| www.flickr.com |
« January 2008 | Main | March 2008 »
Heheh, I'm sure the press are going to be bit disappointed from here on when they learn that they get to ride on "Number 7". Of course probably not as ticked as Lt. Frank Weisser to learn this is his ride for the season!
Grabbed from here, anyone read Italian--- I think?
Today, The Tailhook Daily Briefing is fortunate enough to be able to present a "First Person" accounting of exactly what happened a couple of weeks ago when the crew of a VAQ-136 EA-6B was unexpectedly required to "Log Some Rocket Time!" off the cost of Guam.
We are privileged to receive this information from none other than the Gauntlets' CO, and pilot of this particular Prowler, CDR Joel "Henny" Jungemann.
I wanted to say thanks to everyone for their emails, prayers and support over the last few days, and especially for getting in touch with Susie to see how she was doing. It's been a pretty wild 72-hours and I am now back in Atsugi. The mishap board has convened and will be the final word on what happened, but since I've already given them my statement, I thought I'd give you a quick idea of what happened on February 12th. If you are part of or familiar with the Prowler community, this will sound all too familiar.
We were the second jet of a flight of two EA-6Bs scheduled to take off from Andersen AFB, Guam, shortly before 1600 to participate in a Large Force Exercise with the rest of our Air Wing. The weather was beautiful and the takeoff and initial climb-out was normal. Climbing through about 13,000 ft about 25 miles from the field, we heard a loud
bang from the left side of the aircraft. I looked out the left side of the jet and could see positive indications of an engine fire. I went through the emergency procedures and also let our lead aircraft know we were on fire. The right engine was still running and I was just about to begin a turn back towards the field when we experienced a second, much more violent explosion from the right side of the jet. The flight controls immediately stopped responding to my inputs and within a second or two the nose yawed to the right and then pitched up and departed controlled flight back to the left. It was pretty obvious that the jet was beyond hope at this point and I made the eject call 3 times to the other 3 crew members. My recollection is that the jet was inverted with about 150-degree angle of bank and 40-50 degree nose down when we pulled the handles.
We ejected through the canopies beginning with the left back seat, followed at .4 second intervals by the right back seat, front right seat and then my seat. My guess is that from the first indication of fire until we pulled the handles was no more than 10-15 seconds.
All 4 of us got good parachutes and we had about a 10-minute ride down to the water. We landed a couple hundred yards apart and spent about an hour in the water with our lead circling above us before two Navy helicopters from Guam picked us up and flew us to the Naval Hospital.
We spent the next 8 or 9 hours there getting X-rayed, CAT-scanned, poked, prodded, etc. I was pretty beat by the time we returned to the hotel lobby at about 0100, but in true Naval Aviation fashion, all the aircrew in our squadron were waiting for us with a couple cases of beer and, I have to admit, it tasted pretty darn good.
We were all pretty sore and the front right-seater had some back pains initially, but none of us suffered any serious injuries. I had my mask hanging from one side of my helmet and wasn't able to get it put back on before we ejected so I got some cuts on my face and a nice black eye.
The docs had me on crutches because of a chipped bone in my foot, but they figured out a few days later that it was from an injury 10 or 15 years ago. I hope to be flying again within 3 or 4 weeks depending on how long all the paperwork and board processes take.
The true heroes in this story are our parachute riggers and life-support technicians who
maintain our ejection seats and survival gear in impeccable condition. Everything worked as advertised when we needed it. The helicopter folks also got the helos into the air extremely quickly and the swimmers who came in the water and pulled us out were complete professionals.
I was amazed at how quickly the news traveled and humbled by the amount of emails and calls that Susie and I both received.
Thanks again for your thoughts and prayers.
Sincerely,
JoelCDR Joel "Henny" Jungemann
Commanding Officer
VAQ-136
The Intelligence group Stratfor seems to think so...
From Yahoo News India:
Gates likely to offer USS Kitty Hawk to India: Stratfor
Wed, Feb 27 01:25 PM
Washington, Feb 27 (ANI): US Defence [sic] Secretary Robert Gates, who is currently on a two-day visit to India, is likely to offer the aircraft carrier USS Kitty Hawk to New Delhi, the Texas-based private intelligence group Stratfor has said in a report.
Stratfor says that this rumour [sic] is persistent and widespread, though the Defence [sic] Department has strongly denied that it is likely to offer USS Kitty Hawk, to be delivered when it is retired from the fleet in 2012.
However, if the reports turn out to be true, such an offer would be an interesting and potentially effective US move, it added.
This would place the United States and Russia in competition with each other over India. In 2004, the Russia and India signed a deal under which New Delhi would acquire the Russian carrier Admiral Gorshkov for 1.5 billion dollars.
If the rumours [sic] about the US decision to offer the Kitty Hawk to India are true, the move clearly is designed to block the sale of the Gorshkov. An American and a Russian carrier in one fleet would create substantial problems for the Indians. [MORE...]
It certainly wouldn't be the first time the United States has sold surplus ships (including aircraft carries) to foreign countries, but it would be the largest acreage of steel ever offered.
Thoughts? Add to Comments Below...
(And yes the above image was modified! Before any one thinks to give the CO of Kitty Hawk any grief! -- Ed.)
NAVAL AVIATION LOSES A GIANT OF A PILOT
The news arrived via an email from my former Commanding Officer, J.R Hutcinson. CDR Decoy Marksbury, a veteran of numerous carrier deployments, 9000 hrs flight time, 900 carrier landings, and countless moment of hilarity, maturity, bravery, and limitless friendships --- had passed away. Dead of a heart attach at age 63 years young, following a weekend of skiing with his family in Reno, NV.
Decoy leaves behind a wonderful family - his wonderful (and immensely patient ) wife Lora, daughter Julie, a son CAPT Joh Marksbury USMC, currently based in Washington, DC. But more that that, he leaves behind a reputation of being one the best pilots, best officers, and best people that this Aviator had ever come to know.... Decoy was a giant in Naval Aviation...
More over at David Tussey's Blog "The Three Wire"...
We offer our prayers and warm thoughts to "Decoy's" family, friends and wingmen.
“Senator, there isn’t enough power in all of Christendom to make that airplane what we want” VADM Tom Connolly testifying before the Senate Armed Services Committee (1968)
In Part I we explored some of the politics (and politicking) behind the TFX – the program to provide the Air Force and Navy with a common next generation fighter. For the Air Force it was to be a long-range fighter-bomber with tree-top level supersonic dash capabilities. For Navy, it was the Fleet Air Defense mission, armed with long-range missiles. After several proposals were forwarded by Boeing and General Dynamics that fell short of Service requirements, a final selection was made in November 1962 in favor of GD despite the two Services preference for the Boeing proposal. For the next six years, the design, especially the Navy design, would be dogged by political bickering and infighting between Navy and OSD. But what was the aircraft itself like? Was it really that bad?
It was.
Continue reading "Flightdeck Friday: TFX & Turkeys - Pt II" »
Initial reports coming out of the DOD is that one of our Tycho Boats fired an Advanced SM-3 and hit "US 193"!
A network of land-, air-, sea- and spaced-based sensors confirms that the U.S. military intercepted a non-functioning National Reconnaissance Office satellite which was in its final orbits before entering the earth's atmosphere.
At approximately 10:26 p.m. EST today, a U.S. Navy AEGIS warship, the USS Lake Erie (CG-70), fired a single modified tactical Standard Missile-3 (SM-3) hitting the satellite approximately 247 kilometers (133 nautical miles) over the Pacific Ocean as it traveled in space at more than 17,000 mph. USS Decatur (DDG-73) and USS Russell (DDG-59) were also part of the task force.
Above photo is a File Photo of the USS Lake Erie firing an SM-3 taken in 2005 during a Missile Ex off of Kauai, Hawaii, reportedly close to where today's shoot down took place. (US NAVY PHOTO)
The objective was to rupture the fuel tank to dissipate the approximately 1,000 pounds (453 kg) of hydrazine, a hazardous fuel which could pose a danger to people on earth, before it entered into earth's atmosphere. Confirmation that the fuel tank has been fragmented should be available within 24 hours.
Due to the relatively low altitude of the satellite at the time of the engagement, debris will begin to re-enter the earth’s atmosphere immediately. Nearly all of the debris will burn up on reentry within 24-48 hours and the remaining debris should re-enter within 40 days.
DoD will conduct a press briefing at 7 a.m. EST to provide further information related to the operation. The briefing can be viewed live on www.Defenselink.com through the Pentagon Channel.
NAS Whiting Field, Pensacola, Florida 16 June 1966, 1611 hours CDT
Ensign David D. DeMeyer, USNR, survived this mid-air collision over NAS Whiting Field at Training Squadron Two (VT-2), on June 16, 1966, at 1611 hours.
Two T28C Trojan trainers collided approximately at 200’ altitude, at 140 - 150 mph, in the landing pattern over North Field. Ensign DeMeyer, of VT-2 was returning from a solo training flight and, having turned from the 180º position, was leveling his wings for his final approach set-up in Fairdale 229 for touchdown, when his aircraft was suddenly hit from below.
Fairdale 236, also from VT-2, should have been landing 100 yards to the left on the port parallel runway. Instead, the student pilot and instructor were attempting to land on the starboard runway where DeMeyer’s aircraft was landing. It was observed that Fairdale 236 must have realized their error, panicked and sharply pulled up into DeMeyer’s plane, taking off its nose, rolled inverted, and crashed on the ground below, exploding on contact. DeMeyer’s plane was pushed up forcing it into a snap roll, spinning it into the ground. Fairdale 229 did not explode on the ground like Fairdale 236.
Both pilots in 236 were killed. Ensign DeMeyer was in the NAS Pensacola Hospital recovering for over two years, before being medically retired as a LT(jg) in August 1968.
That was the official Summary of the Accident Report. The Tailhook Daily Briefing is fortunate enough to have the pilot of "Fairdale" 229, Lt.(jg) David DeMeyer tell his story, in his own words here today. It is a poignant reminder of how truly hazardous the business of Naval Aviation is, from the first day on the flight line at NAS Whiting to the "Night in the Barrel" at the back of a "Dutch Rolling" boat!
The following tale covers it all from the first hand experience of a highly confident Naval Aviator in Training involved in a life changing accident, all the way to the politics of CYA and the moral turpitude of a Senior Officer to call "BS" when "BS" needed to be called! We encourage more of these tales, as they are educational, entertaining, and most importantly Historical... If we never tell the tale, who whill know. Enjoy...
The Mid-Air Collision Story of David DeMeyer
Dear Fellow Naval Officers and Tailhook Members –
It is great to be alive. This is my story.
I have been asked many times over the years why I haven’t written down my recollection of the crash. Maybe my procrastination is due the frequent reminder that I have been so blessed by having an extra 40 years of life, and/or, the thought of the two pilots in the plane that hit me whose lives were snuffed out so quickly on that hot, humid Florida afternoon. I don’t recall ever being told their names, but I think of them often and the pain their families must have endured then and still do.
At the encouragement of my lifelong good friend, Bud Orr, who attained the rank of Captain, USN, with a very successful 30 year career in Naval Aviation in the Attack community. His career was highlighted by being CAG of Carrier Air Wing 14 during Desert Shield aboard the USS Constellation (CVA 64). It was at his encouragement that I am recounting my story.
Mid-Air Collision Story – June 16, 1966
Naval flight training in 1966 was a very exciting and busy time. The Navy was pushing hard to get as many pilots trained as possible as the Vietnam war was really heating up. In those days every flight student carrier qualified, even the Marines and Navy pilots that were destined to go into the helicopter pipeline, got the opportunity to “hit the boat,” in the T-2 Buckeye or the T-28 Trojan.
NAS Whiting Field was approximately 40 miles east of NAS Pensacola, and all the flight 
students that were in the prop pipe-line were sent there, before carrier qualifying. It was a very busy base with two airfields. I was attached to Training Squadron Two (VT 2) at North Field. VT 3 was at South Field. I suppose there were around 250-300 hundred flight students going through various phases of training at any one time at both fields. Training flights were launched daily from 0500 hours into the wee hours of the night.
The morning of June 16, 1966 started early for me, as I was on the flight schedule board for a P-8 check ride with a Marine Corps Captain at 0600 hours in the morning, followed by a P-9 solo in the afternoon. I recall “acing” the check ride as I worked through the endless testing of emergency procedures, and performing my aerobatics with precision. I was very upbeat with my success and anxious to go out solo in the afternoon by myself.
I flew over to Santa Rosa Island to fine tune my loops and barrel rolls as the island was over 25 miles long and set up East to West. It was my favorite place to practice. I could easily check out my plane’s set-up, attitude and line-up over this island to see if the plane was falling off on one wing or another while inverted while performing all the required aerobatics and spins.
The landing pattern at Whiting Field was fairly straight forward compared to enduring the complicated three tiered pattern at NAS Saufley Field during Primary training in the T-34. We were landing to the West that afternoon, so I entered the pattern at 1,500’ over the center of the dual runway below. As I broke right in Fairdale #229, I reduced my power, pulled the speed break, and lowered the gear.
Before getting to the 180º, the tower announced that a plane somewhere back in the pattern had called in with an unsafe gear indication, and that a check pilot was being sent up to verify it. Also the “daily thunderstorms” were approaching, so everyone who was already in the pattern was instructed to clear the runway as soon as they landed. In the Whiting Field pattern the planes landed on alternate sides of the double-wide runway. Looking down over the situation; that meant the plane (Fairdale #236) that was a good distance ahead of me on the down-wind leg would be landing on the port side, and I would alternate and follow on the starboard side.
At the 180º I pulled back my power further to reduce air speed and started a right turn descent to line up on the right side for landing. My coordination and concentration was right on target to “grease it in.” [My regular instructor and I would always make bets on who could get the most imaginary 3rd wire landings. I was thinking I would win a bet with this landing, if I only had someone in the back seat].
Then, “BAM! I experienced a sudden jolt and the plane’s nose pitched up violently. I thought, “Christ, something has hit me!” Then in a flash I saw the inverted canopy of another T-28 with two white helmets in it, as if doing a barrel roll over me. It was estimated that we hit at about 200’ and going around 140 -150 MPH. My next recollection was being snapped into a spin attitude and seeing the ground coming up. …I yelled out, “It’s been a good life, Dave.” There is no ejection seat in a T-28.
I knew I was dead. It was 1611 hours CDT.
The next thing I remember was two crash crew members in silver asbestos suites shouting, “Cut his straps! cut his straps!” (the parachute straps holding me into the seat).
I looked down and saw my right flight boot turned totally backwards. It was then that I screamed, “my legs, my back.” The crewmen said I basically ejected myself out of the cockpit in the shock at seeing my foot backward. As a result, I have horrible scares in my lower right leg from the sharp sheet metal that cut out huge sections of flesh, and muscle. There was no time to waste. The other aircraft had exploded upon impact. They were afraid my plane was next…It never did. It was determined that although both of my fuel tanks ruptured upon impact with the ground, the fuel did not get to the hot engine and explode.
I recall them laying me on the wing and saying, “he’s so broken up, he is like a jelly fish.” Every time they moved me, the pain would be so intense that I would pass out. I learned that day, that God must put in a little switch in a person’s body, that when the pain gets so bad it becomes intolerable, he’ll just put a person into an unconscious state to make it possible for one to continue on somehow. They moved me to a canvas stretcher laying me on my stomach in the hot and humid Florida sun. Lying there with heavy grass cutting at my face I recall seeing #236 aflame and burning a short distance away. It was difficult to see well, as I had so much blood running down into my eyes and face.
The two pilots in #236 were pulled from their burning aircraft, and flown via helicopter to the NAS Pensacola at Mainside, about a 40 mile trip. They both had 3rd degree burns over their entire body. One officer lived for around 90 minutes, while another lived for a day and half before passing.
Because I was so broken up, they decided to take me to NAS Mainside via an ambulance. They felt that I could not endure the vibration of a helicopter trip. Instead they took me over to the NAS Whiting Field Infirmary for some preliminary x-rays. That was a story in itself as they got my foot wedged into a 200 pound swinging hospital door in their rush to get me medical attention and nearly tore off what remained of my right foot off. God shut me down at this point and I was unconscious for a period after that. The doctors and nurses discovered numerous problems. My right femur was broken, as was my right tibia and fibula. I had entire pieces of leg mass and muscle missing from my lower leg; the right ankle was so mangled that it looked like spaghetti, my back was broken, as was my right arm. My faced was smashed in (I had 234 stitches in my face alone), but found out later, I was lucky to have it. My left knee saved my life. It seems the left knee was nearly severed in two from the impact of the 300 pound instrument panel flying out of the cockpit upon impact with the ground. But, by taking the brunt of the blow, it partially deflected the impact to my head. Otherwise, I would have been decapitated.
I awoke again inside the ambulance as we drove in the darkening evening along Hwy 98 to NAS Pensacola Hospital. I remember listening to the two Corpsmen in front arguing over how much to sound the siren. After an hour of that one gets a headache!!
The ambulance pulled into the hospital around 10 PM. All I remember was chaos. The day of our crash brought 3 extremely injured Navy pilots into the emergency rooms on the very evening that the CO of the Hospital, Capt. Sam Houston, was hosting his going-away party at his stately quarters adjacent to the hospital. The hospital in those days was located on a slight hill above the Mustin Beach Officers Club, shaded by the 300 year old Spanish Oak trees (The 
hospital in later years was converted and is now used as the headquarters for the Chief of Naval Training, a Vice Admiral). Capt. Houston was being re-assigned as the CO to the Naval Hospital at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. With the planned festivities, all the officers, surgeons and nurses were dressed in their finest Hawaiian garb. However, instead of having a nice time imbibing in drinks with umbrellas in them, they were feverishly trying to save 3 three lives. I recall looking up and seeing a LCDR Nurse picking nuts and bolts out of my left knee, while another doctor was attempting to sew my forehead back on - both dressed in the latest “Don Ho” shirts. Another team of surgeons were trying to save my lower right leg, ankle and foot.
It was at this point, they nearly lost me. I was awake enough to know that the entire hospital was abuzz with activity, and the emergency room next to mine had a lot of going on too. Suddenly, it went silent, and I heard someone shout out, “where do I get a ‘morg’ report?” It was with that news that I went into severe shock and they had to put electric shock paddles on me to get my heart going again and revive me.
The next thing I recall was coming awake sometime around 4 AM in my room with two doctors and two nurses drilling holes into my leg bones, installing pins and stirrups in them, stringing cords through a variety of pulleys and weights and attaching them all to a scaffolding system above my bed; plus, placing a cast over my right arm, and IV tubes and bandages on my left. I already had my “hockey goalie” mask on to cover my facial wounds. Everyone had been working under an adrenaline rush for over 12 hours – trying to save lives. By now, it was 5:30 AM and I was in a complete daze watching all that was going on. The four person medical team had a pizza delivered to the room, and only needed to place the 75 pounds of “Morris Scale” truck weights above my femur to pull the broken leg bone apart (that was Orthopedics in 1966). As they were preparing to finish their report and their pizza, the 75 pounds of weights came crashing down directly on my femur break. I learned later my scream was so loud that I awoke the entire hospital, putting them all in shock. They all had gone through a lot that night and everyone had been on “edge” from all the frantic activity - but my scream was the “topper”.
Dr. Harvey, LT, USN, Medical Corps, was a great Orthopedics specialist and was so good to me in my many months to follow, had a great response – “Oops, slip knot!” You had to have been there. We all cried with laughter, even me (once I came to)!
After that night, I would be either in the hospital or attached to the hospital for the next 26 months before being discharged from the Navy. Many memorable things happened to me during those many months. What follows are some highlights and low-lights of that experience:
The very next night was probably was the worse. The remaining alive pilot from FD #236 was in terrible pain in the room adjacent to me and his cries of pain still haunts me to this day. His room and mine were the only two that had direct oxygen hook-ups in the SOQ (Sick Officers Quarters). For the first 18 hours I had my room to myself. However, there was an emergency with a retired Army LTCOL who was brought into the ER and was dying of emphysema and needed to be placed into an oxygen tent. He arrived in my room about 11 PM and the staff had settled him in by around midnight. Not more that an hour later, he began thrashing violently from the lack of air. He threw off the oxygen mask and tent and climbed up the Venetian blinds. He then fell back from the window pulling down the blinds with him. His head hit my legs weights, the bed and then a dull thud when his head hit the hard linoleum floor below. …Dead.
It was a full moon that night, his open eyes peering through the blinds he was clutching. My weights were still swing above my legs. I couldn’t believe what I had just experienced! My arms, one being in a cast, while the other was all bandaged up to cover my wounds and hold my IV lines in place, were held captive with all the cables and ropes that were attached to the bed’s scaffolding as I tried frantically to hit the red “panic“ button to alert the nurses in desperation. It was an awful sight… It is still the eeriest night of my life.
But there were many positive and fun highlights too. I remember after lying in my bed for over six weeks, I was absolutely thrilled the day the Navy Corpsman volunteered to push my bed out into the visitor’s room area to watch the weekly movie being shown by the Red Cross. To me, it was as good as getting my first liberty pass after being at OCS in Newport for two months. The Red Cross volunteers were terrific people who also wrote many letters for me to my family and friends until my broken arm healed.
Also, I was very lucky to have many members of my squadron stop by and visit on a frequent basis. Prior to my crash, I was also fortunate to have met some really nice girls from Pensacola JC. Generally, their fathers would not let their daughters out of the house to be around “those flyboys”. However, I tricked them by going to the PJC library on Sunday evenings and had met some very cute young ladies prior to my crash. When they learned I was in the hospital, they convinced their parents that is was OK to go to a hospital and thus, were “allowed” to visit “that poor Ensign who survived the mid-air.”
Well, as soon as my squadron mates realized that DeMeyer had some “hot chicks” visiting him, the attendance really picked up. To my count, I believe two couples later got married as a result of meeting in my room. I always thought that was pretty neat.
A very dark day occurred, however, about 6 weeks after the crash when two JAG officers from the Navy Legal Department came to my room and informed me that due to the pending Crash Report, that I would be up for a court martial and a charge of manslaughter once I recovered. I was shocked at the news. I said, “I was in the right runway, the others guys were not and were in my space. How can this be?”…”Those are the charges, sir.”
Over the next three months I developed a bleeding ulcer over the constant worry of my fate. Unbeknownst to me, a lot was going on behind the scenes over the Crash Report during that period. It seems that RADM John Lynch, who was CNABATRA (Chief of Naval Basic Training), at the time of the crash, had the required final sign-off on the safety report. Well, not too long after the crash, RADM Lynch was promoted to Commander of the Third Fleet, based in Naples, Italy. I later learned that he sent the report back, unsigned, and supposedly stated, “You are not going to pin this crash on some poor flight student. You get me the facts on what REALLY happened and then I will sign it. I will not sign a ‘white wash’”.
After about three months had passed the same JAG officers return for another visit and informed me that all charges against me had been dropped. They explained that when the revised Safety Report was submitted, the true facts came out. The charges were as follow:
Over the years, I have heard from other Naval Aviators that are familiar with the crash that they heard FD #236 was a Pilot-Instructor and a student pilot, who was on an instrument hop with the student “under the bag”. I don’t know if this is true or not, as I clearly saw two white helmets doing a canopy roll over me after hitting me and there was not a bag to be seen from my quick view.
Those that actually saw the accident happened were interviewed and supposedly quoted as saying that FD #226, which was below and behind me was adding power to make the landing. [For those that were stationed at NAS Whiting, they might recall there was the Navy Golf Course to the NE end of the runway. Observers said we actually collided over the golf course and that the momentum carried us forward crashing onto the grassy area just short of the runway]. It is speculated that one of the pilots must have seen me (FD #229) above and panicked. Suddenly, it appeared as though one of them must have pulled back on the “stick”, as their plane pulled up sharply in a 45º angle of attack and rammed the front of my plane (the engine area). One can see from the official crash photos that the prop of my plane severed the empennage section (vertical and horizontal stabilizer) from the fuselage on #226.
After 4-5 months of “traction,” my hockey goalie mask came off and I had only few scares showing. The cast came off my arm, and my left knee wound healed. However, the hole created from the missing flesh and muscle in my leg had not closed-in yet (at one time one could see both the tibia and fibula bones exposed when the bandages were changed). Not a pretty sight. Also, I had no feeling in my right foot or ankle for a long period. Dr. Harvey and Dr. Sinclair would come in on their daily morning rounds and stick pins in my foot and ankle and ask, “Feel this?” For six months I would say, “No”. Fortunately, the feeling did eventually come back. It was then that the doctors later confided in me they thought they might not be able to save my foot and it might have to be amputated. Thank God, eventually my leg responded. Now, the main problem was to fix the broken femur just above the right knee. It was not mending.
Consequently, they decided to put me in a full “Spika” body cast, that went from my arm pits to my toes (with the exception of a “little trap door” (to take care of the body functions). Hopefully this would facilitate the femur to heal. This actually made my days so much better for me. Each morning after breakfast and being washed, shaved and freshened up for the day, the corpsmen would wheel in a gurney for me to roll over onto from my bed. It was like being a turtle, as they shortened two crutches for me so that I could push off and away and direct the gurney to wherever I wanted to go. It was so exciting to be able to leave the confines of my room after so many months surrounded by four walls. Each morning I looked forward to my daily adventures and travel around the hospital. It was great fun. Some days, I would be gone all day. My favorite place was the sun porch just outside the “geedunk” where I could visit with all of the other ambulatory patients and visitors. On occasion, I would need someone chase after the towel covering my “trap door” after a stiff breeze. I also had the best tan from my shoulders on up!
During my entire stay, I was fortunate to have some terrific room mates. I can’t say enough on how these great men helped me keep my morale and spirits up. LT Vel McDaniel, Capt. Ken McCoy, 2nd Lt. Don Dutton, Capt. Fred Craig (a Blue Angel), Ensign Dave Close, Capt. Larry Charbonneau, and LT John Cuttita, were some of the special guys that were with me.
After being in the body cast for over 4 months, the doctors decided to cut it off to see if the femur had healed. Boy, after all that time - the smell. Wow, you talk about “ripe”! When the entire cast was sawed in half and they opened it up like a clam shell, I just had to look and know things were not right. My right thigh had shrunk to a size so small that it was not larger that my wrist. And where the femur break was broken was a bulging knot, about the size of a tennis ball. I only had to look up and see the two doctor’s face of disappointment, and their eyes misting. I just laid there not making a sound, but had a steady stream of tears running quietly down my face. I was so devastated.
However, by the next day I had bounced back and suggested “I had a plan” to the doctors on their morning round. Now that is something. A broken-up Ensign had a plan for his orthopedic doctors. But I really did. Over the months of concern over the femur break, I had learned what the German’s did to downed Army Air Corps pilots during WW II. They experimented by installing stainless steel rods into their bones to promote a quicker recovery.
When sharing my plan they were not as enthusiastic as me. The reason they said was the high chance for a very dangerous staphylococcus infection taking this approach. I begged, stating that I had been in the hospital for nearly a year now, and I was willing to take the chance. They finally agreed, and not only put in a “kutchner itermedulary nail” down into my femur through my hip, but also did an extensive bone graph around the break with graphs from my ileum bone.
So what happens? Sure enough I get a major “staph” infection and had 105 degree temperature for over 8 days. The nurses and corpsmen kept me from going over the “edge” by constantly giving me alcohol baths in their attempt to keep the temperature down. It was awful to be so terribly sick but finally the high temperature broke. It was just like seeing one of those old cowboy characters in a western movie who is found delirious in the desert. He is given water and the fever breaks. Within a half hour I was back to 98.7. The doctors estimated I lost over 30 pounds in those 8 days. Heck of a diet!
Also I remember how attentive the Catholic Chaplin’s were to me. They visited me a couple of times a week, and once I was in my body cast, would arrange to have me wheeled to the hospital chapel for Sunday Mass. For Christmas Mass, Father Fallon (CDR USN) arranged for me to be taken via ambulance to the beautiful large Chapel on the base for services. It was truly special.
After the infection was cured, I started to make a good recovery. I went through many stages of physical therapy at the hospital and eventually was strong enough to be taken down to the Training Tank (home of the Dilbert Dunker) and swim when it was not in use. After awhile, the corpsmen would just wheel me up to the pool edge and dump me in and off I’d go. I loved it and in a very short time I was swimming strong and my leg muscles were coming back.
I don’t recall how it happened, but later on I was offered a half day job on the CNABATRA staff as Assistant Public Affairs Officer, working under CDR Jerry Novak, a terrific man and officer. My routine was to go to PT and swim in the morning, then go down to CNABATRA HQ building in the afternoon. It was located directly across the street from 
the USS Lexington (CV-16), the training carrier. By that time I had progressed from a wheel chair to crutches and could get around pretty good. It was a great experience, as I was involved in setting up tours for the Congressmen, VIP’s, and Navy League groups that wanted to view the Naval Flight Training program up close. Later, when I graduated to a walking cane, I was able to be the Escort Officer for the Naval Aviation Command Choir, when they took a tour or gave a weekend performance, e.g. Johnny Carson Show, Memorial Service for the Apollo Three Astronauts, etc. The choir was under the direction of LT Butch Engwell, USN, a RIO/Navigator in heavy attack and made up of 40 flight school students in various stages of their training. It was great fun. I helped arrange for the sleeping facilities, coordinate the buses, meals etc. on their trips. I also had the experience of accompanying the NAS Pensacola Goshawk’s Football team on their trip to play Mexico University in Mexico City. Very few people probably know that the Goshawks’ quarterback in those days was no other than Roger Staubach, a LT Supply Officer on the CNABATRA staff, who is now in the NFL Hall of Fame.
On August 1, 1968 I was medically retired as a LT(jg). If I would have waited another month, I could have been retired as a full LT. However, I had landed a job with Polaroid Corporation and did not want to miss the opportunity. Since that time I have maintained a fairly disciplined exercise routine. It has kept me out of a wheel chair, although I have had seven leg and ankle operations over the years since being retired.
Over the last 13 years, my legs, knees and ankle pain has increased a great deal. I have tried to stay mobile by working out religiously three times a week by doing a half hour of leg weights, followed by a half hour of a stationary bicycle, then finishing with a mile swim. This routine has helped me qualify for a total right and left knee replacement in the past two years. The result has been wonderful as I have been in constant pain for over 39 years, and the new knees have helped so much.
For many years I only went to Navy hospitals, but because of cutbacks and a lack of locations I switched my medical care to the Veteran Administration Hospitals. This has turned out to be a good decision, as I have been treated so well by the VA and they have been very professional fulfilling all my medical needs as my need for care has increased over the years.
Overall, I have really been blessed. I think daily of how lucky I was to live through this ordeal. Every June 16th, wherever I am, I stop and reflect on my good fortune and feel deeply saddened for the two pilots that were killed and think of their families and the pain they still must have at their loss. If possible, I will go to Mass on the 16th. In remembering that fateful day, I can’t help but get emotional and teary-eyed.
Here I have been given an extra 40 years of life, when I should have been dead too. I have been given a wonderful life with a terrific wife and four great boys who are now young men and graduated from college. I get overwhelmed with having that life, and yet, so saddened by the death of two men I never knew.
Often, when on one of my long swims, I think about and even fantasize about what my life might have been if the crash had never happened. I would like to think I would have been a career Naval Officer and Aviator. I absolutely loved the Navy, and all my experiences and friendships. However, who knows?
Maybe the mid-air collision saved my life? As most of you who went through flight training in the 60’s know, there were many who did not make it. Training accidents, car crashes in fast cars, pilots being shot down by missiles – either being killed or missing in action, even a “cold cat shot” has taken many. Two of my close flight school friends were killed in their duty of serving their country. 1st Lt. Lloyd Knudson, of Southern Cal, and LT. Jim Merrick, U. of Iowa, were two who I recall clearly and often. Maybe, I too would have “bought the farm” somewhere along the way and not be alive today. Who knows?
I do know I am a proud American who believes in God, Family, Flag and Country, and was very proud to serve as a Naval Officer. I still go down to Pensacola on a frequent basis to see a Blue Angels performance (I have attended over 30 shows all over the United States), visit the Naval Aviation Museum, and hit the Mustin Beach O Club, for Friday Night’s “Happy Hour.”
“Yes, you can go back”!... Seeing all of the young officers - guys and gals - who are now training to fly the latest Navy aircraft who show the same energy, professionalism and commitment we had when we were going though flight school 40 years ago, is a joy to see and experience.
This is the story of Ensign David DeMeyer’s mid-air collision on June 16, 1966 at NAS Whiting Field, near Pensacola, Florida.
Some background on David:
"Space-faring nations have an obligation to minimize the impact of their operations on the nations that lay below." - SJS
Curious about the reasons, practicality, and methods relating to the impending Missile Ex to shoot down "US 193" slated to take place in the not too distant future?
Rather than get your dose of common sense from CNN or the like (bad advice in most circumstances) I recommend you take a tour over to one of The Tailhook Daily Briefing's guest author's, Steeljaw Scribe's, website to get a good and quite knowledgeable assessment and analysis of what is what relating to our planned shoot ex!
Click the image below:
From Commander, U.S. Naval Forces Marianas Public Affairs
SANTA RITA, Guam (NNS) -- A Navy EA-6B Prowler assigned to Electronic Attack Squadron 136, part of Carrier Air Wing 5, was lost at sea during training Feb. 12 at approximately 4 p.m., 28 nautical miles off Andersen Air Force Base.
All of the four crew members ejected from the aircraft prior to the crash. They were transported by Helicopter Sea Combat Squadron 25 to U.S. Naval Hospital Guam for further assessment.
The cause of this incident is currently being investigated.
Photo courtesy Geoff Hays
I was back in San Diego this past week to brief the boss on the first year's performance of the Tailhook Daily Briefing... Which is pretty respectable by the way... and I had the opportunity to snap a few random photos while there.
I ask your assistance, my creativity seems to be expiring at the point of photo composition... I could use some captioning: any ideas on these three?
Picture 1:
Picture 2:
Picture 3:
Please provide your creative writing submissions by clicking "Comments" below and identifying which picture you're writing for. Enjoy!
Oh... And while we're on the subject of photos, the Tailhook Association is having a Photo Contest! Here's the gouge:
First Prize:
- Nikon D80 10.2mp Digital SLR Camera Body - USA
- Sigma 18-50mm and 55-200mm DC Zoom Lens Kit f/ Nikon AF - USA
Second Prize:
- Nikon CoolPix S700 12.1-Megapixel Digital Camera – Stainless (S700)
Official Contest Rules
- This contest is open to all members of the Tailhook Association.
- You may join at the time of submission if not already a member.
Photo Eligibility
To enter, you must be at least 18 years of age and a U.S. citizen or permanent legal resident. Tailhook Association employees and Board members, Officers and their immediate family members are not eligible. Immediate family includes only spouses, parents and children. All photos must be in color and taken within the last year. The photo subject must be relevant to US Navy and Marine Corps Aviation in action.
Photo Formats
Entries must be digital images. Black and white images are not eligible. Please read the specific guidelines for submitting digital images.
Photographer/Copyright
Entries must be submitted by the original photographer. Do not submit a photo taken by someone other than yourself. You must be the sole owner of the copyright of any image submitted. Your submission of the photo and entry form is your guarantee that you are the author and copyright holder of the photo.
Number of Entries
An individual may submit any number of images.
Photo Subject Restrictions
Photos must be appropriate for posting on a public website. Obscene, provocative or otherwise questionable content will not be considered. The Tailhook Association retains sole discretion as to what constitutes inappropriate content. Photos containing recognizable people will not be considered.
Ownership/Use Rights
Photographers retain the copyright to their photographs. By entering the contest, photographers agree to have their submitted photograph displayed on the Tailhook Association website or publications without any fee or other form of compensation. Photos will be credited to the photographer named in the entry form. Entries (including non-winning entries) may be selected for display or use in other Tailhook Association web pages or publications.
How to Enter
Digital photos must be submitted using the online entry form. Each entry must be accompanied by a completed contest entry form. If you are submitting multiple entries, be sure to indicate clearly which form belongs with each photo. Entries must be received by 15 August, 2008.
Judging
Entries will be judged on the basis of creativity, photographic quality. A Tailhook Association panel will judge the entries and all contest decisions are final. Entries that fail to comply with the Official Contest Rules will be disqualified. The panel will include professionals in graphic design, website design, website development, marketing and public relations.
Winners
Judges will select a first and second place winning photo. In addition, one or more honorable mention winners may be selected at the discretion of the judging panel. Winners will be notified approximately 2 weeks after the contest deadline by phone and email using the information on the entry form. Winning photographs, along with the photographer's name, email address (optional) and information about the photo, will be displayed on the Tailhook website. No financial compensation is provided to winners.
Submitting Digital Images
Digital images must be submitted using the online entry form at www.tailhook.net. Images should be formatted to 300dpi, no larger than 600 by 450 pixels and no smaller than 450 by 338 pixels. Images should be submitted in JPG (at high quality) or TIFF format. File sizes must be less than 500K per image. Images must be in natural color. Digital images will not be returned.
Image Modifications
Minor digital enhancement is permitted, but images that have been significantly modified or appear unnatural will be disqualified.
Not Permitted
- No borders or frames may be added to images.
- No watermarks, signatures, or copyright notices may be added to images. All winning images will be displayed with the photographer's name.
- Adding or replacing elements in an image is not permitted.
- Artistic filters are not permitted.
Permitted Modifications
- Images may be cropped and rotated as necessary as long as the rectangular format is maintained and the size is within the specifications above.
- Images may be re sized as long as the aspect ratio is maintained
- One-step enhancement (such as "AutoFix", "QuickFix", "Auto Levels", etc.)
- Use of filters to sharpen, soften, blur, despeckle, or remove noise.
- Use of corrective functions to improve the natural appearance of the image, such as levels, contrast, brightness, curves, intensity, tone, hue, saturation, lightness, value, color balance, and tint.
Additional Terms and Conditions
The Tailhook Association is not responsible for computer system, hardware, software, or program malfunctions or other errors, failures, or delayed computer transactions or network connections that are human or technical in nature. Furthermore, The Tailhook Association is not responsible for: (i) lost, misdirected, misplaced, illegible, unintelligible, incomplete, or late entries or (ii) any act, failure to act, or delay regarding the transmitting or processing of entries. The Tailhook Association reserves the right, in its sole discretion, to cancel or suspend all or any portion of this contest without notice if factors beyond The Tailhook Association's control, including technical difficulties, disrupt or corrupt the fair or secure administration or operation of the contest. Void where prohibited. The Tailhook Association is entitled to interpret these rules as needed and its decisions are final. The Tailhook Association reserves the right to disqualify any entrant that The Tailhook Association has reason to believe is not the original work of entrant, or does not otherwise meet the contest rules. If a winner is disqualified or determined to be ineligible, an alternate winner will be selected using the same judging process/criteria described above. Alternate winners are subject to all requirements set forth in these Official Rules.
By participating in the contest, you agree to release and hold harmless The Tailhook Association and its employees, officers, affiliates, agents, and advertising and promotional agencies from any and all damages, injuries, claims, causes of actions, or losses of any kind resulting from your participation in this contest, including infringement of intellectual property rights. The Tailhook Association and its employees, officers, affiliates, agents, and advertising and promotional agencies assume no responsibility or liability for any damages, injuries, claims, causes of actions, or losses of any kind arising in whole or in part from this contest.
That Nikon is a very cool camera! So I highly recommend you get snap'n! Also we'll probably some of the honorable mentions etc... here on TDB so keep you eyes peeled!
Now on with the creative writing...
-JC
Recent Comments