Air Display 'C*ck Ups'
I don't own this space under my name. I should have leased it while I still could
When they opened the Gateway Arch in St Louis
part of the celebration was to have a skydiving demonstration, probably to fly through it. Well for some reason he landed on the top of it which was ok until a gust of wind took the canopy and blew him off into what became a fatal fall. Unfortunately his family was in the crowd watching.
part of the celebration was to have a skydiving demonstration, probably to fly through it. Well for some reason he landed on the top of it which was ok until a gust of wind took the canopy and blew him off into what became a fatal fall. Unfortunately his family was in the crowd watching.
I don't own this space under my name. I should have leased it while I still could
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yLuF1BK4GtA
I recall on a 'proon' thread at the time somebody remarking that had the display been over land the driver would have wound up in the middle of a burning pile of scrap metal. (As it was I believe he suffered a broken ankle
)
I recall on a 'proon' thread at the time somebody remarking that had the display been over land the driver would have wound up in the middle of a burning pile of scrap metal. (As it was I believe he suffered a broken ankle
)
the Chinook at Abingdon losing a rear U/C leg whilst reverse hover-taxiing a few years ago.
Last edited by Pontius Navigator; 10th Nov 2006 at 21:45.
To set the Bournemouth record straight - The pilot didn't 'mess it up'. The ac was one of 2 F4s departing and left the runway during takeoff - no 'first landing', no burst tyre. The pilot continued the takeoff and eventually landed at Lyneham.
Soz bunta about the timing
Soz bunta about the timing
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Probably given a very early bum steer by the directional consultant...............or maybe he utilised the command eject thing to get rid of the smell of wee...........we will probably never know
all spelling mistakes are "df" alcohol induced
all spelling mistakes are "df" alcohol induced
aceatco, retired
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Ahhhhh, the Clophill village fete, dog show and air display . . . . From the early 90s I use to be on site with a bit of RT just to keep an eye on things. I've worked a B52 from the village roof on UHF . . .
Summer 1967, Vauxhall Sports Day 1nm west of Luton's runway 08 threshold. Dragon Rapide holding for a para drop. Bristol Britannia on final for rwy 08.
Controller: "G-xx, do not drop, do not drop, I say again, do not dr . . Oh dear, I see you have"
Controller to Britannia: "parachutists dropping 1nm on final approach"
Britannia pilot, starting to weave: "It's OK, I was at Arnhem"
Summer 1967, Vauxhall Sports Day 1nm west of Luton's runway 08 threshold. Dragon Rapide holding for a para drop. Bristol Britannia on final for rwy 08.
Controller: "G-xx, do not drop, do not drop, I say again, do not dr . . Oh dear, I see you have"
Controller to Britannia: "parachutists dropping 1nm on final approach"
Britannia pilot, starting to weave: "It's OK, I was at Arnhem"
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Just a guess Mova,
But I'd suggest that the airflow over the wing had reached a speed where it was producing a low pressure on the upper surface and a corresponding high pressure on the lower surface. Couple that with a positive angle of attack, and I'd guess that Physics would do the rest.
And your next stupid question.................
But I'd suggest that the airflow over the wing had reached a speed where it was producing a low pressure on the upper surface and a corresponding high pressure on the lower surface. Couple that with a positive angle of attack, and I'd guess that Physics would do the rest.
And your next stupid question.................
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Well perhaps banging out was not the wisest choice he could have made then.
Is there not something else you could be doing, rather than Trolling, Movadinkampa747?
Is there not something else you could be doing, rather than Trolling, Movadinkampa747?
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Knocked over an occupied portaloo as well as treading and skidding through bovine and elephant dung on various military and civvy parachute demo jumps. Also had a low level malfunction where they sent the ambulance to pick up the corpse. The canopy inflated behind a line of trees and one had a ten second canopy ride before impact. Met the ambulance as I was strolling back and was asked where the body was. Thought one of the other guys had bounced and spent a few minutes wandering around the area with the ambulancemen looking for myself before it dawned on me what they were after.
The worst was doing a jump in high winds with a four man team and being the only person to make it into the target area, although one did so at speed as one's parachute repacked itself in a rotor 60' off the ground. The sudden arrival interrupted the commentator and caused one to be dragged off to the local hospital with a broken back, thankfully now held together with titanium and damned near bulletproof.
One was young and adventurous in them days...
The worst was doing a jump in high winds with a four man team and being the only person to make it into the target area, although one did so at speed as one's parachute repacked itself in a rotor 60' off the ground. The sudden arrival interrupted the commentator and caused one to be dragged off to the local hospital with a broken back, thankfully now held together with titanium and damned near bulletproof.
One was young and adventurous in them days...
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Two Antipodean ones, both from a long time ago.
First, RAAF Williamtown, sometime in the late 50’s…
(… and this one must have grown in the telling. Milt, are you out there to give us the original, ‘ungrown’ version?)
The Avon Sabre was very much the shiny new pride and joy of Knucksville at the time. Someone gets the bright idea that they can do a live air to air gunnery display at the airshow, (technically do-able because Saltash Gunnery Range and the blue Pacific Oggin are both virtually on the station boundary), and… to add to the drama, that same someone suggests that to really thrill the crowd, they pipe the terse, clipped, no-nonsense radio chatter of the wide of shoulder, tight of hip, steely-eyed air warriors over the airshow PA.
The organizers acknowledge that most of the crowd won’t understand three words in four of the jargon-filled radio chatter, but hey, that’s almost the point of the whole exercise, isn’t it?
With much heavy breathing and loud clicks and squelches over the airshow PA as they check in and change channels, a four ship Sabre formation makes its way to the threshold and gets airborne.
Following them is a single Sabre, which will tow the target drogue. Much more heavy breathing over the PA as he gets airborne, dragging the brightly painted drogue many hundreds of metres behind him. He circles, flies a low-ish pass northbound parallel to the coast and towards the range boundary as Maple Hipshot Section is “cleared in live”… and all this very loud over the airshow PA.
From the south east, and more or less behind the crowd’s heads, the first Sabre approaches to make its gunnery pass, fires a short burst from its 30mm Aden guns.. which neatly cuts the drogue wire… approximately three feet behind the tail of the tow aircraft. The last call before the PA clicks into a very deep silence, and clearly understood by everyone in the crowd, (and no one is sure to this day if it was made by the target towing pilot or by Maple Hipshot One), is the rather non standard call of “Holy snaffling duck****!”
End of air to air gunnery display at airshow, that day and forever more.
****
Second, 1972. RAAF Fairbairn (Canberra). Not nearly as exciting, but it certainly got the crowd’s attention. Very hot day in the middle of yet another protracted Australian drought. Eight ship Huey formation brings in a bunch of grunts who, with much firing of many blank cartridges, conduct a ‘hot insert’ combat assault (or ‘comic insult’, as they were universally known), onto the field. At least one Huey has smoke flares wired to its skids, which are activated as the choppers start the approach, giving a very satisfactory ‘Apocalypse Now’ effect years before the film was released.
Hueys land on, as guns blazing, troops de-plane onto very dry and rather long grass right in front of large crowd, Hueys exit stage left, but not before very hot smoke flare canisters on skids set fire to the long grass. Discretion fast becoming the better part of valour, troops discontinue attack and get the *** away from what is fast becoming a fully fledged bush fire. Apart from large crowd, on grass is also parked a goodly array of the RAAF’s very expensive front line inventory of aircraft and equipment – and all downwind from fire.
Airshow pauses not particularly briefly while Base Fire Section and many suddenly pressed volunteers spray, stomp and beat fire into submission.
Ahhhh,, the good old days….
First, RAAF Williamtown, sometime in the late 50’s…
(… and this one must have grown in the telling. Milt, are you out there to give us the original, ‘ungrown’ version?)
The Avon Sabre was very much the shiny new pride and joy of Knucksville at the time. Someone gets the bright idea that they can do a live air to air gunnery display at the airshow, (technically do-able because Saltash Gunnery Range and the blue Pacific Oggin are both virtually on the station boundary), and… to add to the drama, that same someone suggests that to really thrill the crowd, they pipe the terse, clipped, no-nonsense radio chatter of the wide of shoulder, tight of hip, steely-eyed air warriors over the airshow PA.
The organizers acknowledge that most of the crowd won’t understand three words in four of the jargon-filled radio chatter, but hey, that’s almost the point of the whole exercise, isn’t it?
With much heavy breathing and loud clicks and squelches over the airshow PA as they check in and change channels, a four ship Sabre formation makes its way to the threshold and gets airborne.
Following them is a single Sabre, which will tow the target drogue. Much more heavy breathing over the PA as he gets airborne, dragging the brightly painted drogue many hundreds of metres behind him. He circles, flies a low-ish pass northbound parallel to the coast and towards the range boundary as Maple Hipshot Section is “cleared in live”… and all this very loud over the airshow PA.
From the south east, and more or less behind the crowd’s heads, the first Sabre approaches to make its gunnery pass, fires a short burst from its 30mm Aden guns.. which neatly cuts the drogue wire… approximately three feet behind the tail of the tow aircraft. The last call before the PA clicks into a very deep silence, and clearly understood by everyone in the crowd, (and no one is sure to this day if it was made by the target towing pilot or by Maple Hipshot One), is the rather non standard call of “Holy snaffling duck****!”
End of air to air gunnery display at airshow, that day and forever more.
****
Second, 1972. RAAF Fairbairn (Canberra). Not nearly as exciting, but it certainly got the crowd’s attention. Very hot day in the middle of yet another protracted Australian drought. Eight ship Huey formation brings in a bunch of grunts who, with much firing of many blank cartridges, conduct a ‘hot insert’ combat assault (or ‘comic insult’, as they were universally known), onto the field. At least one Huey has smoke flares wired to its skids, which are activated as the choppers start the approach, giving a very satisfactory ‘Apocalypse Now’ effect years before the film was released.
Hueys land on, as guns blazing, troops de-plane onto very dry and rather long grass right in front of large crowd, Hueys exit stage left, but not before very hot smoke flare canisters on skids set fire to the long grass. Discretion fast becoming the better part of valour, troops discontinue attack and get the *** away from what is fast becoming a fully fledged bush fire. Apart from large crowd, on grass is also parked a goodly array of the RAAF’s very expensive front line inventory of aircraft and equipment – and all downwind from fire.
Airshow pauses not particularly briefly while Base Fire Section and many suddenly pressed volunteers spray, stomp and beat fire into submission.
Ahhhh,, the good old days….
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Riat Migs
At the infamous RIAT I was hosting a lunch table in the chalet of a "leading US defence contractor". The guests of honour were the US Brig. Gen. who commanded the KC-135s supporting operations in the Balkans and the Russian Admiral who's Bear D (if I recall correctly) was in static. (I think it was the first time the Sovs had been to RIAT?).
The lunch was very uncomfortable, largely because the US General's young MA insisted on making loud derogatory comments about the Admiral - all of which were translated to the taciturn matelow by his charming MA. I spent most the lunch trying to distract the Admiral from obnoxious yank - with little success. He was getting increasingly irritated and I would love to know what he was actually saying as he muttered comments to his MA.
I managed to talk to the US tanker bod and he invited me, after lunch, to take a look at his '135. When it was finally polite to break up the lunch we pottered along the static line and climbed the ladder into the jet. Once inside I could see that this was where the real party was. The whole of the rear cabin had been decked with astroturf and a spare engine in a case had also been covered in AT and turned into a bar. A good time was being had by all and we quickly availed ourselves of a couple of rocket fuel margheritas.
We took our seats on the flight deck - me in the left, he in the right and he showed me the recent upgrades, including GPS. The two MIGs swept passed and, as they say, the rest is history. We both let out the same expletive at the same moment and, after a couple of seconds I said "I see one", he said "I see the other". We sat stunned as the wreckage littered down wondering how many on the ground might be underneath it.
Suddenly it wasn't a party any more and he said, "I'd better go back and pay my respects to the Admiral". We walked back to the chalet amid thousands of bewildered spectators and the ever increasing sound of sirens. We we got back to the chalet and sought-out the Admiral who was, by this time, somewhat dishevelled and more than a little "left-handed and dyslexic". The American expressed his sympathies and hoped the crew were alright. The Admiral shrugged, grunted "Air Force" and went back to his Scotch.
The lunch was very uncomfortable, largely because the US General's young MA insisted on making loud derogatory comments about the Admiral - all of which were translated to the taciturn matelow by his charming MA. I spent most the lunch trying to distract the Admiral from obnoxious yank - with little success. He was getting increasingly irritated and I would love to know what he was actually saying as he muttered comments to his MA.
I managed to talk to the US tanker bod and he invited me, after lunch, to take a look at his '135. When it was finally polite to break up the lunch we pottered along the static line and climbed the ladder into the jet. Once inside I could see that this was where the real party was. The whole of the rear cabin had been decked with astroturf and a spare engine in a case had also been covered in AT and turned into a bar. A good time was being had by all and we quickly availed ourselves of a couple of rocket fuel margheritas.
We took our seats on the flight deck - me in the left, he in the right and he showed me the recent upgrades, including GPS. The two MIGs swept passed and, as they say, the rest is history. We both let out the same expletive at the same moment and, after a couple of seconds I said "I see one", he said "I see the other". We sat stunned as the wreckage littered down wondering how many on the ground might be underneath it.
Suddenly it wasn't a party any more and he said, "I'd better go back and pay my respects to the Admiral". We walked back to the chalet amid thousands of bewildered spectators and the ever increasing sound of sirens. We we got back to the chalet and sought-out the Admiral who was, by this time, somewhat dishevelled and more than a little "left-handed and dyslexic". The American expressed his sympathies and hoped the crew were alright. The Admiral shrugged, grunted "Air Force" and went back to his Scotch.
Yes, Him
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Finningley BoB show early 1960s, a Dutch Navy Bregeut Atlantic display culminates with the Cloggie commentator saying something like: "Now, in return for the RAF's airdrops of food to Holland in 1945, we give you something back. Chocolate!!".
Atlantic runs in just off display line, opens weapons bay and hundreds of balloons with sweets in them fall out. Thousands of kids leap over barriers and chase balloons over the runway. All Service folk in uniform dispatched to round up kids. Display stopped for 20min and rest of afternoon punctuated by tannoy calls trying to re-unite kids with parents. Priceless.
I think the Atlantic crew legged it home and left the commentator to face the Staish.
Atlantic runs in just off display line, opens weapons bay and hundreds of balloons with sweets in them fall out. Thousands of kids leap over barriers and chase balloons over the runway. All Service folk in uniform dispatched to round up kids. Display stopped for 20min and rest of afternoon punctuated by tannoy calls trying to re-unite kids with parents. Priceless.
I think the Atlantic crew legged it home and left the commentator to face the Staish.
Below the Glidepath - not correcting
3 Regt AAC were on a major FTX on Germany around 1987-88 and had been selected for a visit by about 200 Warsaw Pact bods from the Arms Proliferation Team. Coachloads of Russians, Poles Czechs etc, with their NATO minders tip up at a big Farm, where they have laid on a Refueling and Rearming (FARP) demo involving a pair of Lynx. Ops call "go" on the radio, and the two aircraft, which are cunningly concealed over the ridgeline (and being Lynx, can therefore only be heard as far way as Belgium) come roaring over the hill and down the slope towards the FARP.
Now the key words there were "down the slope", which however gentle, was still a slope. The lead aircraft, which was being flown by the RN Exchange pilot, was doing a fair lick over the sugar beet field towards the Fuel Bowser and the rearming crews, all laid out with TOW rounds, when Jolly Jack Tar proves beyond all doubt that the Navy have bigger flares then everybody else. Forgetting, or not realising, that the ground is rising behind him (maybe the ocean is flat where he comes from) the inevitable happens, the tail rotor hits the mud, shears the drives shaft, and at that point Isaac Newton proves he is still a force to be reckoned with, especially that whole "for every action there is an opposite and equal' thing, and the Lynx starts to spin around over the top of the ground crew with missiles and hoses.
The Main Rotor actually sliced the through the bowser hose, which was lying on the ground, before the quick reactions from a young and impressionable AAC Lt in the other seat had the both ECLs chopped and the Lynx on the ground in a heartbeat. The refuelling SNCO cut the Bowser feed and stopped the fuel going everywhere very swiftly and the guys laid out on the ground started to check themseleves for mssing bits as the silence descended.
At about this point everyone looked across to see 200 Warsaw Pact visitors open mouthed with amazement at this very frank and open demonstration of British Military prowess in front of the(then) arch enemy! You've never seen so many lackeys work so fast to get 200 people back on the buses and out of there.
Very lucky no groundcrew were killed and it was a classic case of showing off in front of an audience, with unfortunate but not fatal consquences. Thank God the Russians gave up shortly afterwards, they knew they had nothing to fear from us, other than some tenderness caused by side-splitting.
Now the key words there were "down the slope", which however gentle, was still a slope. The lead aircraft, which was being flown by the RN Exchange pilot, was doing a fair lick over the sugar beet field towards the Fuel Bowser and the rearming crews, all laid out with TOW rounds, when Jolly Jack Tar proves beyond all doubt that the Navy have bigger flares then everybody else. Forgetting, or not realising, that the ground is rising behind him (maybe the ocean is flat where he comes from) the inevitable happens, the tail rotor hits the mud, shears the drives shaft, and at that point Isaac Newton proves he is still a force to be reckoned with, especially that whole "for every action there is an opposite and equal' thing, and the Lynx starts to spin around over the top of the ground crew with missiles and hoses.
The Main Rotor actually sliced the through the bowser hose, which was lying on the ground, before the quick reactions from a young and impressionable AAC Lt in the other seat had the both ECLs chopped and the Lynx on the ground in a heartbeat. The refuelling SNCO cut the Bowser feed and stopped the fuel going everywhere very swiftly and the guys laid out on the ground started to check themseleves for mssing bits as the silence descended.
At about this point everyone looked across to see 200 Warsaw Pact visitors open mouthed with amazement at this very frank and open demonstration of British Military prowess in front of the(then) arch enemy! You've never seen so many lackeys work so fast to get 200 people back on the buses and out of there.
Very lucky no groundcrew were killed and it was a classic case of showing off in front of an audience, with unfortunate but not fatal consquences. Thank God the Russians gave up shortly afterwards, they knew they had nothing to fear from us, other than some tenderness caused by side-splitting.
Avoid imitations
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Igloowhite
I remember that accident very well indeed! I took a "static display" Puma along. My crewman and I had by coincidence just arrived at the aircraft from opposite directions and the groundcrew had just finished carrying out a daily check, although the cowlings were still open as he was showing a mate of his around the aircraft. All the blade ties and engine blanks etc were fitted.
Having quite recently come back from a fixed wing tour involving quite a bit of formation flying, I was following the progress of the two Migs closely. I realised that the pilot reponsible for separation had lost sight of the other aircraft in the "joining" loop, due to a wisp of cloud between them. I probably realised that he was going to collide before he did. When the collision came, it was if it was in slow motion.
One blazing aircraft fell into the live aircraft park, the other outside the airfield. Knowing there was a village and a caravan park near there, we thought it was another "Ramstein situation". I said to the effect that we would immediately ready the aircraft. The G/C shut the cowlings as myself and the crewnman took off the blade ties etc. I jumped in the seat, switched on the battery as I strapped myself in. As I did the pre-start checks the G/C coporal poked the completed F700 in through the window, which I signed. The crewman appeared and showed me the tail rotor locks to prove they were off (no point us adding to the chaos!) and I started the aircraft. We were ready almost immediately and I called ATC to inform them who we were, where we were and that we were ready to lift to assist if required.
The answer was "Yes please - lift immediately, cross the runway and land by the hangar with the B-52 mural on the wall!"
We lifted vertically from the static park, scattering the wailing crowd. We landed on and it only dawned on us a while afterwards that we had beaten the official SAR aircraft, which had been parked a couple of hundred yards away from us, by quite some time. (The Puma was much quicker to start and get airborne than the old Wessex, particularly if you didn't wait for the gyros to come up to speed and were prepared to take off without the autopilot/stabs engaged).
After a short while we were requested to take one of the Russian pilots to hospital. As the situation unfolded, to everyone's relief there were no ground casualties. The pilot hadn't been brought to us so we advised ATC that it would be better for the SAR aircraft to take the pilot. We shut down and went for a walk around the fallen debris in the aircraft park instead and listened to some amazing stories about people's close shaves!
I remember that accident very well indeed! I took a "static display" Puma along. My crewman and I had by coincidence just arrived at the aircraft from opposite directions and the groundcrew had just finished carrying out a daily check, although the cowlings were still open as he was showing a mate of his around the aircraft. All the blade ties and engine blanks etc were fitted.
Having quite recently come back from a fixed wing tour involving quite a bit of formation flying, I was following the progress of the two Migs closely. I realised that the pilot reponsible for separation had lost sight of the other aircraft in the "joining" loop, due to a wisp of cloud between them. I probably realised that he was going to collide before he did. When the collision came, it was if it was in slow motion.
One blazing aircraft fell into the live aircraft park, the other outside the airfield. Knowing there was a village and a caravan park near there, we thought it was another "Ramstein situation". I said to the effect that we would immediately ready the aircraft. The G/C shut the cowlings as myself and the crewnman took off the blade ties etc. I jumped in the seat, switched on the battery as I strapped myself in. As I did the pre-start checks the G/C coporal poked the completed F700 in through the window, which I signed. The crewman appeared and showed me the tail rotor locks to prove they were off (no point us adding to the chaos!) and I started the aircraft. We were ready almost immediately and I called ATC to inform them who we were, where we were and that we were ready to lift to assist if required.
The answer was "Yes please - lift immediately, cross the runway and land by the hangar with the B-52 mural on the wall!"
We lifted vertically from the static park, scattering the wailing crowd. We landed on and it only dawned on us a while afterwards that we had beaten the official SAR aircraft, which had been parked a couple of hundred yards away from us, by quite some time. (The Puma was much quicker to start and get airborne than the old Wessex, particularly if you didn't wait for the gyros to come up to speed and were prepared to take off without the autopilot/stabs engaged).
After a short while we were requested to take one of the Russian pilots to hospital. As the situation unfolded, to everyone's relief there were no ground casualties. The pilot hadn't been brought to us so we advised ATC that it would be better for the SAR aircraft to take the pilot. We shut down and went for a walk around the fallen debris in the aircraft park instead and listened to some amazing stories about people's close shaves!