My last
36th Fighter-Bomber Squadron mission flown in May 1953 was uneventful. I
led two four-ship formations with each F-86 making a single dive-bombing
run on the pre-briefed target. There was no flak, no damaged aircraft, a
“no sweat” mission except for a post landing embarrassment.
I had
flown 90 missions in the F-80C and could have elected to go FIGMO and
return home. I didn’t because Kathryn, my young bride as of May 1952,
was not going to graduate from college until June 1953. So I volunteered
to fly 10 missions in the new F-86, maybe 35 missions if I could extend.
The F-86F
was a great airplane compared to the F-80C. It had 35% more thrust than
the “Shooting Star” and a total hydraulic flight control system. The
F-80 flight controls had a 20-to-1 aileron hydraulic boost capability; you
could manhandle the airplane with the boosts off. The Sabre's flight
controls were more sensitive, especially in formation flight and during
aerobatic maneuvering. On my checkout flight, the chase pilot accused me
of flying square loops.
A pilot
flying his last mission was allowed some “latitude." On one of
these “show boat” missions, the lead, who was FIGMO, put us in diamond
formation. I was the “slot” guy. He made a high speed pass down the
runway at very low ground clearance. The choice was almost to fly into his
jet exhaust or scrape the runway. After fighting this for the full length
of the runway, approximately 10,000 feet, he finally pulled up. That was a
close call.
On my
100th mission, I was group lead. Some F-80 group missions had up to 48
airplanes. The maximum F-86 group missions were 36 airplanes. I led two
four-ship formations that day. One flight of four was from the 36th FBS;
the other four-ship was from either the 35th or 80th. As noted, the
mission was uneventful.
My last
mission showmanship led up to a post landing embarrassment. After the
other seven F-86s landed, I made a high speed pass down the runway at Mach
.9 plus. I pulled up halfway down to a 40-degree climb and made
multi-aileron rolls, seventeen as I recall, until running out of airspeed.
I then did a wing-over to downwind and landed. Several 36th FBS pilots,
along with my crew chief and armament guy, greeted my F-86 and me. The
last two took such good care of my bird (52-4415), which I had named Kathryn
II.
The
embarrassing part occurred after photo taking and congratulations. I
started to leave the flight line and head to the Officer's Club for a
scotch and soda when I looked back and saw two senior NCO specialists
glaring at me. They were pointing at one of the fuel tank pylons mounted
under the wing. I came back and was shown two damaged and torn fairings
where the fuel tanks were mounted to the wing structure. The 17 rolls at
high initial speeds did the damage.