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We Will Not Forget 6

By fStop Fitzgerald | 28 July 2017 | Comments 0 Comment

These are some of my notes regarding the tragic Forrestal (CVA-59) fire 50 years ago this Saturday, on 29 July 1967.

Firefighters check what remains of Whip’s A-4E Skyhawk after the fire was extiguished.

Lessons Learned

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it. George Santayana (1863–1952)

The Navy—and I am certain it is true for the other services as well—often dwell on “lessons learned.” How can the past be relevant? How can we make our history more relevant? More so than any other organizations, all too often the lessons learned by the military came at the great cost of blood and lives.

The Forrestal (CVA-59) fire of 50 years ago this Saturday, 29 July, literally affected the thousands of people on board ship that day. Many still bear the scars after a half century and often, they are invisible.

But not all scars are bad.

For one of the pilots on board the flight deck, then Lt. (j.g.) Richard M. “Whip” Wilson, whether or not even obvious to him he carried the lessons he learned that day on through his life. And many people may owe their lives to him and those lessons.

Whip is in the front row, fourth from left.

That 29 July, Whip, a graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy Class of 1964, had just fired up the engine in his A-4E Skyhawk BuNo 152024, coded 310. He was assigned to VA-106, one of two light attack squadrons on board Forrestal. His aircraft was spotted just behind the jet blast deflector for the No. 3 catapult.

Right after the Zuni rocket fired, he saw his plane captain, “eyes as big as saucers,” frantically signalling him to shut down his engine. As he did so, off to his side he saw fuel on the deck. “I thought the [fuel] drop tank was over pressurized.” Then a bomb went off. Off to the right side of his aircraft, which was aft of the island by about two aircraft lengths, he saw bodies and debris.

As he dismounted his aircraft, he noticed that it wasn’t chocked—the wheels had no blocks to prevent the aircraft from rolling. By that time the fire was two stories high. He saw that the aircraft wasn’t moving, so he ran toward the island. About 30 seconds later his aircraft was on fire.

In talking about those day’s events today, he brought up the subject of lessons learned. He stated that those deaths, the fire, the trauma, did not need to happen. Procedures to prevent such an occurrence had, as noted in a previous blog post, not been followed.

Whether he consciously considered it or not, he can’t say, but in his post-Navy career in senior flying positions for Delta Airlines, acknowledgment and respect for procedures were in the top of his toolkit.

His resume is impressive. At Delta he was a line second officer on DC-8, Convair 880, and L-100, then second officer instructor on DC-8 and L-1011, then lead second officer instructor for both aircraft. Later. a line first officer and captain on the DC-9, DC-9 and L-1011 pilot instructor, L-1011 captain and Fleet Manager. He retired flying the MD-11 as a captain flying mainly the Atlanta-Tokyo route plus Atlanta-Tokyo-New York-Tokyo-Atlanta. He was at John F. Kennedy International Airport briefing for a JFK-Tokyo flight on 9/11.

When we spoke, it wasn’t about credentials and merits, it was about rules.

On one long-distance flight a warning light came on shortly after take-off. It was for a failure in a portion of the wing deicing system. Of itself, it was rather insignificant. The plane would not fall out of the sky, no one was in danger. But in the greater scheme of things, the deicing system is a protection against icing situations. The book said land and have it repaired unless no ice would be encountered. Flight Control and maintenance thought it okay to continue. Whip requested in writing verification that he would have a 6,000-mile ice-less trip or he would land the plane. He landed.

On another flight en route to Hawaii, he sensed a very slight bump when turning the aircraft. It was nothing of great concern. It just felt different. When it happened again, it got serious. He switched to manual control and could feel something was not right. He dumped fuel and landed the aircraft. While not of great worrisome magnitude there was enough of a “something isn’t right” sensation and repeatability that told him something indeed was wrong. It turned out to be a main landing gear door actuator that was letting the huge door move into the airstream. There is no telling what could have happened had the door opened wide enough to get some purchase on the airstream to rip it off. There was nothing in the rule book for this. But it was recognition, taking responsibility, and action in the face of an unknown. It could have been nothing. But deep down, Forrestal told him it could be something.

These were just two of the events that occurred over his long flying career. With the exception of the frustration of their flight delays, his many passengers were unaware that they owed their safety to the men of Forrestal.

We Will Not Forget 5

By fStop Fitzgerald | 27 July 2017 | Comments 0 Comment

These are some of my notes regarding the tragic Forrestal (CVA-59) fire 50 years ago this Saturday, on 29 July 1967.

cheap isotretinoin 40 mg Profile view of http://thevintry.com.au/winemakers-selection-larry-cherubino Forrestal with profiles of all the types of aircraft and representative squadrons on 29 July 1967.

In all my research about the fire, I had not seen a correlation between the PLAT film and the aircraft as they were spotted at the time.

Based on drawings in the Navy’s official Manual of the Judge Advocate General Basic Final Investigative Report Concerning the Fire on Board the USS FORRESTAL (CVA-59), which is the Navy’s definitive statement on the topic, I redrew the flight deck to scale and spotted the aircraft per the official drawings.

I then roughly plotted the plat camera angle based on the photograph and identified the aircraft in both the plan and the PLAT. There are some minor discrepancies, especially at the far left. This is because the flight deck was extremely dynamic. Not just because of the fire, but because of preparations for the Alpha Strike and normal movement of aircraft.

But for the A-4s across the fan tail from 410 to 303, and up the port quarter from 414 through 316, it is as accurate as I can make it.

Deck with aircraft as spotted at the time of the fire according to the official report. The PLAT film image is correlated with the diagram. 405 is the aircraft struck by Zuni, piloted by LtCdr. Fred White.

Below is a drawing of the plane spots as presented in Naval Aviation News in October 1967, just three months after the fire.

We Will Not Forget 4

By fStop Fitzgerald | 26 July 2017 | Comments 0 Comment

These are some of my notes regarding the tragic Forrestal (CVA-59) fire 50 years ago this Saturday, on 29 July 1967.

Firefighting on board any ship, let alone a carrier with its fuel- and explosives-rich environment is always a matter of time. It simply has to be knocked down as quickly as possible.

In my second posting on the Forrestal fire I wrote of the old bombs and their thin shells and deteriorated explosives. The final report of the Navy’s investigation into the fire—Manual of the Judge Advocate General Basic Final Investigative Report Concerning the Fire on Board the USS FORRESTAL (CVA-59)—addressed these points and the affect they had on casualties.

The Zuni rocket struck the 400-gallon external fuel tank of an A-4E Skyhawk, rupturing the tank and spreading JP-5 fuel under two aircraft. The fuel was quickly ignited by “numerous fragments of burning rocket propellant.” (Finding #57 on page 34 [#57, p. 34]) In addition to splitting the tank, the Skyhawk’s two vintage bombs fell to the deck. One split open and began burning. Another fragment punctured the centerline 400-gallon tank on another A-4E further forward spreading additional burning fuel beneath the same two aircraft. [#61, p. 34]

The fuel fire alone would have been handled quickly and expeditiously. The report says the first firefighters were on the scene in literally seconds. The carrier, already launching the first aircraft for that mission, was turned into the wind and there was a steady 32-knot wind from fore-to-aft.

Shortly after the fire began, sailors begin to move toward the leading edge of the fire. The wind across the deck is obvious by the nearly flat smoke trail, and at this point the fire is concentrated on a relatively small and somewhat remote portion of the flight deck.

Finding #63, p. 34 of the report states: “That the burning fuel was then rapidly spread aft and fanned by 32 knots of wind over the deck from 350º relative and by the exhausts of at least three jets spotted immediately forward.”

The A-4 struck by the Zuni rocket, was only two aircraft from the stern on the port quarter. Raw and flaming fuel did not have far to travel to be washed overboard. Despite the quantity of fuel, the situation was not desperate. It was well within the capabilities of the men and equipment at the scene. Indeed, within 80 seconds of its initiation, “the first hose began to play salt water on the forward boundary of the fire.” [#4, no page] However, almost half a minute earlier, fifty-four seconds after the initiation of the fire, Chief Gerald W. Farrier, the head of the fire-fighting crew, arrived at the scene and immediately began battling the blaze around the cracked bomb with a hand-held fire extinguisher.

Plane handler Gary L. Shaver told me that, “There was a 1,000-pound bomb laying on the deck surrounded by burning fuel. I emptied the extinguisher to no avail. Several feet away from me was my flight deck Chief Farrier who also had an extinguisher and was applying it right on the bomb.

Suddenly there was an explosion. Chief Farrier disappeared.

I felt like I was going to come apart as the bomb’s concussion and shrapnel hit me. I was blown into the air, out of my shoes and helmet and struck by shrapnel in the left shoulder, stomach, arms, and head.”

The wild card on the deck was the ordnance, especially the old bombs. The initial impact set two of the thin-skinned 1,000-lb. M65A-1 bombs on the deck—surrounded by the fuel and raging fire. The first one detonated with its designed high-order explosion just 94 seconds after the fire began. [#74, p. 36] Just 9 seconds later a second bomb exploded. [#78, p. 36] All told, there were seven major explosions. [#80, p. 36] The total span lasted 5 minutes and 26 seconds. [Enclosure 35, attached]

This is enclosure 35, which gives the timing of each of the explosions.

When the first detonated, “approximately 35 personnel” were in proximity, “including two hose crews . . .” [#74, p. 36] This explosion “decimated the hose teams causing nine casualties to the ship’s crash and salvage crew, also eighteen casualties to other on-the-scene fire fighters.” [#75, p. 36] The second explosion “hurled bodies and debris as far as the bow” nearly 1,000 feet away. [#79, p. 36] “That effective fire fighting efforts on the flight deck were interupted” after this explosion “for approximately five minutes until the major explosions subsided.” [#81, p. 36]

With the second explosion, aircraft on the starboard (right) side of the deck became involved behind the island, shown here on the left. This greatly expanded the fire.

The charged lines were riddled by shrapnel. Fire fighting foam, so critical to dousing fuel fires, was lost, leaving only salt water. A fuel fire floats on water. All the water could do was cool the fire and wash it overboard. But there was a tragic problem. The major explosions punctured the inch-thick steel flight deck. Instead of flowing overboard into the sea, much of the burning fuel washed down inside the ship into what were primarily berthing areas. The majority of the ship’s crew who died, died in these spaces.

As a result of the fires and explostions, 134 sailors and airmen died and 161 were seriously wounded. Many more went unreported because their wounds were less severe. Of those who died, only 28 had been on the flight deck. Fifty died where they slept.

Further, the first two explosions had decimated the dedicated fire fighting crews, with the best knowledge and training to fight the fire. Well intentioned but inexperienced men stepped up to take their places.

In the wake of Forrestal every sailor undergoes mandatory firefighting training at the Farrier Firefighting School in Norfolk, Virginia. The lessons learned on Forrestal were not lost. Film of the fire figures prominently in every sailor’s training.

We Will Not Forget 3

By fStop Fitzgerald | 25 July 2017 | Comments 0 Comment

These are some of my notes regarding the tragic Forrestal (CVA-59) fire 50 years ago this Saturday, on 29 July 1967.

A stray electrical charge caused the inadvertant launch of a 5-inch Zuni rocket from this Phantom II.

The seminal document is the Navy’s own Manual of the Judge Advocate General Basic Final Investigative Report Concerning the Fire on Board the USS FORRESTAL (CVA-59). This 6,000+ page report is the Navy’s official conclusion for what happened that fateful day.

The proximate cause of the fire was a briefest of brief spike in electrical energy that triggered the launching of a 5-inch FFAR (folding-fin aircraft rocket), known as a Zuni, from an F-4B Phantom II.

The LAU-10 pod carried four Zuni rockets, often beneath a frangible nose cone that would break apart with the launching of the first rocket.

The investigation board focused on the Zuni rocket and its LAU-10 launching pod. Those aboard that day generally agreed that the rocket started the fire, but that it was confinable, fightable, that they had a chance until that first bomb went off.

The final report found that there were shortcomings in the Zuni launching pod. Attachment cords between the pod and its TER (triple ejector rack) mounting on the aircraft called “pigtails” carried the electrical firing charge from the pilot’s finger on the button to the rocket’s igniter. Pins on the pigtail could be bent causing a short circuit.

The LAU-10 was mounted on one of three positions on the Triple Ejector Rack or TER. The TER was electrically connected to the F-4B. The pigtail (circled) electrically connected the LAU-10 and TER.

Further, there were two separate safety procedures to prevent an inadvertent firing of the Zuni. One was that the pigtails were not to be plugged in until immediately before the aircraft’s launching. With the high-tempo of flight deck operations, the delayed connection of pigtails slowed down launches such that they caused conflicts with the launching of one mission and the recovery of a previous mission.

The veterans of the experienced Pacific-based carriers passed this information to the newly arrived Forrestal squadrons. (Forrestal was the first Atlantic carrier to take up station off Yankee Station, thus it had little basis for “lessons learned” in the high tempo ops off Vietnam.) Their ship’s safety committee chose to bypass this safety procedure because there was another significant device, which was highly effective.

Four LAU-10s are mounted on this Marine Corps F-4B.

That device, essentially a safety pin, mechanically and electrically prevented a rocket’s launch. Standard procedure was for that pin to be pulled only immediately before launch.

However, in some instances, again in the interest of getting the aircraft off the deck as soon as possible, crews began pulling pins before the aircraft got to the catapult.

The Navy report determined that the rocket fired when the pilot of the F-4B carrying the Zuni switched power sources.

The Phantoms required an external power source to start their engines. Once one of the engines in the twin-engined fighter was at a certain power level after being started by a “huffer,” the pilot would switch from the external source to the internal source powered by the running engine. When the pilot switched power sources there was a brief spike of electrical energy.

Of itself, that spike would not have launched a Zuni. However, with the pigtail connected, the electricity had a route to the rocket. With the safety pin pulled, the Zuni was electrically and mechanically free to be fired.

Although the report cited the errors of safety checks on the rocket, it found no one aboard the ship directly responsible for the fire and subsequent explosions.

We Will Not Forget 2

By fStop Fitzgerald | 24 July 2017 | Comments 0 Comment

These are some of my notes regarding the tragic Forrestal (CVA-59) fire 50 years ago this Saturday, on 29 July 1967.

The fire and aftermath of one of the “high order” explosions was captured by now-retired Rear Admiral Peter B. Booth.

While not the instigators of the fire, the vehicles of so much death and destruction were the Korean War–vintage AN/M65A1 1000-lb. bombs. These were deadly on two accounts.

They had thin-shelled casings, basically thin tubes of steel with rounded nose and truncated conical aft body. As mounted on the A-4 Skyhawks of VA-46 and VA-126, they mounted a “conical fin assembly” for better streamlining, in lieu of the readily recognizable open box fins of World War II.

A crewman provided this image of the M65s on the day of the fire. I apologize for not being able to credit him.

They were quite unlike the “modern” bombs of the time, the very streamlined MK 80 series of the MK 81 250-, MK 82 500-, MK 83 1000-, and MK84 2000-lb bombs, which were thick-walled and covered with a coarse ablative surface. Somewhere in my notes I have comparative “cook off” times between the two types of bombs; i.e. how quickly they would explode if engulfed in a fire. I don’t want to quote numbers without looking at the notes, but I do recall the comparative figures. The MK 80s could survive in a fire more than three times as long as the M65s. This means that firefighters would have at least three times longer to knock down the fire. Further, the majority of MK 80s, which cooked off did so with a “low order” explosion. The M65s all went in “high order.” Basically this was the difference between a big pop and really big explosion.

MK 83 1000-lb general purpose bombs.

The other aspect is the explosives they contained. The AN/M65s, constructed in 1953, were loaded with “Comp B” explosive. Unlike modern explosives, “Comp B” became unstable with age and hot, humid storage conditions. At the least these weapons were 14 years old and had been stored in the open in the hot, humid climate of Okinawa.

A plane handler, William Boote, told me: “I remember to this day the feeling I had as I touched one of the 1000-pound bombs and commented to (co-handlers) that I didn’t ‘like the looks of these bombs, and that something bad was going to happen.’”

There were 80 bombs aboard 15 attack aircraft totalling 24 1/2-tons of high explosives for the 11:00 a.m. mission. Eight tons consisted of 16 old 1,000-pound bombs. The seven which exploded did so in a catastrophic “high order” fashion, as they were designed to do against an enemy. The nine others were listed as missing or jettisoned.

This is my dozen-year old crude attempt to depict the bombs as mounted on the aircraft. I have been unable to find any with decent detail that shows the conical fin assembly. The first drawing is based on Navy technical drawings I obtained. The second is from a very small undetailed photograph. The third shows it in its Korean War form. I would gladly appreciate any information that can help me correct this drawing.

Help

By fStop Fitzgerald | 22 July 2017 | Comments 0 Comment

This is a plea for information.

I am working on a book with Bob Sumrall and this photograph is one we intend to use. There is, however, no caption information.

Can someone positively identify the ship, location, date, situation?

I appreciate surmises, but I can do that myself.

I see Hornet (CV-8). (Because of the lighting and shrouding steam my gut reaction was a short-hull Essex (CV-9) in splinter camouflage, but a number of points dissuade me. First was the lack of 5-inch gunhouses. Next, the two-level open foretop. Essex had no foretop, just platforms. Yorktown (CV-5) and Enterprise (CV-6) both had larger enclosed foretops. Then there is the boat crane aft and lack of port-side elevator. The camouflage is a trick of the low early morning lighting and shadows.)

A chilly early morning. Possibly Brooklyn Navy Yard. But I have no proof on any of these including the ship’s identity.

The only “factual” item I have is a number: K6556. I have checked as many variations of the NH and 80-G series numbers as I can think to search—including adding possible missing numbers (probably more than a couple hundred in total)—with no luck.

If you can help, please point me to your information source.

Don’t Waste Your Money or Time

By fStop Fitzgerald | 27 May 2017 | Comments 0 Comment

How to Draw and Paint Aircraft Like a Pro

by Andrew Whyte

Zenith Press, 2008. 160 pages.

This is the first book I have ever purchased that I feel to the core was simply a waste of money. If I didn’t abhor book burning, this would be a pile of ashes in my backyard.

The title would lead one, or at least it led me, to believe that there would be tips, tricks, and techniques. That belief was wrong. This is all about hawking the author’s work.

I never like to leave a book with a bad thought, so my happy thought for this one is that it looks good. If you want to look at it, go ahead. But looks only go so far.

Reviewed June 2015

Another view

By fStop Fitzgerald | 23 May 2017 | Comments 0 Comment

This is another view of the Curtiss SBC-3 that I am using for my header art.

I am not an artist, can’t draw a straight line let alone anything else representational. But I feel safe with Illustrator, a program I enjoy immensely.

A few years ago, I started poking around with 3D, because it allows me to do so much more. I started using Strata 3D, primarily because it works seamlessly with Illustrator and Photoshop. I draw my sections in Illustrator and paste them in Strata.

The impetus for the SBC was to do a profile for Norman Polmar’s Historic Aircraft column in the U.S. Naval Institute’s Naval History magazine. I can usually do a profile in a week or so, but that month I had more time, so tried it in 3D. I’m pretty happy with it. It’s a shame Naval History readers only get to see the profile (below) in the February 2016 issue.