Night aboard the carrier

Air Classics, Nov 2002 by Chatham, William H

DURING WORLD WAR TWO, NOCTURNAL AIRCRAFT CARRIER MISSIONS WERE EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. THE AUTHOR TAKES US ABOARD A CARRIER TO "FLY US THROUGH"A TYPICAL NIGHTTIME MISSION AGAINST THE ENEMY

During World War Two, every Navy and Marine pilot had to qualify for night carrier landings. This "educational process" usually took place after being assigned to an Air Group, but prior to entering the combat zone. In the Fleet, they did not usually schedule you to land at night unless you were a designated night fighter pilot and had trained for the mission. Also, the night fighter aircraft were much better equipped for night work. Therefore, most night landings were, for the most part, accidental. There were lots of predawn launches in the dark, but you always landed after sun-up (more on this later). So let's put you the reader into the cockpit of a Grumman F6F Hellcat and see if I can relay how it felt to fly on a black, black night!

You took off around 1700 hours (5:00 pm) in Air Group strength which meant perhaps 24 Hellcats, 24 Corsairs, 20 SB2C Helldiver dive bombers, and 16 TBM Avenger torpedo bombers. To this mixture would be added the same number of planes from two or three other carriers. Your target - a Japanese carrier task force some 200 miles away!

You find the enemy and one hell-of-a-fight takes place. It lasts longer than expected. When it's over, the sun is down below the horizon. It's getting dark, you are number two man in a division of four fighters. Your leader heads for home base. There is total radio silence! He has his plotting board, plus a device known as the "Hay Rake" (which, of course, you have a copy). It is a 360-degree circle (or wheel) divided into 24 quadrants of 15 degrees each. Each quadrant has a heading designated to guide you back to the carrier. The carrier is presumed to be at the center of the circle (and/or wheel).

Each 15-degree quad has a double letter such as: AA/BB/CC/DD/etc. It was set for a Morse code signal. Let's say we activated the Rake and picked up "AA." This day we had to fly the reciprocal heading on the chart. "AA" normally would be 30 degrees. Reciprocal would be 210 degrees. So..theoretically this heading should let you intercept the carrier. Or, get within a few miles! Enough to where a square search should get you home.

By the time you find your Essex-- class carrier, you are exhausted and low on fuel. The night is black as a bucket of tar at the bottom of a well - no horizon to help relate to level flight! Heavy overcast, no moon or stars to be seen. The ocean swells are heavy, causing the carrier to pitch, roll, and yaw more than usual (yaw is a side-to-side sliding movement). Of course, you know none of this because you cannot see the carrier - or the water! You are always soaked through with perspiration, including your gloves. Some of this is from physical exertion, but mostly it is mental.

The carrier is totally dark, except for one small white light on top of the superstructure. That light is used to help you time the final turn into the carrier. You will not see another light until you are on your final approach, approximately 200 feet behind and 25 to 30 feet above the flight deck in a left hand turn. Then, and only then, do you see two little rows of dim blue lights running up both sides of the flight deck. They are cupped and can not be seen by subs or other surface vessels, or, while flying over-head.

Okay! Your IFF (Identification Friend Foe) has squawked the correct signal. You have approached the fleet at the prescribed angle and altitude. Our guys are not shooting at you. So far, so good!

Yours is the first division to enter the pattern. Your leader puts the flight into a right echelon formation. You approach the carrier around 500-ft and 185 knots IAS (Indicated Air Speed). You fly past a little to the starboard side. Your leader gives a little wing wag and breaks left 90 degrees across the bow of the carrier - and disappears. You count off seven to ten seconds by the numbers, give a wing wag, and break left and down in a 90-degree bank. You throttle back, drop the landing gear and full flaps, losing altitude to approximately 100-ft above the water, with your IAS at approximately 65 knots - this is a little ticklish on a dark night because you have a pressure altimeter that has a 100-ft lag factor. The deck is 80-ft from the water on an Essex-class carrier, so your altimeter is useless! You trim for slow flight as you turn onto your downwind leg (heading directly opposite of the carrier's heading).

Now, go over the landing checkoff list: 1) Wheels down and locked; 2) Flaps full down at 50 degrees; 3) Mixture control auto-rich; 4) Prop full low pitch; 5) Hook down; 6) Cowl flaps open; 7) Canopy locked open; 8) Shoulder straps locked tight. While you are doing all of this you are keeping one eye on the white light. Now, it's time to start your final turn into the carrier. This is a constant left turn in a 20- to 30-degree bank as the carrier moves away from you. Slow to 70 knots IAS, holding nearly full right rudder to compensate for torque (the right leg gets tired and sometimes cramps up). At this point the stick is like a wet noodle. Very sloppy, not such feeling of control at all. You are about ten knots above stalling as always - a stall now could be fatal. You are trying to hold a smooth constant turn, altitude, and IAS while looking for the LSO.