I Punched the SCAS Off Three Times
The unit I was in my second tour was a bit unusual. The unit had been a gun company, which would have only had gunships or Cobra helicopters and fly only gun missions or the missions shooting in support of US or South Vietnamese troops. By the time I had joined, the unit had been given scout and lift helicopters giving it the capability to fly a wide variety of missions. I liked the variety of missions because it gave me a chance to do about everything.
One of the missions that was close to my heart was when we flew in support of our own troops. Most of these missions came to us when things were bad and they were in desperate need of our help. We kept teams of two Cobra gunships on standby at all times to respond to these urgent needs missions. We would be called on the radio and and told to scramble and go a certain direction and then while we were en route we would be given more details on where to go and who to contact. We would be in the air in less than one minute.
We were standing by waiting one day when we got one of those scramble calls. The call came and we ran to our helicopters which were ready to go. We kept our helicopter “combat cocked” which meant that we had started them earlier in the day and performed all of the checks that needed to be completed before takeoff. We then would shut them down and reset everything so that all we had to do was untie the blade, turn the battery on and pull the start trigger. After the aircraft was started only the essentials were turned on before we made our takeoff. While en route we would turn on the rest of the equipment and contact the ground forces we were going out to support.
As I ran to my seat to start the aircraft my copilot untied the blade and moved it so I would know that it was untied. I jumped in the seat and without having my seatbelt or anything else on I turned the battery switch on and pulled the start trigger. In seconds we were “turning and burning” as we used to say when we had the aircraft running. The only radio that I needed to have on before takeoff was located on a console between my right knee and the canopy door. The “On-Off” switch is located to the extreme right of the console and is about two inches below the canopy door shuts. I did not have my gloves on yet but was continuing the rapid startup. I reached for the radio switch and turned it clockwise to turn it on. I had the habit of letting my little finger stick out like the elite do when drinking from a glass. I turned the switch with my little finger sticking out at the same time one of my friends slammed my canopy door shut to help me get going quickly. My finger was in the way when the canopy came down and was smashed when it closed. Actually it did not latch but it bounced off my finger. My friend slammed the canopy door again and this time latched it.
When the canopy door shut the second time my finger was not there! The pain was instant but I didn't have time to stop. I shoved the glove on the hand and continued the takeoff. When in the air we continued to turn on equipment and make contact with the troops we were en route to support. Most of the equipment was turned on but the ECU was not. The ECU stands for environmental control unit and is our air conditioner and heater depending on which we need. When enclosed in a glass covered canopy with dark consoles and equipment in a one hundred degree humid climate, air conditioning is important but it takes a great deal of power. We need all the power we have to use for speed to get to those in need as soon as possible!
After turning the equipment on I looked down and noticed blood running down the controls from my right hand running across the floor. Blood was coming from my little finger, through my glove and flowing from there. I turned the controls over to the copilot and told him to continue or course. I had not told anyone, even my copilot, that my finger was smashed. I pulled my glove off and could see that the finger was split open. I had always carried a band-aid or two in my wallet so I got them out and wrapped two tightly around my finger. I tried not to look too much at it because I didn't want to see how bad it might be. I took the controls back and continued the mission.
The little finger on the right hand has an important though rarely used role. There is button on the right hand control that releases the SCAS (Stability Control Augmentation System) if the system goes crazy. A Cobra has a rotor system that allows the helicopter to swing back and forth under the rotor system like a pendulum if not restrained. Because the Cobra was used as a weapons platform it needed to be steady and smooth so the SCAS system was put on the aircraft to dampen out any unwanted movement. The only problem was that sometimes the system would go crazy making unwanted inputs and try to turn the aircraft bottom side up. Most helicopters cannot fly bottom side up and the Cobra was one of those. So when the aircraft starts some unwanted rolling or pitching the pilot is to press the release button with the little finger of his right hand. That turns the SCAS off and the aircraft then begins to pendulum back and forth but can be flown. Three switches must then be moved with the left hand to turn the SCAS back in the on position.
By the time we arrived on station to support the ground troops my hand was shaking from the pain. Typically we carried fifty to seventy-six rockets on each aircraft and would make about five dives to shoot them depending upon the needs of the ground troops. I had called the ground troops while en route and I found out that the situation needed us to shoot quickly and then we could head for home. I called my wingman and told him that I would fire one pair of rockets and if the ground commander liked it, I was going to fire six more and then I was going to make two more runs and fire the balance of my load. I wanted my wingman to do the same.
I rolled in and fired the first pair. The ground commander liked where they hit and I fired the six more pair and broke left at the end of my dive. As I broke left my shaking hand pressed the SCAS release button and the aircraft started to swing back and forth. Without saying anything I reached down and re-engaged the three SCAS buttons with my left hand . Still I did not tell the copilot what had happened to my little finger. I made the next two dives firing the nineteen pairs of rockets I had remaining and each time on the break my little finger shaking with pain pressed the SCAS release button by mistake.
As we climbed to altitude for the flight home I told the copilot that he should take the controls and fly me home. I love to fly and have my hands on the controls and the copilot knew that so he asked what was up. At that point I told him what had happened to my finger and that I had punched SCAS off three times by mistake. He had not even realized that I had punched it off! He had thought I was making evasive maneuvers to keep from being hit by ground fire.
In time the finger healed pretty well. It was not the first time I had a bump or two in my life so I chose not to go to the medics or the flight surgeon. People around me were being shot and I was not about to go in crying because my finger had been shut in a door. Besides, someone else out there might need me.
Sometimes when I have told people about this experience they have asked me why I flew the mission rather than turn it over to someone else. We did have other crews and they could have flown the mission but there would have been a delay as I shut down and got someone else started up and it wasn't me. If you understand where I came from you would understand who I am and how I think.
I grew up in an era when there were great heroes The movies, television, comics, and sports were all filled with “good guys” that did what was right. There were a great deal of western (cowboy) movies and the good guys were modest, polite, gentle and always did what was right. They went out and “saved” people from whatever problems they were in. They walked tall and always did the right thing no matter the cost to themselves. I remember one of the major sports heroes from my era being interviewed years later and being asked about why he was so strict in his lifestyle. He said that he had to be careful to always do what was right because he had millions of kids looking up to him. That is how I was raised and every time I put my helmet on, strapped myself in the helicopter and headed out to rescue someone, I felt like those heroes of mine.
I believed then and I believe now in what is right. Sometimes we ask where the good guys are today and if they are all gone. They aren't in the movies, television, comics, or sports as much any more but they are still around. There never has been or will be any bigger heroes than the folks that do what is right every day of their lives. They go to work, pay bills, honestly pay their taxes and do everything else that is right. They get up when they are tired and press on! They are parents, teachers, janitors, factory workers, business owners, medical people, and everything else we see around us. It is they just aren't noticed. They even open doors for ladies and are polite and quietly do good everywhere they go. I still open the doors for ladies, especially my wife. She could open the door for herself and does when I am not around but I want to show her the respect she deserves. She is my hero! Without question ladies are the true heroes. They endure so much to bring us into this world, care for us when they are so tired they can't see straight and then love and encourage us for a lifetime. I want to thank the ladies in my life. Thank you ladies!!
One of the missions that was close to my heart was when we flew in support of our own troops. Most of these missions came to us when things were bad and they were in desperate need of our help. We kept teams of two Cobra gunships on standby at all times to respond to these urgent needs missions. We would be called on the radio and and told to scramble and go a certain direction and then while we were en route we would be given more details on where to go and who to contact. We would be in the air in less than one minute.
We were standing by waiting one day when we got one of those scramble calls. The call came and we ran to our helicopters which were ready to go. We kept our helicopter “combat cocked” which meant that we had started them earlier in the day and performed all of the checks that needed to be completed before takeoff. We then would shut them down and reset everything so that all we had to do was untie the blade, turn the battery on and pull the start trigger. After the aircraft was started only the essentials were turned on before we made our takeoff. While en route we would turn on the rest of the equipment and contact the ground forces we were going out to support.
As I ran to my seat to start the aircraft my copilot untied the blade and moved it so I would know that it was untied. I jumped in the seat and without having my seatbelt or anything else on I turned the battery switch on and pulled the start trigger. In seconds we were “turning and burning” as we used to say when we had the aircraft running. The only radio that I needed to have on before takeoff was located on a console between my right knee and the canopy door. The “On-Off” switch is located to the extreme right of the console and is about two inches below the canopy door shuts. I did not have my gloves on yet but was continuing the rapid startup. I reached for the radio switch and turned it clockwise to turn it on. I had the habit of letting my little finger stick out like the elite do when drinking from a glass. I turned the switch with my little finger sticking out at the same time one of my friends slammed my canopy door shut to help me get going quickly. My finger was in the way when the canopy came down and was smashed when it closed. Actually it did not latch but it bounced off my finger. My friend slammed the canopy door again and this time latched it.
When the canopy door shut the second time my finger was not there! The pain was instant but I didn't have time to stop. I shoved the glove on the hand and continued the takeoff. When in the air we continued to turn on equipment and make contact with the troops we were en route to support. Most of the equipment was turned on but the ECU was not. The ECU stands for environmental control unit and is our air conditioner and heater depending on which we need. When enclosed in a glass covered canopy with dark consoles and equipment in a one hundred degree humid climate, air conditioning is important but it takes a great deal of power. We need all the power we have to use for speed to get to those in need as soon as possible!
After turning the equipment on I looked down and noticed blood running down the controls from my right hand running across the floor. Blood was coming from my little finger, through my glove and flowing from there. I turned the controls over to the copilot and told him to continue or course. I had not told anyone, even my copilot, that my finger was smashed. I pulled my glove off and could see that the finger was split open. I had always carried a band-aid or two in my wallet so I got them out and wrapped two tightly around my finger. I tried not to look too much at it because I didn't want to see how bad it might be. I took the controls back and continued the mission.
The little finger on the right hand has an important though rarely used role. There is button on the right hand control that releases the SCAS (Stability Control Augmentation System) if the system goes crazy. A Cobra has a rotor system that allows the helicopter to swing back and forth under the rotor system like a pendulum if not restrained. Because the Cobra was used as a weapons platform it needed to be steady and smooth so the SCAS system was put on the aircraft to dampen out any unwanted movement. The only problem was that sometimes the system would go crazy making unwanted inputs and try to turn the aircraft bottom side up. Most helicopters cannot fly bottom side up and the Cobra was one of those. So when the aircraft starts some unwanted rolling or pitching the pilot is to press the release button with the little finger of his right hand. That turns the SCAS off and the aircraft then begins to pendulum back and forth but can be flown. Three switches must then be moved with the left hand to turn the SCAS back in the on position.
By the time we arrived on station to support the ground troops my hand was shaking from the pain. Typically we carried fifty to seventy-six rockets on each aircraft and would make about five dives to shoot them depending upon the needs of the ground troops. I had called the ground troops while en route and I found out that the situation needed us to shoot quickly and then we could head for home. I called my wingman and told him that I would fire one pair of rockets and if the ground commander liked it, I was going to fire six more and then I was going to make two more runs and fire the balance of my load. I wanted my wingman to do the same.
I rolled in and fired the first pair. The ground commander liked where they hit and I fired the six more pair and broke left at the end of my dive. As I broke left my shaking hand pressed the SCAS release button and the aircraft started to swing back and forth. Without saying anything I reached down and re-engaged the three SCAS buttons with my left hand . Still I did not tell the copilot what had happened to my little finger. I made the next two dives firing the nineteen pairs of rockets I had remaining and each time on the break my little finger shaking with pain pressed the SCAS release button by mistake.
As we climbed to altitude for the flight home I told the copilot that he should take the controls and fly me home. I love to fly and have my hands on the controls and the copilot knew that so he asked what was up. At that point I told him what had happened to my finger and that I had punched SCAS off three times by mistake. He had not even realized that I had punched it off! He had thought I was making evasive maneuvers to keep from being hit by ground fire.
In time the finger healed pretty well. It was not the first time I had a bump or two in my life so I chose not to go to the medics or the flight surgeon. People around me were being shot and I was not about to go in crying because my finger had been shut in a door. Besides, someone else out there might need me.
Sometimes when I have told people about this experience they have asked me why I flew the mission rather than turn it over to someone else. We did have other crews and they could have flown the mission but there would have been a delay as I shut down and got someone else started up and it wasn't me. If you understand where I came from you would understand who I am and how I think.
I grew up in an era when there were great heroes The movies, television, comics, and sports were all filled with “good guys” that did what was right. There were a great deal of western (cowboy) movies and the good guys were modest, polite, gentle and always did what was right. They went out and “saved” people from whatever problems they were in. They walked tall and always did the right thing no matter the cost to themselves. I remember one of the major sports heroes from my era being interviewed years later and being asked about why he was so strict in his lifestyle. He said that he had to be careful to always do what was right because he had millions of kids looking up to him. That is how I was raised and every time I put my helmet on, strapped myself in the helicopter and headed out to rescue someone, I felt like those heroes of mine.
I believed then and I believe now in what is right. Sometimes we ask where the good guys are today and if they are all gone. They aren't in the movies, television, comics, or sports as much any more but they are still around. There never has been or will be any bigger heroes than the folks that do what is right every day of their lives. They go to work, pay bills, honestly pay their taxes and do everything else that is right. They get up when they are tired and press on! They are parents, teachers, janitors, factory workers, business owners, medical people, and everything else we see around us. It is they just aren't noticed. They even open doors for ladies and are polite and quietly do good everywhere they go. I still open the doors for ladies, especially my wife. She could open the door for herself and does when I am not around but I want to show her the respect she deserves. She is my hero! Without question ladies are the true heroes. They endure so much to bring us into this world, care for us when they are so tired they can't see straight and then love and encourage us for a lifetime. I want to thank the ladies in my life. Thank you ladies!!
posted by Bruce | 1:22 PM
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