by Julie Tizard
“Thanks, ma’am,” Casey answered softly.
When they got back to the flight room, Captain Hardesty filled out her grade sheet for the sim ride. “Do you have any questions on any of the EPs you saw today that we didn’t already debrief?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Remember what I said today, Casey. Good job.” She stood, handed the grade book back to Casey, and walked out of the flight room.
Casey opened her black grade book and looked at her grade sheet. Every maneuver was graded Good or Excellent. Overall mission grade, Excellent. She fought back tears as relief flowed through her.
*****
Casey walked into the flight room the next morning with a new confidence and resolve. She could handle anything Carter threw at her today. She was hoping to see Captain Hardesty again to thank her, but her name wasn’t on the schedule board. She found her own name on the board—a second period flight with Carter. She had three flights left before she was supposed to solo and knew he had to see dramatic improvement in her flying before he would let her solo. She was fully prepared to show him that today.
They went out to the jet, and he started in on her almost immediately, yelling at her for the way she put the canopy handle down. I’m a duck. I will let his shit roll off my back. She repeated this mantra for the whole flight as he continued to scream at her. Even as they taxied in, he pounded the glare shield with his fist and yelled, “Well, goddamn it, you finally made a decent landing!”
His debrief was short and he gave her an overall grade of Fair on the ride, and he still didn’t give her very good grades on the individual maneuvers. She had to earn grades of “good” or better on all the maneuvers before she could solo the jet. Her grades were not even close.
After everyone left the flight room to go fly, she was alone in the room with Captain Arnau, who was working on the schedule board for the next day’s flights. An idea came to her.
“Excuse me, Captain Arnau, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, Lieutenant.”
“Is there any way you can schedule me to fly with Captain Hardesty for the rest of my flights?”
Captain Arnau stopped what she was doing and turned to look at Casey. “She’s a guest help IP, Casey. She flies with all the flights in the squadron, not just ours.”
“I know, ma’am, but I was really hoping she could solo me out.”
“Why?”
“Um, she’s just really experienced and she communicates really clearly.”
“We don’t normally have guest help IPs solo out students unless there is a problem with your regular IP. Are you having a problem with Lieutenant Carter?”
“Well, ma’am, I’d rather not go into that. I’m just more comfortable flying with Captain Hardesty. Please, Captain Arnau, I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out.”
“Casey, I’d like to, but I can’t unless the flight commander authorizes me to. Maybe you need to go talk to him.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll think about that. Thanks anyway.”
“Sorry, Casey.”
She had a very big decision to make now. Most student pilots didn’t ever want to talk to the flight commander. You only spoke to him if you were about to be washed out or had committed some big infraction. Student pilots didn’t ever complain about their IPs. It simply was not done. You were supposed to suck it up, endure whatever abuse was dumped on you, and just get through it. If she asked the flight commander to change her IP to Captain Hardesty, this could be seen as weakness on her part—like she couldn’t hack it. This was a huge risk she was contemplating, and she had to decide fast. She could either get what she wanted, to solo with Captain Hardesty, or it could blow up in her face and Carter would be even more enraged with her. She had to be tough and show Carter she could fly in spite of his abuse. Her future as a pilot, and her life’s dream, depended on it.
*****
“Captain Hardesty, could you come into my office for a minute?” asked Captain George Stavros, the Good Grief flight commander.
“Sure, George, what’s up?”
“Guess who just asked the scheduler to not fly with their assigned IP? The first such request from anyone in this class, by the way.”
“I give, George, who?”
“Lieutenant Casey Tompkins. And guess who she wants to fly with, to solo her out?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. She hasn’t spoken to me or made this an official IP change request yet. Care to tell me what’s going on with her?”
“I’m honestly surprised she asked to fly with me, but I’m not surprised she asked Barb to not fly her with Carter.”
“And why is that, Kathryn? What do you know that I, as the flight commander, obviously do not know about my own troops?”
“First, Dave Carter is a screamer. She just doesn’t respond to instruction like that. Plus, he didn’t teach her how to trim, he’s been giving her low maneuver grades, and he’s trying to document a failure to progress. He’s setting her up to wash her out, George.”
“Dave is going to throw a hissy fit if I have her solo with you, you know that, don’t you.”
“Yeah, so what if he does? What’s more important here, George? Catering to a screaming IP’s delicate ego or teaching a student how to fly?”
“I was your assistant flight commander for two years, you taught me everything I know about running this flight, and you know I have nothing but the highest respect for you, but you are putting me in a very difficult position here.”
“George, there is a student pilot who needs help. She wants an IP who will teach her to fly and not scream at her, but she’s reluctant to ask you because she doesn’t want to look like a wimp. If anyone put you in a bad spot here, it was Dave Carter, not Casey Tompkins. Why don’t you let me solo her out. If she can’t cut it, I will bust her and build an airtight case for you to wash her out. As always, the decision is up to you. Do what you think is best.”
“I’ll let you know what I decide.”
“Sure thing, George.”
Well, well, well. Lieutenant Casey Tompkins, you’ve got some guts, girl.
Chapter Eight
Casey had no idea what to expect as she walked into the flight room the next morning at 0315 hours. She might have gotten her wish to fly with Captain Hard-Ass and gone right from the frying pan into the fire. She looked at the schedule board. She was flying with Captain Hardesty in exactly one hour and fifteen minutes. She sat at her table with Mike and Jeff. Mike was flying with Carter first period, and Jeff was flying with him second period.
“Why are you flying with Captain Hardesty again, Casey?” Mike asked.
“I guess they didn’t have any one else to fly with me.”
“Well, she can’t be any worse than Carter. He’s been passing me on my rides, but I don’t know why. I feel like I can’t do anything right because he screams and swears at me so much.”
“He does?” For some reason, she assumed he only screamed at her, not the other guys.
“Does he scream at you too, Jeff?” Mike asked.
“Yeah, all the time, but I’m used to it. I used to be in the Marine Corps. We’re used to people screaming at us. You guys are just whisky deltas.”
“What’s a whisky delta, Casey?” Mike whispered.
“It means ‘weak dick,’” she answered.
“Jeff’s as bad as Carter sometimes.”
The room was called to attention as the IPs walked in for the morning briefing. Carter sat at his table and didn’t even look at Casey. He started briefing Mike and Jeff on their flights, then she sensed Captain Hardesty standing behind her.
“Let’s brief up in the flight commander’s office, Lieutenant Tompkins.”
Carter glared at both Casey and Captain Hardesty as she got up from the table.
“Casey, I’ll be real honest with you, you’re way behind where you should be for this stage of training.”
“Yes, ma’am, I know, and I really appreciate you
flying with me today.”
“You may regret saying that. I didn’t get the call sign ‘Hard-Ass’ for nothing. I’m not cutting you any slack just because you’re a woman. I’m going to do my best to get you up to speed, but ultimately, this is on you. What’s the main problem with your landings?”
“I’m not sure. They just don’t seem to be very consistent.”
“What pitch picture are you using in the final turn?”
“Pitch picture? I’m setting the power at seventy percent and flying at one hundred and ten knots.”
“Do you know what pitch attitude you should be seeing in the final turn?”
“I’m not sure I do, ma’am.”
“That’s what I was afraid of. You’re not looking outside when you fly. You’re only looking inside at the instruments. Okay, this is going to be a pattern only ride today. I’m going to demonstrate the first pattern and landing for you and tell you exactly what you should be seeing out the windscreen. Do you remember from your dollar ride what I told you about hearing and feeling the plane when you fly?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We’re going to work on that today. You don’t have to look at the RPM gauges to know the power setting. You just have to set the throttles in the correct position and listen for the sound of the engines. If you set the right pitch attitude in the final turn by looking out the window, you’ll be exactly on the correct glide path at the right airspeed. We are going to beat up the pattern until you get it right.”
This made so much sense to Casey.
When they walked together across the ramp to the airplane, Casey was more at ease already than in her previous flights. This ride would be tough, but she was optimistic for the first time.
“Casey, I’m going to fly the initial takeoff and the first pattern and landing. I want you to put your hands on the stick and throttles and follow along on the controls with me. The most important thing I want you to do today is look out the windscreen. Look at the picture of where the horizon is during the climb, as we slow down, the final turn, final approach, and the flare during the landing. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Casey’s hands were connected to Captain Hardesty’s hands as she felt her move the stick and throttles. Energy flowed between them into her hands from Captain Hardesty as she flew the jet.
“Tango 76, request closed pattern,” Captain Hardesty transmitted over the radio.
“Closed approved,” replied the runway supervisory unit.
She rolled the airplane sharply into a turn, pulled three Gs as she climbed up to traffic pattern altitude, and leveled off at precisely the correct altitude.
“I’m checking my spacing. The runway should look like it’s under the Air Force star on the wing.” Casey understood what she was looking for. The spacing from the runway was perfect.
“When we are abeam the runway numbers, power idle, slow to one hundred twenty knots, and trim, trim, trim.” She pulled the power to idle and flicked the trim button on the top of the stick with her gloved thumb several times as the airspeed decreased to final turn speed.
“Look back over your left shoulder. The runway touchdown point should be on a forty-five-degree line behind us. This is the perch point.” She extended the speed brake, put the landing gear down, and lowered the flaps.
“Tango 76, gear down, touch-and-go.”
“Tango 76, cleared touch-and-go,” the RSU replied.
“I set the pitch attitude at one-third sky, two-thirds ground, thirty degrees of bank. Remember this picture. Bring the power back one knob width, this is seventy percent RPM, and trim off the stick pressure. Don’t look at the end of the runway yet. Imagine there is a football goalpost off the end of the runway and we are going to fly right through it like we’re a football. As we approach the ‘goalpost,’ start to look for the threshold of the runway. That’s what you’re aiming at. Check your runway aim point is one-third the way up the windscreen, then glance at your airspeed. It should be pretty close to one hundred knots. Cross-check aim point, then airspeed, and make small corrections. When the beginning of the runway starts to go under the nose, landing is assured, bring your head up and pick up the horizon. Power idle and start your flare for landing. Bring the nose up just slightly, hold that picture as the speed comes off, then touchdown.”
Her words were perfectly timed with her actions as Casey watched Captain Hardesty fly a flawless pattern and landing.
“Your turn, Casey. You have the aircraft.”
“Roger, I have the aircraft.”
She requested a closed traffic pattern and tried her best to make it look just like Captain Hardesty’s. Casey performed the landing sequence just like she’d seen and was amazed when she rolled out on final exactly on speed and on glide path. She focused on her aim point and her airspeed and saw out of the corner of her eye that Captain Hardesty had her hands near, but not on, the controls. She pulled the power to idle, held the landing attitude, and touched down smoothly for the first time. She wanted to whoop out loud.
“My airplane, Casey.”
“Roger, your aircraft, ma’am.” Casey wondered what she did wrong.
“That wasn’t too bad. You lost a little altitude before you started your final turn because you’re not quite trimming enough. Every time your power or speed changes, you have to re-trim the aircraft. Good touchdown. Let’s try it again.”
The ride continued with Casey flying, Captain Hardesty giving her critiques and corrections to fix her landings, and no yelling. After a few tries, Casey was flying simulated single engine landings, no flap touch-and-go landings, left and right overhead patterns, traffic pattern breakouts and re-entries, and she even greased on one landing. I’m getting this. I think I’m actually getting this.
“It’s my turn to fly, Casey.”
Captain Hardesty yanked the jet into a ninety-degree banked turn, pulled hard on the stick with five Gs of force, ripped the throttles to idle, slammed the landing gear handle down, and rolled the plane into a very tight descending turn to the runway.
There’s no way she’s going to make this landing.
She rolled out on a very short final approach with the power still at idle, perfectly on glide path at exactly the correct airspeed, then gently touched the airplane down with a slight squeak from the tires.
Wow. So that’s how it’s done.
*****
When they went back into the flight room for the debrief, Lieutenant Carter was sitting at his table already debriefing Mike. Carter was scowling and muttering under his breath as Mike was nodding with a very dejected look on his face. Casey could only cringe at what Carter might be saying to him.
“Captain Arnau, do you mind if we debrief at your table?”
“Sure, Captain Hardesty, it’s all yours.” Even though they were friends, Casey noticed they always addressed each other with their military ranks in front of the students.
“Casey, I saw improvement in your flying today. You still have a long way to go, but if you keep this up, I think you’ll be able to solo.”
A weight lifted off Casey’s shoulders. She felt encouraged for the first time.
“You were getting too bogged down in the details and not looking out the window at the big picture. You know the correct sight pictures and you know the procedures. You need to chair fly the landings as much as you can. When you are doing this, close your eyes and visualize in your mind the images you saw today as you were flying. Move your hands just like you’re flying, especially using the trim button, and this will come together for you. I also want you to go out to the RSU and observe the traffic pattern. Listen for all the radio calls and look at where the planes are in the pattern. This will help with your situation awareness. For the next ride, I need to see more improvement, show me that you can consistently land the airplane safely, and that you can handle any situation in the pattern. Overall grade, Good.”
Captain Hardesty handed her grade sheet to Casey as she stood to leave. Casey stared at the ind
ividual grades for a long time: normal overhead pattern—good, single engine overhead—good, no flap landing—fair, normal landing—good. I earned these grades. I think I can really do this.
*****
The next morning, Casey was energized and excited about flying. She’d practiced the maneuvers in her room several times, chair flying exactly as Captain Hardesty told her to. She’d taken the photo of the instrument panel from her flight manual and had it enlarged so it was life-sized and propped it up on her coffee table. She used her tennis racket handle as the aircraft stick, and she put her racquetball racket between the couch cushions to use as the throttle. She was able to picture flying perfect landing patterns seeing the correct pitch attitudes and moving her hands at exactly the right time. She was ready to show Captain Hardesty that she could fly this jet.
The pre-brief was short and sweet.
“Same as yesterday, Casey, except we’re going out to the practice area for stalls, slow flight and spins, then into the auxiliary field for landings and back here for more landings. I’m not saying much today. I expect you to make all the decisions, correct your own errors, and fly like you are solo.”
Casey walked out to the airplane with a new confidence. She moved her hands swiftly over the gauges and switches as she completed her preflight checks. She made a good takeoff and departure to the practice area. She went through the practice maneuvers without hesitation. Captain Hardesty sat next to her without saying a word and her hands in her lap. The traffic pattern was busy as she descended into the aux field. She listened on the radio for the call signs of the other planes to figure out where they were located in the traffic pattern.
She flew up to the initial point at two hundred knots, one thousand feet above the ground, cleared the airspace to her right, snapped the airplane into a sixty-degree banked turn, and pulled hard on the stick. The three Gs of force on her body felt familiar and comfortable now as she rolled out on altitude with proper spacing from the runway. Her movements were almost automatic—gear, flaps, speed brake, trim, radio calls—as she looked out the big windscreen. She knew exactly what pitch picture to set and talked to herself out loud as she really felt the airplane for the first time. “A little high, lower the nose. A little fast, power back.” She rolled out on final on centerline, on glide path, on speed. Her focus was on the end of the runway. “Aim point, airspeed, aim point, airspeed.” She held the stick lightly with just her fingertips, trimming off even slight pressure. “Landing assured, power idle.” She brought the nose up for the flare. “Hold that picture, hold that picture,” she told herself as the jet settled to the runway for a smooth touchdown.