Being a fighter pilot--for that matter, simply taking off in a single-engine jet fighter of the Century series, such as an F-102--presented a man, on a perfectly sunny day, with more ways to get himself killed than his wife and children could imagine in their wildest fears. If he was barreling down the runway at two hundred miles and hour, completing the takeoff run, and the board started lighting up red, should he (a) abort the takeoff (and try to wrestle with the monster, which was gorged with jet fuel, out in the sand beyond the end of the runway) or (b) eject (and hope that the goddamned human cannonball trick works at zero altitude and he doesn't shatter an elbow or a kneecap on the way out) or (c) continue the takeoff and deal with the problem aloft (knowing full well that the ship may be on fire and therefore seconds away from exploding)? He would have one second to sort out the actions and act, and this kind of little workaday decision came up all the time. [pp. 24-25]
Then one perfectly sunny day [Iven Kincheloe] was making a routine takeoff in an F-104 and the panel lit up red and he had that one second in which to decide whether or not to punch out at an altitude of about fifty feet...a choice complicated by the fact that the F-104's seat ejected straight down, out of the belly...and so he tried to roll the ship over and eject upside down, but he went out sideways and was killed. [p. 59]I think there was another story in the book where a two-person plane crashed on takeoff. The guy in the front bailed out, and the guy in the back stayed in the plane, and both made the right choice and lived. It was something like if the guy in the back had tried to eject, he would've died because the cockpit over him had been fused shut. I couldn't find it in the book, though.
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It would be amazing if anyone was on the ground.
posted by swift at 7:15 AM on October 18, 2010