Socrates'N Suitcase

Even though chief test pilot “Wheaties Welch” had recently been killed, due to a directional stability problem, the airplane was not grounded and I continued to fly the F-100 until November 7—the day I was hit hard by the fickle finger of fate. I was testing the F-100’s gun sights—azimuth, elevation, rate of closure—on a Northrop F-89 all weather fighter at 40,000 ft. over Pt. Mugu. When it was time to go home, I did a ‘split s’ and opened death’s door. At about 33,000 ft. the airplane took a horrific nose-right yaw as I reached Mach 1.1 (considering the density of the air and temperature I was doing about 737 mph). I was in at least a 70-75 degree dive. Welch’s accident flashed before my eyes; and the findings of the accident investigation board—“the unprecedented high angle of yaw—disintegration—chunks of metal—death.” But Welch was doing the final structural integrity test—inducing a high ‘G’ load. I wasn’t about to start pulling on the stick. Jesus!! What the hell’s happening here. I’m damn near going sideways at 28,000 feet in the transonic speed range---about the length of 3.5 footballs fields per second. Come on, Suitcase, you got yourself into this thing—THINK!! BE CALM!. I pulled the throttle to idle and slowly added left rudder only, then pulled back on the stick a little bit, and then added a little left aileron. I was still haulin’ ass—down!! I wouldn’t dare make an asymmetrical pull out—it would twist the airplane like giant hands wringing out a wet towel. I continued the same pattern—little aileron, little rudder—little back pressure on the stick.. Malibu was getting bigger through my canopy—bigger! My puckered ass was getting smaller and smaller. More rudder!! More pitch input!! More aileron!! Now I was looking at Santa Monica. My pitch angle was smaller. I was making progress. I was also getting closer to the ground! I finally had the wings level-—and the yaw angle was zero. All the while I continued to crack the speed break—a very little bit at a time. My nose was now pointed to Marina del Rey—along the water’s edge. I was making it!! Finally!! I pulled out straight and level heading for Playa del Rey at 1200 ft. I rolled right and climbed a bit staying away from the take-off pattern at LA International. “This shouldn’t happen to a fighter pilot,” I said to myself. “North American has got to look again into to the YF-100 tail.”

I stayed south and west of the airport and tested my flight controls. I flew a simulated landing pattern with gear ‘UP’. Everything seemed OK so I called the tower for landing. My mind was racing but I had to concentrate on my landing as I flew on downwind, base, and final. The landing was OK but the chute didn’t work and the end of the runway was racing toward me. I got the big hunk stopped. I relaxed a little; but as I was taxiing to the North American area I noticed everyone looking at the airplane. I pulled into the revetment, stop-cocked the throttle, went through the normal ‘end of flight procedures’ and watched a crowd gather around the tail of the airplane. When I climbed down from the cockpit I went to the rear of the plane and joined them. I was shocked at what I saw. The aluminum on the whole right side of the vertical stabilized was torn away due to ‘tin canning’ effect. Structural, aerodynamic, materials, design engineers and project office personnel were soon there. The Air Force office and North American, and I, (by that I mean I was invited to attend) held an intense meeting until 11 o’clock that night. Every ‘wheel’ in the company was there. I went over my flight ten times or so—a ‘split s’ away from the F-89 followed by the severe yaw at, I would guess, Mach 1.1. I had to guess because my head wasn’t in the cockpit. I had no problem with telling the truth. As an acceptance test pilot I was doing what any fighter pilot worth his salted ass would do. When it’s time for ‘beer call’ the shortest distance between altitude and home base is a straight line. I said, “I didn’t even think of the Welch accident. He was an experimental test pilot on a structural integrity flight and I am an acceptance test pilot on an operational suitability flight.” I was standing. I then looked directly at Col. Coberly and Maj. Woolfolk and back to Coberly and said, “Sir, you backed me as F-100 project pilot and I must in good conscience, with your permission, tell these gentlemen what I think.”

He looked at me—long and hard. I could tell from his eyes he was on my side. After a few moments he said, “Tell us what you think, Lt.”

The room was silent. Everyone was looking at the asshole with a total of about 50 test flights in the F-100.

I said, “Sir, with the present F-100A configuration, I think we are delivering these aircraft to fighter pilots with no supersonic experience and also exposing them to the hazards of directional instability and inertia coupling. At the same time we are giving them an unsafe weapons system due to PIO.” PIO means pilot induced oscillations, or minimum stick force per G.

I stood my place—rigid. Dead silence. But they knew. They had many clues. And they listened. The whole plant rep’s office backed me.

On November 8, a visiting RAF officer, Georffrey D. Stephenson, was killed at Eglin AFB when his F-100A went out of control and crashed. He was killed. A ‘PIO’ problem.

On November 9, Major Frank N. Emory’s F-100A went out of control and crashed during a practice gunnery mission over Nevada. Fortunately, Major Emory was able to eject safely.

The Welch accident and my close call came into play. On November 10, the USAF grounded the entire F-100A fleet, which by this time numbered about seventy aircraft. An additional 108 Super Sabres had been completed and were awaiting delivery at the factory. There were several F-100A’s located at Nellis AFB. The commanding general would not allow his pilots to fly the aircraft. Two production test pilots and I flew eight sorties to the base and picked them up. On one return trip we set an unofficial speed record between Las Vegas and LA International. The time was 23.046 minutes. Why was the flight unofficial? Two reasons; the planes belonged to the Air Force and only they, rightly so, break records. “Well,” you say, “you’re in the Air Force.” Right! But not to break records in a grounded aircraft. These particular ‘100s were cleared for one flight only—straight and narrow. Just like the kind of life I lead! If you believe that, I have a bridge in Brooklyn I'd like to sell you!