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Flight of four returning to Hahn from an X-C to England. Late at
night, rotten weather, with thunderstorms all over. Al Wolfe
lead, Bob Aycock number 2, Jimmy Jester, Element Lead and me,
Dick Haynie, number 4.
The ADF needle was just a blur around the gauge as it jumped
from one thunderstorm to another. The first hint that the flight
just might be a little disoriented came when Al swallowed his
pride, switched the flight to Barber control and asked for a
radar position. The response of, "Turn to heading 270
immediately." had an unsettling ring to it. And the F-86D
which they directed in on us for an ID run a little later didn't
help a lot either.
Finally got back to Hahn beacon and penetrated in two ship
elements. Al and Bob had to go missed approach when they didn't
break out, and the same fate awaited Jimmy and me. And that's
where things really got bad.
When Jimmy started the missed approach, I lost him. Managed
to get on the gauges and recover from the ensuing unusual
attitude, and then the whole nose of the airplane lit up with
St. Elmo's fire. Scared the dog water out of me! Broke out into
clear weather, and finally got joined up with Jimmy.
Proceeded to Wiesbaden, where Al and Bob had already landed.
I came across the fence at about 220 and smashed it on the
runway about four or five times before I could keep it there.
Miraculously, I got it stopped without taking the barrier.
Taxied in and shut down.
I was drenched with sweat and it felt like my arms and legs
were made out of rubber. I knew I'd never be able to get out of
the cockpit with out help. The first sound I heard when I opened
the canopy was Aycock's maniacal laughter, "Nice landing
Dickie, you almost busted your ass."
Having just survived the most harrowing experience of my
life, I wanted my mother, not Aycock's derision. I alluded to
his canine lineage, and told him that the only thing standing
between him and a trip to meet his maker was the
non-availability of a suitable instrument, such as a .45, with
which to dispatch him. (My actual words were, "You SOB, if
I had a .45, I'd shoot you.")
Next Morning, Al was unable to join us for breakfast, as he
had an early appointment with the CG/12thAF to go over the
details of the flight of four American fighters into East
Germany the night before. He never gave us a briefing on the
meeting, but we noticed a little grimace of pain each time he
sat down for a couple of months, and he didn't smile much for a
long time. |
