Chapter 7: Starfighters

The next two months passed in a blur. I was flying nearly every day, more often than not as Colonel Wilsons's wingman. It seemed he was either favorably impressed with my piloting competency, or he felt honor bound to find my weaknesses ... or both. For whatever his reasons, I felt honored. He was one of the most impressive pilots I'd ever flown with. It was easy to see why he was also one of the most highly decorated fighter pilots of the World War II and the Korean War era.

I had talked to Madge almost daily after she had returned to Boston. We had gotten together several times, a few times here in Springfield but usually I would make the drive into Boston to spend the night in her Beacon Hill apartment.

Shortly after our first meeting at Ann's place, I had found my own apartment, only a half mile from the base. This gave us a lot more privacy when we got together here in Springfield. It was great while it lasted.

Then one evening the subject got around to marriage. When she first broached the subject, it sounded like a great idea, but then reality set in. She had invested a great deal of time and money establishing her reputation in a career that required her to remain in a permanent location. I, on the other hand, was somewhat of a gypsy, subject to being moved anywhere in the world for extended periods of time with little or no previous notice. After many hours of intense discussion, we both reluctantly agreed that it would never work out, but as there was no urgency, we'd continue to ride this pony as long as it would run.

Well, that poor old pony pulled up lame about two months later when Madge called one evening and mentioned that she had met a young doctor in Waltham, who she was quite taken with. The poor old, now stumbling, pony was permanently put down two days later, when I was informed that our squadron would soon be flying to California to receive transition training into the F -104A before picking up our new birds later in August.

The plan was to fly our F-86L's to California, where they would be transferred to the North American Maintenance Depot for rehab, then to be either sold or reassigned to Air National Guard units. We would then travel the short distance to George AFB to receive pilot transition training in their new two-seat F-104B's. Once qualified in 104's we would then pick up our new aircraft from the Lockheed assembly plant and fly them back to Westover.

Two days later, we left Westover in flights of three or four to make the first of several hops to Southern California. It had been decided to split up into several smaller flights, rather than one large flight of twenty-six aircraft, in order to not overload the refueling facilities at the enroute bases. I was once again flying wingman for Colonel Wilson.

During the long boring flight, I had a lot of time to think. Perhaps too much time, as my mind wandered back over what I had heard and read about this new hot, but scary, little needle-like aircraft we would be flying. First, there was the ejection system it incorporated. It didn't launch the pilot upward as in conventional jet fighters. The designers had decided that the usual explosive charge wouldn't lift the pilot high enough or fast enough to avoid the tall tee-tail. So instead, they had opted for a downward ejection system, which would work nicely in most situations. However, if you had to punch out on takeoff, or while flying at extremely low altitude, the suggested procedure was to roll inverted and eject upward. That sounded good in theory, but in the real world, I thought a pilot's chance for survival in such a maneuver would be marginal at best.

One thing that was cool about the novel ejection system was that all F-104 pilots wore spurs on their boots, like old western gunfighters. These 'spurs' were short metal rods with a slotted ball on the end, which were strapped to the heels of the pilot's boots. After settling into the seat, the pilot would attach these spurs to thin, stainless-steel cables, which were long enough to allow freedom of movement for operating the rudder pedals under normal flying conditions. However, when the ejection sequence was initiated, the cables instantly retracted, pulling the pilots feet back into stirrups attached to the seat. A panel on the plane's belly under the pilot was then blown away, the control stick automatically disconnected and stowed in the foreword position, and an explosive charge blew the pilot and his seat downward, through the tunnel and clear of his stricken bird. Once clear of the aircraft, his lap and shoulder straps automatically released and two long straps that he was sitting on, known as 'butt snappers', reeled in, quickly separating him from the seat and opening his 'chute.

That sounded like a well thought-out sequence, but it seemed to me that it was so complex that far too many things could go wrong, resulting in the sudden demise of the pilot.

Note: Not too much later, a more powerful rocket-powered ejection system was developed and retrofitted, allowing upward emergency egress from the aircraft.

I had also heard of a case where, on an afterburner takeoff, unburned fuel had accumulated in the aft section of the engine compartment and exploded, blowing the aircraft's entire aft section off and killing the pilot. However, this had occurred early on, when XF-104s had been equipped with the J-65 engine, and as far as I know, the production J-79 engines had not displayed this tendency. This story made me feel grateful I hadn't been accepted to the Test Pilot School.

Our flight went smoothly and by evening we crossed over the Sierra Nevada Range and shortly thereafter entered the landing pattern at Palmdale, California. With the exception of one pilot, who had been delayed about a half hour with a minor maintenance problem in Oklahoma, all twenty-six of our aircraft had made the cross-country flight without incident.

Turning over our F-86L's to North American Aircraft personnel, we remained overnight in Palmdale. The next morning we boarded a chartered bus for the trip to George AFB, in Victorville, located about sixty miles east of LA on the edge of the Mohave Desert. It was there that we would undergo our pilot transition training into the Starfighter.

As we approached the main gate at George, I caught my first glimpse of Starfighters in flight. Four of their birds were on final approach and, as they one by one banked into their turns onto final, they were silhouetted against the clear, azure-blue, morning sky. The sight was breathtaking, as each in turn, flared out and touched down before popping their drag chutes. My God, they were beautiful; looking like tiny silver needles as the bright sunlight glinted off their highly polished skin. At the sight of these birds, all my reservations concerning the horror stories I'd read dissipated as quickly as the tiny puffs of smoke that had emanated from their tires as they touched down.

Continuing through the main gate, we soon pulled to a stop at the Training Operations building and climbed off the bus. Even before we'd had time to stretch our legs, we were met by a young captain in a flight suit, who herded into a small auditorium for our incoming briefing.

Once we were seated, the captain tapped his microphone a few times to gain our attention, and then started his prepared speech. "Welcome to George AFB. First of all, let me say we will not be teaching you how to fight your new aircraft. As this is an operational TAC base, we have neither the time nor knowledge to provide you with the skills to fight them in an air-to-air role. That training will be conducted later, either at Luke or Williams. This will be only a short course to introduce you to the F -104A and B aircraft's features and flight characteristics, as well as to certify that you have proven yourselves competent in flying these birds.

Lockheed Aircraft has provided two of their most highly skilled civilian test pilots, who were also members of the team involved in the development of this revolutionary aircraft. Once we finish here, you will be transported to the flight line where you will be divided into two groups and the company test pilots will conduct their own orientation briefing in a more personal setting.

After lunch, you will begin the process of getting your hands on the controls by flying the back seat of an F-104B. The flight characteristics of the A's and B's are nearly identical so you shouldn't have any problems transferring the skills and techniques you learn in the two-seat trainer to the actual single-seat fighter versions you will be picking up at the Assembly Plant. Any questions other you would like answered before we depart for the flight line?"

As no one had any questions, we were directed to the bus that was waiting to transport us to the flight line. As there were twenty-six of us pilots and only two Lockheed representatives, we were divided into two groups of thirteen each and directed to two of the F-104A's parked on the ramp. The factory reps then explained the features of interest.

The first thing they pointed out was the thin leading edge of the wings. They were currently covered with lengths of split rubber tubing, which looked like common garden hose to me. This, we were told, was for protection of ground personnel. The leading edges were as sharp as table knives. This was demonstrated by our assigned rep by removing the wing guard and pushing a piece of paper against the leading edge. The wing easily sliced through the paper.

Then he moved on to the wing tips. This bird had tip-tanks installed but he told us that, in the interceptor role, our birds would carry an AIM9 Sidewinder missile on each wing-tip. Unlike the folding-fin Mighty Mouse unguided missiles we had carried on our Sabers, the Sidewinder would lock-on to the heat emitted by the engine exhaust of the target, either jet or piston engine, and provide a distinctive loud growling tone in the pilot's headset once it was locked-on. The interceptor pilot would then fire the missile when he was within its range.

Moving on to the aft section, he pointed out the ventral fin located on the underside of the aircraft, which he said had been added late in the development stage to provide greater lateral stability. After about twenty minutes of pointing out things of interest, a maintenance stand was wheeled up to the side of the aircraft, allowing us to inspect the interior of the cockpit for the first time. Several more minutes were spent in a detailed question-and answer session before he glanced at his watch and announced it was time for lunch.

Returning to the flight line after lunch, we were dropped off at an area where seven of the F-104B models, the two-seat F-104 versions, were parked. We were informed that the remainder of the day would consist of flights with George's instructor pilots. During these flights, we would be allowed to get the feel of the controls, as well as practice a few take-offs and touch-and-go landings. This was the part I'd been waiting for!

By the end of the day I was sure I was able to safely fly the aircraft. That evening I ate dinner at the club with Colonel Wilson, Duke, and Captain Johansen, another of our squadron pilots. As we sat around, relaxing and sipping after-dinner beers, the Colonel asked how we were progressing. The Captain was a little hesitant with his reply but Duke and I both said it was a slick flying bird and that we couldn't wait to get our hands on the single-seat 'A' models. The first thing the next morning we got our chance.

As we were bused to the flight line, instead of stopping at the F-104B parking area, we continued on to an area closer to the runway where a squadron of the single seat 'A' models was parked. A Major in flight gear met the bus and informed us that we would spend the next three days checking out in the fighter versions. If everyone passed their check rides, we would leave to pick up our own aircraft at the assembly plant.

We were each assigned a chase pilot who would monitor our skills. I drew Captain Bob James; an older pilot who I later learned had flown combat missions in Korea with Colonel Wilson, to fly as my wingman. I climbed into the cockpit, and under the Captain's watchful eyes, fired up the engine. He then indicated that I was to wait for him to fire up his own bird.

After a moment, his engine came to life and he called George tower for take-off instructions. A moment after that, he came on the radio and told me to taxi out and that he would follow me. At the runway threshold, we had to hold while a flight of four TAC birds landed. Once they had cleared the runway, we were given permission to take-off. As I moved out onto the runway, Bob followed.

Checking the instruments for the final time, I advanced the throttle, and once I started my roll, slapped it into 'burner. I had thought the Dog had a powerful 'burner thrust, but it was nothing compared to the huge J79 in this light bird! I glanced in my mirror and saw Bob's aircraft keeping pace with me, just off my starboard side and about 200 feet back. As I quickly achieved flying speed, I heard Bob call out, "Rotate". Easing back on my stick, the aircraft leapt into the air. I sucked my gear up and climbed out at a fifty degree angle. Checking my mirror again, I saw that Bob was still in position, about fifty feet behind me and off-set by about twenty feet.