Danger Zone (Part 5)
Danger Zone video feat. Kenny Loggins (1986): http://bit.ly/19PHR0j
(Note: all characters appearing in this work are
fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely
coincidental. The author’s fictional stories expressed in this blog do not
reflect in any way those of the institutions to which he is affiliated, the
Department of Defense, or the United States Armed Forces. Best efforts were
made to portray the situations accurately).
Planes lined up under the flight deck, stacked vertically
like a Manhattan parking garage. Humid Gulf air creeped into every tight
crevice of the USS John C. Stennis (CVN-74), making surfaces warm and moist. Languid
seas accompanied the mighty warship as it slowly cut through the dark waters of
the Strait of Hormuz.
“We’re all going up tonight,” drawled the tall Texan Lt.
Harrington, walking among the calibrated activity which dominated the
flight deck. “This is exciting… I’m jacked-up!” He yelled in a
distinctive twang. Pumped-up and walking with a swagger, he was a cross between
Lt. Starbuck of Battlestar Galactica, and Tim Riggins of Friday Night Lights; totally at ease with himself, poised, not fighting against tonight's tension.
Harrington seemed to float along with the electrified force field of bravado sizzling
through the chamber tonight; the preparation and tension introduced
the pilots to the arena, known as the “Danger Zone.”
Present were mammoth miracles of aviation called FA18-Super Hornets, sold to the Navy by Boeing, and housed by the aircraft carrier Stennis; ready at any time directed by the DOD or the POTUS, to hurl out into the sky as a pointed sword of American diplomatic, or military strength. “Code Yellow” represented the red hot power of these fully armed flying machines, poised to press hard into the dry Iranian desert like a searing branding iron. The yellow “Ops” folder possibly included full enemy engagement, and afterward the elimination of the nuclear production facilities of a terrorist state. It was gameday.
Present were mammoth miracles of aviation called FA18-Super Hornets, sold to the Navy by Boeing, and housed by the aircraft carrier Stennis; ready at any time directed by the DOD or the POTUS, to hurl out into the sky as a pointed sword of American diplomatic, or military strength. “Code Yellow” represented the red hot power of these fully armed flying machines, poised to press hard into the dry Iranian desert like a searing branding iron. The yellow “Ops” folder possibly included full enemy engagement, and afterward the elimination of the nuclear production facilities of a terrorist state. It was gameday.
Steamy subway smells mixed with grease and the pungent
odor of jet fuel as the orderlies filled the Hornets with 14,000 Lbs. of fuel,
as well as five, 480-gallon exterior tanks. There was no smoking allowed
anywhere near the flight deck; and the managers, clad in blue-coveralls, kept
an eye on the fueling like a jittery lioness watching her cubs. “Stack ‘em and
pack ‘em, Raaaallllph!” Lt. Harrington always elongatated the elevator
operator’s name, like he did with his drinking buddies at Annapolis; stretching
the name and wretching like a drunken sailor. He tried to keep things loose and
light.
However, there were sensitive pilots, usually the newer ones to
carrier flight, sitting in the flight room below, more dazed than focused; unable to
loosen up while waiting to be called to the deck to climb into their Hornets.
“I feel a little queasy Lieutenant,” said one of his junior officers, “but it’s
amazing that you gave us the Code Yellow tonight; I’m ready for action!” Lt.
Harrington saw those in line who looked conspicuously anxious, and he talked to
each pilot who needed a small measure of re-assurance.
“Jack, you’re going to do fine; just stay with your wingman and if there’s trouble, listen to me on the radio,” Lt. Harrington knew that some of the squadron only recently passed the initial CQ (carrier qualification); but like his hero in coaching, John Wooden, he encouraged his team to concentrate on the important details, because it was the details that flew the airplane. He lived Wooden's Pyramid of Success: respecting the pressure of aerial combat but not fearing the enemy, being confident--not cocky, possessing an ease which came from knowing that his Stennis flyboys were prepared, and they would do their duty.
More from Lt. Harrington: Part IV: http://rostranovum.blogspot.com/2012/06/thunderstruck-carrier-fiction-part-iv.html
To be CQ the pilot made 12 day landings and 8 night landings, with a minimum of 6 arrested stops done according to standard procedure by catching the right wire. War is meant for young soldiers, and air battles are best maneuvered by young pilots, with amazing physical requirements as well as the mental tests provided by these complex airplanes. The modern Navy's details, demands, and decisions flowed toward the pilot at an increasing rate as the engagement reaches farther into the flight plan.
“Jack, you’re going to do fine; just stay with your wingman and if there’s trouble, listen to me on the radio,” Lt. Harrington knew that some of the squadron only recently passed the initial CQ (carrier qualification); but like his hero in coaching, John Wooden, he encouraged his team to concentrate on the important details, because it was the details that flew the airplane. He lived Wooden's Pyramid of Success: respecting the pressure of aerial combat but not fearing the enemy, being confident--not cocky, possessing an ease which came from knowing that his Stennis flyboys were prepared, and they would do their duty.
More from Lt. Harrington: Part IV: http://rostranovum.blogspot.com/2012/06/thunderstruck-carrier-fiction-part-iv.html
To be CQ the pilot made 12 day landings and 8 night landings, with a minimum of 6 arrested stops done according to standard procedure by catching the right wire. War is meant for young soldiers, and air battles are best maneuvered by young pilots, with amazing physical requirements as well as the mental tests provided by these complex airplanes. The modern Navy's details, demands, and decisions flowed toward the pilot at an increasing rate as the engagement reaches farther into the flight plan.
Part III Flight Plan: http://rostranovum.blogspot.com/2012/05/standing-on-top-of-world-code-yellow.html
Lt. Harrington
earlier informed his squadron that they would be circling down from a high orbit around the
Persian Gulf; locking in on two sites probably containing the full-fledged
nuclear weapons program of The Islamic Republic of Iran, previously said to be dismantled by the Iranian government. If the fighters from
the Stennis happen to encounter the Iranian Air Force (IRIAF), concurrent
instructions were to meet any force with equal firepower. Lt.
Harrington's small yellow folder, paraded to his team earlier in the evening, carried with it the
assembled might of one of the most powerful war-making machines ever invented; used specifically to dismantle a persistent threat to middle-eastern peace and the secure valuable shipping channels in the Strait of Hormuz.
Choreographed like ballet, launch operations this
evening featured a fighter/bomber with a combat range of 390 nautical miles,
inserted into a war theater in minutes, flying vertically at 228 meters per
second. One by one, the handlers launched planes built to climb 45,000 feet in
one minute, quickly creating pre-planned groups high above the danger zone.
Upward acceleration is felt as weight, otherwise known as g-force. The Hornet
can withstand a mind-boggling load factor of 7g’s. Proper g-forces during
ascent or the plane’s frequent power turns affect the pilot’s vision and
breathing as gravity pushes down one times his weight per “g.” Pilots survive time in the seat
during peak g-force only through vigorous training and preventative
practices which augment the special flight suit. The upward force applied as
the catapult violently throws the plane off of the deck, combined with the
powerful climb rate, tend to take the blood away from the pilot’s head;
otherwise known as “the deep sleep,” in reference to where a pilot ends up at
the bottom of the ocean, after blacking out.
After the initial shock of takeoff, they formed into a
coordinated approach to the target; each Hornet carrying six-barreled rotary
cannons that fired 20mm bullets, as well as a variety of missiles, bombs,
rockets, and other guided weapons. The plane is even equipped with an elaborate
air-launched decoy system for defensive tactics during flight. But the most
important factors following a squadron into flight were weather and daylight.
As communications began, Lt. Harrington asked his team to please re-group at
35,000 feet and await further guidance, the plan unfolding in a precious few
seconds above the Persian Gulf.
“Let me have the Growlers get out in front of us,” lieutenant chirped on the comm system, “Shadowhawk leader, this is Rocket-One, check-in with me
when you get some FTI imagery we can use.” These sibling aircraft to the
Hornet, called EA18-G (for Growler) stretched to the front of the engagement
line, providing essential photo reconnaissance for early stages of the
mission. Northrup-Grumman’s advanced electronic warfare equipment: FTI-2,
known for fast tactical imagery, photographed in infrared. FTI was initially used
in Operation Iraqi Freedom (2003). The squadron received conventional,
ship-sourced radar reports about enemy aircraft in the vicinity, but the
Growlers gave them an airborne advantage by opening their eyes, even in the
dark.
Few modern naval aviators had ever ridden out as a posse,
so completely equipped and loaded for a fight. In a decade of leadership, Lt.
Harrington had only put on the full armor of the mighty U.S. Navy a few times,
and never in a non-official capacity as it was tonight; yet, he was ready in
every sense of the word. Fueled, fast, and ferocious; the USS Stennis launched
the finest modern fighters in the world. Hornets don’t fly themselves, but they
gave the Americans a hardware advantage from the start; Lt. Harrington wished his
younger pilots could just relax and have fun—they were in for the ride of their
lives. Besides, it only got scary when you had to come down; and land on a
pitching deck.
Fiction ripped from the headlines... to be continued in Part XI…
©Mark H. Pillsbury
