by Julie Tizard
“Yes, sir?”
“Have some fun out there tomorrow.”
Casey smiled as she put her grade book away. Tomorrow she would solo the White Rocket. She couldn’t wait.
*****
Kathryn stopped by the T-38 squadron to review a few grade books and to check the Gombey flight schedule board. She was glad to see Casey scheduled for her solo flight tomorrow. She’d seen improvement in Casey’s landings from observing her at the RSU. Her frequent safety visits to the RSU were getting noticed. None of the IPs who worked as controllers in the RSU had made the connection between her visits and Casey’s flight schedule yet, but she had gotten a few comments as to why she was dropping in on the RSU so much. She decided she would visit the main air traffic control tower instead of the RSU when Casey returned from the practice area on her solo flight.
She enjoyed watching Casey fly, and she loved hearing her voice on the radio. She sounded confident and she was showing some real heads-up thinking when she flew around the traffic pattern. Casey was doing as well as, or frequently better than, any student pilot she’d ever seen. Kathryn was starting to feel confident that Casey would make it through the T-38 and earn her wings. She still had lots to learn—low-level navigation, four-ship formation—but she was definitely showing promise.
Only one thing would make things better right now. If she and Casey didn’t have to fear losing their careers and flying because the Air Force found out they were gay. Kathryn wished they could have the freedom to explore the possibility of a real relationship. She loved flying as an Air Force pilot, but having to hide and lie about who she was, was becoming a very heavy burden to bear. She’d always been able to handle the conflict of serving with honesty and integrity while having to lie about her personal life, but now she was questioning how long she could continue this charade. When she was a second lieutenant, having a female “roommate” was not unusual. But she would be up for promotion to major soon and she knew she’d be under even more scrutiny. She had her lesbian friends, and the secret Air Force underground of the softball team, but the price of always being on guard was damaging her spirit.
She might allow herself the luxury of calling Casey tomorrow to congratulate her on her solo flight. That wouldn’t be seen as unusual between an IP and a former student. She hoped Casey would be glad to hear from her despite everything that had happened, and not happened, between them.
*****
Casey woke the next morning filled with excitement to fly her T-38 solo mission. She felt prepared and ready. She couldn’t wait to fly the jet by herself. She reviewed the weather forecast and it was a perfect fall day in Arizona with light winds and crystal blue skies. She signed out her jet and got her solo briefing from the supervisor of flying.
With her helmet, parachute, and G-suit, she walked across the ramp to her jet with her head held high. The crew chief greeted her and followed her on the aircraft walk-around inspection. The jet looked perfect—tall, shining, and magnificent.
The engines fired up perfectly and she taxied out to the runway. She had a small twinge of disappointment at not seeing the flight safety blue pickup truck next to the RSU.
“AWOL 45 Solo, cleared for takeoff,” the RSU said over the radio.
“Roger, AWOL 45 Solo, cleared for takeoff,” Casey answered.
She advanced the throttles to mil power, both engines accelerated smoothly as they roared to full power, then she pushed the throttles into full afterburner, released the brakes, and her head again snapped back against the headrest as she shot down the runway. Once they were airborne, she turned the plane to fly to the practice area, calmed her breathing back to normal, and relished the quiet and the view. The only sound was the whine of the high-speed air around the jet and the powerful growl of the engines.
It was a spectacularly beautiful day to fly with puffy white clouds against the blue sky and colorful mountains in the distance. Albuquerque Center assigned her the Globe practice area, which was her favorite, since it was right over San Carlos Mountain. She went through her planned acrobatic maneuvers just as she’d visualized. She set up for her aileron roll and did six in a row—just for the fun of it. The jet rolled so fast she was laughing out loud. She checked her fuel. She wanted to get back to the traffic pattern with plenty of gas in case the pattern was busy.
“Albuquerque Center, AWOL 45 Solo, request clearance to Willie.”
“AWOL 45 Solo, cleared right turn direct to Williams, descend and maintain flight level two-five-zero.”
She turned the jet toward the arrival fix, and just as she reduced power for her descent, the red master warning light came on. She blinked her eyes and looked at the red light again. It was not an apparition, but instead a real warning light. Fuck! What the hell is this?
After a split second of disbelief, her training kicked in. “Maintain aircraft control,” she said. The plane seemed to be flying all right at the moment. “Analyze the situation and take proper action.” Casey looked down at the lower right side console by her leg, and the amber “Right Generator” light was on. She’d lost her right electrical generator, and the left system had not automatically picked up the electrical load as it was supposed to do.
“Refer to checklist.” She opened up the emergency section of the checklist strapped to her thigh and found the procedure for “Loss of right generator with no crossover.” She did the first step. “Attempt to reset the right generator by turning the red guarded switch off, then back on.” It was no help. She read the next note. “Warning: only attempt one generator reset or there is a risk of electrical fire.” She certainly didn’t need a fire on top of this situation.
“Okay, what have I lost with no right generator?” Casey verbalized her thoughts just like she’d been taught to do. She could see her system review flash cards in her mind.
“I have no attitude indicator steering bars. Not a big problem. No engine anti-ice, I don’t need it today. No pitch trim—crap, the plane is trimmed for three hundred knots and I can’t change it, so the stick will be heavy as I slow for the landing. I can handle that. No right tank fuel boost pump, so I can’t use the gas in the right tank. I have plenty of gas in the left tank, but I’ve lost the fuel cross-feed. That will make the right wing heavy and the jet will be hard to keep level. I can still manage that.” This situation would be complicated but not impossible. Then she remembered the big system that she’d lost—the flaps. “Oh, fuck. A no flap landing.” Things now just went from serious to a no-shit emergency.
Casey keyed her mike button. “Albuquerque Center, AWOL 45 Solo is declaring an emergency.”
Now she had to think about the last step: “Land as soon as conditions permit.”
“AWOL 45 Solo, state the nature of your emergency and what are your intentions?”
“Center, I’ve lost half my electrical system, I’d like one turn in holding so I can call the SOF, then I’d like vectors for a straight in approach to Willie.”
“Approved as requested, AWOL 45 Solo. Cleared off frequency to call the SOF. Report back when ready.”
Before Casey talked to the supervisor of flying, she needed to formulate a plan. She had two choices: she could eject from the plane, or make a no flap, full stop landing. If she ejected, she could get severely injured and she would lose the jet. No flap, full stop landings were prohibited because of the much higher touchdown speed, the excessive braking required to stop the plane, and the high probability of going off the end of the runway. She’d done exactly four practice no flap touch-and-go landings with Bulldog with a grade of Fair. She was in this jet alone, she was the pilot in command, and she had to make this decision. “I think I can land it.”
A no flap landing would double her landing distance. She had to add twenty knots to her approach and touchdown speeds due to no flaps. She had to make a straight in approach to the longest runway, three-zero center. She would need every inch of that ten-thousand-foot runway to get this jet stopped. If she didn’t stop on the runway, she w
ould hit the arresting cable at the end. That should stop the plane before she went off the end of the runway into the ditch, but it would damage the landing gear. If she missed the arresting cable and the plane went off the end of the runway into the ditch, she would end up in a ball of fire.
*****
Kathryn was in the control tower watching the traffic pattern when she heard Casey’s voice on the emergency frequency.
“SOF, this is AWOL 45 Solo emergency,” Casey said calmly.
Oh, no. What’s wrong?
“Go ahead, AWOL 45 Solo,” the SOF answered.
“I’ve lost my right generator, run my checklist, and I plan to make a straight in, no flap, full stop landing to the center runway, sir.” Crap, that’s serious.
“AWOL 45 Solo, continue holding. I’ll get back to you,” the SOF said.
Kathryn was fighting with all her might to control her emotions. When she first heard Casey’s voice on the emergency frequency, her heart almost stopped. She’d called Bulldog as soon as she heard Casey declare an emergency.
“Tell me the truth, Bulldog, can she land this jet, or should she eject? I’d rather have Casey alive and injured from an ejection than dead from a bad landing she can’t handle.”
Bulldog thought very carefully before he answered. “I say let her make the call. And yes, I believe she can do a no flap, full stop landing. She might take the arresting gear at the end of the runway, but she’ll get the plane on the ground.”
“Thanks, Bulldog. That’s all I need to know.” Kathryn hung up the phone.
She heard the squadron commander’s voice on the emergency frequency. “Flight safety, this is squadron ops, come up secure channel seven.”
“Safety’s on, sir.”
“Safety, this is the SOF, are you aware of the situation with this T-38 solo student?”
“Yes, sir, I am. I already talked to her IP, Major Pruitt. I know this student and I have flown with her. Major Pruitt and I are in agreement that she should try and land the jet. She can handle it.”
“Roger, Safety, I copy. Have crash fire rescue standing by at the end of runway three-zero center.”
“Roger, SOF, they’ll be ready. Flight safety out.” Kathryn ran down the stairs of the control tower as fast as she could. Casey would be landing her crippled jet in about ten minutes and she had to make sure the fire department was in position to extinguish any fire and to rescue Casey from the damaged jet. It was all Kathryn could do to not scream out loud with fear. She knew Casey was a good student pilot, but this emergency was about as serious as you could get, and it would be a very difficult landing even for an experienced instructor pilot. If any student could get this jet on the ground, Casey could. She was still scared to death for Casey. This won’t be like Marie’s crash. This won’t be like Marie’s crash. She kept repeating this to herself so she could keep her wits about her and do her job.
*****
“AWOL 45 Solo, this is the SOF. It’s your decision to do a no flap landing or to do a controlled bailout.”
“I want to land the jet, sir,” Casey answered.
“Okay, AWOL 45. Do you need any other help?”
“No, sir, I’ve already computed my approach and touchdown speeds.”
“Very good, AWOL 45. We’ll see you on the ground. Good luck. SOF out.”
Casey switched her radio back to Albuquerque Center and requested her descent into Willie. As she pulled the power back to idle to descend, she had to fight the airplane to keep the nose up because the trim was frozen. She could see Willie in the distance and tried to remember everything Bulldog had taught her about flying the no flap approach. “Use a slightly flatter approach angle. The power setting will be less than normal. Don’t let her float down the runway. Don’t touch the brakes until you’re below one hundred and twenty knots or the tires will blow.”
This was going to be a real handful. She forced herself to take several deep breaths to calm her nerves and to focus her mind. She wished Kathryn was in her backseat right now. “And what would she say to me?”
“She’d say, ‘Fly the jet, fly the jet, fly the jet. You can do this, Casey.’ All right, Captain Hardesty, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Hearing Kathryn’s voice in her head gave her a sense of calm as she descended into Willie. Phoenix Approach Control handed her off to the control tower ten miles from the field. She sensed a small vibration along her right side that she’d never felt before. This was the same side as the failed generator. Casey remembered a diagram from her flight manual. Each engine turned a gearbox that housed the electrical generator, oil pump, hydraulic pump, and the tachometer. If the failed generator was damaged and vibrating, it could also damage her right engine; then she would be in very deep shit. She needed to get this jet on the ground right now.
“Tower, AWOL 45 Solo emergency, I need vectors to final. I’m landing now.”
“Roger, understand full stop. Turn right heading two-seven-zero and cleared to land runway three-zero center.”
“AWOL 45 Solo emergency, cleared to land, runway three-zero center.”
Casey pulled the power back to slow to final approach speed, and the jet was becoming difficult to control. The stick felt very heavy in her hand and the nose kept dropping because the airplane trim was stuck when she was at three hundred knots. She put the landing gear down and lined up with the runway. Her approach speed was one hundred and seventy-five knots and she checked her green donut AOA indicator. She aimed the nose of the jet slightly short of the runway so she could land in the first one thousand feet of pavement. There were flashing red lights from the fire trucks at the end of the runway.
One hundred feet above the ground, Casey pulled the throttles to idle. She tried to pull the stick back to start her flare, but the stick was so heavy she had to pull on it with both hands. She surprised herself when she made a smooth touchdown and landed on brick one of the runway. She pulled the stick back to bring the nose up and aero brake to slow down, but the jet lifted off the runway again. Shit! She flew the plane back down to the runway, tried to aero brake again, but the plane kept flying off the ground because of her high speed. Fuck! The distance remaining markers on the side of the runway were flying past her as she hurtled down the runway—eight thousand, zing, seven thousand, zing, six, zing, five, zing. Her airspeed was still above one hundred and twenty knots. If she stepped on the wheel brakes, the tires would blow. I’m not going to get this thing stopped!
Four thousand feet remaining, still too fast for brakes. After what felt like an eternity, the airspeed finally came down below one twenty. She lightly tried the brakes. No skidding so far. Airspeed below one hundred knots, three thousand feet left. She stepped on the brakes as hard as she could. Her legs were shaking. Two thousand feet remaining.
The arresting cable was in front of her on the runway. She saw the high-speed taxiway at the end of the runway turning off to the left. Could I make the taxiway and not take the barrier? Maybe, just maybe. She pressed hard on the brakes with all her strength. Her jet looked like it might actually stop. Speed eighty knots. I’m going to try for the taxiway. She angled the plane toward the high-speed taxiway. “Oh my God, I’m going to make it,” Casey said out loud.
Just as she cleared the runway, there was a giant fire truck right in front of her in the middle of the taxiway. She was headed straight for it. Oh, shit! She had nowhere to go, and the fire truck was too slow to get out of her way. She pushed as hard as she could on the brakes and prayed she could stop before she rammed into the fire truck. She finally stopped with the pitot tube of the plane only a few feet from the fire truck. Casey knew the tires would burst into flames any second and she had to get out of this jet right now.
“AWOL 45 emergency has hot brakes.” She ripped open her lap belt and shoulder harness, yanked off her comm cord, her oxygen and G-suit hoses, and threw open the canopy. She stood up on the seat, gripped the left side of the cockpit rail, and flung herself over the side of the jet
. She let go and dropped the remaining five feet to the ground. As she landed hard on the concrete, she saw thick, white smoke pouring off both main wheels. They’re going to blow! She ran at full speed toward the giant fire truck. If I can get behind the fire truck, it will shield me and at least I won’t get killed when the tires explode.
As she rounded the back end of the fire truck in a full sprint, Casey saw the most beautiful sight on the face of the earth—the blue flight safety pickup truck. She had to stop to catch her breath, and she took off her helmet and oxygen mask. Kathryn drove the blue pickup over to Casey in a cloud of dust. She jumped out, took Casey’s parachute off of her, set it in the back of the truck, and led Casey to the pickup. She drove off the taxiway so the fire department could extinguish the tire fires on the aircraft.
Once at a safe distance, they both looked over to the plane and saw a dozen firefighters swarm over it wearing silver Kevlar fire suits spraying down the melting wheels with foam. It looked like the plane was going to be all right. Casey breathed a big sigh of relief. Only then did she turn to look at Kathryn.
Kathryn had a look of exhausted relief on her face as well, but she wasn’t looking at the jet—she was staring only at Casey.
Chapter Twenty-nine
“I have to take you back to the squadron to fill out your report,” Kathryn said quietly.
“Okay.” Now that she was safely on the ground, Casey started to catch her breath. Her heart was still pounding and she buzzed with adrenaline. She wanted to tell Kathryn to stop the truck. She wanted to reach over and hold on to Kathryn for dear life. Instead, she just sat there and tried to breathe.
Kathryn reached across the seat, took Casey’s hand in hers, and squeezed tightly. Casey looked back at Kathryn and held on to her hand. Just then, Casey’s legs started to shake uncontrollably. Was it muscle fatigue from holding the brake pedals so hard? No. Was it Kathryn holding her hand? She didn’t think so. Why was she shaking now that she was safe on the ground? Casey was frightened that she couldn’t stop this shaking.