Having spent five years on active duty in the Navy, there are so many memories that are worthy of mention in writing a column of interest.
Sometimes they are vivid in my mind, but for others, it takes something to trigger them and I record them so I remember them. Here is one story I recall every time a thunderstorm approaches from the west.
It was winter 1960 and we students in advanced jet training were well along in our matriculation toward those ever-loving Navy wings of gold. The day’s syllabus called for a solo flight for those in my class. So, a bunch of us launched one stormy day in southern Texas at the naval air station in Kingsville. Our destination, El Paso, was just an out-and-in mission.
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There were thunderstorms everywhere and, it being 1960, none of the F9F-8 Cougar jet fighters we were training in were equipped with any kind of radar. It was before the days of radar at air traffic control stations. That being the fact, we all were flying blind into some unsavory weather without knowing it.
Most of us who launched together had just gotten out of the area when we were all called back due to the severe weather. One student, Ronnie Bock, had a rather hair-raising experience even though he was only airborne for a short period. Ronnie unknowingly flew into a thunderstorm cell and was out of control for an extended period of time.
His jet climbed out of control for a few thousand feet. Suddenly, he found himself in the most awful lightning, thunder and hail. And then the climb discontinued and his airplane unhooked and came plummeting earthward.
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He made up his mind that at a certain altitude, he was going to eject because he had no control whatsoever over his jet. He was literally just a passenger during most of those very frightening moments. In fact, he told us later he had his hand on the ejection seat handle when his machine leveled out and he was again able to control it.
The old, faithful fighter was made by Grumman Iron Works, and it was still running and flyable, although Ronnie figured that extreme damage had been done by the hail.
He recalled that the noise of the hail was deafening and he couldn’t even hear his radio calls. So, with a severely damaged airplane, he limped back to our Kingsville base and landed without incident.
It is a mystery to this day how in the world the engine on this trustworthy Cougar kept running after flying into such horrific weather. The jet was a mess. The nose was battered to a pulp, and parts of it were even missing. The canopy didn’t shatter, but was all botched up from large hail. There were huge dents in the fuselage, the tail was all bent up and the wings had been warped from the excessive Gs while pulling out of the horrendous dive resulting from the forceful updrafts and downdrafts associated with the thunderstorm.
After careful inspection of his jet, it was decided that it was damaged too much and had to be struck from the fleet of student trainers.
We all wanted to touch Ronnie after he survived what was such a harrowing event in his young life. And we all figured he must be charmed in some way to have made it through such awful weather.
I’m sure Ronnie, to this day, has this hair-raising tale from his Navy training so long ago to tell all of his grandchildren.
Nuff said.Â
Gerald Krueger
Gerald Krueger lives in rural Aberdeen. He is a former pilot, farmer and teacher.