Armed Forces Day (1963) By Anthony L. Tambini II Commander, USN - Ret. (Webmasters note: Aircraft involved was BuNo 149969) Air Shows never fail to bring out the crowds. In the high desert of China Lake, 150 miles north of Los Angeles, people would come from every direction to see the airplanes. Armed Forces Day was a cause for celebration. Almost any reason could be a cause for celebration in this place where quarter movies and the bowling alley were the major attractions, although the bars at the clubs would most likely be first on the list of things to do for a good percentage of the population. It was a typically beautiful day in May, a perfect day for families to get together and stroll among the static displays of all of the different kinds of airplanes that we flew from the naval air facility. There would be displays, demonstrations, and a flyover of every major type of airplane in our inventory. In addition to the Projects Department, where various newly designed and developing weapons and weapon systems were in various stages of testing, other important support functions of the naval air facility were to be featured. Our "Redbirds" would be first in the order of appearance. These were F9F-6 Cougars that had been converted to "drones" or NOLO (No Live Operator) targets for the air-to-air missiles and surface-to-air missiles being developed or undergoing testing at the Naval Ordnance Test Station. Accompanied by their T-28 Trojan controller aircraft and a pair of FJ-3 Fury chase planes, this colorful group always pleased the crowds. After the drones, our collection of Projects birds was scheduled for individual flybys. Later, our skydiving club would make a series of jumps for the crowd. Sitting on the flight line was a shiny, new A4D-5, the first of a new breed of Skyhawks with a more powerful J-52 engine mounted behind modified intakes high on the fuselage. This airplane would later be renamed the A-4E in conformance with the Secretary Of Defense's decree that the Air Force and Navy adapt the same nomenclature system—the Air Force's. Fresh from the factory, it would be the last of the Projects Department airplanes to participate in our Armed Forces Day show. Less than a week old, we had put just four flights on the new bird before scheduling it for modification to carry instrumentation and experimental systems. The new J-52 engine was causing some concern with both the manufacturer and the Navy. Burner cans, the main combustion chambers in the engine, were burning through and causing engine fires. One effort to fix the problem was to modify the fuel control, which by now had already gone through twenty-nine changes. The airplane itself handled like no other Skyhawk I'd flown. Peppy and responsive, it was fun to fly. There were other concerns about this airplane, but none we considered serious. The Attack Weapons Projects Officer and I had both found that the airplane flamed out (the engine quit) every time that we put the airplane into a spin. Restarting the engine proved to be easy and fast, but still, it was a concern. Spinning was not a maneuver purposely performed in the fleet, but it was a necessary part of structural flight-testing external stores (weapons) and aircraft performance/recovery under conditions involving new configurations. This airplane had been sent to the naval air facility in support of Shrike missile system development, and it would become another in the growing stable of aircraft assigned to Attack Systems. Saturday, the day of the show, dawned bright and beautiful, as our days always did in the Mojave Desert. There was a bit of a kicker though: the wind was blowing at close to the limits set for safe flight operations. When the wind was above forty knots, the chance of a safe landing was minimal, as was the chance of a safe ejection, if that became necessary. A pilot would probably be dragged in his parachute and badly injured or killed on the rocks and rough terrain before he could release himself from his harness and get free of his parachute. The combination of sun and wind made the air above the desert floor rough and bumpy; not the kind of ride that is comfortable at five hundred knots. If the wind got any stronger, we would have to cancel flight operations. We were even more concerned about our Skydiving Club. They were scheduled to finish the aerial part of the show with individual and team jumps over the facility. The first events in our program got airborne and confirmed the weather folk's assessment: we were right on the edge. The operations officer gave the go ahead so as not to disappoint the crowd, but he cautioned that, if conditions worsened, the show would have to be suspended. The FJs, Cougars, Crusaders, and a lone Phantom all found the air to be turbulent and jolting. And all slowed down dramatically; the bumpy ride was making it uncomfortable to go at the higher speeds planned. While orbiting north of the field and waiting my turn, the air seemed to be smoothing out a bit. The Skyhawk was taking the rough air in stride, and conditions improved vastly as I began a slow descent toward the airfield. This was going to be fun after all. I saw the airspeed pass 550 knots with the airplane still accelerating. Dropping to eyeball level, I passed the end of the north-south runway and saw, for the first time, the crowd lining the ramp and adjacent taxiway. They were a blur as I flashed past. At midfield, I pulled up into a vertical climb and initiated a series of "Victory Rolls" for the crowd. On about the third rotation, the cockpit lit up like a pinball machine with the fire warning light flashing, "Tilt!" Smoke filled the cockpit, and when I looked in the rear view mirrors, I could see flames erupting through the side of the fuselage. Back around the horn came the throttle, and out went the ram-air turbine. I called the tower, dropped the landing gear and flaps, and executed a wingover maneuver to land on the same runway that I had just flown down. Speed and altitude bled off fast. I touched down on the end of the runway, and fire trucks chased behind as I rolled out and stopped the airplane. It's amazing how quickly the airplane decelerated with the engine stopped. It was frozen—not the slightest rotation—a very different sensation from the flameout approaches that we used to practice to simulate a landing with a failed engine. I brought the airplane to a halt at midfield—right in front of the spectators who thought it was all part of the show. As I unstrapped and dove over the side, there in the front row, cheering and waving wildly, were my wife and sons.