By Tommy H. Thomason

Thursday, May 31, 2012

Loading the Sting

They got to see the world but there was hard work along the way when your job was arming the airplanes:

Here, deckhands are loading a torpedo on a T4M-1 aboard Saratoga (CV-3) in May 1929.
National Archives 80G-21692

This is a 1,000-lb bomb being slung under a Marines Corps BG-1 dive bomber in February 1937.
National Archives 80G-216907

Being part mountain goat didn't hurt at times, particularly when the job was loading ammunition in the folded wings of a Grumman FM-1 Wildcat aboard Mission Bay (CVE-59) in January 1944.
 National Archives 80G-229237

But it wasn't all rough duty. Sometimes it was bombing up a Martin PM-1 seaplane at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii in October 1933...
National Archives 80G-216911

National Archives 80G-216914

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Neptunus Lex is back


Carroll LeFon, aka Neptunus Lex, died two months ago trying to land a Kfir in below-minimum weather conditions at the only airfield he could reach with the fuel remaining. (Preliminary Accident Report) Among other things he left behind was one of the wittiest and thoughtful blogs on the interweb in my opinion. It has been off line for a few weeks but thanks to the efforts of one of his daughters, it is now back: http://www.neptunuslex.com/

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Navy Joint Fighter Conference - October 1944

The Navy's Bureau of Aeronautics sponsored a Joint Fighter Conference that was held at NAS Patuxent River, Maryland on October 16-23, 1944. Representatives were invited from the Army, Navy, Marine Corps, Royal Air Force, Royal Navy, and Royal Canadian Air Force as well as from NACA and the manufacturers of engines/equipment and fighter aircraft like Grumman.

A large fleet of fighters was assembled for the pilots to evaluate:
General Motors FM-2
Grumman F6F-5, F6F-5N, F7F-1, XF8F-1
Vought F4U-1C, F4U-1D, XF4U-4
Goodyear FG-1*, FG-1A, XF2G-1
Lockheed P-38J, P-38L-5
Republic P-47D, P-47M
North American P-51D
Bell YP-59A, P-63
Northrop P-61
North American P-51D-5
Fairey Firefly Mk 4
Supermarine Seafire L2C, Seafire 3
DeHavilland Mosquito
Mitsubishi "Zeke 52"
*Bubble Canopy

More than one of some types was available on the line.

The manufacturers were eager to participate and put their best foot forward. Some of the airplanes were still in flight test or fresh off the production line. Here, an evaluation pilot poses in one such F4U. (The cut line in the Navy photo names him as Royal Navy Lt. J.P.M. Reid but as Bing Chandler points out in his comment below, facial hair rules this out; I agree that he resembles Commander Paul Ramsey.)

In addition, a Hoover Horizon in an NH (a single-engine, high wing, instrument trainer built by the Howard Aircraft Company) was available for flights. It combined the directional gyro and artificial horizon on one instrument along with a depiction of clouds above the horizon and trees below. Anti-G suits were provided for flights in airplanes with that capability. The F6F-5 was equipped with a lead-computing sight and an SNJ was assigned to be the target.

Each pilot (there were about 60 in all including Charles Lindberg) listed the airplanes that he wanted to fly and whether in daylight or at night. Daily flight schedules were prepared accordingly. What the pilot did during his flight was entirely up to him. The only obligation was to get the airplane back on time and fill out a two-page post-flight questionnaire based on what was looked at.

The only caution with respect to the operating area was to not bounce any airplanes in the Armament Test range south of the Patuxent River since "If pilots should jump an airplane there they might not be seen by the people operating turrets and the possibility exists of running into some complication along that line." 

For purposes of identification for this evaluation, each airplane was marked with a number on the mid fuselage behind or below the cockpit  beginning with an FM-2 that was 1. (The large number on some cowls in the photo above was the last three digits of the Bureau Number, often applied when an airplane wasn't assigned to an operational squadron.) The call sign was simply "Blue" and the evaluation number.

Here, Commander Paul H. Ramsey, Director of Test at NAS Patuxent River and chairman of the conference is climbing into Blue 24, a P-47 (the M according to the photo caption but a D according to the serial number). Note the gloves in hand, dress shoes, knee board strapped to thigh, and ear phones around the neck in lieu of a helmet. The life vest was recommended because there was a lot of water in the area.

Checkout, even by the standards of the day, could only be described as perfunctory. At the opening session, each contractor was given three to four minutes to describe their aircraft's "special qualities and restrictions, and general information relative to their use, speed, etc." Knee-board cards were provided that listed general data, the engine limits, and in some cases, airspeed limits and other cautions/restrictions. Each airplane was assigned a check-out pilot who stood on the wing and provided advice and counsel to the evaluation pilot until he had started the engine.

Here, McDonnell test pilot Woodward Burke is being given a checkout in the Zeke by Lt. C.C. Andrews, NATC project officer, Tactical Test, on the left with C.L. Sharp, a Chance Vought test pilot, on the left wing.

Report of Joint Fighter Conference: NAS Patuxent River, MD 16-23 Oct. 1944 was published by Shiffer Military History in 1998, with technical editing by Francis H. Dean. It is a compilation of documents and transcripts from the conference. It includes a memo to the BuAer Chief summarizing the results, the transcribed (including errors) remarks of the daily briefings and wide-ranging discussions, a summary of the opinions (qualitative and quantitative) for each type, etc. The Report is a fascinating time capsule of the status of U.S. fighter airplane capability, issues, and development as of October 1944. My favorite is the statement by a test pilot from Hamilton Standard who was answering a question about counter-rotating props: "Commander, after just flying the (YP-59A), I am out of business and I don't think there is any reason why we should talk about dual rotation. If anybody needs a good tug boat captain or something, that is about all I can talk about. I just finished the test in the squirt job and I have about two pages of comments. First I am going to hand in my resignation."

5 September 2016: Ted Dettman created a summary of the rankings (1 is best) from the data in the book:
The F4U comes out best overall based on this, but in action the P-51 was obviously good enough where it mattered, e.g. range, which isn't a figure of merit that was evaluated at this conference. The Navy considered buying a carrier-based variant of the P-51 late in the war (http://tailspintopics.blogspot.com/2011/06/seahorse.html) but by that time, jet fighters were clearly the future so they bought what was arguably a jet-powered P-51 from North American instead.

A possibly apocryphal (but definitely plausible) anecdote that might explain two Navy airplanes being in the top three was that early on in the production of the F4U and the F6F, the Navy gave Grumman an F4U to evaluate and Vought, an F6F, suggesting more of the better airplane would be bought and maybe the one they were building wasn't it. Certainly the Navy had a practice of contracting for the development of two different airplanes for the same fighter mission, thereby incentivizing its contractors to do their best.

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Not as Easy as It Looks II

There was much for a pilot to learn in the transition from propeller-driven airplanes to jets and much to like about the new propulsion technology. One was power management. Jets had a throttle lever. Prop planes with powerful altitude-compensating engines had a throttle and also controls for the propeller rpm, mixture, cowl flaps, carburetor heat, alternate air, oil cooler and intercooler shutters, and the supercharger. Not to mention magneto, oil dilution, ADI (Anti-Detonant Injection) pump, and other switches. There were a few more gauges to monitor as well, each associated with one of the controls, whereas the jet pilot dealt with any engine issues with only the throttle.



This is the throttle quadrant of a Grumman F6F-5N Hellcat.

Although reciprocating engine power management was basically accomplished with the throttle and propeller controls, fighter pilots also had to control the supercharging of the engine based on altitude. Supercharging was necessary to offset the loss of power due to thinner air as the airplane climbed. Basically, the supercharger thickened the air by pressurizing it.

The following is from the F6F Hellcat pilot's manual.
The circled numbers 1, 2, and 3 refer to War Emergency, Military, and Normal power settings at the same gross weight. (The limits of continuous operation for War Emergency and Military were five minutes and 30 minutes respectively.)

The notches in the performance lines indicate the transition between the  supercharger (also known as blower or boost) settings, which were neutral, low ratio, and high ratio. Takeoff was accomplished at the neutral setting, meaning the air going into the cylinders was not being pressurized. Depending on the power setting (roughly normal, maximum cruising, military, and war emergency), the pilot would shift into low ratio at 7,000 to 13,000 feet and into high ratio at 22,000 to 25,000 feet.

To shift up to a higher ratio, the pilot had to reduce throttle to avoid exceeding manifold pressure at the increased boost. Shifting down was unrestricted although the pilot was cautioned, except in an emergency, not to shift less than five minutes after the last one to allow the dissipation of heat from the clutches. He was also warned to "never close the throttle even momentarily (and avoid any abrupt movement of the throttle) while operating in low or high blower." In addition, the use of supercharging at lower altitudes than necessary might result in surging in the induction ducting; the pilot was cautioned not to reduce throttle in that event but to immediately shift to the next lower blower speed "unless the tactical situation makes this undesirable"; open the throttle and reduce RPM; or shift to alternate air. Although the pilots of early jets had to avoid abrupt throttle movements in certain conditions to avoid the risk of flame out or compressor stall, their workload and attention to power settings was notably less in a combat situation.

But there was still more for the pilot of a propeller-driven fighter to keep in mind. War emergency power (WEP) was predicated on the availability of anti-detonate fluid (essentially a water and methanol mix) of which there was a 12-minute supply. All the pilot had to do was advance the throttle beyond the limit stop (at one point, this was a break wire) to close a limit switch that activated the ADI system. However, before that, he was advised to check the ADI fluid quantity gauge to insure there was water available and activate the ADI pump to clear the lines of air and build up pressure in the system (the tank was behind him, a long way from the engine). Continuous operation was not to exceed five minutes. If he was operating in low or high blower when the ADI fluid ran out, the auxiliary stage pressure regulator would control the manifold pressure to military power limits. However, this protection was not provided in neutral blower. If he did not pull the throttle back immediately, the result would be "serious engine damage, or total failure, within a few seconds." He also had to remember to turn off the ADI pump because it was not designed to run dry.

War emergency power shortened engine life but at low altitudes it provided about 500 feet per minute more rate of climb and 25 mph more speed. It doesn't sound like much, but in a well-known World War II incident, Ira Kepford used it to get out of serious trouble. He was alone, just above the water so he couldn't dive away, headed away from home and help, and had three pursuing Japanese fighters in position to shoot at him if he turned either left or right. Using WEP, he was able to open the distance between his F4U Corsair and the Japanese fighters enough to be able to turn back safely.

Automatic control of cowl flaps and supercharging was introduced with the Vought F4U-5 Corsair. However, it received mixed reviews because of the uncertainty when or if the system would actuate the cowl flaps or do a blower shift. In any event, by that time propeller-driven fighters were obsolete.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Night Carrier Landings - In the Beginning

9 May 2012: I've made some changes over the past few days based on new information and analysis. Stay tuned if this subject is of interest because I'm sure that this is not the last I'll have to write about this.
4 May 2012: Major update and correction. I had naturally assumed that the color indicated by the approach light first introduced on carrier-based airplanes in the late 1930s had the same meaning as the approach lights do today: red = fast, green = slow, amber = on speed.  However, Larry Webster of the Quonset Air Museum provided me with an F3D maintenance manual excerpt that clearly illustrated the opposite.
Note that the angle lines on the vertical fin were used to establish the 14-degree setting for the amber beam.

I had thought it to be a very unlikely error but still an error until I went back and reread Gerry O'Rouke's account in his book, Night Fighters over Korea, of watching night field-carrier landings of VC-4 F3Ds in late 1952/early 1953:

As the low, moving lights came around, settling even lower toward the trees, the dim silhouette of the airplane had almost to be imagined. It was there, outline by the wing and fuselage lights, almost shrouded by the multicolored approach light that told the LSO what the plane's flight attitude was. Too slow was red, on speed was amber, too fast was green. The sound of the engines mounted, and small changes in throttle settings were detectable through ever-so slight changes of pitch in their whine.

The LSO stood with arms fully extended, then slowly lowered them slightly. The plane's engines picked up a new whine and the lights seemed to rise. The LSO's arms rose to level. The approach light, initially amber, switched to red momentarily, then to amber, as the pilot raised, then flattened the plane's nose attitude to stay on altitude.

It is unlikely that O'Rourke misremembered, since red for slow was the reverse of his subsequent and extensive experience with the red-for-fast three light AOA-driven system.

It appears that for some reason, the convention was reversed when the angle-of-attack driven lights were introduced. I'll note that red seems more appropriate for slow initially, since the concern would be for being too slow, risking a stall on approach and crashing into the sea, rather than too fast, which at worst meant a crash into the barriers forward of the landing area.

30 April: More revisions and additions
29 April: Added an illustration
27 April: And a few more revisions made today
26 April: As a result of comments and more research on my part, I somewhat revised this entry today...

Like the American Indians who supposedly preferred not to fight at night, Navy carrier pilots before and even during World War II only landed on a carrier at night if absolutely necessary. The increase in degree of difficulty was significant.

However, it was a necessary capability so the airplanes were equipped for it and the pilots trained for it, beginning with shore-based evaluations at night of deck-lighting concepts concurrent with the commissioning of the U.S. Navy's first carrier, Langley. Actual night landings were accomplished aboard Langley for the first time in April 1925 off San Diego. However, night landing qualification of carrier-based Naval Aviators was not required until January 1929 and to be current, only four were required per year. Most were reportedly accomplished by the light of a full moon or the twilight following the setting sun.

During daytime, the Landing Signal Officer (LSO) could deduce an aircraft's speed, both actual and any trend toward faster or slower, from its attitude (the relationship of the wing and horizontal tail), the sound of the engine, and whether it was climbing or descending. Stripes were eventually added on the vertical fin to add more precision to the determination of attitude. See http://thanlont.blogspot.com/2009/12/reason-for-those-lines-on-vertical-fin.html.

At night, the existing wing-tip-mounted position lights provided a sense of roll attitude along with the glare from the exhaust stacks. What was needed was a means of determining pitch attitude. Initially, this was a light or lights on the aft fuselage and/or stabilizer. Admiral Chick Hayward described the technique used at night in 1934 in his book, Bluejacket Admiral.

For starters, we were assembled by the landing signal officer's platform on the flight deck (of the Langley) to watch the LSO, Lt. Walter Holt, and a night-landing veteran, Lt. Giles E. Short, in a Boeing F4B, show us how to do that. As Short flew in, Holt, with lighted batons, was to signal him, "Too high...low...level off," whatever, until two lights on the F4B were lined up. When they were, that told the LSO the F4B was "in the groove," and he'd wave it on in. Finally, he'd signal the pilot to cut his engine when that would drop the plane down into the arresting cable.

Unfortunately, Short was apparently cut too early on this particular evening, because he crashed into the water. The plane-guard destroyer picked him up unhurt. According to Hayward "It did not stir in us any enthusiasm for night landings on the Langley." As it happened, it was subsequently determined that it was safer for Hayward's squadron to night qualify on the much bigger Saratoga.

It's not clear what lights that the LSOs initially used at night for determination of pitch attitude. (Strictly speaking, "lining up the lights" would also only work if the airplane were on a descending approach, not the level approach then used, at least in daytime.) There are two candidates evident on carrier-based airplanes at that time, on the turtle back and on both sides of the horizontal stabilizer. This BFC-2 at the National Museum of Naval Aviation at Pensacola has both:
These are generally referred to as position or formation lights, which they may in fact have also been and simply adopted as a reference point for night carrier landings. (The turtle back light was also used at night to signal instructions before inter-plane communication by radio became standard.)

Some of the early monoplanes had what had come to be known as the approach light mounted just in front of the stabilizer, a more appropriate location given the use of the stabilizer as a reference in daytime conditions.

The aft-mounted approach light was subsequently augmented and then replaced before World War II with an approach-light unit mounted in the leading edge of the left wing* that placed red, yellow, and green-colored lenses in front of the light bulb. Depending on the angle it was viewed at, the light would appear to be red, yellow, or green to the LSO. Red meant too slow (nose up, tail down); green, too fast.Yellow was neither too slow or too fast.

This is the approach light installation in the XF4U-1:


The operation of the light was automatic. (A bypass switch was provided so the light would come on even when the tailhook was up and it could therefore be used by an LSO during field carrier landing practice.) Initially, the light came on when the tailhook was lowered. Before I looked at an F6F Hellcat wiring diagram provided by Larry Webster, I had thought that the exterior lights had to be on as well but apparently not on the F6F; it appears that the exterior lights had to be on for the F3D approach light to receive power.. Later, the operation of the light was enabled by the lowering of the landing gear: otherwise, the light remained off regardless of the position of the tailhook; when the landing gear was down, the light flashed if the tailhook was up and was on steady if the tailhook had been lowered. This provided a positive indication at night that both the landing gear and hook were down.

This is the light as installed in an F9F Cougar on display at the National Museum of Naval Aviation in Pensacola. Note that a high nose angle results in the light shining through the red lens from the LSO's view point. The box looks like it might be installed upside down because the angle markings that were used for adjustment to show an amber light at the correct approach angle aren't visible and there is no hole on the bottom of the box for the screwdriver used to adjust the angle of the box (see the F3D approach light illustration above.)


Here is the F2H maintenance manual illustration showing the relationship of the lenses and single light bulb and the means of adjusting the approach light, which was Government Furnished Equipment provided to the airplane's manufacturer for installation, to the proper angle for the airplane that it was installed in:
This gadget had a limitation with respect to providing the LSO with an accurate assessment of the aircraft's speed/angle of attack, since other factors like height, distance from the ramp, changing pitch, etc. would affect what color the LSO saw. According to the Boeing XF8B-1 pilot's manual, the LSO would see yellow when the airplane was 100 feet astern, 25 feet above the deck, and 10-12 knots above stall speed.

When the Navy added an angle-of-attack gauge in the cockpit of jets beginning in the mid-1950s, the three-lens approach light was replaced with a three-light system that provided the LSO with an indication of the approaching airplane's angle of attack regardless of its position relative to the desired glide slope and trend to or from that angle. It is still in use today—day and night—and consists of three separate lights mounted on the nose gear strut, in the leading edge of the left wing, or in the nose (E-2).

For some reason, the meaning of the lights was reversed: now red indicated fast (low angle of attack) and green, slow (high angle of attack), with yellow being "on speed," or strictly speaking, at the desired angle of attack. My guess is that the convention was reversed roughly when the angled deck, descending approach, and angle of attack indication for jets were introduced, i.e. the early to mid 1950s. My thinking is that red for slow was important for the level approach at minimum speed to axial-deck carriers because of the risk of stall. Angle of attack indication and a descending approach somewhat minimized that risk; fast may therefore have then been more of a concern due to arresting system and aircraft hook loads at the higher approach speeds of jets as well as the fact that being fast on a fixed glide slope meant a higher sink rate, something to be avoided as well.

Ed Barthelmes confirmed that the AD Skyraider three-lens approach light interpretation was reversed from the F3D convention, at least later on, and the same as the current one, i.e. red indicating fast.
The switch in convention undoubtedly applied to all carrier-based airplanes at the same time, at least in the same air group. It appears to have been of importance only to maintainers and LSOs and was therefore not communicated to those who had no need to know since I can find no mention of it in Naval Aviation News or other documentation.

The E-2 approach lights are mounted horizontally in the nose.
 However, it also has a blue position light on the lower left aft fuselage that LSOs can use to determine pitch attitude at night, reminiscent of the original approach light implementation.

For a little more on LSO history, see http://thanlont.blogspot.com/2009/05/waving-them-aboard.html

*An exception was the A4D-1 installation, which was on the right side of the nose landing gear strut. Presumably mounting it "externally"—rather than behind a hole in the wing covered by a plexiglass panel—was lighter (it also appears to be miniaturized) and it couldn't be on the left side of the strut because of the location of the shrink strut that compressed the nose gear as it was being retracted.(On later models, the three-light presentation was moved to the leading edge of the left wing.)
Ron Lewis reports that the red lens was on top from the first production A4D-1s, further evidence that the change was as early as 1954.

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Chance Vought F7U-1 Cutlass

I'm slowly but surely finishing what will probably be my last monograph, as Scooter! was my last real book, as my mother would say. This is the draft cover to be used as a placeholder on my home page, tommythomason.com:



The first paragraph in the manuscript is:

But for a series of problems and unfortunate events, it is conceivable that the iconic U.S. Air Force F-86 Sabre would have had to share the glory of its kill-ratio supremacy over the Russian MiG-15 in the skies above Korea with another swept-wing jet fighter named after a bladed weapon, the Chance Vought F7U Cutlass. Instead, the Navy’s straight–wing jet fighters were relegated to a supporting role in the Korean War. Like the Air Force’s straight-wing F-80s and F-84s, the Navy’s jets were used primarily for bombing and close-air support missions, augmenting the propeller-driven fighters that they had replaced.




That picture is bogus, of course, but thanks to the efforts of people like Bill Spidle—who has been separating the wheat from the chaff at the Vought archives—there are a few that have not been previously published and lots of new information. For example, here is a draft illustration of a Vought design study that predates the proposal to the Navy.


At the moment, I'm still missing pictures of Bureau Numbers 124416 and 124424 but unless someone has them and sends them to me, I will have to publish without.

More later...

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Well, That Sucks

One of the blogs that I read every day,  one of the few that I provide a link to, and the one I invariably enjoy the most is http://www.neptunuslex.com/ written by retired Navy Captain, Carroll LeFon, familiarly known as Lex. He had been among other things, the executive officer of TOPGUN, a fighter pilot's fighter pilot who could also write entertainingly and informatively. In the process of creating Strike from the Sea, I had emailed him with a question about dumb-bomb delivery since he had written an illustrated anecdote about the process. He responded promptly and was very helpful in correcting and improving my draft.

After retiring from the Navy, Lex had gotten a desk job but also flew light aircraft on weekends at one of those air-combat flight experience companies. However, it was clear that he missed flying jets. He recently left his cubicle and returned to the cockpit, going to work for ATAC, a company providing adversary fighter services to the U.S. military, among other things. See http://www.atacusa.com/.

He flew the Kfir, an Israeli modification of the Dassault Mirage powered by a J79. The Navy had leased several of these as F-21s to be used to provide dissimilar aircraft air-to-air combat training. These were subsequently turned back to Israel.

ATAC was operating the very similar Kfir C2s that had been retired by the Israeli Air Force. In the past few months in his blog, Lex took us through his experience with checking out in the idiosyncratic little beast and flying it as an adversary: self-effacing, lighthearted, and witty as usual. His joy in being back in the air in a single-seat jet fighter providing realistic training for the crews of Navy ships and tactical airplanes was readily apparent. But reading between the lines, I couldn't help but wonder if this would end badly.

Yesterday, 6 March, it did. He "stepped into the clearing at the end of the path", as he was wont to say about other departed friends and acquaintances, while landing at NAS Fallon, Nevada. He will be missed.