ORM Corner: top ten tanking troubles

Approach, Jan-Feb, 2004 by John Flynn

While flying missions in support of Operation Southern Watch and Operation Iraqi Freedom, our junior officers devised a top 10 list of tanking scenarios ranked from easiest to most difficult. The objective of this ranking was to more effectively apply ORM principles, revisit fundamental procedures, and review policies on how to conduct refuelings.

At first glance, the list may seem humorous, until you realize each scenario actually occurred and, more often than not, over not-so-friendly territory.

The list was posted in our ready room. As we ended our deployment, we fondly looked back at what our squadron had accomplished, including lots of flight time, predominantly under combat conditions, and more chicken pucks than I care to mention.

I remember my crew was the only one from our squadron to divert because we could not find the tanker. In retrospect, my crew did almost everything right, and we got the skipper's jet home because we applied the ORM principles, starting with the brief and continuing throughout the flight.

This story began during a CATCC watch earlier in the deployment, while listening to two sections and one single from other air-wing squadrons state their intentions to divert. Each crew had to ask for a latitude and longitude for the primary divert and the associated TACAN channel. Based on that event, I now questioned how familiar my squadron's aircrew were with the operating area's divert information. As the safety officer, I made sure the required divert information was well ingrained into the aircrew over the next few days, including location, navigation aids, field data and support facilities. Soon thereafter, the JO's "top 10" list materialized, which I found humorous. However, I realized the importance of reviewing proper procedures should we have trouble finding the tanker's basket, as was to occur that night.

I could say, "It was a dark and stormy night," but, actually, we could see great with NVDs, and we planned on staying above the clouds. METOC had briefed the weather would be "scattered to broken clouds from 8,000 to 25,000 feet, with scattered rain showers in the central and western portions of the AOR."

"Great," we thought, "right in the middle of all the tanker tracks."

After our brief and a review of the aircraft-discrepancy book, we again launched in support of the "shock and awe" phase of OIF. We easily found our front-side tanker with the help of the NVDs, but the tanker pilot wanted to stick to his assigned track, which meant going through (instead of around) cumulus clouds. We got our gas and proceeded to station. Along the way, we climbed, then climbed some more--all the way to a very untactical FL320. From there, we provided jamming support before leaving to find our midcycle tanker.

We had heard from another Prowler crew that the weather between FL260 and FL280 was workable, at least partly VMC. We had the E-3 clear the path in front of us, and we found ourselves descending and ascending between FL200 and FL300 to find VFR conditions. We finally found a clear altitude at FL260 and turned toward the tanker track.

One radio was tuned to the tanker-control frequency and the other radio directly to the tanker. The tanker crew said they were IMC at FL220. We got a sweet lock on him at 35 miles and asked the controller for a SNAP (bearing, distance and altitude). The tanker crew said they were climbing to FL240 because FL220 was unworkable. We got our SNAP from the controller and descended to FL230.

Looking at the "top 10" list, we had experienced Nos. 10, 9, and 8. Fortunately, we were not in a section, but we were about to experience numbers 4 and 3, although we were told no other tankers were in the vicinity. We had excellent comms with the tanker and the controllers as they fought to have a Prowler meet a VC-10.

I could see the TACAN quickly tick down, indicating a head-to-head pass was coming. As it ticked down to 1.5 miles, with no tanker in sight--we still were in the clouds at FL230 feet--I started to get worried. My pilot put on a hard turn, and we got an updated steer to the tanker, 180 degrees behind us. The VC-10 pilot tried various altitudes and headings but could not find a clear area. The tanker crew suggested we simply follow him via TACAN as he flew back to his base, and, if we broke out, then we could get our gas. With no other tankers available, this plan seemed like our final option.

I asked for another SNAP to our VC-10 and his heading. I noted the TACAN read 7.5 miles. From the information we received from the controller and the VC-10, the crew figured we were behind our tanker. We increased speed but watched the TACAN gradually increase, which did not make any sense, so I again asked for the VC-10's heading and airspeed. They were on our heading and about 50 knots slower than us. The controller swore that the VC-10 still was in front of us. About that time, we hit strong rain showers, and I swore to myself. Our squadron just had experienced a flight involving severe hail damage, so getting hit by hail was not good. The rain subsided occasionally but then came back with ferocity. Meanwhile, the TACAN still was increasing, even as we slowed. We had calculated our bingo number to be 4,500 pounds; we were showing 5,500 pounds. With the confusion over the tanker's location, and after dueling with the controller and the tanker, I asked, "OK, who has had enough of this?" My pilot immediately raised his hand.