Inside the White House's New Combat-Era Transport
The MV-22 Osprey sheds troubled history to become the new swanky ride for the president's entourage.
The MV-22 Osprey from the Marine Corps' HMX-1 squadron sits after landing behind the Gaylord National Resort & Convention Center in National Harbor, Md.
By
Paul D. Shinkman April 8, 2014
SOMEWHERE OVER THE POTOMAC RIVER – A sharply painted hunter green MV-22 Osprey taxies up near a hangar at the sprawling Marine Corps Base Quantico in central coastal Virginia. It has been pouring down rain and the sky is a gray soup of fog. Yet in the time it takes to walk 100 yards to the awaiting hybrid aircraft, the slick, saturated tarmac beneath the massive idling propellers has become bone dry.
It’s the first indication of the massive amounts of power employed by the Osprey – part helicopter, part airplane – that the passengers on this particular flight are about to experience.
The Marine Corps’ HMX-1 squadron, tasked with transporting the president and his entourage, took on the MV-22 as the new tool of their trade last summer. The aircraft that began with a
very troubled development phase has subsequently matured into the workhorse of the Marine Corps, ubiquitous in its presence in Afghanistan and considered essential in long-range crisis response missions such as
Libya or the
Philippines.
It received formal endorsement from the White House last summer to become a primary mode of transportation on executive branch trips for senior presidential staff (excluding the commander-in-chief himself) as well as Secret Service support teams and White House press corps.
The White House did not immediately return requests for comment on the extra expense of these flights.
The Marine Corps wanted to show off its aerial darling Monday at the Navy League’s annual Sea-Air-Space in National Harbor, Md., and flew one of the eight MV-22s assigned to the HMX-1 squadron up along the Potomac River to a construction site behind the convention center.
The total complement of 12 aircraft will have been assigned to the squadron by this summer as the unit completes the transition, says Marine Corps Brig. Gen. Matthew Glavy, the assistant deputy commandant for aviation. He describes the squadron’s shift away from older helicopters, such as the CH-53E and CH-46, as a work of Marine Corps-wide “progress,” trading the aircraft he flew as an HMX-1 pilot for more expensive “state of the art, modern cutting edge capabilities.”
The interior of this particular MV-22 is a strange mixture of executive branch privilege and combat austerity. Passengers sit with their backs to the interior walls in cushy, leather jumpseats with seatbelts akin to a commercial airliner, not the cross-chest strapping used for combat helicopters. But these are still jumpseats, and they are completely flanked by snaking wires, cables, fittings, storage lockers and emergency equipment.
The tail ramp slowly inches closed as rain continues to fall, leaving some space open for the rear crewman to peer outside and relay instructions through his headset to the pilots up front. Another member of the crew up front braces his shoulder against a bulkhead as he peers out another window and converses with the pilots directly.
The Osprey’s ability to lift is smooth – so smooth that those on board this flight almost don’t notice that the aircraft is now airborne. But upon reaching the prescribed altitude, the unique nacelles turn, allowing the propellers to transition from a “vertical take-off” position like a helicopter into a forward position resembling a propeller airplane.
That transition is intense. The entire craft steadily rockets forward, forcing those aboard to lean way back toward the tail until their bodies catch up with the speed.
The Potomac coastline and suburban hamlets whip past the four small windows, each about the size of a pizza box. The aircraft easily makes the 40-mile trip in less than 10 minutes.
It comes to a hover, with Northern Virginia’s Old Town Alexandria bobbing in the distance out the port side window. The forward crew member moves to the starboard window as those on board start feeling the downward pressure.
“Five, four, three,” he says cooly, “two…” [THUMP]
Touchdown. Welcome to National Harbor.