My boss flew E-2Cs and E-2Ds. He tells the story of the Kitty Hawk being north of Australia, he was the LSO when green water was coming over the bow. To put that in perspective, the deck height on the Hawk is 64’. Big fucking waves. Got everyone aboard safely, the admiral was “showing the boys off” to several RAN admirals. I know a retired hornet driver that got 40% disability due to irritable bowel syndrome trying to land on carrier decks for 15 years. It’s a young man’s game. But you can always tell when the Navy guys are driving the commercial bus an trying to land in a strong cross wind...
I just realized cLyDe's email on part 2 was a limited audience...
I know you’ve seen this rick but it’s worth watching again
Here's what I sent him back:
OK, back home after getting a cattle prod to the back of the head....
cLyDe's videos:
57
seconds in on Part 1... Yep, I was there. North Atlantic 1985. Mom
(CV66) was big but the Nimitz is another ~40K long tonnes in the water
so she heaves a lot less and a lot slower. Heady times, you knew you
were alive.
As I said
earlier, 0300 hours, raining, 20 foot seas in the North Sea. It was go
to Mom or wait for a War Hoover (S3) to launch and bring us enough gas
to divert to Scotland. We talked, let's go for trap. Somehow, I caught
a crested deck and greased the landing with a3 wire... OK... first
pass!! FALCON ONE ONE EIGHT!! (WETSU) or for the non-pilots "F'ing
amazing". When you hit the deck you go to full power. If you miss a
wire (bolter) you want that power to get back off the deck, not go in
the drink and get run over by the "boat". If you catch the wire, it's
going to stop you regardless of your power. Once you stop you look for
a yellow or green shirt and get a clear, then you pull the throttles
back and pick up your hook. Despite the OK trap, I was shaking, scared
shitless, we were dead stopped and I was still at full throttle... for
about 5 seconds (time stopped). Then my RIO keys the mic... once
more... then finally he whispers sing song "Cosmoooooo, pooowwwer". OH,
yeah, pull the throttles back. Through the rain, I see the Yellow
shirt waving his torches. He taxied us to a spot just ahead of the
Island and more busy bees strapped us down. My Chief (brown shirt),
popped the ladder and foot holes, climbed up and rapped on the canopy,
"lets go youngster, I'm getting wet out here". My heart had slowed down
to about 180, I crawled down the ladder and as soon as my brown boots
hit the deck, my knees went to mush. Someone picked me up (no clue) and
said something about sea legs... yeah, that's it... just need to get
my sea legs. LIE.
Can't believe those guys were eating popcorn...
Y’all Fn nuts.I’ve flown with former Blues and guys who have shot down MIGs but known of them talk about this crazy shit. Hats off to you are shit hot. Sent from my iPhone
I’m off to a Nerve Block, but I’ll check it later. Blow your timing and catch a rising deck and it’ll shove your tailbone to your teeth. Catch a falling deck and it’s a bolter. Catch a cresting deck and you’re riding glass. My best was 20 ft seas, 3 am, raining. Scared the begeezus outta me. Greased it! OMG
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Scars are Tattoos with better stories !
If you have no enemies, you have no character !
Clyde Romero
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