On my first ship, DE-1027, I recall our LPO was an Anti-Submarine Air Controller (RD1 Melvin Waters). He'd talk to himself on watch..."Tallyho, purple boxcars...MAD, MAD, MAD. Got 'em. Stand by for flaming datum." He was controlling a P-2 while we were deployed with a HUK Group in the North Atlantic. He was fantasizing, of course, while having his P-2 patrol out ahead of the formation looking for a snorkeling submarine so he could drop Julie buoys (explosive echo ranging), sniff it out with an Exhaust Trail Indicator or the AN/ASQ-8 MAD gear (Magnetic Anomaly Detector), find it with Jezebel buoys or rig it if it was surfaced. Waters was amusing himself while ASAC-ing. ASAC-ing is mostly bread & butter boredom. He was fond of Pro-Words and a stickler for correct R/T procedures. I became an ASAC before my third deployment. It was fun working with the Airedales but I never had time to amuse myself. As a novice it was intense, hard work. I was 20. I learned a lot from Petty Officer Waters. He retired a Master Chief. I never got to control a P-2. It was SH-3's, S-2F's, an occasional P-3 and one EC-121.
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Rigging. Flying low. Fast forward to 1984. Our FFG was returning from a WestPac deployment and we were expecting a "surprise attack" from a USAF B-52 in a War-At-Sea exercise, in which we were the target. I was OOD on the bridge when the B-52 announced on 243.0 MHz that it was incoming from dead ahead and it intended to do a fly-by. I called the Captain. We hadn't seen it on radar yet. Then, there it was...incoming. Low. Very low. We got kind of bug-eyed. The Captain and I went to the starboard bridge wing and watched it fly down the starboard side. We could see the top of the B-52's wings. It was loud, we could smell the exhaust after it passed. It was awesome. We got rigged: "OHP Guided Missile Frigate, hull number 9, nothing special, just some bug-eyed sailors standing around with their mouths open."
BUFFs tried to do 'rigging' back in the 70s. I remember one picture of them below the flight deck of a carrier! Their problem was too fast, and not enough windows, in addition to blowing over sailboats...
During combat airlift missions and training missions, the first rule tossed was minimum altitude. The new minimum depended on the metallic quality of the pilot's cojones. During Red Flag training missions that put us down to 50 to 75 feet off the deck in a C141. But the Eurofighters in Typhon's went lower. At Red Flag outside Nellis AFB, the entire operational airspace is monitored so in the debriefs they would identify whenever they could see you. For the Typhons, one time the debriefer acknowledged that they had only painted them at one location. Those pilots admitted that was when they had to pop-up to 50 feet AGL to avoid some cows.
Great sea story. Or I should say, "air story". Brings back all those "almost died" memories.
Go Navy. FLY NAVY!!!
P.S... going aboard USS Cleveland (LCS-31) today while she's in port here. I'll do some dockside, as well as close aboard rigging.
On my first ship, DE-1027, I recall our LPO was an Anti-Submarine Air Controller (RD1 Melvin Waters). He'd talk to himself on watch..."Tallyho, purple boxcars...MAD, MAD, MAD. Got 'em. Stand by for flaming datum." He was controlling a P-2 while we were deployed with a HUK Group in the North Atlantic. He was fantasizing, of course, while having his P-2 patrol out ahead of the formation looking for a snorkeling submarine so he could drop Julie buoys (explosive echo ranging), sniff it out with an Exhaust Trail Indicator or the AN/ASQ-8 MAD gear (Magnetic Anomaly Detector), find it with Jezebel buoys or rig it if it was surfaced. Waters was amusing himself while ASAC-ing. ASAC-ing is mostly bread & butter boredom. He was fond of Pro-Words and a stickler for correct R/T procedures. I became an ASAC before my third deployment. It was fun working with the Airedales but I never had time to amuse myself. As a novice it was intense, hard work. I was 20. I learned a lot from Petty Officer Waters. He retired a Master Chief. I never got to control a P-2. It was SH-3's, S-2F's, an occasional P-3 and one EC-121.
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Rigging. Flying low. Fast forward to 1984. Our FFG was returning from a WestPac deployment and we were expecting a "surprise attack" from a USAF B-52 in a War-At-Sea exercise, in which we were the target. I was OOD on the bridge when the B-52 announced on 243.0 MHz that it was incoming from dead ahead and it intended to do a fly-by. I called the Captain. We hadn't seen it on radar yet. Then, there it was...incoming. Low. Very low. We got kind of bug-eyed. The Captain and I went to the starboard bridge wing and watched it fly down the starboard side. We could see the top of the B-52's wings. It was loud, we could smell the exhaust after it passed. It was awesome. We got rigged: "OHP Guided Missile Frigate, hull number 9, nothing special, just some bug-eyed sailors standing around with their mouths open."
BUFFs tried to do 'rigging' back in the 70s. I remember one picture of them below the flight deck of a carrier! Their problem was too fast, and not enough windows, in addition to blowing over sailboats...
https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSlAZ9vRIYoDkLqAvghwTJu1fHSgN0iYkihhc6ZcWtcTA&s=10
Balls of steel!
Feeling like a chicken because I got uptight coming into the Boston airport over the water.
During combat airlift missions and training missions, the first rule tossed was minimum altitude. The new minimum depended on the metallic quality of the pilot's cojones. During Red Flag training missions that put us down to 50 to 75 feet off the deck in a C141. But the Eurofighters in Typhon's went lower. At Red Flag outside Nellis AFB, the entire operational airspace is monitored so in the debriefs they would identify whenever they could see you. For the Typhons, one time the debriefer acknowledged that they had only painted them at one location. Those pilots admitted that was when they had to pop-up to 50 feet AGL to avoid some cows.
Reminds me of flying 'in the weeds,'
at 90 knots indicated air speed/90 deg (F) day
with the doors pinned back on our Victor Huey.
The Crew Chief on the Starboard side, myself on the Port
Backs against the Hell Hole bulkhead
and our legs on the step
Basking in the Oklahoma sunshine
(Yes, we had our Monkey Straps on, but why ruin a good vignette?)