another aircraft entered the runway in front of it. The go-around was successful and so was the final landing. The crew were praised for displaying fine airmanship under harrowing conditions.

Reading that story in the MAC Flyer magazine at Townsville got me thinking and I wondered if ground effect applied to the Lincoln. After all, it would be useful thing for our crews to know. Trials with the Lincoln revealed that an extra eight to ten knots of indicated airspeed could be attained when flying at 50 feet over water in ground effect.

[A37575]

How about this for good work, too?

While flying Supermarine Attacker F.1, WA469, to test airbrakes, Supermarine pilot Leslie R. Colquhoun makes a high-speed run over South Marston airfield, experiences a sudden nose-down pitch as the starboard wingtip folds upwards. Using only the rudder - the ailerons had jammed - he makes a wide circuit and touches down at ~200 knots (370 km/h), coming to a stop just short of the end of the runway with a burst tyre. He receives the George Medal for saving the aircraft under daunting circumstances.

[Centaurus]

Superb airmanship is not just the domain of pilots flying hot ships. The venerable DH82 Tiger Moth can bite you too. This story from former wartime Hawker Typhoon pilot, Bob Birch who joined Trans Australian Airlines as a new first officer in 1950. In his book "Beer and Skittles - One Man's Fifty years of Flying" he tells the story of a Tiger Moth flight that lasted less than two minutes. He wrote:

"About six months after starting with TAA on DC-3's, I went to Mackay, Queensland, to collect a Tiger Moth to be ferried back to Melbourne for a company staff private group. A control box assembly error that could have been present for years produced a problem with elevator movement, having watched from the ground the previous day's first flight after cyclone damage repair, I failed to notice the problem.
As big drains for wet season use ran across the field, all activities were restricted to runways, something of a Tiger Moth handicap because its tail-skid made taxi control more difficult on a hard runway surface.

A young local lad who had been of considerable assistance was being given a passenger ride while I refreshed on type.

On take-off the machine waddled down the runway then leapt into the air of it own accord. At about 50 feet the aircraft nose was still rising, 38 knots `on the clock`, the top mainplane leading edge slats standing open like the clutching claws of fate, and the control stick full forward. Not a promising start to the day. Lowering the machine's nose was essential to increase airspeed and to avoid a stall. Banking the craft about 70 degrees to the left lowered the nose and increased speed, but also initiated a left turn that could not be corrected with full right rudder.

The latter was not a problem in itself as a circuit would be needed to return for landing. However, the uncontrolled turn took us towards a group of about half a dozen steel high frequency radio masts complete with guy wires. A small reduction of bank gave a hop over that obstacle, a slipping left descending turn took us back to a landing position but, as the wings were levelled for landing, the nose popped up and we were climbing again.

Second time around was a repeat of the first, except that speed was reduced for the approach.....not sufficient, so the third circuit was on. Third time around proved lucky. the aircraft completely stalled on to the runway in the landing attitude, no damage done.

Three complete circuits with the stick fully forward in something less than two minutes must have been some sort of record. Being rather annoyed at the whole business, I gave one tyre a good kick and returned to Melbourne.
To be almost brought to grief by the simplest of machines was not good for the ego! After rectification, the aeroplane flew normally and several weeks later I did the three day ferry from Mackay to Moorabbin.

Back at TAA Essendon I said nothing of the event because of the probability that one of the three licensed mechanics who worked on the machine would have been unfairly criticised. From working on Tiger Moth repair in the hangar at Ansett months earlier, I knew exactly what had happened, and that design construction would have concealed the error from normal visual inspection."
............................................................ ......................

Bob's recovery from an extreme nose high attitude at very low altitude was to immediately apply full aileron to get to 70 degrees which caused the nose to drop and pick up speed. This was normal teaching in the RAAF but rarely taught at civilian flying schools. I very much doubt if this technique is taught even now to GFPT students and cadet pilots destined for the airlines.

Yet the manoeuvre is mentioned in the Boeing 737 Flight Crew Training Manual if an unusual attitude is entered causing a very steep nose high attitude and speed rapidly reducing. The FCTM states in part: "If normal pitch control inputs do not stop an increasing pitch rate, rolling the airplane to a bank angle that starts the nose down should work. Bank angles of about 45 degrees, up to a maximum of 60 degrees, could be needed. Finally, if normal pitch control then roll control is ineffective, careful rudder input in the direction of the desired roll my be required to induce a rolling maneuver for recovery. Only a small amount of rudder is needed."

Notice in his report the pilot was forced to make a slipping left descending turn to get into the landing position. Shades of the opening post of this thread where the captain with his DC-2 engine fire went into a deliberate side slip descending turn to descend rapidly for his forced landing and to keep the flames from one engine away from the fuel tank.

Manoeuvres such as those used by the pilots of the stricken DC-2 and the Tiger Moth were taught in the old days at flying schools as part of elementary flight training. Today the accent seems to be on convoluted checklists, CRM, TEM or whatever the latest buzzword.

[ranmar850]

Some brilliant examples of airmanship, thank you all. On the topic of sideslips; One day, while under training, I was a little high on approach (C172P). I deliberately crossed controls to lose that extra bit of altitude, which worked for me, but the instructor (for whom I had the greatest respect) commented that slips didn't really work for high-wing aircraft. My experience with that aircraft was that trying to hold inline, rather than crab, on approach in a strong crosswind always caused noticeable altitude loss--and this was effectively crossed controls? Opinions?

[chocks in]

Great postings as usual Centaurus .... very interesting reading !
You sure possess a wealth of great experience and pertinent knowledge ... Thanks .

[nitpicker330]

Sideslips are not permitted with Flaps extended is my recollection on most GA types?? Stand to be corrected though....
Something about side loads on the flap components??

( Apart from the gentle de-crab maneuver at low speed in the flare. )

[dubbleyew eight]

I going to post that all examples of good airmanship seem to follow closely behind catastrophic stuff ups in maintenance. ever noticed that?

nitpicker your knowledge is slipping to the point you'd be dangerous in the air.

btw just how do you get side loads on a flap????????
please elucidate. this could be an entire new field of knowledge in aviation.:rolleyes:

[Oktas8]

I deliberately crossed controls to lose that extra bit of altitude, which worked for me, but the instructor (for whom I had the greatest respect) commented that slips didn't really work for high-wing aircraft.

and...

Sideslips are not permitted with Flaps extended is my recollection on most GA types?

Slips in the C172 are not recommended at maximum flap setting, due to oscillation in pitch associated with disturbed air flowing over the tailplane. Being unredeemably contrary by nature, I tried it once. The oscillations were noticeable at 30* flap and negligible at lesser flap settings as per Cessna's recommendation.

Other light aircraft slip very nicely, in my experience!

[dogcharlietree]

And here is another excellent example;
VH-INA Saga by B. Dannecker (http://www.aussieairliners.org/scrapbook/dc-6/vhinasaga.html)
Well done Keith. A superb and very professional aviator.

[nitpicker330]

Doubleeight-------Thanks mate I appreciate the kind words!!

That's what sideslips do buddy, place loads on the aerodynamic surfaces that create additional drag to slow the damn plane down!! Extra side loads on the vertical fin and other components.......it's not rocket science surely?

Anyway after some research here It's not the main reason anyway, it's problems of Elevator effectiveness during the Flap down sideslips that can cause problems...

http://www.pprune.org/private-flying/472132-c172-flap-question.htmlb

It's been 35 years since I learnt to fly in GA and a lot has happened since but I can clearly remember being trained NOT to do sideslips with Flaps in C172's ( you shouldn't need to anyway )

[Centaurus]

but I can clearly remember being trained NOT to do sideslips with Flaps.

Isn't it written down in a C150 or C172 manual somewhere?

You have a good memory! Extract from the Cessna 172 Informational Manual at page 4-20 Section 4 Normal Procedures

Quote: "Steep side slips should be avoided with flap settings greater than 20 degrees due to a slight tendency for the elevator to oscillate under certain combinations of airspeed, sideslip angle, and centre of gravity loadings" Unquote.

The Cessna 152 Information Manual contains no such advice, suggesting the advice is limited to only the Cessna 172.

As with a lot of instruction at flying schools, there are flying instructors who are prone to give sweeping generalised advice, such as for example NEVER side slip with flaps down in any aircraft. Impressionable students then take this as Gospel Truth throughout their flying career

[nitpicker330]

Anyway back to the topic of interest here.......

Anymore good stories to pass on?

[Centaurus]

Here is one:
Kenneth Schechter, Survivor Of Blind Landing, Dies At 83

Kenneth Schechter, who died earlier this month in Fairfield, Calif., at age 83, had been just 22 years old when he survived an unusual blind landing in Korea. Schechter was flying an A-1 Skyraider above the Korean coastline on his 27th combat mission, in 1952, when an enemy shell blew the canopy off his airplane and metal fragments struck both of his eyes. "I'm blind! For God's sake, help me!" he cried into his radio. "I'm blind!"

He was answered by Lt. j.g. Howard Thayer, who served with him on the aircraft carrier Valley Forge. Thayer flew close beside him, and talked him all the way down, until 45 minutes later Schechter was able to land safely at a dirt airstrip.

"My plane hit the ground, lurched momentarily and skidded to a stop in one piece," Schechter wrote, in 2001. "A perfect landing. No fire. No pain, no strain. The best landing I ever made." Schechter regained sight in his left eye but the right eye was permanently blinded. Schechter wrote (PDF) that he was unwilling to bail out because he'd seen other pilots drown or die of exposure after bailing out into the frigid waters of the Sea of Japan. His immersion suit was damaged and wouldn't protect him from the freezing waters. "To my mind, bailing out meant certain death," he wrote. Schechter worked as an insurance agent after the war. He was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross in 1995.

[Fantome]

WHY SO LONG BETWEEN INCIDENT AND GONG?

There was another extraordinary save by two F86 pilots during the same conflict.
They formated on one of their mates who had flameout a long way north of the 44th parallel, at altitude. By extreme skill and daring the first two came in close so as to be able with their wings to support and carry their mate back over the line and to a point not far from their base. Upon leaving the tight formation the ace in the first Sabre did a few 720s to set himself up for his deadstick, which he performed flawlessly.

The late Tony 'Havachat' Norman once told me about how the RFDS PC12 drivers practice a similar manoeuvre - all all alone, of course - should their PT6 donks ever pack up. He was one of them, based Meekatharra. Imagine. Pitch black night over the Gibson Dessert, for instance. Run out of noise. Punch 'nearest'. Go straight there hoping and praying for enough height and enough illumination from the headlights to put her down in one piece. MR item 1 - engine U/S. Item 2 - pilot seat cushion needs replacement due numerous divots.

Our man in need of a pardon, Slasher, understood the physiology of the anal sphincter if anyone did. (Unlike certain killjoys who banished the way out there bright bugger.)

Thank you wings, for the regurgitations. Arthur Lovell - a man who joined airlines off his family's potato farm in northern Tasmania - passed away only a few years ago. It was he who put a DC-4 back on the ground safely at Essendon following an after maintenance test flight on which he took off and immediately discovered aileron reversal due to a lapse on the part of one of the plumbers.

Though it may be argued that absence of body is preferable to presence of mind, men like Arthur survive due to superior training and superior reflexes.

It may be that he played a lot of squash and frequently practised the salutary old game of 'what if?'.

Whenever the cry of 'INCONCEIVABLE' goes up, the evil devious little man in 'The Princess Bride' comes to mind.

Footnote to Centaurus - please eschew 'airplane' as you eschew 'mom'.
For you are an Englishman . .. . . Englishman.

[Centaurus]

enemy shell blew the canopy off his airplane

Direct quote from AVWEB the US aviation website - hence "airplane."

I agree with you 100%, though. "Aeroplane" or even "flying machine" is much more elegant, don't you think?":ok:

[rjtjrt]

Whilst I prefer aeroplane to airplane (I suspect only because that is what it was when I was learning as a child), I do find it difficult to counter the argument that the US invented the machine (ignoring arcane arguments to the contrary) and they should really have primacy in naming it.
John

[By George]

In the early seventies, Neil Williams doing aerobatics in a Zlin had a spar failure. With the failed wing rising, he rolled inverted, locked it back in place and flew upside down back to the field. ( Hullavington in England I think it was). Just prior to the flare he rolled the right way up and landed, just as the wing completely failed. Great demonstration of stick skills and hard to believe the same man then killed himself by flying into a mountain north of Madrid in 1977.

[Centaurus]

That was an amazing example of superb flying especially as he had to decide in a split second to invert the Zlin. He was killed while flying a Heinkel HE111 when he flew into a hill in poor visibility

[Tankengine]

The decision which Direction to roll inverted had to be made quickly too!:ok:

[Centaurus]

This incident, which happened 36 years ago in 1978, was one of the greatest feats of airmanship I have ever read about. It was about a Cessna pilot lost while ferrying a single engine Cessna over the South Pacific Ocean and an Air New Zealand DC10 captain who heard the distress signal and was able to guide the Cessna to safety.

I googled the story and with some editing for space reasons, here it is. It is quite probable that the majority of airline and general aviation pilots in Australia weren't even born when all this happened. It will be a fascinating story to them, as well as we of the long in the tooth, who remember the circumstances.

“Mayday, Mayday.” This message of a pilot in distress on radio three days before Christmas 1978 is heard by Auckland ATC. Jay Prochnow was finally located by the innovative navigational techniques of Captain Gordon Vette aided by Malcolm Forsyth both of Air New Zealand, Auckland ATC, Norfolk Island and the crew of the Royal New Zealand Air Force (RNZAF) Orion.

The Penrod, a towed oil rig with running lights, served as a beacon which enabled Captain Vette to rendezvous with Jay Prochnow.
The Sun reached its highest ascension 21 December 1978 at the winter solstice (summer in the Southern Hemisphere) and the very next day Jay Prochnow (a former U.S. Navy pilot), piloting a Cessna 188 AgWagon found himself lost. He was ferrying the Cessna from Pago Pago to Norfolk Island. With a failed ADF and an overdue ETA, he was deeply worried.

Prochnow began an expanding square pattern hoping to find Norfolk Island before the fuel ran out. Capt. Gordon Vette in command of an Air New Zealand DC-10 (equipped with three inertial navigation systems), believed to be near the Cessna, was enlisted by Auckland ATC to help locate the lost Cessna. Vette, a qualified navigator, contacted Prochnow and asked him to head toward the Sun and to report his magnetic heading.

Prochnow pointed the Cessna to magnetic heading 274 degrees as Vette steered his DC-10 toward the Sun and read his magnetic heading as 270 degrees. Next Vette instructed Prochnow to determine the elevation angle of the Sun above the horizon using his partially outstretched arm and fingers as a sextant. Prochnow established the elevation of the Sun as four fingers as Vette measured the elevation of the Sun as two fingers.

Vette estimated the Cessna was about 240-250 nmi (each finger was slightly more than 2 degrees with each degree worth 60 nmi) from the DC-10. Vette was then able to get within VHF boxing range of Prochnow in 7 or 8 minutes. Prochnow was directed to fly east toward the DC‑10. The Sun began to set. Norfolk Island and Prochnow were both instructed to note the time that the upper limb of the Sun sank below the horizon.

With this information, the results of VHF radio reception (contact/loss) and the time of sunset comparison observed at Norfolk Island and the Cessna, the Cessna’s position was determined to be within 290 miles of its destination. Rendezvous over a towed ocean rig refined the position and Prochnow was directed to a heading to intercept Norfolk Island.

Space limits including all the details of the crisis confronted by Prochnow and all the refinements employed in the search. Since the heading of the Cessna to the Sun was 274 degrees it was greater than the 270‑degree heading of the DC‑10, that meant that the Cessna was south of the DC‑10 as shown in Figure 20 . Since the elevation angle of the Sun measured by Prochnow was higher than that established by Vette, the Cessna was closer to the Sun or west of the DC‑10 as shown in Figure 21 . Thus, the Cessna was southwest of the DC‑10.

Vette recognized that the VHF communication link could be exploited to locate the Cessna. He requested that the Cessna orbit as he raced through the VHF range circle which had a radius of about 200 nmi.
Capt. Vette reasoned that if he marked the points at which he established and lost contact with the Cessna, he could find the location of the Cessna. He knew the diameter of the VHF range circle was 400 nmi He acquired VHF contact at point 1 and lost VHF contact from the Cessna at point 2 (marking the point) at which time he turned 90 degrees left and began his aural box pattern.

After flying on this new leg for a reasonable period, he turned 90 degrees left for a short period followed by another 90 degree turn to the left and at point 3 he regained VHF contact with the Cessna (as he marked his map). He continued through point 4 where he lost VHF contact with the Cessna. Using the intersection of the perpendicular bisectors to the two chords flown within the VHF range circle, Capt. Vette established the center and the location of the Cessna.

The Cessna, however, was not immediately found. Earlier, the DC-10 had dumped fuel to leave a trail which was not seen by Prochnow. Capt. Vette recognized that one can determine the difference of longitude between Norfolk Island and the Cessna by noting the GMT of sunset at the two locations. Norfolk’s local time was 1900 for this event. The Cessna’s time was reduced to sea level (as Prochnow would see sunset later owing to his altitude and his eastward displacement from Norfolk Island). The difference between the times in GMT for sunset at the two observations was 22.5 minutes which corresponds to 5.6° longitude (a degree is equal to 4 minutes in time).

Norfolk’s coordinates were latitude 30°S, longitude 168°E. This would place the Cessna at longitude of 173.6°E , 291 nmi east of Norfolk (5.6°x 60 nmi/deg x cos 30°). Prochnow was directed to fly northwest during this interlude as he was regarded as being southeast of Norfolk Island. A RNZAF Orion was dispatched to help find the Cessna which had been airborne for 20.5 hours and now had minimum fuel remaining. Continued plotting by the navigators showed that the Cessna was approximately at 30°S, 171°E.

Prochnow soon saw a light on the water’s surface. Prochnow found an oil rig under tow whose coordinates (31°S, 170° 21'E) were relayed to the DC-10 and enabled a rendezvous with the Cessna. The Cessna was less than 150 nmi from Norfolk and was given a steering direction by Vette of 294° magnetic heading to Norfolk Island. The Cessna landed safely after being airborne 23 hours and 5 minutes arriving at close to midnight 8 hours beyond its 1600 ETA. Prochnow had stretched the Cessna’s twenty-two hours of fuel by 5 percent through cruise control.

[cubic1]

The decision which Direction to roll inverted had to be made quickly too!

------------------------------------------------------------------

Actually, Neil initially rolled the wrong way before he figured out what was going on, but then corrected his mistake and figured out that the broken wing must always in towards the ground in both roll in and roll out with a broken lower wing attach point and the need to carry enough G loading to keep it in place.

I do think that Neil's flying in that accident is one of the most impressive pieces of airmanship I can imagine

[Fantome]

That fella who found Norfolk Island thanks largely to Captain Gordon Vette had the story written up in a Readers Digest the following year.


After a good nights sleep he got up in the morning to head off for Sydney.
Why he could not home in on Norfolk Island was because the needle of his ADF had come off. Next day he simply broke the glass and glued the needle back on.

Did Mr Prochnow ever thank Captain Vette personally, or otherwise express his gratitude in a fitting way?

[Centaurus]

Next day he simply broke the glass and glued the needle back on.


Love it. Shows great initiative. Can you just imagine the stink if CASA found out about that if it happened today. An Inquiry bigger than the Norfolk Island Pelair debacle would take place:ok:

[spinex]

Fantome, I recall reading the story in a Readers Digest (in a dentist's waiting room), however there was a full length book and a film of the story too. I'd forgotten that Gordon Vette was one of the leading players in the Erebus affair too - a high flier in more ways than one.

[dubbleyew eight]

if it happened today. An Inquiry bigger than the Norfolk Island Pelair debacle would take place

they are all meaningless fluff and nonsense these days so why worry about them.

[KRviator]

Did Mr Prochnow ever thank Captain Vette personally, or otherwise express his gratitude in a fitting way? He did.

This ordeal was made into a telemovie, Mercy Mission, the rescue of flight 771, which ended with a credit that "The two men remain good friends, 15 years after their Christmas adventure". Not strictly the way things went down, with the movie showing a diversion to Auckland, but anyway....I've just found it's even on YouTube, so if you've a spare 90 mins, here it is.

[The Civil Civillian]

I have a bit of respect for the men in these 3 very memorable events:



Air Florida Flight 90: the helo pilot Donald W. Usher who hovered with the skids in the Potomac River while the paramedic Melvin E. Windsor stood on the skid and grabbed people.



US Airways Flight 1549: Captain Sullenberger and First Officer Skiles landing the aircraft on the river safely.



British Airways Flight 38: The way I understand it, SFO John Coward and FO Conor Magenis were in a glide into Heathrow with indications they wouldn't make the airfield perimiter. The pilot dipped the nose to build up just enough speed to get them from over populated area to just within the perimiter fence and the threshold of the runway.



If I understand 'Airmanship' as being flying skill, I'd say the above have it.

[Centaurus]

Back in 1969 I left the RAAF after 18 happy years and joined DCA. On arrival in Melbourne I was given a dark gloomy office with no windows at the DCA Headquarters in Aviation House 188 Queen St. In the next office was my immediate boss - a former wartime Lockheed Hudson pilot who fought the Japs in the South Pacific. Many of the people I worked with in Aviation house were also former wartime RAAF aircrew, most of whom were bored out of their mind in DCA.

I discovered that on or around the 11th Floor was the DCA Technical Library. It was a fascinating place of shelf upon shelf of ancient and contemporary aviation books, hundreds of flight safety magazines from UK, USA, Canada and of course the DCA magazine Aviation Safety Digest. It was in another DCA building (Air Liquide House) in South Melbourne,where I had the pleasure of first meeting the editor of ASD, Mac Job and his able assistant Dick McLean. We have remained in contact to this day.

At the DCA Library there were multiple copies of each magazine and I felt it was my bounden duty to liberate these spares and give them a good home (Mulgrave, where I lived). Some of these magazines were bound copies by L.H. Moon & Son Pty Ltd of Melbourne. I still have a bound copy, rescued from the DCA library, of the 1968-1969 editions of the United States Air Force flight safety magazine called "Aerospace Safety".

Following the theme of this thread on Good Airmanship, I thought readers may be interested to read selected examples from USAF Aerospace Safety where good airmanship saved the day. The Vietnam war had started and of course there was no shortage of incidents of the type seldom experienced by todays civilian aircrew. Often, the lessons learned are the same, regardless of how long ago.
For example:

On 14 March 1967, in Vietnam, Major Dubberly as instructor Pilot, with First Lieutenant Jach co-pilot and Staff sergeant Wolpert as flight engineer, took off in a C-7A (Caribou) with 17 passengers. As the aircraft was climbing through 4500 feet the aircraft received ground fire and a slight smoke odour was noticed by the crew. All instruments and circuit breakers were monitored with no abnormal indication noted. The side windows of the Caribou were closed and the smell diminished. Approximately 10 minutes later an acrid smoke odour was again detected. Smoke in the cabin was now affecting the passengers eyes but the smoke source could not be located. Because the intensity of eye irritation was increasing, Sergeant Wolpert opened the aft cargo door to help alleviate the smoke.

Lt Jach started a descent. While the aircraft was passing through 5000 feet, the No 1 engine fire light for zone 2 and 3 illuminated. Engine inflight fire procedures were accomplished but the propeller would not feather. Both fire extinguisher bottles momentarily diminished the now blazing fire which was burning well aft of the firewall and back toward the left wing. Maximum power was applied to No 2 engine and a 3-400 foot per minute descent was the best performance attainable.

At 1,000 feet, attempts to lower the landing gear proved unsuccessful; the gear controls had been burned away by this time. With maximum power on No.2 engine, No 1 windmilling, and zero flaps, Major Dubberly and Lt Jaach continued the approach. By now many pieces had burned off the No 1 engine nacelle and flames were engulfing part of the wing.

Major Dubberly took control of the aircraft, crossed the end of the runway, and touched down on the fuselage. The aircraft slid 657 feet and came to rest on the centre-line of the runway. All power was turned off and the 17 passengers and crew evacuated the still burning aircraft.

Subsequent investigation cited enemy action as the cause of the fire. Because of Major Dubberly's and Lt Jach's crew coordination, skill and professionalism, and Sergent Wolpert's outstanding ability in re-briefing and controlling the passengers, all aboard escaped without injury.
............................................................ .........................................

Centaurus comment: The above incident demonstrates the startling rapidity with which engine fires can propagate in the air with no guarantee that in-built fire extinguishers will be effective. Among airline crews there are sometimes differing opinions on the best way to treat in-flight engine fire warnings.

Some pilots argue that there is no urgency to take action since with pod-mounted engines it is likely the engine will fall away if fire weakens the installation. Others disagree, since that sort of advice is a personal point of view not backed up in aircraft manufacturers flight operations manuals. Most manuals this writer has read, emphasise the need to take prompt action in event of engine fire warning; with the caveat the pilot should ensure the aircraft is under control first. Surely that should be self-evident.

[dogcharlietree]

On 16 May 1995, an RAF Nimrod R1 suffered a catastrophic engine fire in number 4 engine. As a result of this fire, the Captain made the difficult decision to ditch in the North Sea just three miles from RAF Lossiemouth rather than push on to land on the runway. It has subsequently been calculated that the aircraft would have lost its wing entirely between 30 and 90 seconds after the ditching and could not have made it to the runway. :ok:

SKYbrary - Reflections on the Decision to Ditch a Large Transport Aircraft (http://www.skybrary.aero/index.php/Reflections_on_the_Decision_to_Ditch_a_Large_Transport_Aircr aft)

[CFI Care]

Wow Centaurus what a great story resulting in a great thread.
all awesome pilots and crew.
As part of the check flight for issue of a pilot certificate I often use an engine fire as a 'random emergency' check... with interesting results.http://images.ibsrv.net/ibsrv/res/src:www.pprune.org/get/images/smilies/smile.gif

Side slipping is indeed an essential tool in the pilots tool kit

[dogcharlietree]

Agree Civil Civilian. Here is a link to the Chopper in the Potomac
Air Florida Flight "Palm" 90 Crash - pt4 - YouTube

[Clandestino]

Great demonstration of stick skills and hard to believe the same man then killed himself by flying into a mountain north of Madrid in 1977.I kinda recall article about G-AZPH in Pilot magazine about decade and half ago. (EDIT: it's just Pitts featured in "Aerobatics" and not accident aeroplane) It was just briefly mentioned engine failure was involved and aeroplane could not maintain height above terrain on single engine. Can anyone shed more light on Neil Williams tragedy?

[djpil]

Report on Neil's accident at 1978 | 1021 | Flight Archive (http://www.flightglobal.com/pdfarchive/view/1978/1978%20-%201021.html) and tributes at 1978 | 0086 | Flight Archive (http://www.flightglobal.com/pdfarchive/view/1978/1978%20-%200086.html)
I met him in the mid-70's, nice guy and extremely skilled but after reading his second book "Airborne" I realised that he had used up all of his nine lives and good airmanship was not one of his qualities.

[Clandestino]

Thanks. So it was just all too often seen VFR into IMC. No matter how many hours you have...

[Seagull V]

Early in this thread Centaurus mentioned the use of bank to overcome extreme uncommanded nose up pitch changes. I vaguely recall an incident in mid NSW some years ago where the pilot of a piston twin (PA31 I think) used this technique to maintain a semblance of control. After wildly swooping around the countryside for some time he managed to get the aircraft on the ground, right side up, on a runway at a conveniently located airport. I have always considered that this was an outstanding example of piloting skill and airmanship. Does any one have the real details of that event to share with us.

[Horatio Leafblower]

I remember reading about that one - it was assymetric flap and,I believe, the first time a chieftain had suffered assymetric flap extension and survived anywhere in the world. :D

[Centaurus]

The May 1968 issue of USAF Aerospace Safety had this gem of a story. It has nothing to do with the OP subject of good airmanship, but brought back a few memories for me from Mustang days. The story was called “Tips for Tail Draggers” and described flying the Mustang. It starts thus:

“Ground loops later during the landing roll are generally less severe and are usually caused by day-dreaming or by trying to turn off at excessive speed. Think back to when you were taxiing out (in the Mustang). If you had to S, you started the turn with a little rudder or by tapping brake, then almost immediately you had to start coming in with rudder on adding a touch of opposite brake to keep the turn from tightening. You were taxiing pretty slow – a must for tail-draggers – and had little trouble maintaining control. But if you were to increase speed you’d soon have your hands full. So, do as the old timers always cautioned.

Don’t relax until you have the beast on the chocks and shut down, and always make sure you have her slowed to normal taxi speed before you try to bend her off the runway. Like any phase of flying, it’s much easier to stay on top of the situation than to regain control. But if you do lose control on the ground, don’t lose your cool, which reminds me of a story.

An acquaintance was waiting to take the active at Amarillo on winter during the war and the place was a sheet of ice, which isn’t too unusual for Amarillo in the winter-time. As he waited, a WASP - female ferry pilot to you younger types – entered traffic in a Mustang.

She’d no sooner touched down than the bird swapped ends, slid backwards for a few hundred feet, ending well off the shoulder. About all the tower operator could see was the snow she blasted into the air. He radioed, “P51 that just landed, are you all right?”

Without pause a slightly miffed female voice came back, “Hell yes! I land the &%$*## this way all the time!”

[Centaurus]

That story of the female ferry pilot ground looping her Mustang after she landed on a slippery runway, I thought was so funny. Which is why I posted it. Her frightening experience reminded me of the time I found myself in a similar situation albeit the runway was dry. In those days with only 220 hours under my belt I didn’t have many clues. Rather like today’s cadets going straight into the RH seat of airliners.

On this occasion at RAAF Williamtown, I was No 2 to a very experienced Mustang pilot called Flight Lieutenant Peter Middleton DFC. Some older readers in Victoria may remember Pete Middlelton as a DCA Examiner of Airmen at Moorabbin in the Seventies. Peter was tall imposing character and an impatient by nature. The Mustang was built for six footers and I was a bit over 5ft 4” give or take a few millimetres and I had real problems taxiing the Mustang. The seat was only adjustable vertically. The rudder pedals not adjustable. Tall pilots had no problems, short pilots did.

I could taxi with the seat full down and get just enough stretch to obtain full rudder pedal movement with the tips of my flying boots just touching the top of the rudder pedals and lucky enough to obtain partial brakes. Or I could lift the seat higher to get a better view over the nose of the Mustang at the expense of rudder and brake control.

Pete Middlelton started his Mustang and waited impatiently for me to start my engine and run through after start checks. He wore a bone dome and used to raise his seat right up to get a better view – so much so, his head was higher than the bullet proof windscreen. With his dark sunglasses, Errol Flynn moustache and blue and white bone-dome, he looked every inch a real fighter pilot - which he was, of course.

We taxied to the duty runway with him leading as the No 1 in the formation and me following behind careful not to chew his tail with my prop. When taxiing the Mustang you had to weave the nose left and right to see what was ahead. This was my first formation trip in a Mustang. Being short meant I couldn’t see much ahead unless I weaved like crazy so I decided to jack up my seat to get a better view at the expense of rudder control.

Now to jack up the seat while taxiing was a bit like a one arm paper hanger in action. I needed one hand to operate the seat raising lever, one hand on the throttle on the left side of the fuselage and the other hand on the control column pushing it forward to give free tail-wheel operation. Pulling the stick back locked the tail-wheel. Three hands needed and I had two. During one of the weaves I was startled to see the No 1 had stopped on the taxiway and I was too close for safety. I hurriedly released the seat lever – the seat bottomed, leaving me with no forward vision because the Gyro gun-sight blocked the view. I hit full rudder which did nothing because I had inadvertently pulled back on the stick and locking the tail-wheel. Tried hard braking on one pedal causing the Mustang to whip through 45 degrees in a flash.

By sheer good luck I missed hitting Pete’s wingtip and stopped almost parallel to his Mustang. Pete nodded approvingly through his canopy as we had stopped in formation which apparently was a Good Thing with fighter pilots in those days. Of course he never knew the truth that I had nearly cleaned him up in the semi-ground loop. Now perhaps you can see why I identified with the female Mustang ferry pilot who 10 years earlier ground-looped her machine on the snow covered runway during the landing run…

[RobShan]

Thank you for sharing with us.

The term "good airmanship" is unlikely turn up in an ATSB report. However, I think you'll wending your way through the public service language of the ATSB report of the QF32 engine failure, around page 38 you will find praise of of the crew.

[Centaurus]

Here is another example of good airmanship taken from USAF Aerospace Safety magazine for November 1968. Just imagine yourself being in the following predicament. No QRH or ECAM to tell you what to do.:D

Quote: On 4 June 1967 Major Spaeth led a flight of two A-1E Skyraiders that had been diverted to provide emergency close air support for a United States Army Special forces team that was surrounded by a large force of North Vietnamese Army Regulars. He led several bomb and napalm passes on enemy gun positions, encountering intense ground fire. Three gun emplacements were destroyed and Major Spaeth's aircraft sustained at least four damaging hits. His wingman informed him that there were two large holes in the belly tank and fuel was streaming overboard.

At this time the wingman's aircraft, which had taken a hit from 37mm ground fire, lurched violently into Major Spaeth's aircraft, went into an inverted spin and crashed. The collision jerked the control stick from Major Spaeth's hand and caused his Skyraider to roll violently to the right and pitch nose down in an inverted attitude. Engine RPM deteriorated rapidly.

Reacting instinctively, Major Spaeth was able to regain control of the aircraft approximately 300 feet above the ground. The wingman's vertical stabiliser had ripped through the right aileron, bending a large portion of the aileron up to a 45 degree angle. The lower portion of the vertical stabiliser became embedded in a napalm tank hung under the right wing, crushing the tank up into the release rack. The impact turned the wingman's aircraft 90 degrees to Major Spaeth's Skyraider and the propeller cut two large gashes, two feet in length, through the leading edge, severing the pitot tubing.

After jettisoning his ordnance, Major Spaeth discovered that the crushed napalm tank would not release. Napalm jelly flowed over the wing, the engine was surging and he had no airspeed indication. At cruise power, engine operation appeared normal, but full left aileron and left rudder were required to maintain control, and the aircraft still flew with a pronounced right yaw. He elected not to attempt a forced landing for fear that the ignitor plug in the crushed napalm tank would activate. Unable to control the aircraft at what appeared to be normal approach speeds, he seriously considered bailout.

However, he decided to attempt a "hot" landing by establishing a long, flat approach at an estimated 15-20 knots above normal. At a point where almost full control pressures were reuired and the right wing began to drop, Major Spaeth touched down on the right gear, straightened the landing roll and stopped the aircraft safely at the far end of the runway. WELL DONE. Unquote.

For Pprune readers the Skyraider was a single engine tail wheel fighter bomber used for both land and aircraft carrier operations. Google it for pictures.