Crusader..........Cold Cat Shot Got this from P.D.Harman a squadron mate vintage 55-56. Hoppy . Seeing the cold cat story reminds me of this one. I don't know if I shared it with you or not. Capt. Hank Smith, a friend of mine who lives in Monterey, was the first F8 driver to survive a cold cat. Here is his story, which is a lot like the one you just sent. Enjoy. Harvey Subject: F8 Cold Cat Story Hiya Tom, Here is the "sea story" you all asked me to tell last night at our reunion-- hope you enjoy it--- it is a nice story to be able to tell in the "first person". Here is the story of my "F8 Cold Cat" story. I have used this accident in many ways to different audiences to underline the importance of knowing the emergency procedures for which there is not time to refer to your NATOPS or procedural manuals. It was very useful when I taught Human Factors topics in the School of Aviation Safety at the Naval Postgraduate School in Monterey. Especially so because while I frequently went over my emergency ditching procedures and demonstrated that I knew them cold, I tried to abbreviate them as much as possible and left out the last part which was to inflate my Mae West which was a major mistake ( what Mark 3 C?). In conversations I had with my roomie ( Pat Crahan) after CAP ( Combat Air Patrol) missions he would mention how boring these flights were because all we did was fly in a race track pattern about 200 miles from the carrier. I thought they were exciting because the piloting requirements were so little I could practice my emergency procedures and these got me all juiced up. He said something to the effect that I must be some kind of masochist. While I was told at the time that I was the first guy to get out alive from an F8 cold cat shot and I have never had this part of the accident challenged, I hope someone will speak up if this is not true. The date was 28 July, 1959 aboard USS Midway, off the coast of California during a missile shoot exercise. During our brief in the ready room I was assigned an F8 with a Bureau Number of 145390 ( I don't remember the side number). Apparently I arrived five minutes early to man my airplane because the squadron mate who I was to replace on the "ready" ( Harry Sarajian) was pissed. All of us were trying to get as much flight time as possible and five minutes could be crucial when a launch signal was given. I had to climb up on the side of the ship and bang on the canopy to get Harry to get out. It was shortly after getting all strapped in that we did in fact receive the order to launch the F8's. After getting all hooked up to the Sponson Catapult ( the single cat on the angle deck) I gave the cat officer the customary salute to indicate that I was ready to go. He dropped his hand and away I went. However, about halfway down the track, I heard a loud explosion under the nose gear, similar to a 20 MM canon going off. Instantly my head came forward and my body slammed into the shoulder straps from the change in acceleration. My speed was about 110 knots and I needed about 155 knots to fly. I immediately pulled back the power, got on the brakes and tried to nose gear steer it up the axial deck, ( thinking I could get it stopped before going over the side). However, when the catapult shuttle went out from underneath the F8 it broke my hydraulic lines and thus made my nose gear steering inoperable. In addition it was clear to me that my braking was ineffective on the steel deck ( plat photos show smoke coming from my tires). Therefore I jammed the throttle back on planning to get burner and become airborne with what deck I had left ( hope springs eternal doesn't it !!!!.) As I glanced at the engine RPM gauge, it became apparent that since it was just spinning past 70 percent and I needed 87 1/2 percent before the burner would light, I was going to get wet!!!! After I had completed going over my emergency ditching procedures I still had about 25 feet of deck left before I would reach the edge. At that point I remember relaxing somewhat because there was nothing more I could do "until the bubbles stopped". ( Our water ditching training was adamant about waiting until the plane stopped before trying to unbuckle and get out of the seat). As I left the edge of the deck I had enough elevator control to keep the nose about 30 degrees nose down. I didn't want to go straight in because the plane would go too deep but I also didn't want to hit flat because I was afraid it might break my back (163 foot drop?). I remember the ride from the edge of the deck to the water as being very pleasant and quiet as I watched guys along the cat walk looking at me as I passed them and the gun turrets on the side of the ship. When I hit the water all hell broke loose!!! The airplane literally exploded. The wings came off, the engine blew turbine blades up onto the flight deck and the front of the canopy broke. All I remember seeing at that point was the pure white water coming into the cockpit so forcefully that it pulled my oxygen mask to oneside as it forced water down my throat even though my mask was securely fastened to my helmet with hardeman fittings. With both hands I reached up and pulled the mask back into place so it would act as a barrier to the tremendous water pressure. The water pressure was so great it was like a firehose being directed right into my face and the cockpit was filled immediately with water. During this time it also seemed like the airplane was being rolled around. I waited for what seemed like a long time for the bubbles to stop. Then it started to get dark and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to make it to the surface before I ran out of air, so I pulled the ejection seat face curtain 3 times. Nothing. I then realized I was going to have to get out of the airplane manually so I pulled the "T" handle near the sunscreen which sheared the rear canopy hinges and blew the canopy up about 6 inches from a 2600 psi bottle of nitrogen. I pulled my umbilical cords (oxygen, g-suit, and radio chords) with my left hand, squeezed my ditching handle with my right hand, and chinned myself with both hands on the canopy bow to free myself from the airplane. I breaststroke my way up to the surface of the water and noticed that the carrier was now about a 1 1/2 miles away from me. At this point I was gasping for air and because I had so much weight mass (parachute, seat pack with raft and other supplies, boots, torso harness, g-suite, helmet, oxygen regulator, mask, 38 pistol in holster, belt of 38 ammunition, flight suit, survival vest with 10 pounds of equipment, and my uninflated Mae West. Every wave that came by engulfed me because my mass was so great that I couldn't ride up with it. It is important to note that I never remembered to inflate my Mae West. Everytime I went over my emergency ditching procedure I left out this part because I thought that any dip shit who was in the water would naturally think to inflate his Mae West !!! But I was in what is sometimes referred as cognitive overload. It was all I could do to keep my head above water after each wave went by !!!! Fortunately it wasn't necessary to attract the helo and in a short time they appeared over head. They lowered the horse collar down slowly and I had to hold my head under water to maintain a position correct for hoisting. Man was that ever a chore !!! Gasping for air whenever I could and then finally holding my head underwater while they took the slack out of the cable and hoisted me up. When I finally got inside the door of the helo, the crewman couldn't believe all the gear I had on me and kept saying all the way back to the carrier "Jesus Christ you're a strong swimmer-- Jesus Christ you're a strong swimmer" !!!!!! finally, I said You'd swim too !!! After the traditional shot of brandy and return to the ready room still soaking wet I went over to Harry Sarajian and said " Harry, I'll never take your airplane again!!" Larry Renner, our schedules officer said I told him I heard the screws of the ship go by as I sank with the airplane. (some studies have shown that aircraft sink at about 7 knots) About 2 to 4 days after the cat shot the tips of my fingers turned black and blue. Previous to this accident I had always thought I was somewhat of a wuss but the manner in which I reached for the various handles and ripping out my umbilical chords by their roots apparently suggests otherwise--- especially when the chips are down. You may not be familiar with the way in which the liquid oxygen hose is secured to the left console of the F8 but it takes two hands--- one to lift the cap, which also serves to keep the hose 'connected to the console once the spring loaded cap is released, and one to push the end of the hose into the hole. It also takes this same coordinated effort to release the hose. However, in my situation I pulled the whole dammed thing out by its roots-- an unbelievable amount of strength----with only my LEFT HAND !!!! Thinking back on this I can hardly believe that it could be done without first lifting the spring loaded cap---even if you used both hands much less just your left. It is amazing what we can do when the adrenaline starts to flow Two days later they shot me off again and this time it worked as advertised. But just to emphasize what a tremendous effect this cold cat shot had on me, every time after that when I saluted the cat officer my whole body was in shaking convulsions all the way down to my feet on the rudder pedals !!! The only way I could calm myself down after that was to tell myself that it was going to happen again on this shot and get ready. You did it before and your can do it again!!! Part of the reason for my concern was the fact that the problem was not fixed. It was a manufacturing defect in the swegged claw of the catapult pennant. After my accident they reduced the number of uses of the pennant from unlimited to 100. About 2 months later another F8 on the Hancock had the same thing happen and they reduced the number of uses to 50. Then about a month after that another F8 on the Hancock had a cold cat caused by a bad pennant and they reduced it to 10 !!!! So it might be understandable why my body turned into a shaking blob on every cat shot for the rest of our cruise- ( 8 1/2 months). As a funny footnote-- About the middle of our Far East Cruise, the catapults themselves went down and no one could fly from the ship. Out X.O. who was a test pilot school grad and looking for ways to distinguish himself, took out his slide rule ( no calculators in those days) and said to the skipper during an All pilots Meeting (APM) , that it was possible to deck launch the F8 without the catapults if we only had half a fuel load and 40 kts. of wind over the deck. Needless to say I was shitting bricks because I was sure they would launch one of the most experienced water landing Junior Officers (JO'S) first. You can't begin to imagine my relief when our brash maintenance officer said in a loud voice," OK XO, here is the plan, we'll launch the Skipper first and when he goes into the water we'll launch you and when you go into the water, I'll be next in command and we'll shut this whole fuckin thing down". A few years later I ran into one our fantastic plane captains while attending grad school. Naturally it was great to see him and as we recalled the cold cat He told me that as the ship passed where I splashed into the water he could see me in the cockpit struggling with all the stuff that I had to do to get out. He said the water all around the F8 was red and he thought at the time that it was my blood. ( it actually was the red hydraulic fluid from the breakup of the plane). It was really moving to me as he recounted his memory of the accident because tears came to his eyes as he told me his story. Our closeness in the squadron was one of the things that I will cherish all the rest of my life and his reaction to my accident was testimony to just one aspect of that. It is interesting that the fighter pilot spirit permeated the whole squadron and I have never been in any organization which worked harder or with as much dedication and attention to detail as that group. What a privilege and honor to have served with such an incredible group. Changed my whole life !!!!! Hank |