Page 24 - April 2015 Volume19 Number 4

Alternatesby Gary “Waldo” Peppers“Weather recall” is one hear it in their aux receivers – andof the most hatedtransmissions a fighter pilot ever hears, second maybe only to “Guns kill at thirteen thousand over Quartzite!” My flight heard the dreaded weather recall from the 325th Tactical Fighter Wing SOF (Supervisor of Flying) in the middleof our final air-to-air engagement.It was a 2-versus-1 ACM (Air Combat Maneuvering) training mission in which my star F-15 student, Ken Wilsbach, led by our squadron Weapons Officer,“Bambi” Kiefer, got to beat up on me as the lone bandit. Wilsbach’s objective was to execute the briefed tactics and support his flight lead IP in dispatching the bandit with ruthlessness and celerity. My job was to die like a man.In the first two “canned” set- ups, the bandit was only allowed to maneuver predictably. In the final two set-ups, though, I was allowed free maneuver to fend off the attacking element and even kill them if I could. That was my favorite flying – a high-G, sweat-soaked adrenalin rush with make-believe missiles and imaginary bullets! Usually, the bandit gets beat down on energy and eventually gets shot– on film, anyway. Hence the maxim, “When you’re in a 2v1 fight, try notto be the 1.”On hearing the SOF’s call, Bambi called, “Dusty One flight, knock it off” to terminate our maneuvering. He then called the flight to join up and fence out (safe switches, reset squawks) for the return to base. I switched over to the SOF frequency automatically to acknowledge the recall – Bambi and Wilsbach would22 • TWIN & TURBINEthen joined them on the recovery frequency. Our F-15As had only one UHF transmitter and two UHF receivers. No VHF.Once we joined up close on lead, Wilsbach on the left wing and me on the right, Bambi signaled for a visual fuel check – thumb to his mouth in a drinking gesture. Wilsbach held up two fingers vertical and then one horizontal to signal 2,600 pounds remaining, a thousand pounds less than I had. Wingmen (and students) always use up JP-4 faster than flight leads from jockeying the throttles to maintain position, along with somewhat less judicious use of afterburner while fighting. Still, Bambi had briefed “bingo” as 3,200 pounds, the minimum fuel state for continuing the engagement. Had Wilsbach flown through bingo on that last set-up? Maybe he hadn’t set his bingo bug correctly. As his flight commander, I made a mental note to query him about it in the debrief.The bingo state was established to allow the flight enough fuel to rejoin in the area and recover to the Tyndall AFB traffic pattern with 2,000 pounds on a VFR day. Normal landing fuel was 1,200 pounds;“minimum fuel” was declared at 1,000; and “emergency fuel” was 800. Eglin AFB, 60 miles up the coast, was our closest divert. An F-15 required 1,000 pounds from overhead Tyndall to touchdown at Eglin with tanks dry. I added a hundred pounds to that for each ofmy dependents.Although this was supposed to have been a VFR day, the sight 50 miles to the northwest starkly revealed the cause of the recall. A huge “cumulonympho gluteofractus”hadsprungup inthe vicinity ofPanama City,where Tyndalllay just tothe south. Iestimate its caprose to three timesmy own altitudeof 15,000 feet, stillbubbling upwardwith no sign yet of an anvil top forming. As far as I could see in every direction the sky was clear and placid, except for that one thunder boomer threatening to ruin our day.Approaching the high fix, the start of the long downhill slide into Tyndall, Arrival instructed us to make one left-hand orbit to get spacing on another flight just ahead. The arrival frequency was a continuous jabber of instructions, reports, requests, sequences, and conflict calls. I’ve been on busier frequencies since then – maybe approaching O’Hare on any Sunday evening – but this was close. I marveled that the voices I heard on frequency, with one or two exceptions, were calm and concise in that clipped staccato of urgency maintained by professionals.Burning 100 pounds of jet fuel a minute, we made a 200-pound turn to the left. As we rolled out inbound to the high fix, Bambi made a thumb jerk motion to signal me to take my own spacing. I did another spin to the right, switched on my discreet squawk, and became myAPRIL 2015