There are very few things to admire about a 0500 brief on a Saturday morning. The Weapons School lost some sorties during the course of the week due to weather, and quality being the measure by which all things are reckoned, they would have to be made up. But still.
Fifteen degrees Fahrenheit on wake-up. Pitch black skies. A division of sleepy fighters in the brief, and seven to eight sleepy bandits. My chief contribution was departure/spin procedures for the jet: “Controls neutral, pitch trim one second forward, check speedbrake in, throttle as set. Passing 180 knots recover, passing 6000 feet recovery not initiated eject. In a spin, stick full into the spin mark in the direction of turns, throttle smoothly idle, recover at 180 knots, passing 6000 feet recovery not initiated eject.”
Awesome.
Unlike the far more advanced customers we service, the aircraft is dead simple. If she starts, and the hydraulics are serviced, you’re good to go, and that in maybe 2 minutes. I spent a good half hour in marshall waiting for the various fourth generation fighters to sort out various grievances before finally it was time to launch.
The upside to a cold day is that the jet leaps into the air – relatively speaking – cold air being denser. I only had time for one impatient glance at the airspeed indicator on take-off rather than my customary several. Once the wheels came up and I accelerated to 300 knots, the vertical speed indicator was pegged at 6000+ feet per minute rate of climb – better than a vertical mile per minute.
My role was to serve as an ambush CAP, hugging the valleys between mountain ranges, hoping to hide myself from the glittering rays of radar beams and their associated lances of radar missiles. I was joined by an F-16, piloted by one of the TOPGUN instructors, who took the lead.
Despite our best efforts, we were detected, and rather than sneaking up behind the fighters and stabbing them in the back – much the preferred tactic in air combat – we were forced to take them head on. The lead got a radar lock and before you could say Nob’s your buncle, we were merged with two Super Hornets.
My lead was offensive on the first one we saw, and I was nobbut a high speed cheerleader. Until I saw another FA-18 sweeping lead’s wingline from the north. It had been a while, gentle reader, since I have had the occasion to tell a wingman to “Break left!” But I spit it out nonetheless and it would have done your soul good to see him hold the two of them off for six or eight months in fighter time. (Maybe a minute and a half. Maybe two.) I was hoping to spit out of the fight a bit and re-enter unobserved, for I can’t win in a turning engagement with an FA-18 who sees me, and those are the hard physics of flight. This hope was dashed in the event, for malgre my tailpipe defense to the fight and my very small visual signature I was found and shot: The breaks of naval air.
Headed back to the field down low to stay out of the way. With plenty of gas left I hugged the deck and shot the gaps between mountains and foothills. Popped up when clear of the fight to fly a ground controlled approach, just for the training that was in it. It’s important to work hard at such things when the conditions are easy to ensure that you can do them when they’re not. And yes, the controller overshot my turn to final. I was on deck by 0830 or so, having flown more Kfirs before 0900 than most will fly in their lifetimes.
At the early brief that morning, one of the TOPGUN instructors asked me when I had been on the staff. Ninety-six to ’98, I told him, adding that I was just thinking of that myself. For the Navy lieutenants and Marine captains had seemed young men back then, back when I was a commander. And that was 14 years ago. The names change, but the faces almost appear the same. They are at once somber and light-hearted, serious and casual.
Some things have changed, but not the important ones. In the debrief, some trivial bit of buffoonery will require pointed ribbing, and all will take it in good humor. But if there’s something that really needs to be said, and heard, the “who” is removed and the “what” is underlined. No one else might have noticed it, but then again they might have. And everyone learns that way.
They’re hard on themselves, I guess they have to be. It’s the price of excellence. If there’s a deviation from the script, they’ll ‘fess up on themselves, because at least that shows they recognized their error(s). Far better to call yourself out on having made a mistake rather than have someone else call it for you. “Viper 2 came out of block with a visual, but no tally”, meaning the wingman had been in sight but not the foe, a potential safety-of-flight violation. The debrief room can at times feel like something of a confessional.
It’s not absolution they’re after, not really. Not even respect, or recognition. It’s the standard of excellence. The awareness of it, and the desire to asymptotically approach that standard. Knowing that perfection can never be anything more than a goal rather than a destination.
And by God, it’s refreshing.
Lex:
Thanks for the post, a fun read as usual. Will you be flying tomorrow?
Paul
In the debrief, some trivial bit of buffoonery will require pointed ribbing, and all will take it in good humor. But if there’s something that really needs to be said, and heard, the “who” is removed and the “what” is underlined. No one else might have noticed it, but then again they might have. And everyone learns that way.
It’s all fun and games. Until it’s not. Many the time I’ve seen the same dynamic in the lowly life of grunts on the line. Grabass aplenty, until the important stuff needs be mentioned.
Thanks to all that that is their focus.
We are in good hands.
They’re hard on themselves, I guess they have to be. It’s the price of excellence. If there’s a deviation from the script, they’ll ‘fess up on themselves, because at least that shows they recognized their error(s). Far better to call yourself out on having made a mistake rather than have someone else call it for you.
I have conducted many classes on leadership as a HR professional and as a mentor to new managers and supervisors, along with counseling jr. petty officers while in the Navy. This basic concept of being honest and upfront about your shortcomings and/or mistakes has always been stressed as it is a sign of being a true professional.
The other lesson I would impart was one passed on to me by one of my Master Chief. He told us, ” A mistake is only a mistake if you repeat it. If you don’t, then it was a learning evolution. Learning evolutions are something that you need on a regular basis to become better at what you do.”
Always listen to the Master Chiefs. They are there to help enlisted and officers alike.
SK1,
Permission to quote you, quoting The Master Chief?
Roger that…..leadership lessons are only good if they are shared….carry on.
I like the pre-flight emergency procedures review. I’m going to start doing that every morning with the instructors at my skydiving school. It shouldn’t take too long and it would keep everybody sharp.
Back in my airtanker days the same attitude prevailed serious when needed- light when needed-sometimes when really needed…
Miss that..
You can write Lex…
I always considered that flying should be serious fun…..serious when it needed to be, fun when it could be.
You wrote:
“And by God, it’s refreshing.”
And that it is. In a world where mediocrity and self prevail, it’s good to read that there are still some areas of life where people care to do better than average. So much is survival of the blandest today.
+ 6.022 x 10²³
Buffoonery-747-400BCF:
At an unanmed Middle East USAF air base last week where the surrounding hills are a bleak desert, one of the USAF ground crew says he fell asleep, and while driving on the well lit ramp, drove into the tail cone of the number two engine at about 10 mph. The pick-up truck is not totaled but it will need a new windshield,a door and a lot of roof metal work. The jet was down for five days as replacement parts (engine tailcone and some fairings) were located in Amsterdam and flown on commercial service to the civilian city closest to the air base, cleared customs and trucked to the base. The other airman in the pick-up truck said he didn’t see or hear anything just prior to the accident. Lost revenue was about $2.0 million, parts, labor and transportation about $.5 million.
Buffoonery-747-400BCF:
At an unanmed Middle East USAF air base last week where the surrounding hills are a bleak desert, one of the USAF ground crew says he fell asleep, and while driving on the well lit ramp, drove into the tail cone of the number two engine at about 10 mph. The pick-up truck is not totaled but it will need a new windshield,a door and a lot of roof metal work. The jet was down for five days as replacement parts (engine tailcone and some fairings) were located in Amsterdam and flown on commercial service to the civilian city closest to the air base, cleared customs and trucked to the base. The other airman in the pick-up truck said he didn’t see or hear anything just prior to the accident. Lost revenue was about $2.0 million, parts, labor and transportation about $.5 million.
0500 Saturday morning brief: Not worth any amount of money, no how.
Recovery low level on a bright winter’s morning: A moment of deep inspiration to the soul that hungers for such.
Professional debrief, by and for professionals: Priceless.
“And by God, it’s refreshing.”
As is this read. I get way too much news.google and all that other stuff…
Classic Lex…and a dig at all of us who must now live vicariously, through his tale telling.
I was on deck by 0830 or so, having flown more Kfirs before 0900 than most will fly in their lifetimes….
Rub it in, Lex. Here, have another 0500 brief. And another. I’ll have a cup of coffee as you lift off and another cup as our valiant forces defend the homeland and defeat the evil ones. That would be you…
Once again, you provided the readers with a most enjoyable journey into your world.
Professionalism is never over-rated. I work with a delightfully driven gang of fellow clinicians at a VA Medical Center. None of us pushes anyone harder than we push ourselves. The language is different from a squadron ready room or an infantry AAR, and the timelines that can lead to calamity for self or others are not quite the same as for you triggerpullers, but the souls on our Blue Team are the same inwardly-focused driven professionals, much as I bet they are for @kbradtc and @sk1 above.
Your stark lessons in the need for excellence are well taken. I suspect they will be useful in my work with physicians in training, reminding them their profession calls for no less seriousness and vigilance during duty hours.
There are very few things to admire about a 0500 brief on a Saturday morning.
Consider, though, that otherwise you might have to work for a living.
You are a mean man, RonF. Of course Lex can be hoisted on his own petard, as it were. I noticed his comments over at the Castle Argghhh a while back concerning a re-post of his own post about Oyster and an in-flight emergency (iirc) in which, in regard to whether naval aviators earn their flt pay, Lex averred in the comments over there that (para, here): “Oh I think SWOs all agree we really earn the flt pay, it’s the base pay they wonder about..” LOL
In one of his early NBA seasons Larry Bird had a miserable free throw percentage. Over the summer he got the keys to a gym, hired a few high school kids, and shot hundreds of free throws every day. In the next season he set an NBA record for highest season-long free throw percentage. He was interviewed and asked whether he felt that his hard work had paid off. He said something along these lines:
“Hard work? My father worked in the Indiana coal mines for 40 years. That was hard work. I play basketball.”
I am haunted by all the premonitions in Lex’s posts on his flying with the Kfir. I’ve been reading through those posts and ut seems like half if them held some then unknown but dark portent.
We’ve lost our St. Exupery.
I am haunted by all the premonitions in Lex’s posts on his flying with the Kfir. I’ve been reading through those posts and ut seems like half if them held some then unknown but dark omen.
We’ve lost our St. Exupery.
“We’ve lost our St. Exupery.”
So very, very, true! All the more reason to get him published!
(And yes, I had that haunted feeling also even at the time, right from the first hi-speed taxi event. I remember thinking to myself at the time that I hoped that it wasn’t an ill omen–a portent of bad things to come, but suppressed the gut feeling. Easy enough to see/say in retrospect, but still..)
Sorry for mispellings! I’m still getting used to this phone.
I agree on all. Lots of signs of danger in retrospect. I didn’t know if all those signs were normal for that kind of environment or not. I think it was a bit much. But easy to say now.