Chase: “He seems to be in position.”
NASA-1: “OK, you have 30 degrees stabilizer.” [Thirty degrees nose up stabilizer.]
Neil: …
NASA-1: “Your surfaces are bottomed out.” [Stabilizer is full nose up in an attempt to pull g to turn.]
Neil: “I agree, 300 knots. They’re coming down now.”
NASA-1: “You’re heading toward the homebase at zero zero zero degrees now.” [The aircraft has finally turned back toward Edwards.]
Neil: “I have the base in sight, Joe.”
During the pullout portion of the entry, Neil was monitoring the g limiting feature of the flight control system. During this period the airplane completed the pullout and actually began a slight climb. Neil did not notice this ballooning or bounce tendency and when Joe first called for a hard left turn, Neil rolled into a 60-degree left bank and pulled up in angle of attack to start the turn. When he got the next hard left turn call, he realized that he was above the atmosphere and was not turning. He sailed right on by Edwards and Palmdale in a 90-degree bank with full nose up stabilizer trying to turn the aircraft around.
This situation typifies the problem of energy management in high-speed flight. Neil was traveling at approximately Mach 3 at 100,000 feet as he passed over Edwards. At this high altitude, it is not possible to pull enough g to change the flight path rapidly. The aircraft continues down the flight path until it slows down and descends enough to turn around. The only way Neil could have expedited the turn was to roll on over and pull down into the atmosphere to build up his g or turn capability. Neil finally realized this, but by that time he was 45 miles south of Edwards, over La Canada and the Rose Bowl. He now had a major problem facing him. Could he make it back to Edwards? Ironically, too much energy as he boomed by Edwards a few moments ago had now left him in a position of possibly not having enough energy to get back to Edwards.
NASA-1: “What is your visual estimate of your location?”
Neil: “Looks like I’m pretty … in pretty bad shape for the south lakebed.”
NASA-1: “You’re at 8 degrees alpha?”
Neil: “Affirmative, and I’m going to jettison now.”
NASA-1: “What altitude, Neil?”
Neil: “Got 47,000.”
NASA-1: “Yes, we check that. Have you decided what your landing runway is yet?”
Neil was not sure that he could make it back to Edwards. In his postflight debriefing, he noted that, “the only other alternative at that point would have been Palmdale and I didn’t want to get into their traffic pattern.” If he had landed at Palmdale, it is doubtful that Neil could have kept the aircraft on the concrete runway due to the lack of steering capability in the X-15 during slideout.
Neil was not getting any help on energy management from the control room. This was partially due to the fact that our calculations were not accurate and that we never planned on the aircraft approaching from the south. We had no checkpoints marked on the map to the south of Edwards. All of the flights normally approached Edwards from the north or northeast. Neil had to decide if he could make it back to Edwards. No one else could offer much help at that instant.
Neil added, “Mirage Lake was about as far away as Rogers, and Rosamond (dry lake) wasn’t much closer so I decided to head for the south lakebed at Edwards. It looked like we were in good shape.” The radio communications continued.
Neil: “Let me get up here a little closer. I can definitely make the base now.”
NASA-1: “Yep.”
Neil: “Check head bumper up, I’m 41,000.”
NASA-1: “We’re 26 miles to the south lakebed and have you at 40,000.” [NASA-1 is telling Neil that he is 26 miles from the south lakebed and that he is at 40,000 feet altitude.]
Neil: “OK.”
NASA-1: “Stop jettison on peroxide.”
Neil: “Rog. OK, the landing will be on runway three-five south lake and will be [a] straight-in approach and I’m at 32,000, going to use some brakes to make it. OK, I’m about … approaching … pretty hard to tell from here.”
Chase: “OK, I’ve got you now. I’m one o’clock to you.”
Neil: “OK.”
Chase: “Don’t know if I’ll be with you though.” [The chase had been in position to join up for a landing on the north lakebed. He had to quickly revise his flight path to attempt to rendezvous with Neil as he approached the south lakebed. He was not sure that he could rendezvous before Neil landed.]
Neil: “OK, going to use some brakes to get in … OK, the ventral is armed and the brakes are in. I’m landing on three-five and I’m about 15 miles out from the end now. Peroxide-low light is out, on again, source is 1,600 pounds. I’m turning 290 knots.”
Chase: “Coming up on your left.”
Neil: “OK, I haven’t got a hold of you yet. And a little brakes here. I’m back to pressurize. Going to land in sort of the middle of the south lakebed. Brakes are in again, 280.”
Chase-4: “Henry, I’ll take the left side if you want me to.”
Chase-3: “Rog.”
Neil: “You want to call the ventral jettison, Harvey?”
Chase-4: “OK.”
Neil: “Little shorter than I thought.”
Chase-4: “You can punch it out anytime you want to Neil for drag.”
Neil: “Oh, I should have done that before shouldn’t I?”
Chase-4: “Yep. Start your flaps down now … Off. OK, you’re well in, go ahead and put her down. Very nice, Neil.”
NASA-1: “The posse [recover convoy] will get there shortly.”
Chase-4: [Sarcastically] “In about 30 minutes.” [The recovery vehicles were all up on the north lakebed anticipating a landing there as originally planned. They had to drive almost 10 miles to rendezvous with Neil on the south lakebed.]
Helicopter: “We’ll be there, Neil.”
In the postflight debriefing, there was a discussion of the approach to landing on the south lakebed. It was generally agreed that it was a rather close call making it in to the runway. Someone asked how much clearance Neil had from the Joshua trees on the edge of the lakebed. The chase pilot answered, “Oh, at least 100 feet … on either side.” Neil was right down among ’em.
This flight was the longest duration flight on record, 12 minutes, 28.7 seconds. It was referred to as Neil’s cross-country flight. It was also the largest miss distance for a planned touchdown point (12 miles) but Neil later managed to make a much more precise landing—“on the moon!”
THE DEPUTY’S BAD LANDING
One of the pilot’s “other duties as assigned” was flying VIPs when necessary. Our deputy director, De E. Beeler, called the pilot’s office one day to request a T-33 ride down to Los Angeles International Airport. This was rather unusual. We did sometimes fly people down to LAX for various reasons, but we normally flew them down in our C-47. On this occasion, the deputy director wanted to be dropped off at the TWA terminal to catch a flight out to Washington, D.C. He did not explain why he wanted the T-33 instead of the C-47, but we assumed that he wanted to make a big impression as he climbed out of a military jet in his business suit to board a passenger airliner.
I was chosen to make the flight. The weather at LAX was not very good, so I had to be prepared to spend some time in the holding pattern. I did not want to have to shut down and refuel at LAX. I had the airplane loaded with enough fuel to spend some time in the holding pattern and to make the round-trip plus some extra fuel for taxiing around the airport to drop off my passenger. By the time I added a couple of extra gallons just to be safe, I had a pretty good fuel load. I called Approach Control as I crossed the San Gabriel Mountains for an instrument approach into LAX.
I fully expected a long delay due to all the airline traffic. I was cleared to descend immediately and given a vector to begin my approach. I broke out of the overcast on final approach at 400 feet and prepared to land. I was slightly long and fast and I was very heavy since I had only been airborne 20 minutes. I touched dow
n very gently, but I was in too big a hurry to start braking. I just barely touched the brakes when the right tire blew. The airplane began to swerve off the runway and I had to apply the left brake to stop the swerve. The left tire blew, and suddenly I had no brakes at all. I managed to keep the airplane on the runway, but I did take out a couple of runway lights before the airplane stopped. Our deputy director certainly made an impression on his arrival at LAX. It was not what he had in mind, but what the heck—he got some attention.
A vehicle and crew came out to assess the situation. It was obvious that the aircraft could not be easily moved, so they decided to close the runway and wait until the aircraft could be repaired. They notified NASA Edwards of the problem and NASA indicated they would send parts and a crew down to repair the aircraft. They hauled my passenger off to the TWA terminal and I was left with my airplane on the side of the left-hand runway.
It took over an hour for our NASA C-47 to arrive with spare wheels and a maintenance crew. It took another half hour to change the two wheels, reconnect the brake lines, and recharge the brake fluid. Both brake lines had come loose after the tires had blown during the landing rollout. We got the airplane started with a borrowed start cart and then the crew had to help me turn the aircraft back to the center of the runway because the brakes were soaked with brake fluid. We finally got the aircraft straightened out on the runway centerline and I added power for takeoff. Luckily, I was able to keep it headed down the runway and I got airborne without any real problem.
When I arrived at work the morning after the incident, I was told that Joe Walker had returned from Washington, D.C. the previous day on an airliner and had to spend an extra 45 minutes in a holding pattern because one of the runways was obstructed. When the airliner finally landed, Joe looked out the window and saw two of “his” aircraft sitting on the other runway. His aircraft had caused the 45-minute delay. I was damn glad he had not come to work that day and that he took the rest of the week off.
I was obviously very chagrined about the whole affair and I took a lot of ribbing for many years about that incident. I tried to convince the other pilots that it was the deputy director’s fault. I told them that he had had his feet on the brakes when we had landed, and to add credence to that story I claimed to have broadcast over the air my admonition to the deputy to, “get his damn feet off the brakes.” No one bought that story.
Chapter 5
In the Contrails of Giants
(1962–1964)
Following Neil Armstrong’s MH-96 evaluation flights in the number three X-15, Bob White made a checkout flight and then two flights for contractual demonstration of the MH-96 flight control system. Although Bob’s flights were justified as contractual demonstration flights, there was another motive in making these flights. The USAF had arbitrarily designated an altitude of 50 miles as the altitude separating aerodynamic flight from space flight. To achieve an astronaut rating and wings, a pilot had to exceed 50 miles altitude, or 264,000 feet. These flights were utilized to build up in altitude to qualify Bob for astronaut wings.
Bob’s checkout flight was routine except that he undershot his planned altitude by more than 20,000 feet. His explanation for the undershoot sounded vaguely familiar. He thought he was climbing much steeper than planned. Bob said, “The reason that we went low on the profile was because of me. When we got up to 32 degrees, and at about 60 seconds in time, I guess it was just a small case of disorientation. I say a small case because I didn’t lose complete orientation but when I was up at this climb angle, and this is the first time that I’ve had this feeling, I looked at the ball. I had 32 degrees in pitch, but I had the darndest feeling that I was continuing to rotate. I couldn’t resist the urge just to push on back down until the light blue of the sky showed up. I never did get to the horizon. Then I was satisfied that it wasn’t happening. I pulled back up, but that’s the reason for the lower altitude.” Bob described the flight control system as “quite remarkably good. I like it and I’d like to try it again.”
Bob’s second flight was also routine. His actual maximum altitude was just 3,000 feet less than the planned altitude of 250,000 feet, a very accurate flight profile. Bob did note when he looked out the window at peak altitude, “When you’re up there it feels like everything is right under the nose. It was reassuring again to hear ground saying, ‘You’re right on profile and track.’ That eliminates any concern on the pilot’s part for sure.” The concern, of course, was the typical one on the altitude flights that you were going to substantially overshoot Edwards during the descent.
The third flight was planned to 282,000 feet altitude. Bob actually achieved 314,750 feet. There was a suspicion that Bob intentionally overshot his altitude to establish an unbeatable altitude record. This was never confirmed, however, subsequent experience indicated that substantial altitude overshoots were not uncommon. It was relatively easy to miss the desired altitude by 10,000 to 20,000 feet.
The third flight was flown on July 17, 1962. It was launched out of Delamar Lake, north of Las Vegas, Nevada. At 1 minute to launch Bob commented, “OK, my MH system has dropped out, completely dropped off the line.” This meant that his primary flight control system was not working. The B-52 pilot asked NASA-1 if they wanted him to make a 360-degree turn while they sorted out the problem. Before NASA-1 could answer, Bob called again and said that he had reset his circuit breakers and he was ready for the 1- minute countdown call. The B-52 then called, “One minute now,” and the countdown proceeded on to launch.
In retrospect, this seemed to be a rather cavalier response to a major problem. The entire electronic flight control system went belly up and the only reaction was to check the circuit breakers, reset, and then proceed with the flight. That was a rather risky action since the electronic flight control system was essential for a safe reentry, but things worked out satisfactorily. If that sort of thing happened today, we would cancel the flight and troubleshoot the flight control system for weeks, if necessary, to determine the cause of the momentary failure. We may be somewhat safer nowadays, but I am not sure we are much smarter.
The boost portion of the flight went well. Bob was late on engine shutdown and thus, high on energy. After the flight, someone asked Bob what his climb angle was. Bob replied, “I would say that it averaged just about 41 degrees. I was darned if I was going to be low on this one.” He commented that, “It seemed like a hell of a long time to get over the top.” He peaked out at 314,000 feet altitude, 32,000 feet higher than planned. That kind of averaged out the three flights. He was 20,000 feet low on the first, almost perfect on the second, and 30,000 feet high on the third. Bob would have made a good artillery man. After the flight, Bob said, “This looked like I was quite a bit higher than the last flight because I could just look out and—you know what the pictures look like when the guy is flying around in orbit, well, that’s what it looked like.”
Someone asked him, “What were the limits on the horizon going over the top? How far could you see?” Bob’s answer was, “You could see as far as you looked. I turned my head in both directions and you see nothing but the earth. It’s just tremendous. You look off and the sky is real dark. I didn’t think the impression would be much different than it was up around 250,000 feet, but I was impressed remarkably more than I was at 250,000 feet. It amazed me. I looked up and was able to pick out San Francisco Bay (about 400 miles away) and it looked like it was down over there off the right wing and I could look out, way out. It was just tremendous, absolutely tremendous!”
In a more technical vein, Bob said, “I’ll tell you fellas, this is getting high, and I’d hate to lose stability augmentation. You can toss in the towel if you lose stability augmentation.” In other words, if the flight control system was not working properly to damp out any vehicle motions, the pilot probably could not make a successful entry. This, of course, is the system that went belly up just before launch. During the entry, Bob commented on the severe eyeballs out g forces and the pain due to the bloo
d pooling in his right arm.
Bob completed the pullout and came level much further down range than planned due to the overshoot in altitude. He, in fact, was almost over the north lakebed at Edwards when he completed the pullout. You might say that he hit the high-key position at Mach 3.5 and 80,000 feet altitude. He had the potential energy to go whizzing right by Edwards, just as Neil had done.
He commented, “I was mainly concerned at this time with the possibility of overshooting the landing point. When I went by the lake (Edwards) and turned it around and when I went around in the turn, I just pushed in on the bottom rudder, so I could get the nose down and stay in (the atmosphere) where I had some dynamic pressure. I didn’t want any bounce in altitude. If I had gotten a bounce, I would never have gotten back.”
Bob made a wide sweeping turn around the Edwards and Rosamond Lakes and came back in to a more normal high key at 28,000 feet at subsonic speed. He continued around for a perfect landing. Joe Walker in NASA-1 commented, “Good shot, chief,” and closed out the flight by saying, “This is your happy controller going off the air.”
Bob had made a great flight and had also demonstrated the ability of the X-15 to handle an extreme amount of excess energy in the approach pattern and still recover successfully. This ability to handle large variations in energy was emphasized during the design of the space shuttle as a very desirable feature for unpowered vehicles.
This altitude (314,000 feet) is still an FAI record altitude for airplanes. It can only be surpassed one time because space begins at 100,000 meters (approximately 328,000 feet) according to the FAI definition. To surpass Bob’s record, one must exceed it by 3 percent, which is roughly 10,000 feet. Thus there is only one opportunity to exceed Bob’s altitude and still stay below 328,000 feet, the beginning of space. Walker’s subsequent flight to 354,200 feet did not qualify as a record altitude. It will be some time before anyone beats Bob’s official record in an airplane.
At the Edge of Space Page 14