Thursday, April 2, 2020

Very seldom did you have a catapult failure.  If you had one, you were going into the water.  You might have enough power to make it a few thousand feet, but you just didn't have the power to climb out of it.  You were going down.  The carrier was going to run over you.  It was just a matter of when.

And when you hit the water, that was pretty much the end of it.  I remember Ken telling about one pilot who survived a failed catapult.  His plane sank into the water canopy up.  Which was unusual.  When you took a cat shot and it failed, the ship was going to go over you at that point one way or another.

This guy hit the water with wings level, and had the presence of mind and guts to watch the ship pass over him.  But had to wait an eternity for the ship to pass over him--praying the screws would miss him.  When they missed him, he was still canopy up, so he ejected.  It wouldn't have turned out very well if he ejected after he hit the water because he would have hit the bottom of the ship.  It wouldn't have turned out very well if he had rolled the plane in the water, or he would have ejected downwards.  I can't imagine that kind of bravery--sitting under water, slowly sinking and watching a carrier pass over your plane hoping the screws didn't chew you up.  Hoping you didn't roll.

Ken said the pilot told them that waiting for the ship to pass over was an eternity, wondering if you were going to roll over upside down before you could eject--underwater.  Wondering if you were going to hit the screws.  Waiting.

Most of those guys had horror stories.  The worst was landing at night in a storm.  Pitching and rolling deck.  Catching wire.  Trusting the LSO.  Hoping you didn't kill yourself.  I lived it second hand.  Hearing the stories.  Trying not to think about what Ken was doing to put bread on the table. 

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