Fighter Pilot Follies

By Michael Petridis

You’ve seen the images from Hollywood. Macho, tough, with an almost John Wayne air about him, the fighter pilot has been famously portrayed as a gallant warrior. Now, take a look behind the scenes at a different look at the fighter pilot. Gone is the mystique and sense of danger. Instead is a fresh look at the comical aspects of being a fighter pilot; events, scenarios, during war and during peacetime, that show quite a different picture of the “hard as nails” image of the fighter pilot.

Fictitious callsigns such as “Maverick” and “Ghostrider” are replaced with “Moe,” “Larry”, and “Curly.” Yes, there are scenes where these nonchalant, easygoing fighter-pilot types are racing through the sky, boring holes in the clouds, going supersonic; but it’s how and why they are there that makes the story interesting.

Shooting rockets at the wrong target, scrambling to takeoff in the middle of the night from a dead sleep, ejecting from the aircraft after breaking it apart on the ground, getting lost while airborne, frantically trying to strafe a Soviet jet --- these are all the stories about real flying that never make the headlines of the daily paper.

Working hard and playing hard, the fighter pilot genre is shown anew, much to the reader’s delight. Those who have pressed the edge and lived to talk about it know these stories; those aspiring to do so will simply be amazed, ready to stand in line for their turn.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 26, 2007
• ISBN: 9781669814740

Michael Petridis

Michael Petridis had the honor and privilege of flying some of the world’s best fighters, the McDonnell Douglas-made F-15 Eagle and F/A-18 Hornet, in Europe during the Cold War, receiving an honorable discharge after 11 years of active duty military service. At that time, he became one of nine fighter pilots in the world to have been combat qualified in both of these aircraft. He is currently a senior partner in an aviation consulting and merger & acquisition advisory firm in the Dallas, Texas area.

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Copyright © 2006 by Michael Petridis.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 03/04/2022

Xlibris

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CONTENTS

Preface

Acknowledgment

Chapter 1 Flying on Alert

Chapter 2 Saying Good-bye (Sawadi!)

Chapter 3 Exchange Programs

Chapter 4 Deployments

Chapter 5 Combat Exercises

Chapter 6 Flying Cross-Country

Chapter 7 War Time

Chapter 8 POW Camp

Chapter 9 Turkey Shoots

Epilogue The Fighter Pilot

About the Author

To precious Sarah

It’s not the critic that counts, or how the strong man stumbled and fell, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. Credit belongs to the man who is actually standing in the arena, whose face is marred by the dust, and sweat, and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes out short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, and the great devotions, and spends his life in a worthy cause. And if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that he will never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory, nor defeat.

—Theodore Teddy Roosevelt, circa 1903

PREFACE

I n the world of the fighter pilot, huge egos come and go with the rising sun and one’s own faux pas. Attempts at a huge ego are kept in check by incredible peer pressure and strict adherence to a standard of excellence. To quote Manfred von Richthofen, Anything else is rubbish. I have never met anyone called Maverick or Ice Man; most fighter pilots I know are of the Sleepy, Sneezy, and Doc variety, with an occasional Spanky and Buckwheat (from Our Gang fame with Alfalfa) and Yoda (à la Star Wars— for the ears, not the force) mixed in. Although I’ve never met a Ghost Rider, I have flown with Ghost, aptly named due to the white streak of hair on his cranium. Ghost could not have taken Skunk for a call sign or moniker as this was already the nom de plume of another fighter pilot, also so follically challenged.

These are their stories, events that forge a brotherhood and establish a camaraderie that is unrivaled in the civilian world.¹

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

T o my fellow comrades-in-arms whose dedication, esprit de corps, and excellence are matched by no other profession: I thank you for the many memories, lessons learned and relearned, and the fact that, in the end, WE WON!

The smallest amount of vanity is fatal in aeroplane fighting. Self-distrust rather is the quality to which many a pilot owes his protracted existence.

—Capt. Edward Eddie V. Rickenbacker,

U.S. Air Service Leading U.S. Ace,

WWI, twenty-six victories

If you think Here is a master of [tactics], then you will surely lose.

—Miyamoto Musashi

CHAPTER 1

Flying on Alert

Good flying never killed [an enemy] yet.

—Maj. Edward Mick Mannock, Royal Air Force

Second Leading British Ace, WWI,

at least fifty victories

L ieutenant Flat Swartz was sitting in his fighter jet at the alert hangar, waiting for the command to launch. He had trained many years for this situation, having graduated near the top of his class in both undergraduate pilot training class and basic combat training. The adrenaline was flowing freely as the command to launch was given. This was the height of the Cold War, and a launch from the alert facility could mean that the Soviets had attacked or that an attack was imminent. Airborne instructions from the command and control authorities would clarify the situation.

Flat followed his leader onto the runway and blasted off into the darkness with full afterburner power. However, upon climbing out and following his flight lead, Flat realized he had a problem. He was not gaining on the other jet, a desirable goal to get established in proper formation. Now was the moment of truth: should Flat swallow his pride and beg his flight lead to reduce his power to effect a quick rejoin (which a good flight lead had already reduced for such purpose), or should he continue to stay two miles behind, out of formation? Well, after knowing that any such call for power reduction would certainly be the talk over the bar at happy hour, Flat decided for the former and made his request.

Now, at the same time, his flight lead also wondered why Flat was taking so long to get into formation. So looking over his shoulder through the bubble canopy, he was shocked to see a landing light glaring at him in the distance. His response to Flat’s call for a power reduction was to the effect that Flat should shut off his landing light. Flat did so (a convenient switch located just beside his left knee) and instantly realized that the landing light was on because it was attached to the nose gear, meaning that the landing gear was still down. In his excitement over a launch from the alert facility, Flat had forgotten to raise his landing gear and was now at three hundred knots, well past the maximum structural safety speed for the landing gear. The aerodynamic drag from the landing gear in the down position was keeping Flat at a nice and tidy trail position two miles from his flight lead. Flat raised the landing gear, got into formation, and proceeded with the mission. He knew the bar talk at happy hour the next Friday would not be in his favor.

Flying off alert can be a daunting task. You have to be airborne in five minutes, even from a dead sleep. The alert facility is a separate compound of hangars and office buildings near the end of the runway, away from the main building, which serves as the military base’s flying operations center. One never knows when the Klaxon goes off, whether it is a practice flight (at the bequest of the commanding general) or a real-world, the-Commies-are-coming scenario. Only after starting the engines and authenticating the launch instructions with the local command post does the pilot understand what the situation is, but then, never fully. It is amazing what sacrifices and acts of desperation pilots will do to achieve this goal. If called to scramble (the word scramble here means a high-tailed sprint as if your life depended on it!) for takeoff in the middle of the night, pilots would sometimes forget their boots (most would sleep fully clothed, even still wearing their G suits!) or run headlong into a closed door, furiously trying to remember how to work the doorknob.

There are numerous stories of pilots running headlong into the edge of the door after the Klaxon sounds, splitting open their foreheads, with blood gushing everywhere; or trying to figure out why the jet won’t advance forward, only to remember the chocks were still safely tucked in under the wheels; or adding so much power coming out of the hangar that they literally blew over the maintenance trucks (these were similar to the bread vans from days long past or the UPS or FedEx trucks today); or (still in a stupor from being suddenly awoken) trying to grab an imaginary ladder and climb up to the cockpit.

After a rash of such incidents, the squadron operations officer, Gomer, as he was affectionately known (the number 2 senior officer in the outfit), held a come-to-Jesus meeting and proceeded to warn all the pilots in no uncertain terms the need for safety, professionalism, and attention to detail when flying