The date that shall go down in infamy was 14 Apr 1981. THAT was the date I (Capt Rodney “Pink” Panter) deep sixed BuNo 160250 after an engine failure. The engine failed during the climb passing ~15,000ft MSL after takeoff from runway 05 at Kadena AFB. And here is MY story:
It all began that day in VMA-331 Maintenance Control. While I was reading the maintenance history of the aircraft I noticed multiple write-ups for strange engine noise and vibrations. Whereupon I asked the MC Officer (CWO Wayne Paulson) in no uncertain terms what’s up (or WTF Over)? Wayne went on to say that several pilots had complained about the noises and vibrations, but maintenance could not identify any specific problem. BUT Wayne did go on to say that the (blade creep???) tolerances for acceptable limits had recently been relaxed by competent authorities??!! Soooo…I asked Wayne (several times) is the A/C up or down, and he said it was up to me whether I wanted to take it or not? When I pressed him for an Up or DOWN answer…..His final answer was UP. And being the MAN that I was, as well as a WELL SEASONED Marine Aviator, I therefore decided to SEE FOR MYSELF what’s up!?
Capt. Bob Conser (Cosnuts…aka Cos) was the Section Leader that day ( I believe he is now a Fed Ex pilot). He lead our flight of 2 A-4Ms from MCAS Iwakuni Japan down to one of the ranges off the east coast of Okinawa for some LATT work combined with low level bombing. All went well on that first sortie with no unusual noises or vibrations, which Cos continually checked as the good section leader he was but Ad Nausea to me!
We landed for fuel and lunch at Kadena AFB in Okinawa. Cos hand lunch (or funch?) with his fiancée/girlfriend (Leslie Williams???), and I headed off to the exchange for some wonderful hotdog fair or the like. Cos and I met up (at base operations?), where he asked me if I minded if he stayed behind to visit with his girlfriend. I said I did not mind at all, but we needed to get approval to conduct single aircraft operations from Kadena (Okinawa) back to Iwakuni (Japan). Cos called, got the approval, and he was on his way.
I headed off on my own (in a BIG hurry) to get back to Iwakuni. I remember my preflight was thorough, but fast. Soon I was airborne, having taken off from runway 05 at Kadena. Shortly after takeoff, passing through about 15,000 ft., came a loud explosive bang….as if sledge hammers had hit the inside of the intakes!! I then pulled the RAT for power.
I immediately declared an “engine failure” emergency with the Kadena controller, who then asked me to descend and maintain something and whereupon I told him I could descend but I could not maintain anything since I had ONLY ONE ENGINE. The controller’s voice then when up at least one octave (I later learned this was the first emergency for this rather new controller…, and I still have the taped conversation!). I then started a turn back to Kadena, with the intention of landing on runway 23. By the time I completed the turn back to Kadena I was approximately 25 miles from the runway and still near 15,000 ft. Just enough altitude I thought to be able to glide back to the runway for an emergency landing. The engine instruments showed a low RPM with a high EGT, but within limits. Never the less, with no visible smoke in sight, I tried to restart the engine several times while on my way back to Kadena, and still rapidly descending.
I was paralleling the coastline on my right on my way back to runway 23, and considering my options. It was becoming apparent that I was NOT going to have enough speed and altitude to make a safe emergency landing at Kadena. Knowing that 200kts and 2,000 ft AGL was somewhere near the heart of the ejection envelope, I decided to start my turn to the right (90 degrees to the coastline) to DEEP SIX the A/C in the water to avoid injuries to anyone on the island. I informed Kadena of my intentions and they said they had me on RADAR. Shortly thereafter, I turned the A/C ~ 90 degrees to take the A/C out to water and began to arrest my rate of descent, shooting for 200kts, 2,000 ft AGL and zero rate of descent before ejecting. About that time Kadena asked for a TACAN cut just to confirm my position, and at that point I was less than 10 miles from Kadena. They said the rescue helicopter was on its’ way.
The ejection went as planned, though the rate of deceleration was a bit faster than I had anticipated. It seemed as though my body had rotated forward just prior to chute opening, and when it opened….WHAM…my feet flew in front of me as I was rolled backward by the chute. When I looked up to confirm a good chute, I unexpectedly dropped the upper handle, which I had used during the ejection. Using the upper handle meant I could not “witness” my own ejection, but I decided that was the route for the fewest injuries (I had none except for my slightly bruised groin from the harnesses RAPID tightening during parachute opening process).
As I turns out, there WAS someone on the ground who DID witness the evolution as I crossed the beach and ejected. Apparently, there was an Air Force (name/rank unknown) gentleman who was somewhat of a military aircraft aficionado, and he had never seen an A-4M with “afterburners”! According to this gentleman, who provided his information to the accident investigation team lead by Major Randy (Tattoo) Justice, the aircraft had flames greater than the length of the aircraft coming from the tailpipe?!! He had taken pictures of the beach crossing and provided them to Tattoo. Unfortunately, I failed to get a copy of the photos.
Well, by now I was on my way down to the water, so I actuated the handle on the right side of the seat pan to release the life raft. It worked just FINE, and I observed the fully inflated life raft below. When it touched the water, I prepared for water entry just a few seconds later. Once in the water, I pulled myself to the raft, attached the safety strap (to prevent the raft from floating away should I lose my grip of it) and took off my harness before entering the raft.
Once safely in my watertight raft, and feeling somewhat proud of myself for getting it all done just as they taught me in Water Survival, I pulled out my PRC (aka Prick) and began “trying” to signal the rescue helicopter (or Copter)….which I knew was headed my way, at least according to the new Kadena controller. And after a short while, a copter DID arrive on the scene. I “tried” to communicate with him, but as it turns out I was using the wrong button on the Damn Prick (So much for MY survival preparation of which I was Sooo proud of myself!). And much to my surprise, after circling at around 5,000 ft for just a few minutes, he took off down the coast leaving me behind!! The STORY IS, he had a full load of Chaplains and could not take on another soul, but THEY were all praying for the one they left behind! It also turns out, he was in communication with THE rescue copter that had been given the wrong coordinates by the new controller.
The real rescue copter (the Air Force version of a CH53??) arrived several minutes (15 -20?) later, for which I popped my smoke for him to get a visual on me and so he would know the direction of the wind for his approach (once again exhibiting my water survival skills!). He approached like a mobile hurricane, blowing the hell out of the water and me, and dropped a rescue swimmer who immediately swam to my side. The rescue swimmer asked me if I was OK, and I was, and then he asked me to get out of my raft to initiate the recovery. I of course said HELL NO….there are Great White Sharks in these waters (a fact that was verified by Cos later that day!). The rescue swimmer then informed me that they could not affect the recovery if I did not leave the raft behind, since it could be ingested by the copter’s blades. This of course made perfect sense to me (the Intrepid Naval Aviator but clearly the trepid swimmer shark enthusiast).
So…I left the relative safety of my raft behind, with the rescue swimmer leading the way. Once we were clear of the raft and the copter could approach without risking ingesting my raft, he came and dropped his jungle penetrator. Not knowing where the palm trees were, I asked the rescue swimmer “why the penetrator”, and, if I recall correctly, he said that was all they had that day. So we both CROWDED on to that penetrator for our ride up to the copter. On our way up we began to swing from side-to-side, a motion that became more frequent and prominent as the length of the cable shortened. It became clear to me that we were going to hit the bottom of the copter if we did not slow or stop our rate of ascent (something the rescue swimmer did not mind or was unaware of!) so I gave the cut signal, waving my hand with fingers extended across my throat, to the winch operator. He stopped the retraction and allowed the pendulum motion to subside, and then continued to haul us up and in to the copter.
Once inside, I began to remove my harness, but I was stopped by the other crewman (apparently THAT was their job…for my safety). I was then instructed to take a seat on one of the benches along the side. One of the other crewmen then stood up in front of me and began to attempt to remove my harness (the tactical jet harness with the parachute harness and emergency survival vest combined). He clearly was unfamiliar with this type of “combined” vest and after several unsuccessful attempts to remove it he took out a large survival knife and began to “try” to cut the central strap across the chest (and below my neck). Using his knife in this fashion to cut my very tough harness just seemed a bit too risky for me, with his knife ready to cut my throat should he slip. So I decided to take things into my own hands. At that point I stood up, took his knife hand and forcefully removed it from my presence, giving him the visual signal (we could not talk) to Back Off. He did back off, quite surprised by my response, and I then removed my harness by releasing the material from the central buckle, still uncut.
Soon we arrived at the hospital, where I had the opportunity to endure all manner of indiscretions, including having my bruised and naked groin photographed for posterity in the presence of many PRETTY nurses, which I normally would not have minded (I told the photographer I would sue if I found the pictures in Playboy….a “not so” fat chance!)! About that time Cos arrived, and I demanded a Rum and Coke. It seems I was concerned the blood alcohol test might not prove to be in my favor, since I had been up late the night before with Mike “Cherokee” Colliers. The name says it all, and the blood test was negative for I had metabolized all of the evidence of my possible intrusion on the military’s 12 hour limit long before. In any case…Cos could not provide the necessary solution and nerve calming R&C, which would have to wait for at least another 24 hours.
After all of the X-Raying, prodding and photographing, I was FINALLY shown to my abode for the night. A bed in the middle of an open hospital ward, with the guy across from me wearing a “halo” to protect his broken neck…which he achieved by blindly diving into a local swimming hole with a BIG rock hidden just below the surface (and most certainly after visiting his local watering hole). So there I was at approximately 2100 and STILL in my salt water infused flight suit in a room full of moaning “guests” and NO DINNER as of yet…and NO R&C!
When the nurse on the ward discovered I had not eaten since my visit to the exchange at noon that day, and after my exhilarating rocket ride, she went down to the galley and brought back a cold ham and cheese sandwich for me and a carton of MILK. No matter, it tasted GREAT. But that still did not stop me from complaining when she attached the heart monitor to me, which prevented me from rolling over on my side like I love to do when I sleep. So I decided to have some fun with her, since I could not sleep, and disconnected the monitor causing it to alarm her in her “window” view office at the end of the ward. She was NOT amused, and I discontinued my naughty behavior to preclude another assault. And that might have been why she so diligently performed her duties throughout the night, which included taking my vital signs…..every hour on the hour! It was NOT a good night.
When the sun came up the next day, I was READY to leave, but much to my dismay the Air Force Flight Surgeon would NOT authorize my release. He said he wanted to keep me for another 24 hours to observe my vital signs for stress, and THAT caused me much stress. I begged him to get in touch with my squadron’s Flight Surgeon, and he promised to do so. As the squadron’s Aviation Safety Officer, I knew the accident investigation team, including the Flight Surgeon, would soon be nearby. In the meantime, I intended to shower off the salt from my swim the day before.
When I attempted to enter the men’s shower room to shower myself, I was abruptly stopped by the nurse then on duty. I was NOT allowed to get out of my bed. I protested, complaining about the salt being an irritant. What could she say? She relented on the grounds that a nurse (all female) HAD to observe me while I was in the shower. NORAMALLY, this would NOT have been a problem for me, if I had been allowed to choose the nurse, but that was out of my jurisdiction and I was stuck with the nurse (not too cute) assigned. So once again I protested (somewhat more mildly this time), and it was agreed the nurse could monitor my progress from just outside the men’s shower room door.
By the time I was all prettied up, my NAVY Flight Surgeon had arrive to RESCUE me, and God knows I needed rescuing. He spoke one-on-one with the Air Force Flight Surgeon and PROMISED not to let me out of his sight until he was convinced I would be OK. The Air Force Flight Surgeon BOUGHT IT, and I was free to go with my NAVY Flight Surgeon!!! I wish I could remember his name because I owe him for saving my life!!! Er well…at least my evening.
As we left the hospital the Flight Surgeon asked me what I would like to do, and I promptly replied that I would like to go get Shit Faced! He agreed. So we left for the Bachelor Officer’s Quarters where the rest of the accident investigation team had been quartered, and where my duds for the night had been delivered (Thanks Tattoo).
Later that night while Out On the Town and drinking heavily, the Flight Surgeon asked me if I felt OK. Of course by that time I was feeling GREAT, so he and most of the rest of the team departed. They would be busy for the next few weeks discerning the details of my adventure. They never determined the cause of the engine failure. Tattoo later wrote the following using a black felt tipped pen my flight log book “ENGINE FAILED DUE TO UNKNOWN CAUSE. Pilot Ejected; acft lost at sea.
My story was briefly mentioned by Paul Harvey during his WGN (a Chicago, Il station) Paul Harvey Comments the next day. The reasons for the honorable mention of my story by Paul Harvey were most likely twofold: the copter that rescued me was ”On Call” just in case the first space shuttle Columbia was forced to land at Kadena AFB (it returned to the dry lakebed runway at Edwards AFB on April 14, 1981), an alternate landing site: and the fact that I was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant in the United States Marine Corps after graduating from Northwestern University in Evanston, Il just north of Chicago in June 1975.
A few years later in 1997 (?) I had the opportunity to take a weekend Sabreliner (CT-39G) “training” mission with Major (Ken?) Walsh, who had been an A6E pilot prior to his arrival at MCAS El Toro, which is unfortunately now closed. During that weekend we had countless hours to tell lies and other stories, when he began to tell me about an unusual engine failure he had experienced while flying the A6E, which had the same Pratt & Whitney J52-P-408 engines as the A4-M. He explained in vivid detail how the engine seemed to explode in the intake, and how the RPM was low while the EGT was high, but within limits. Everything he said was just as I had experienced it 16 years earlier. And since he had TWO of these wonderful engines, he was able to safely land the airplane and maintenance was able to determine the cause of the engine’s failure after a brief investigation.
Ken then called his Dad and (playfully) asked him “Are you trying to kill me?”. As it turns out, the engine’s inlet guide vanes had failed causing catastrophic engine failure. Ken’s Dad was the P&W engineer who had designed the PW J52-P-408 inlet guide vanes.
I had achieved full closure, thanks to the anonymous Air Force photographer…..and…… to Ken’s Dad.