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On both the FID and TR our paraloft was conveniently close to the catwalk, which was conveniently close to where the Intruders were parked. So not many long strolls along the flight deck, which was often slathered in various oils and lubricants. A windy day could send an inattentive crewmember skating across the gnarled surface.
Very cool to see this Hustler sitting in its brand new building. This guy is #4 of 116 made (0663) and only 1 of 8 on display in the world.
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On September 13, 1985, Maj. Doug Pearson took off from Edwards Air Force Base in an F-15 with an 18 foot, 2,700 pound missile under the belly and one target: an American satellite called Solwind, launched in 1979, worn out, and orbiting 345 miles above the Pacific at 17,500 miles an hour.
The Air Force wanted to prove a fighter jet could reach into space. Pearson had spent 6 years leading the program. The first attempt, on September 4, had been stopped by a court injunction while he waited in the officers' club for the go.
About 200 miles west of Vandenberg, flying at Mach 1.22, he pulled 3.8 G into a 65 degree climb. At 38,100 feet, slowing back through the speed of sound, the missile launched itself automatically. There was no explosive in the warhead. The 30 pound interceptor was designed to simply run into the 2,000 pound satellite at a closing speed of 15,000 miles an hour.
Then Pearson had nothing to look at. He would never see the hit.
So he and a friend named Scott in the control room had worked out a code.
"I'd tell him, 'I'm going to level off at 36,000 feet.' And if we've had a successful intercept, you'll say, 'Roger, Aggie-1. That's a good altitude.'"
He made the call. Scott answered: that's a good altitude.
The satellite was gone.
Congress banned further tests the following year. No pilot has fired at a satellite since. Pearson retired as a major general.
The jet kept flying for another 25 years. On September 13, 2007, 22 years to the day, F-15A 76-0084 was sitting on the ramp at Homestead, Florida, with "Celestial Eagle" painted on the nose. The pilot who climbed in was Capt. Todd Pearson, wearing the same shoulder patch his father had worn in 1985.
1st Lieutenant Edwin L. King, a United States Army Air Forces P-47 Thunderbolt pilot, had just climbed out of his badly damaged fighter in Italy during the Allied air campaign of 1944.
His plane was struck by German anti-aircraft fire while he was conducting a low-level attack on ground targets, a mission the Thunderbolt often took on as Allied forces advanced north through the Italian peninsula.
A burst of flak tore through an oil line in the massive Pratt & Whitney R-2800 Double Wasp radial engine. Almost instantly, oil gushed out under pressure, flooding the engine compartment before being blown back into the cockpit. The thick oil coated the canopy and windscreen, nearly blinding King and making it incredibly difficult to see his instruments or the terrain below.
Despite this, he kept the damaged aircraft under control and headed for friendly territory. The P,47 was famous for its toughness, and even with its engine starved of lubrication, it was able to keep running long enough for King to reach an Allied airfield.
Only moments after he touched down, the R,2800 seized up completely, its internal parts destroyed by the lack of oil.
Missions over Italy were especially dangerous, with German flak batteries positioned around roads, bridges and troop concentrations, forcing Allied pilots to fly straight into heavy fire.
I may have told this story before but I'm old and can't remember.
The night we went in during the first Gulf War I shook my pilots hand and helped him strap into our EF111. He tucked his straw 10 gallon out of the way and was pretty dang chipper..
It was a different story when I recovered him. He pulled me aside and told me he had shit his flight suit and the seat cushion was a mess. I stole a cushion from the Cann bird and put the plane to bed.
I went to ops to see if I could view some video of the mission. I couldn't believe what I saw. The amount of shit he flew through was unbelievable. How any of them survived is a miracle.
The next night he did it again...and again...and again. I know what the definition of guts is.
Wow, PB I do not recall hearing that story! 😲
Yeah Fighter pilots of all generations are definitely true heroes.
Pit Row
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