. Let’s Go To Spain

In early 1964 BJ (before jets) the 160th Air Refueling Group (ARG) of the Ohio Air National Guard (OANG) stationed at Clinton County Air Force Base (CCAFB), Wilmington, Ohio, was nearing combat ready status and was ready to become a part of the new Air Force, “Total Force Concept” using KC-97G air tankers. Under this new policy the Air Guard would perform some active duty air refueling and other missions on a day to day basis without being activated. One requirement was have over water capability, particularly for the navigator and flight engineer. To satisfy this training, two crews were scheduled to conduct flight operations that included legs from CCAFB to Bermuda, refuel and then fly on to the Azores spend the night and continue on to Madrid and reverse course after a couple of days R&R.

I was on the second aircraft which took off a few hours after the first. Our crew consisted of two bankers as pilots, a chemist from Kentucky was the navigator and a self employed fiberglass fabricator from Cincinnati was the boom operator. I was the flight engineer and the only full time Guardsman on the crew.

The first leg was uneventful and refueling was completed after figuring out the pidgin English of the Bermudan ground crew. Just as it was growing dark we noted that our sister ship was returning to the island, having aborted its Azores leg. After they parked we were told that they had experienced a generator failure of a type that could turn into an engine fire if the engine was not shut down. Lost in the mists of time is why the first crew took our bird while we waited for theirs to be repaired for our use.

After watching our original aircraft depart eastward into the darkness we saw to the repairs and after a couple of hours we followed, heading away from a storm front and into the dark night.

The climb out to 15,000 feet and cruise was normal as the crew settled in for a navigational challenge as there were no sextant shots possible because of cloud cover. We droned on for several hours on instruments. Suddenly I was shaken from my routine when I heard a bang and felt number two throttle buck. I throttled back the engine a little and increased fuel mixture in an attempt to keep the backfiring engine on line. The backfires continued and I had no choice but to shut down the engine to preclude catastrophic failure. At this point the pilot asked a very nervous navigator what our position was and had we passed the point of no return or equa time point. After several quick computations the nav answered that we had not passed that point and we should reverse course and return to Bermuda.

In the meantime I brought power up on the remaining three engines to the maximum safe power for long term cruise and noted that in spite of the increased power we were slowly losing altitude. The pilot, a nervous type, said we couldn’t descend because we didn’t have clearance from traffic control. The plane didn’t know about clearances and kept slowly descending. I didn’t dare increase power further as we were looking at a three to three and a half hour flight back to the island and the engines couldn’t take the constant beating. I also knew from my three engine performance charts and from prior experience that we could hold altitude and airspeed at 10,000 feet if I could get rid of some weight. To add to the drama of the situation, we had turned into the teeth of a major storm. Total blackness pierced by bright flashes of lightning combined with gut wrenching up and down wind shears greeted us soon after the turn. The Navigator now wide eyed with a minor panic attack stated that he was lost and that we should request an air/sea rescue aircraft be dispatched from Bermuda to find us.

After computing fuel consumption and fuel remaining I asked for the pilots permission to pump fuel from the two external tanks into the air refueling tanks and dump the 8,000 pounds of fuel out the air refueling boom. The pilot hesitated. No one wants to get rid of precious fuel, especially when you are lost. We had more than enough fuel to make Bermuda plus a reserve and I advised the pilot that we could not hold a decent altitude and save the remaining engines at our current weight. He acquiesced albeit reluctantly and we dumped the fuel, leveled off at 10,000 feet and awaited intercept by the “duck butt” C-130 rescue plane.

After about an hour we made contact with the C-130 crew who gave us headings to Bermuda. Duck butt also informed us that crosswinds at the air base were near the max allowable for a KC-97. The pilot turned to me and asked if we had sufficient fuel to make it to the states and I answered that we could make it but that we would have to ditch in the surf off the Carolinas. The pilot made an excellent landing considering the conditions and we all shouted our relief. The Navigator reluctantly admitted that he had made a half hour error in his computations and we were that far ahead on the Azores side of the equa time point. The only down side was that we would have to spend Easter week in Bermuda with all the cruise ships and fly in tourists because it would take that long to get parts in to fix our bird.

We didn't get to Spain after all.

Paul Hunter paulhunter45177@gmail.com