Great or small, FOD is still FOD

Flying Safety, August, 2003 by Chris Field

I never thought it would happen to me, but a lapse in the "attention to detail" department caused me a brief moment of panic followed by a day's worth of embarrassment. Foreign Object Damage (FOD) is something we in the Navy take seriously, especially when something the size of a quarter can cost millions of dollars, let alone lives.

It was a good flight, an easy jaunt around the state of Washington with some sightseeing of Mounts St. Helens and Rainier. I was in the front right seat, the best view in the house. The flight and landing were uneventful. Thoughts of scrambling out of the squadron early floated through my head, maybe even hit the O club or host an impromptu cookout. What I should have been thinking about was the hot switch evolution. How many times have you heard, "The flight's not over 'til the paperwork's done"?

We taxied into the holding area to swap crews. Of course, the skipper was switching into my seat (he always seems to be there for any kind of JO screw-up). We went through the checklist and unstrapped. The pilot shut down the left engine, popped open the canopy and the crew on the left side got out. As the new pilot started to get in the jet, I remembered my chart stashed in the radar boot. I pulled it out and the half page of AP1-B information that was glued on the back peeled off. It was kicked up by the wind and went straight into the right intake! As I watched it get sucked in, I thought, "Well, that's gone for good; nothing but ashes now." Then, "Damn!" as I looked up at the approaching skipper. I saw the Plane Captain signaling us to shut down the right engine. Yup, even though it was a small piece of paper, we still needed to take a look at the engine. I told the replacement pilot to secure the right engine for FOD. He did so and then looked at me for a better explanation. I gave it to him, and he gave me a big rolling of the eyes.

Fessing up to the skipper was the worst. As I did, it dawned on me that I had just made their day a little longer. What was supposed to be a 20-minute evolution was now going to be an hour. Damn! Why did it have to be the skipper? So, there I was, standing next to my CO, stressing out over what a piece of paper and my luck could do to a J-52 engine (nothing) and feeling bad that I just made the next crew's flight an extra 40 minutes longer.

All of this could have been avoided if I had taken the time to care for my stuff. Complacency also had a hand in this. One should never take for granted that everything on a flight will be like the last. A little "attention to detail" and forethought can save a lot of heartburn. Check your gear, make sure it's all together, and keep your mind in the plane.

(VAQ-134 is a US Navy Expeditionary EA-6B squadron.)