Historic Aircraft from back in the day

G-man wrote:

On this day, October 16, in 1956, Pan Am Flight 6 was halfway between Honolulu and San Francisco in the middle of the night, with 31...

On this day, October 16, in 1956, Pan Am Flight 6 was halfway between Honolulu and San Francisco in the middle of the night, with 31 people aboard, when its first engine ran away.

The plane was a Boeing 377 Stratocruiser, Clipper Sovereign of the Skies, a huge double-deck piston airliner. At 1:19 a.m., just after it climbed to 21,000 feet, the propeller on engine number 1 began to overspeed, and the crew couldn’t feather it. They cut the engine’s oil until it seized, but the propeller kept windmilling, dragging on the wing. At 2:45 a.m., engine number 4 on the other wing started backfiring and had to be shut down too.

Captain Richard Ogg had 20 years and more than 13,000 hours of flying behind him. His navigator ran the numbers on 2 engines: the fuel would run out about 250 miles short of land.

But in the middle of the ocean sat the Coast Guard cutter Pontchartrain, on station at a post called Ocean Station November. Ogg told the ship he was coming down next to it.

He didn’t rush. He circled the cutter in the dark, burning off fuel to make the plane lighter and waiting for daylight so he could see the water. The Coast Guard radioed him the wind and the waves and laid a trail of foam across the sea to mark the heading they recommended. Ogg expected the tail to break off when he hit the water, so he moved everyone to the front of the plane.

At 6:15 a.m., he put the Stratocruiser down at about 100 miles per hour. A wing caught a swell, the plane spun nearly all the way around and the tail broke off, just as he expected. Passengers and crew got into the rafts or were pulled from the water by the cutter’s boats. Ogg and the purser, Patricia Reynolds, were the last 2 off the plane. 20 minutes after it touched the water, the last of it sank.

All 31 survived. Injuries were minor; an 18-month-old girl bumped her head.

The Coast Guard crew filmed the landing and the rescue from the cutter, and the footage became an official Coast Guard film.

53 years later, the world called Sully’s landing on the Hudson a miracle. Captain Ogg had already done it on the open Pacific, at first light, with everyone home safe.

ShellyMX wrote:

TeamGreen wrote:

AF A7…?

G-man wrote:

Wow, another historical Aviation moment I never knew about! 😲In 1953, the U.S. Military was desperate.The Soviet-built MiG-15 had taken the skies in the Korean War...

Wow, another historical Aviation moment I never knew about! 😲

In 1953, the U.S. Military was desperate.

The Soviet-built MiG-15 had taken the skies in the Korean War, completely shocking UN forces. It was fast, agile, and deadly. Worse yet, communist pilots were ordered never to fly over UN territory to prevent one from being captured.

So, the U.S. Far East Command launched Operation Moolah:

$100,000 cash (around $1.2M today) + political asylum to the first pilot who delivered an intact MiG-15.

They dropped leaflets and broadcasted the offer across the region. But throughout the entire war... nobody came.

Then, two months after the fighting stopped, history took a bizarre turn.

On a morning in September 1953, a 21-year-old North Korean lieutenant named No Kum-sok boarded his MiG-15 near Pyongyang.

He took off, pointed the nose south, and throttled up.

17 minutes later, pure chaos unfolded at Kimpo Air Base near Seoul:

U.S. radar was conveniently down for routine maintenance.

No flew in totally undetected.

He landed downwind - the completely wrong direction on a active runway.

Ground crews assumed his plane was an American F-86 Sabre... until they spotted the red stars on his wings.

When he stepped out of the cockpit, he wasn't looking for a payday. He had never even heard of the $100,000 reward.

North Korean pilots were banned from listening to foreign radio, and the U.S. leaflets had been dropped in the wrong zones. He simply wanted freedom.

President Eisenhower initially opposed paying defectors, but the U.S. honored the deal anyway. In 1954, No received his $100,000 check. He placed it in a trust, using the interest to fund his college education and support his family.

Legendary test pilot Chuck Yeager flew the captured MiG in Okinawa to evaluate Soviet engineering.

The U.S. publicly offered to return the jet to its "rightful owners." Unsurprisingly, no communist nation claimed it.

No moved to the United States, changed his name to Kenneth Rowe, and reunited with his mother (who had escaped North Korea two years prior).

He earned an engineering degree from the University of Delaware, became a U.S. citizen, and spent his career as an aeronautical engineer for industry giants like Boeing and Lockheed. Later, he spent 17 years passing on his knowledge as a professor at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University before passing away in 2022 at age 90.

Today, the exact MiG-15 he flew to freedom sits quietly on display at the National Museum of the U.S. Air Force in Dayton, Ohio.

The U.S. tried to buy a jet with a million-dollar reward, but in the end, the ultimate price paid for that MiG-15 wasn't cash - it was the unstoppable human desire for freedom.

Have you ever seen this MiG-15 in Dayton, or heard of Operation Moolah?

G-man wrote:

Wow, another historical Aviation moment I never knew about! 😲In 1953, the U.S. Military was desperate.The Soviet-built MiG-15 had taken the skies in the Korean War...

Wow, another historical Aviation moment I never knew about! 😲

In 1953, the U.S. Military was desperate.

The Soviet-built MiG-15 had taken the skies in the Korean War, completely shocking UN forces. It was fast, agile, and deadly. Worse yet, communist pilots were ordered never to fly over UN territory to prevent one from being captured.

So, the U.S. Far East Command launched Operation Moolah:

$100,000 cash (around $1.2M today) + political asylum to the first pilot who delivered an intact MiG-15.

They dropped leaflets and broadcasted the offer across the region. But throughout the entire war... nobody came.

Then, two months after the fighting stopped, history took a bizarre turn.

On a morning in September 1953, a 21-year-old North Korean lieutenant named No Kum-sok boarded his MiG-15 near Pyongyang.

He took off, pointed the nose south, and throttled up.

17 minutes later, pure chaos unfolded at Kimpo Air Base near Seoul:

U.S. radar was conveniently down for routine maintenance.

No flew in totally undetected.

He landed downwind - the completely wrong direction on a active runway.

Ground crews assumed his plane was an American F-86 Sabre... until they spotted the red stars on his wings.

When he stepped out of the cockpit, he wasn't looking for a payday. He had never even heard of the $100,000 reward.

North Korean pilots were banned from listening to foreign radio, and the U.S. leaflets had been dropped in the wrong zones. He simply wanted freedom.

President Eisenhower initially opposed paying defectors, but the U.S. honored the deal anyway. In 1954, No received his $100,000 check. He placed it in a trust, using the interest to fund his college education and support his family.

Legendary test pilot Chuck Yeager flew the captured MiG in Okinawa to evaluate Soviet engineering.

The U.S. publicly offered to return the jet to its "rightful owners." Unsurprisingly, no communist nation claimed it.

No moved to the United States, changed his name to Kenneth Rowe, and reunited with his mother (who had escaped North Korea two years prior).

He earned an engineering degree from the University of Delaware, became a U.S. citizen, and spent his career as an aeronautical engineer for industry giants like Boeing and Lockheed. Later, he spent 17 years passing on his knowledge as a professor at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University before passing away in 2022 at age 90.

Today, the exact MiG-15 he flew to freedom sits quietly on display at the National Museum of the U.S. Air Force in Dayton, Ohio.

The U.S. tried to buy a jet with a million-dollar reward, but in the end, the ultimate price paid for that MiG-15 wasn't cash - it was the unstoppable human desire for freedom.

Have you ever seen this MiG-15 in Dayton, or heard of Operation Moolah?

G-man wrote:

"Excuse me while I kiss the sky....."😎Sorry, guys but I can't get enough of this Awesome plane for it's day. 😜On October 21, 1947, Northrop chief...

"Excuse me while I kiss the sky....."😎

Sorry, guys but I can't get enough of this Awesome plane for it's day. 😜

On October 21, 1947, Northrop chief test pilot Max Stanley lifted one of the strangest bombers ever built off the runway at Northrop Field in Hawthorne, California. Thirty-four minutes later, he landed at Muroc Air Force Base, completing the first flight of the Northrop YB-49 Flying Wing.

But the YB-49 wasn't actually a new airplane.

It was a conversion of the earlier YB-35, a giant flying-wing bomber designed during WWII.

The YB-35 was powered by four massive radial engines driving contra-rotating propellers. By the time it finally flew in 1946, the jet age had arrived, and Northrop's revolutionary-looking bomber was already becoming technologically outdated.

Northrp's solution was dramatic. They removed the piston engines and propellers and installed eight Allison J35 turbojets. Engineers also added four vertical stabilizers and aerodynamic fences to improve stability. The jet-powered YB-49 could reach approximately 495 mph, substantially faster than its propeller-driven predecessor. But there was a catch.

The original flying wing had been designed for the range and efficiency of piston engines. The turbojets consumed considerably more fuel, reducing the aircraft's range with a 10,000-pound bomb load from approximately 7,500 miles to just 4,000 miles. And although the YB-49 was faster, its thick wing, inherited from the piston-engine design, limited its performance compared with newer jet bombers. The aircraft's stability characteristics made accurate bombing difficult as well.

Only two YB-49s were completed. The second crashed during testing on June 5, 1948, killing all five crew members, including Capt. Glen Edwards, for whom Edwards Air Force Base would later be named. The surviving YB-49 was destroyed in a high-speed taxi accident on March 15, 1950.

Northrop's flying wing concept would not become an operational bomber until decades later, when advances in flight-control technology helped make the B-2 Spirit possible.

G-man wrote:

Can you imagine trying to taxi this thing with the nose and cockpit so far ahead of the wheel. 😳"I believe one of the few air-breathing...

Can you imagine trying to taxi this thing with the nose and cockpit so far ahead of the wheel. 😳

"I believe one of the few air-breathing jet planes to fly Mach 3 for 30+ minutes at 70,000 (flight 88, from page 242 of "Valkyrie: North American's Mach 3 Superbomber)." Mike Dunne