"We'll make it."
An earlier trip with The Colonel.
Ah yes, fuel reserves. What's that?
Back when the Dead Sea was just sick, when men were men and sheep were nervous, I flew with World War Two/Korea era military pilots in Jet Commanders and Lear 24s. Most of them figured that if the engines were still running when you set the parking brake, any fuel left, was reserve. Retired Century Series fighter pilots were some of the worse, old F-100 to F-104 pilots. Hell, two and a half hours of fuel was an unheard luxury to them, without mid-air refueling that is and for some strange reason, only know to the aircraft manufactures and the FAA, Jet Commanders and Lear 24s did not have mid-air refueling capabilities. This bothered some them a great deal.
Most figured that if the Low Level Fuel light did not come on sometime during the descent, you did not get the maximum performance from the aircraft. No, I'm not kidding. I made a few remarks about the lack of ejection seats in Jet Commanders and Lear 24s, but they were not amused.
One night heading back to OKC from DCA, deadhead, I was with this retired full bird Colonel in a Jet Commander. I was sitting in the right seat and smoke was coming off of the whiz wheel I was working it so much and fast. No fancy things as ground speed readouts from the DME in those days, you timed it and figured it out yourself. Well I was doing that and no matter how many times I worked it, we were not going to have enough fuel to make OKC. The best I figured was that the engines would quit somewhere on final. Being a dutiful co-pilot I point this out to the Sky God sitting in the left seat. Also daring to suggest that we stop at SGF or TUL for fuel. Very gutsy of me I must say.
He looked over at me, looking a bit surprised that there was actually someone in the right seat, peered over his reading glasses at me, took his cigar out of his mouth and said, "Naw, we'll make it, got plenty of fuel.'
I thought, 'plenty of fuel huh'. So I twist around and look back at the right wing tip, then I try to look around him to see the left wing tip. This causes him to take the cigar out of his mouth, again, and he inquires into what in the hell was I doing. I replied, "I'm looking for the tip tanks that must have been put on in DCA, to give us enough fuel to make to OKC. I must have missed them on the pre-flight".
This actually amuses him. But, we're still not going to stop for fuel. So I sit there in the right seat, watch SGF go by and a little bit later we are coming up on TUL. So I ask him again, "Still think we can make it?" "Yes."
So I unfasten my seat belt and start to get up. He looks at me, takes his cigar out of his mouth, for a third time, a personal best for me, and again inquires as to what the hell am I doing.
"Going to back of the aircraft, I figure it will hit the ground last after we run out of fuel and I may live if I'm back there."
He was not amused.
I could end this story now and leave everybody wondering, but I will not.
The engines flamed out at about five miles on final and we were killed.
Naw, just kidding.
We stayed at 410 until just passed Tulsa, about 90 miles from OKC, he closed the throttles and didn't touch them again until we landed. The low level* fuel light came on at about five miles out on final.
If it had been marginal VMC at OKC we would have landed and refueled at EVV (Evansville, IN.)
* The low level fuel light came on when either main fuel tank reached 400 pounds, for 800 pounds total remaining on board.