Announcement

Collapse
No announcement yet.

VERTIGO ! – Nightmare of a SVNAF´s Skyraider pilot in the war time

Collapse
X
 
  • Filter
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts

  • VERTIGO ! – Nightmare of a SVNAF´s Skyraider pilot in the war time

    The following story is a true story about a real nightmare of a young A 1H-Skyraider fighter pilot of the South Vietnamese Air Force (SVNAF) in the end of the Vietnam War.

    Lietenant Nguyen Van Chuyen was a pilot of the South Vietnamese Air Force 518th Fighter Squadron flying the Douglas A-1H Skyraider under the command of the elite 83rd SVNAF-Special Operations Group.

    Here is his memorable mission :


    Lt. Chuyen of the SVNAF´s 518th Fighter Squadron

    My most memorable mission was a night mission sometime in 1974. I was supposed to help relieving pressure from communist forces on a VN Rangers outpost at Tong Le Chan, near An Loc, North Northwest of Saigon, by the Cambodian border. It was a very dark night, around 11PM, when the call was in from the Tactical Operation Wing for the mission

    There were four Skyraiders with 10 MK-81 (250 pound) bombs each, scrambling onto the runway at Bien Hoa AFB, a two-plane flight from Squadron 514 next door, and another two-plane flight from our Squadron, the 518. Captain Nghia Van Nguyen (again, no relation to me) was my leader. As we were en route to the target, we were told by the Tactical Operation Wing to hold position because the VNAF's C-47 plane that drops flares to illuminate the target was having mechanical difficulties on the ground of Tan Son Nhut AFB. Capt. Nghia made an agreement with the other Skyraider flight that we would be holding at five thousand feet, and they would be holding at a higher altitude in the same general area, on top of Phuoc Vinh District, waiting for the C-47 cargo plane to come up. This is to prevent a collision that might happen in the dark.

    We were flying in circle for a long time because the C-47 seemed to have a more serious problem than first thought. It was cold in the cockpit and I was hungry. I did not have a good dinner in the evening. I was broke from playing cards and could only afford an inexpensive piece of French bread sandwich with some cold meat and a plastic bag of ice tea. It was quiet, besides the boring even sound of the engine from the front of the plane. I could not remember how many rounds did we make in the dark before I felt asleep and lost direction, even with my eyes wide open.


    Lt. Chuyen before a mission with 6 Napalms.

    The aviation term for the sickness was "vertigo". The flesh hairs inside my ears got messed up and I lost the sense of direction. I did not know exactly what happened, but based on the evidence and guessing afterward from the incident, I think this is what happened.

    I was on a tactical (a loose and far) formation behind Capt. Nghia's plane when I saw his plane started to dive. I called on the radio and asked what was he doing, he said he was doing nothing, just level flying, and waiting for the order to go to the target. I adjusted my position in relation to Capt. Nghia's plane and again, I saw his plane went diving down. I yelled on the radio and asked what he was doing again. He once again said he was doing nothing, just level flying. Seconds later, in the darkness of the night, I vaguely remember seeing the position lights and the rotating beacon light on Capt. Nghia's plane dived deeply and broke away from me very fast. As I yelled for Capt. Nghia to take good control of his plane, he yelled back, saying that I, not him, might be falling into the vertigo status. I apparently pulled on the control stick harder and harder out of fear and ascended high away from my leader's plane.


    Three A-1H Skyraiders of the VNAF´s 518th Fighter Squadon in flight.
    A-1Es of the 518th FS carried codes like KWA and KWC, with the smaller K and larger W being the squadron identifier and the smaller A and C being the aircraft identifiers.

    I completely lost sight of Capt. Nghia's plane. I called and asked for his position, he said he is still level flying at the location where he was with me a couple seconds ago. I was terrified at the feeling of being in a vertigo. My eyes were open but I could not recognize anything around me anymore. The more I was afraid, the more I pulled on the control stick to the point that the plane could not climb any higher and started stalling. I could feel the control stick shaking violently and according to what I had studied, the wings of the plane lost all the lift and the plane was about to go into a spin.


    A SVNAF´s A-1E Skyraider on station over the sky of Military Region III.

    My mind was clear but my eyes were still asleep and I still couldn't see very clearly. I vaguely remember seeing the altimeter showing something like eight thousand feet. It means I had inadvertently climbed three thousand feet in the dark and in the disoriented status. From what I learned in flight school, when a Skyraider is fully loaded on the wings and gets into a diving spin, the centrifugal force would be so great that the wings would break off as the plane is spinning. Historically, nobody had ever could stop or recover from that kind of a spin. A bold thought popped on my mind and I decided to eject. I knew I was flying above an area full of enemies, but I had to take a chance, rather than stay in the plane and be killed for sure. On the intercom, I could hear the scared voice of Capt. Nghia, kept calling me to wake up from the vertigo.

    I called on the radio: "Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, Dragon 202 (my call sign that night) vertigo, eject!, then hooked both hands into the yellow "D-Ring" on the front of the seat and with all the strength, yanked it. I heard a big bang around me, the canopy blew up and flew away. The rocket of the "Yankee" ejection seat behind me stood up straight and fired. I felt the intense heat on my back for a second or two, then the seat with the parachute underneath unfolded and the rocket pulled me to a standing position and out of the plane. The wind hit me so hard in the face and I immediately snapped out of the vertigo.


    Stanley Yankee Extraction System was used in the Douglas A-1 Skyraiders.




    When the pilot activated the system by pulling a D-ring located between his thighs, the canopy was jettisoned and the rocket tilted upward and fired, extracting the pilot out of the cockpit as opposed to ejecting him.








    As I realized what was happening, I was even more terrified because the rocket failed to pull me away from the plane. It disconnected from my shoulder harnesses prematurely soon after pulling my upper body halfway out of the cockpit. My legs were caught onto the backrest frame of the seat by the seat belt and my upper body was outside of the plane. The wind whipped me back as I fought trying frantically to crawl back to the control stick. I held onto the backrest frame of the seat with one hand, the other hand used to cover my mouth. I heard pilots could get killed by the wind blowing up their stomach in such cases like this.

    I fought and fought with the wind. I felt so helpless as the plane full of bombs fell from the sky without anybody at the controls. I was prepared to die. I thought of my father, my mother, my sisters and brothers and said good bye to each and everyone of them. I knew in just a moment, I will be blown into pieces with the bombs and burnt to ashes by the fuel of the plane. I closed my eyes and counted "one, two, three, I die now. Good bye everybody. I love you all"!

    Suddenly, I told myself, I should not die this way, I have to live. I have to fight and get back to the cockpit. I again started to fight the wind, utilizing the seat belt, my legs, my feet and my hand on the backrest of the seat, I gained inch by inch and after many minutes that I thought like forever, I finally got back into the seat and grabbed the control stick. By that time, the plane had leveled itself off, without going into a spin. The technical reason was after free falling for so many thousand feet, the wings of the plane picked up the speed and lift again and got out of the stall by itself. Had there been someone inside the cockpit to fight the stall, the spin would have happened and would never have stopped.
    I looked at the altimeter and it showed seven hundred feet. My plane almost hit the ground and it fell freely for more than seven thousand feet with me dangling outside the cockpit. My heart was pounding as I disconnected the parachute harnesses because I was afraid the somewhat opened parachute might pull me out again since the canopy of the plane was gone. I descended to tree tops level and aimed toward Bien Hoa AFB. I did not dare to eject the bombs under the wings because I wouldn't want innocent people getting hurt on the ground.
    I reconnected the radio cord. I wanted to let everybody know that I am still alive and I was coming home. I was crying loud out of happiness, but could not contact anybody. (I later found out that when the canopy exploded, it knocked off the broadcast antenna from the plane, but not the receiving one). I still could hear the terrified voice of Capt. Nghia calling "the whole world" for help and asking the other Skyraider flight to look for a small fire on the ground, assuming that my plane would hit the ground and burn after I ejected.
    As I approached Bien Hoa AFB, I made a very low pass in front of the control tower, rocking my wings back and forth, signaling a radio problem. When I turned around, I received a batch of green flares shot from the tower, signaling the permission to land and I put the plane on the runnway with all 10 MK-81 bombs intact. As I taxiing by, the control tower looked at my tail ID and called Capt. Nghia and told him that I had returned to Bien Hoa and landed safely.
    By the time I pulled the wounded plane to a parking spot in front of the Tactical Operation Wing building, there were dozens of VNAF personnel, including Lt. Colonel Vinh Quan Nguyen, my Squadron Commander, an ambulance, waiting for me. Everybody heard the whole incident on the radio system. As I climbed out of the cockpit, everybody cheered and celebrated. I yelled something to the effect of blaming the parachute technician for his work, but my Squadron Commander told me to cool down and told me everybody loved to see me home alive. He took me around the plane, showing the horrible wounds on its body.
    Before being taken away to the hospital for a general check up, I fell into the arms of Lt. Colonel Vinh and cried like I had never been allowed to cry before.

  • #2
    Thanks for sharing this story. There are dozens of similar cases of harrowing scrapes with vertigo, and also egress.

    Vertigo can be nasty, and it's not a matter of if, but when, it strikes in a pilot's career. Pilot training focuses early on how to survive bouts of vertigo.

    In formation, you have two choices... you can remain in formation, and trust your lead not to kill you. 99% of the time, that works well. Or, you can go lost wingman, and if you do that, you must immediately get on the gauges, the gyros, and trust them. The mantra was always Trust your gauges, trust your gauges... When your brain is screaming "I am upside down!" and the gauges say straight and level, you've GOT to believe them.

    The worst case of vertigo I ever had was a night AA refueling mission. We were in and out of misty clouds with horizon obscured, and I was on the wing of a KC-135. As the lights and scenery played tricks, I reached a point where I would have sworn that 707 was inverted and nose low... I thought we were all plummeting towards the earth. It was truly horrifying, and in cases like this, the desire to peel away and try to recover is almost overwhelming. All you can do is stay in formation, and let your brain and inner ear settle down.

    In hindsight, this young aviator should have believed his flight lead, remained in formation, and simply waited for the vertigo to pass.

    Comment


    • #3
      I noticed that not once did the pilot mention looking at his gauges. I've read enough technothrillers to know that's what you do during vertigo, but I guess it's different when experiencing it for real life. I never got vertigo in a tank...
      Meddle not in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.

      Abusing Yellow is meant to be a labor of love, not something you sell to the highest bidder.

      Comment


      • #4
        pretty late in the war, i see. i wonder what happened to all the VNAF planes after the north took over. wasn't the VNAF by then the 4th largest in the world, or something like that?
        There is a cult of ignorance in the United States, and there has always been. The strain of anti-intellectualism has been a constant thread winding its way through our political and cultural life, nurtured by the false notion that democracy means that "My ignorance is just as good as your knowledge."- Isaac Asimov

        Comment

        Working...
        X