Spence
Air Base, Moultrie, Georgia (1959) - USAF pilot training class 60
Foxtrot
Night Round-Robin
by Neil Cosentino
My aviation cadet
call sign was Tiger 23. The mission was
our flight’s first solo night cross-country in a T-28.
The weather was prefect. A recent front followed by high
pressure cleared the haze and lowered the temperature leaving behind a
beautiful, clear, star-filled night – perfect for night cross-county
flying.
We all went out
to our aircraft while it was still daylight, pre-flighted,
pre-positioning our seat parachutes, head sets, flashlight, everything
set up to start engines. And in my case, Tiger 00, Tony-the Tiger would
be my back seat passenger for some night time. Tony was our Tiger
Flight’s little stuffed mascot. I strapped him in as tight as I could
get the shoulder harness and seatbelt.
Every cadet waited in
the cockpit or nearby waiting for the sun to set and the start engines
light signal from the control tower. It is a fond memory, one of my
best as a Spence cadet. I sat at the left wing root, just below the
open cockpit, my back up against the cool aluminum fuselage with my
legs stretched out toward the wing tip, warmed by the heat coming from
the fuel in the wing tank below.
A light, cool breeze
crossed the flight line; I remember the scents of the earth, the local
pine trees, mixed with the aroma of wood fires from the nearby homes.
I thought then – and
now – that life could not be better; that flying was what my life and
what my future was all about. The warm
fuel, the chilled fragrances of the earth, the Southland, the
surrounding pine forests and the aroma of the smoke – the excitement of
the night flight are all to this day wonderful memories of my flying at
Spence.
We waited, and
finally after the sunset, as dusk faded, there came the green light –
the signal from the control tower for us to start engines and – in
timed sequence – to taxi and takeoff. It was a good feeling to sit
there watching the instructor pilot’s aircraft taxi by, followed by
each aircraft in Tiger flight and then it was my turn to taxi out in
order to be part of this group, a part of a big mission.
I somehow knew that it
was a glimpse of what combat flying was like in the past. I could not
fast forward knowing that 14 years later, that I would be waiting my
turn at night to start engines sitting in the cockpit of my F-4E
Phantom for my first of the night Linebacker II
missions. Those were the December 1972 night missions to Hanoi that
ended that war.
For a young aviation
cadet at Spence who was getting the best flying training anywhere, and
getting paid to do it, life just could not get any better.
A little tension was building, As it got
dark, thoughts came to me about what it must have been like on those
World War II night combat missions. I told myself that it was not much
different than now.
I dropped those
thoughts and went over in my mind my plan to squeeze at least twenty
minutes from the mission that night. I wanted that time for myself, for
a little night aerobatics. I did not tell my roommate or anyone else my
plan, knowing that if the word got out somehow there would be big
serious trouble.
Those thoughts ended
with the green light from the tower. It woke up the flight line as each
aircraft started engines. The taxi, takeoff, climb and level off were
normal. The flight plan was a night solo navigation mission using a
left hand box route with four almost equal legs. They had
pre-positioned our instructor pilots orbiting at each turn point to
check us as we turned the corners, to keep an eye on the weather, and
to stay in radio contact with the cadet pilots in case of an emergency.
We were required to
call in at each of the turn points, which I did at exactly the planned
time. But I flew a much smaller box inside the box they were flying and
at a lower altitude where I could look up and see the lights of the
other aircraft in the stream. This smaller box would give me the time I
needed for my first night aerobatics.
Only one instructor
pilot called me at a turn point – I told him the truth that I had him
in sight – that was true: I did have him in sight when I turned inside
that second turn point. It worked as planned, with me arriving back at
Spense twenty minutes early. I stayed at
altitude and flew a short distance to the southeast away from the
stream of aircraft and the airways.
My big adventure was
about to begin but first came a few confidence maneuvers, a few steep
turns. That went well, next a few ailerons rolls. With my confidence
increasing, and just enough time for one loop and one barrel roll. I
should have looped first because the barrel roll turned out hairy – a
maneuver I can never forget . . . It was,
as I have described, a clear moonless star-filled night. I started
down, building up air speed for the maneuver, then slowly rolled right
and pulling up toward a point of light 45 degrees on what I thought was
the horizon. I passed through that point wings level climbing and kept
rolling until I what I thought was a ninety degree bank turn and
started to look for a light to roll to, as I slowly rolled inverted and
then it happened: I lost all orientation since the barn yards lights of
the isolated farms below all became part of the stars, and the stars
became barn yard lights.
It was my first real
scare in an aircraft. A good scare, a bit of a shock realizing that I
was in trouble. I tried for a moment to go on instruments to recover.
That seemed hopeless, for all the instruments were spinning or pegged,
so I slowly pulled back of the throttle, release the backpressure and
look around for a cluster of lights, or a small town, or the lights of
Moultrie, that would tell me up from down. No
luck.
So I just pushed the
stick forward, unloaded and waited until the aircraft started down then
rolled to what I thoughts was wings level based on a light cluster and
waited to feel what would happen next.
Finally I spotted the
town of Moultrie and the nearby Spence Air Base. My breathing slowly
returned to normal. It was scary but it was over, now to focus on how I
would safely re-enter the returning stream of aircraft.
The scattered lights of
the night countryside blended in with the stars and my view of the
world was all blended into one. For a few
scary moments I could not distinguish up from down.
Lessons learned: If you
are going to do night aerobatics on a moonless night, use a big city or
any light cluster or a good reference as the starting point. I still enjoy night aerobatics: no glare from
the sun, the air is cool and calm, but I pick nights with a full moon
and like to takeoff when the moon is about thirty degrees above the
horizon. I also ask for a block altitude and flight following.
I filled out Tony’s
logbook after landing but left out the introduction to night aerobatics
– and our recovery from unusual attitudes!
Our Pilot Training Class (60 Foxtrot) 50th anniversary reunion will take place this month [April 2010], in Dayton, Ohio. Should anyone reading this story know the whereabouts of our little mascot, call sign “Tiger 00,” and his log book, please contact me in Tampa, Florida Neil.Cosentino@verizon.net 813-251-4669
