FORCED LANDING

FORCED LANDING
By John Yauk

 
I honestly believe that my record as a commissioned military pilot would be pretty hard to beat. I became a Command Pilot with over 3,000 pilot flying hours piloting 16 different types of aircraft worldwide without one single mishap or causing 5 cents worth of damage to any aircraft I flew. No ground loops, no blown tires, no accidents, no parachute jumps, nothing! But I did have one forced landing as a cadet. Let me tell you about it.

The year was the latter part of 1942 while I was in Advanced Pilot Training at Lubbock, Texas. The airplane was an AT-9. It was an all-metal, twin engine, low wing advanced trainer with retractable gear and side by side seating for the pilot and co-pilot unlike the front and back seating planes which we flew in primary and basic training. This was really something for us cadets. The AT-9 was just like the commercial planes the big boys flew. It was the latest thing out for cadet training and it was considered to be a "Hot" airplane to fly. Its high wing loading (high ratio of weight to lift area) made it fly and land faster. Some cadets were not too fond of it but I liked it. One of its disadvantages was that it was a little bit under-powered and couldn't hold its altitude if you lost one engine. Another was that because of its high wing loading, its glide angle was much greater. In other words, if you lost both engines in flight you came down much faster.

Up to this point, all of my pilot training during Primary and Basic training was conducted practically within sight of the airfield. Today we would learn how to fly cross-country and apply our skills to reading navigational maps, recognizing landmarks such as rivers, towns, roads, and cities. Also, we would become aware of wind drift, compass and magnetic headings, time and distances, and how to perform the proper calculations to remain on course. It was a big deal for all of us and we were all excited about it. We were finally leaving the security of our nest and flying away!

Two cadets would fly in one plane and alternate pilot and co-pilot duties. We were to fly northeast for about 125 miles to, I think, Childress, Texas. Without landing, we would turn south and fly to Abilene, Texas and land there. After a short pause, we would all take off again and fly back home to Lubbock. A control plane with an instructor would be with us somewhere out of sight only for emergency purposes but not to assist us in our navigation.

Each plane with two cadets took off at timed intervals so that no one would "follow the leader" and not learn anything. In our plane the other cadet started as pilot and he taxied to the end of the runway and performed a routine engine check. The right engine checked out just perfect but the left engine was not quite up to par. It wasn't putting out the power it should.

"Think we should cancel out?" I asked.

"Nah", he replied. "Let's go".

"OK", I replied. "I'm with you. I think it'll be all right. It's not that bad".

So we took off and flew to Childress and then down to Abilene where we landed. The flight so far was uneventful but exciting.

From Abilene it was my turn now to be pilot so I taxied out for takeoff and performed my engine check. The left engine was still not up to par but I took off anyhow and leveled off at our designated altitude and proper heading to take us back to Lubbock. We both just sat back and relaxed now. It was a beautiful day and we both were very pleased and happy with the way things went. We were going home now. The left "bad" engine wasn't giving us any problems and we had it made.

I turned the controls over to the other cadet and I started filling out the necessary flight forms. He was so happy he started singing the old ditty, "Pop goes the weasel". And every time he came to "Pop" he would snap the control wheel foreword and back causing the plane to pitch quickly downward and back upwards.

"Oh, knock it off", I said.

"Like that, eh?" he grinned and kept on singing and popping.

On one of his "pops", the right engine suddenly quit! Not the bad left one. The good right one!

"What in the hell did you do now?' I asked.

"Nothing", he replied. "It just quit".

"Well, let's start it again", I said.

So we tried everything we could think of but the engine would not start. And we were gradually losing altitude and going down. I applied more power to the left engine but we were still losing altitude especially since the left engine was the bad one.

"At this sink rate we'll never make it back to Lubbock", I said. "We'll have to make a forced landing somewhere. Call the control plane and tell 'em we're going down".

As the other cadet talked to the control plane I started looking for a decent place to land. The terrain was all open country and awful looking with trees, hills and gullies and no signs of civilization anywhere. Oh Hell, I thought. We're in trouble. Maybe we should bail out. Suddenly, I saw it! A long rectangular, cultivated cotton field! It was the only flat spot within sight with long rows of cotton running north and south. What a relief!

"I'm gonna put her down on that cotton field" I said. "Tell the control plane".

The control plane replied that he had us in sight and proceeded to give us some instructions. "Tighten your seat belts and lower your seats all the way down", he said.

On final approach for landing I raised my seat back to the normal position because I couldn't see anything ahead. Also, contrary to established procedures, I lowered my landing gear because the field ahead looked very good and smooth. On rough terrain I would not have lowered them and would have "bellied her in" instead.

I kept power on the left engine and decided not to drop her down for a 3-point landing because the soft sandy loam soil might allow the wheels to dig in and cause the plane to flip over. Instead, I made a "wheel" landing where you are still flying when your wheels touch. That way you skim along lightly over the ground barely touching your wheels and gradually settle down gently as you decrease power. Also, I did not use any brakes. And it all worked beautifully! We rolled to a stop just like landing at Lubbock but here we were in the middle of a remote cotton field in the middle of nowhere.

The control plane reared by overhead and we reported that everything was fine. He said for us to wait for a staff car to come out and pick us up which it did after several hours just before dusk. Actually, we had no other choice but to wait. There wasn't a house or farm anywhere in sight or any signs of humanity.

While waiting for the staff car, I decided to see if I could find out what went wrong with our dead right engine. As an enlisted man, I used to be an airplane mechanic and knew airplanes. I removed a piece of the engine cowling so I could see the rear of the engine and told the other cadet to try and start it up. When he did, I could see a stream of gas shooting out of the carburetor and hollered for him to stop and replaced the cowling. It was obvious now what had happened. Some mechanic had failed to properly replace the inspection plug on the side of the carburetor during an inspection. So over a period of time and vibration the plug worked its way loose and fell off---about the time the other cadet "popped" the wheel. So the engine was getting absolutely no gas. It was all spraying out. Luckily, we had followed customary emergency procedures and had shut off all gas and electricity to the dead engine before landing thus reducing the risk of fire.

The next day at Lubbock, as all the cadets gathered at operations, we received a critique of yesterday's flight. I expected to hear glowing phrases for my excellent job of performing a forced landing without even a scratch on the plane. But I was highly disappointed when the officer said something like: "We had a very successful day yesterday and you all did a fine job. The only incident we had was a forced landing, which would have been perfectly executed except that the pilot failed to keep his gear up and make a belly landing."

At the time I was sort of teed off but later I realized that he was right. A pilot is supposed to take every measure and precaution to save his and his crewmember's lives and not the airplane.

But I still think that I did one hell of a fine job.