Gang--
This is an informal email from one of our F-16 pilots to some of his bros. He was flying over Iraq during that huge sandstorm that hit a few days into the war. I cannot supply a source, but, as a former military pilot, it sounds far too realistic to be a hoax.
(By the way, I reformatted it, deleting all of the forwarding arrows as well as X'ing out the landing base)
"Fellow aviators,
Here's a perceptual recap of my recent encounter with the mother of all sand storms -- written so you could get a sense of being in the cockpit --maybe a couple good less! ons learned here. I'm hoping Lockheed can do up a good graphical playback of what happened once they get the CSFDR data.
Westbound in the AOR enroute to a Killbox, I could no longer avoid IMC at FL350 and put my wingman, Demon, in 3-5nm trail. The time was approximately 1500z (prior to sunset). I checked for T-storm cell build-ups in snow plow and saw no returns. I then noticed going into darker grey clouds. Then the clouds turned yellow and then into orange with multiple lightning flashes. Several radio calls were made by 2 flights in the vicinity about encountering a big storm and for everyone to turn South and get out of there. I then noticed my airspeed instantly went from .85 Mach to zero and I was unable to turn South to egress. I selected full AB. The air was very turbulent and the jet began to sink from FL 350. I attempted to get the nose pointed down to regain airspeed in a violent turbulent down draft still in full AB. When the jet would not respond to control inputs or accelerate I calmly told AWACS & the other 2 flights I was out of control. The nose began to bounce up then down, I released the stick and the jet then did at least a 360 or two. I tried tapping a little opposite rudder, the spin stopped and I thought let's let Hal have a chance at this and I went to idle. The jet then felt like it was picked up and flipped upside down. I maintained pretty **CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED** good orientation throughout using the HUD, but it was still very bizarre.
The air seemed more out of control than the jet. I thought OK, I'm
inverted, let's try to get the nose down and keep it there. The jet then flipped/rolled upright, but remained somewhat nose low and I again attempted to ease the nose low and keep it there as I was descending into an ever blackening void. T! here was no "warning warning" or any abnormal warning/caution lights. I felt a slight airflow change and looked at the engine instruments to make sure the motor didn't quit and confirmed I was in idle. The jet remained mostly nose low and bounced around for 6-9 secs or so, but airspeed still read zero as I was passing FL 210 and I thought, OK I still have time to work this. I then was able to ease the nose down to 40 or 50 degrees of dive while in approximately 45 degrees of right bank. Next I'm pretty sure I hit a very strong updraft of sand -- I experienced a HUGE forward deceleration while nose down and zero knots on the jet --
almost felt like going under water and was almost beyond my ability to process as the flags, water bottles, piddle packs all flew forward in the cockpit -- then I put the boards out for 5 secs or so thinking if I'm slowing down, why not slow down even more and t! hen looked to make sure the motor still wasn't quiting and still saw no airspeed increase. Everything was now a bizare hellish crimson red-black. In the next 5 secs or so I finally read something other than zero airspeed and noted approx. 260 kts after the deceleration.
I then began to assess winning vs losing cues w/altitude vs. dive angle at 70 degrees nose low and 80-90 degrees of bank-- I assessed neutral at best and thought about the yellow handle option as I plugged in the burner and began a rolling dive recovery in a now pitch black void (I never thought to jettison the tanks/bombs and switching to Cat I -- in hind sight, I should have). I was thinking how a parachute ride/landing would not be survivable in that severe of a storm, but would pull the handle anyway if I saw losing cues. I continued to assess about neutral as I continued the pull and knew it would be close.&! gt; It was tough not knowing I would make it til the last fraction of a second
in pitch black IMC when the FPM hit the horizon at 750' MSL in full AB and I did not come in contact with terra firma. The air felt significantly warmer and the canopy fogged up as I began my climb in full AB noting I had 5900 lbs (no problem to make Jabber). The worst part was when I realized I was re-entering the orange hell again in the climbout. I made another calm radio call that I was recovered & climbing out, thinking I'm never going to get out of this storm or I'm gonna get shot down trying.
Eventually the clouds turned normal grey again and I found my wingman, 40 nm out in front of me at FL 390 heading south and asked his fuel state. After finding the tanker (and the new tanker frequency!) I was directed to proceed to another Killbox to support ground forces in trouble. The area was now sur! rounded by T-storms closing in from all directions except south. I again climbed to FL 360, but could not get over the active, almost continuous T-storms. Eventually I returned to get more gas after
which I was directed to be DCA mission commander. I proceeded north once again, with similar results as the area became even more congested with T-storms andmaintained an orbit just north of the border. I got gas one more time and tried to proceed south, then west to get behind the storms but there was a continous line all the way to XXXX. At FL 370 we again re-entered IMC briefly with lightning everywhere and I turned back toward
the tanker track, now the only VMC airspace anywhere. With 45 minutes until crew rest stop for my wingman I was finally cleared to RTB. On RTB I had to climb above the corridor and deviate well east and was directed to squawk emergency. Got vectored around th! understorms within 50 nm of XXXX and landed in a mild dust storm with lightning w/in 5nm of the field.
Observations: I had gone snow plow and zero EL approx 15-20nm prior to entering the 'twilight zone' to check for cell build ups, but saw no returns on the scope. I never felt the need to hit the MPO because the air seemed more out of control than I was & I eventually was able to ease the jet into a steep nose low attitude thinking airflow would 'have to' start flowing over the wings again -- I never could see the AoA tape (too
dark and my lights had not yet been turned up) and that was a big missing piece of the puzzle as I tried to analyze the situation/recovery. That updraft of sand changed everything and probably made the difference between pulling the handle and dying in the parachute ride/landing vs recovering with prescious few hundreds of feet to spare. Again, I should have jettisoned once I had an airspeed indication. I also probably could've done a better unloaded roll to upright vs a loaded rolling pull.
I was the first one to notice any damage to the weapons and ECM pod after shut-down (should have been caught by de-arm crew). The jet was sandblasted pretty good and the FZU-39 radomes were crushed. The ECM pod front radome coating was peeled away (same on the wingman's jet). I've been reliving this most of the day and thinking about what I would have done differently if I could.
Remember, Mother nature can be one bad mother when you
least expect it!"
Regardless of our individual stances on the war, we should be proud of our folks over there.
This is an informal email from one of our F-16 pilots to some of his bros. He was flying over Iraq during that huge sandstorm that hit a few days into the war. I cannot supply a source, but, as a former military pilot, it sounds far too realistic to be a hoax.
(By the way, I reformatted it, deleting all of the forwarding arrows as well as X'ing out the landing base)
"Fellow aviators,
Here's a perceptual recap of my recent encounter with the mother of all sand storms -- written so you could get a sense of being in the cockpit --maybe a couple good less! ons learned here. I'm hoping Lockheed can do up a good graphical playback of what happened once they get the CSFDR data.
Westbound in the AOR enroute to a Killbox, I could no longer avoid IMC at FL350 and put my wingman, Demon, in 3-5nm trail. The time was approximately 1500z (prior to sunset). I checked for T-storm cell build-ups in snow plow and saw no returns. I then noticed going into darker grey clouds. Then the clouds turned yellow and then into orange with multiple lightning flashes. Several radio calls were made by 2 flights in the vicinity about encountering a big storm and for everyone to turn South and get out of there. I then noticed my airspeed instantly went from .85 Mach to zero and I was unable to turn South to egress. I selected full AB. The air was very turbulent and the jet began to sink from FL 350. I attempted to get the nose pointed down to regain airspeed in a violent turbulent down draft still in full AB. When the jet would not respond to control inputs or accelerate I calmly told AWACS & the other 2 flights I was out of control. The nose began to bounce up then down, I released the stick and the jet then did at least a 360 or two. I tried tapping a little opposite rudder, the spin stopped and I thought let's let Hal have a chance at this and I went to idle. The jet then felt like it was picked up and flipped upside down. I maintained pretty **CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED** good orientation throughout using the HUD, but it was still very bizarre.
The air seemed more out of control than the jet. I thought OK, I'm
inverted, let's try to get the nose down and keep it there. The jet then flipped/rolled upright, but remained somewhat nose low and I again attempted to ease the nose low and keep it there as I was descending into an ever blackening void. T! here was no "warning warning" or any abnormal warning/caution lights. I felt a slight airflow change and looked at the engine instruments to make sure the motor didn't quit and confirmed I was in idle. The jet remained mostly nose low and bounced around for 6-9 secs or so, but airspeed still read zero as I was passing FL 210 and I thought, OK I still have time to work this. I then was able to ease the nose down to 40 or 50 degrees of dive while in approximately 45 degrees of right bank. Next I'm pretty sure I hit a very strong updraft of sand -- I experienced a HUGE forward deceleration while nose down and zero knots on the jet --
almost felt like going under water and was almost beyond my ability to process as the flags, water bottles, piddle packs all flew forward in the cockpit -- then I put the boards out for 5 secs or so thinking if I'm slowing down, why not slow down even more and t! hen looked to make sure the motor still wasn't quiting and still saw no airspeed increase. Everything was now a bizare hellish crimson red-black. In the next 5 secs or so I finally read something other than zero airspeed and noted approx. 260 kts after the deceleration.
I then began to assess winning vs losing cues w/altitude vs. dive angle at 70 degrees nose low and 80-90 degrees of bank-- I assessed neutral at best and thought about the yellow handle option as I plugged in the burner and began a rolling dive recovery in a now pitch black void (I never thought to jettison the tanks/bombs and switching to Cat I -- in hind sight, I should have). I was thinking how a parachute ride/landing would not be survivable in that severe of a storm, but would pull the handle anyway if I saw losing cues. I continued to assess about neutral as I continued the pull and knew it would be close.&! gt; It was tough not knowing I would make it til the last fraction of a second
in pitch black IMC when the FPM hit the horizon at 750' MSL in full AB and I did not come in contact with terra firma. The air felt significantly warmer and the canopy fogged up as I began my climb in full AB noting I had 5900 lbs (no problem to make Jabber). The worst part was when I realized I was re-entering the orange hell again in the climbout. I made another calm radio call that I was recovered & climbing out, thinking I'm never going to get out of this storm or I'm gonna get shot down trying.
Eventually the clouds turned normal grey again and I found my wingman, 40 nm out in front of me at FL 390 heading south and asked his fuel state. After finding the tanker (and the new tanker frequency!) I was directed to proceed to another Killbox to support ground forces in trouble. The area was now sur! rounded by T-storms closing in from all directions except south. I again climbed to FL 360, but could not get over the active, almost continuous T-storms. Eventually I returned to get more gas after
which I was directed to be DCA mission commander. I proceeded north once again, with similar results as the area became even more congested with T-storms andmaintained an orbit just north of the border. I got gas one more time and tried to proceed south, then west to get behind the storms but there was a continous line all the way to XXXX. At FL 370 we again re-entered IMC briefly with lightning everywhere and I turned back toward
the tanker track, now the only VMC airspace anywhere. With 45 minutes until crew rest stop for my wingman I was finally cleared to RTB. On RTB I had to climb above the corridor and deviate well east and was directed to squawk emergency. Got vectored around th! understorms within 50 nm of XXXX and landed in a mild dust storm with lightning w/in 5nm of the field.
Observations: I had gone snow plow and zero EL approx 15-20nm prior to entering the 'twilight zone' to check for cell build ups, but saw no returns on the scope. I never felt the need to hit the MPO because the air seemed more out of control than I was & I eventually was able to ease the jet into a steep nose low attitude thinking airflow would 'have to' start flowing over the wings again -- I never could see the AoA tape (too
dark and my lights had not yet been turned up) and that was a big missing piece of the puzzle as I tried to analyze the situation/recovery. That updraft of sand changed everything and probably made the difference between pulling the handle and dying in the parachute ride/landing vs recovering with prescious few hundreds of feet to spare. Again, I should have jettisoned once I had an airspeed indication. I also probably could've done a better unloaded roll to upright vs a loaded rolling pull.
I was the first one to notice any damage to the weapons and ECM pod after shut-down (should have been caught by de-arm crew). The jet was sandblasted pretty good and the FZU-39 radomes were crushed. The ECM pod front radome coating was peeled away (same on the wingman's jet). I've been reliving this most of the day and thinking about what I would have done differently if I could.
Remember, Mother nature can be one bad mother when you
least expect it!"
Regardless of our individual stances on the war, we should be proud of our folks over there.
