“No, you have the aircraft. Get your hood on and then take the controls.”
Cory reached behind his seat and pulled out a plastic hood from his flight bag. The hood snapped on to the front of the flight helmet. Once in place, it looked like the bill on a baseball cap, with the right side a bit deeper than the left side. This restricted the wearer’s view to inside the aircraft, with no outside visual reference. The pilot would have to fly the aircraft strictly from the instruments in front of him. Those instruments centered around the artificial horizon, which was a ball floating in a clear liquid. The ball was divided with light blue on the top half, replicating the sky, and dark blue on the bottom, representing the ground. Depending on the actual attitude of the aircraft, the ball would show the aircraft in relation to the horizon. If the aircraft was climbing, the top half would be more visible to the pilot, and the opposite if the aircraft was in a nose-low attitude or dive. If the aircraft banked left, both would appear equally, but both would be tipped in a left turn.
In addition to the artificial horizon, there was the vertical climb indicator, which showed if the aircraft was gaining or losing altitude and how fast. There was an altimeter that indicated the aircraft’s altitude above the ground. The radio magnetic compass indicator, RMI, showed the heading of the aircraft and would also give the pilot a clear indication if he was turning, supplementing the artificial horizon and the turn and bank indicator. The turn and bank indicator told the pilot if he was in a turn and how steep of one, supplementing both the RMI and the artificial horizon. All the instruments for flight supplemented and complemented the artificial horizon. But if the artificial horizon was broken, the aircraft could still be flown in weather if the pilot concentrated on the other instruments, something that was frequently practiced in a technique known as partial panel instrument flight.
Just getting back at it, Cory decided that he wanted full panel initially. Once he got the hood fastened, he let Sinkey know he was ready.
“You have the aircraft. The soccer field is clear in front of you. There are no obstructions over thirty feet starting at one hundred yards. Hector, O’Donnell, are we clear?”
“Clear right,” Hector said.
“Good on the left,” O’Donnell responded.
“You’re clear for takeoff, Cory.”
“Roger, on the go,” Cory said, and with that he came up on the collective to thirty pounds of torque and slight forward pressure on the cyclic. His eyes were scanning the instruments, and he was cautious not to fixate on one instrument. Immediately, he noted the vertical speed indicator showing a two-hundred-foot-per-minute rate of climb and the airspeed indicator passing through forty knots. The artificial horizon showed a ten-degree nose-low attitude. The UH-1H hovered at a five-degree nose-high attitude, so at a ten-degree nose-low attitude, Cory was satisfied that his airspeed would build at a comfortable rate, which the airspeed indicator indicated. Adding a bit more collective, he increased his torque to thirty-five pounds and saw a five-hundred-foot-per minute rate of climb and airspeed reaching eighty knots. That was exactly what he wanted. He held his collective and cyclic in their current positions, climbing to twenty-five hundred feet.
“What heading do you want me to take?” he asked Sinkey, who was enjoying the view.
“Take a one-eight-zero heading and hold at twenty-five hundred feet,” Sinkey said, playing the role of air traffic controller.
“Roger, one-eight-zero at twenty-five hundred,” Cory repeated, just as would be done with actual air traffic controllers. With those instructions, Cory commenced a slow standard right climbing turn to bring the aircraft to the desired heading and altitude. As he closed in on the heading, he began to come out of the turn prior to reaching one-eight-zero as he di
dn’t want to pass through the heading in a full turn and then have to come back to get on the heading. As he ended his turn, the radio magnetic indicator was showing one-eight-zero on the nose. Likewise, as he approached his assigned altitude, he began reducing the torque so he was level flight as he reached his assigned altitude. At this point, Cory was feeling pretty confident. Everything was as it should be. All was right with the world from where he was sitting. He was scanning his instruments and everything was matching up nicely. What could go wrong? he was thinking.
Continuing to scan the instruments, he was feeling good. Oops, slight left turn and climb on the artificial horizon. He started to correct, but it was not correcting. What the—? The other instruments weren’t supporting what the artificial horizon was showing. Cory was confused for a minute. Nothing is as it should be.
“Sinkey, you prick. You pulled the artificial horizon circuit breaker, didn’t you?” Cory was now trying to get back on his heading of one-eight-zero and his altitude of twenty-five hundred feet as well as maintain his eighty-knot airspeed without the artificial horizon.
“Yeah, you were having too much fun and needed a challenge. You don’t need the artificial horizon, and most of them don’t work in our aircraft anyway. Get used to it,” Sinkey chuckled.
Now Cory had to work a bit harder, using the RMI supplemented by the turn and bank indicator to show if he was turning and the vertical speed indicator to show if he was climbing or diving. It took a bit more effort and concentration, but it was a skill every pilot needed. Cory was thinking, Just as long as he doesn’t pull the circuit breaker for the RMI. The RMI gave the magnetic heading for the aircraft, as did the magnetic compass, which was mounted on the dashboard as well. However, the RMI was very stable and didn’t require the lead and lag calculations that were required if you used only the magnetic heading indicator. With the RMI, a pilot could make standard turns with a degree of confidence to roll out of the turn on the proper heading. With the magnetic compass, the pilot would have to be very good in instrument flight to accomplish a standard turn and roll out on the heading. That level of proficiency was generally lacking in Army helicopter pilots as they didn’t fly on instruments very often.
“Chicken-man One-Four, Lai Khe Control,” Sinkey said on the intercom, playing air traffic control out of Lai Khe.
Cory answered him back as if he was talking to Lai Khe Control.
“Roger, Chicken-man One-Four, you are cleared for GCA approach on Runway One-Eight. Say type aircraft.”
“Lai Khe GCA, Chicken-man One-Four is a UH-1.”
“Roger, Chicken-man One-Four, I have you on radar, five miles to the north, descend to and maintain one thousand feet. Altimeter setting is two niner point niner eight.”25
“Roger, Lai Khe GCA, out of twenty-five hundred for one thousand feet. Altimeter set at two niner point niner eight.”
Cory checked and the altimeter was set properly. Lowering the collective, he began a five-hundred-foot-per-minute rate of descent. Remembering that everything must be done with the written checklist now, he instructed Sinkey to get it out and start reading it off. Sinkey started reading and checking off each item while Cory concentrated on flying the aircraft.
“Lai Khe GCA, Chicken-man One-Four is one thousand feet.”
“Roger, Chicken-man One-Four. I have you at one thousand feet and three miles. This is your final controller. Do not acknowledge further instructions. If you lose communications, you will execute a missed approach, climbing to two thousand feet and holding over the Lai Khe Nondirectional Beacon at two thousand feet. Do you understand these instructions.”
“Roger, Lai Khe.”
“Chicken-man One-Four, you are on glide path, execute a three-hundred-foot rate of descent, on course. On glide path, drifting right of course.” Cory immediately corrected his heading to get back to the left by a degree. “Slightly below glide path.” Cory popped a touch of torque to hold his altitude until he heard the next words. “On course, on glide path.” Cory eased slight downward pressure on the collective to resume his descent. “On glide path, on course, over landing threshold, take over visual control.”
“Sinkey, you got it,” Cory immediately said.
“I have the aircraft. Take the hood off.” Cory didn’t need to be told. As soon as he felt Sinkey on the controls, the hood came off and he looked to see where he was at. Halfway down the runway and about fifty feet in the air.