combat aircraft

the instrument panel — piloting and

dead-reckoning were accomplished by

manual control of the autopilot along the

route. INS guidance was forbidden until I’d

passed the MQ check ride.

The greatest challenge in high  ight

revolved around adapting to the pressure

suit environment. Our chief  ight surgeon

‘Voodoo Jimmy’ left nothing to the

imagination as to what would happen

should the suit malfunction during a rapid

decompression or high-altitude ejection.

That realization was brought home during

my  rst annual altitude chamber ride —

capable of simulating 100,000ft — while

strapped to an inert ejection seat. Boyle’s

Law of expanding gas versus decreasing

air pressure was aptly illustrated by a limp

surgical glove suspended from a string. It

blew up to the size of a large beach ball at

80,000ft, illustrating the e ects of minute

nitrogen bubbles within the human body

tissue instantly coming out of solution at

altitude. On the way up, a beaker of water

started boiling while passing 62,000ft with

an internal chamber temperature of 98.6°F,

exemplifying what would occur to bodily

 uids at that altitude and above without

the protection of the suit. As ‘Voodoo’ said,

‘Death would be dastardly but at least it

would be instant.’

Getting used to the pampering by

PSD was easy. Regulation required

consumption of a high-protein, low-

residue meal (steak and eggs) prior to

every high  ight, followed by a  ight

physical. After dressing in custom cotton

long johns and  tting the urine collection

device (UCD), the pilot entered the

suit-up room to be literally dressed by

three technicians, one of whom was the

supervisor inspecting every move made

by the other two. For operational missions,

a three-hour countdown would have

been started by waking the pilot and

would have sequenced through the many

steps required to reach the crucial point

of having him suited-up and on 100 per

cent oxygen one hour prior to take-o.

This vital timing ensured that the oxygen

had su cient time to saturate and absorb

the nitrogen bubbles, thus preventing ‘the

bends’ during the rapid climb to altitude.

Many other unique high- ight quirks

had to be mastered. First of all, the

minimal forward visibility of the U-2R

was further reduced by a considerable

decrease of lateral visibility due to

the helmet, requiring constant head

movement during taxi and diminished

lateral cues on landing. Writing legibly

in loose pressure gloves, regulating suit

and face-heat comfort levels, eating

and drinking through a plastic tube and

learning to use the UCD also had to be

perfected, not to mention developing

mind over matter in conquering an itch.

No matter where it occurred, it could not

be scratched.

With all these uncommon nuances and

more to consider, I released brakes and

 rewalled the throttle, launching on my

 rst high  ight. Hyperventilating slightly,

I found myself well behind the checklists

until told by ATC to level o at 18,000ft

for airline tra c, thankfully allowing me

to catch up. Once cleared to climb above

 ight level 600 (uncontrolled airspace) and

completing my last checklist at 52,500ft,

I turned toward my start/navigation

point — Alcatraz prison. The sky was

now growing markedly darker and the

earth’s curvature more pronounced by

the minute as I passed FL600, set cruise-

climb power and signed o with Oakland

Center. I manipulated the autopilot turn

knob to center the viewsight crosshairs

on Alcatraz, passing directly overhead

above 70,000ft before turning northward.

As I passed over my navigation points I

realized how quiet it had become, with

only the oxygen entering my helmet with

each breath and the barely perceivable

drone of the engine, despite it being one

of the loudest engines ever designed. I

turned eastward, looking down on the

spider’s web of airliner contrails nine miles

below as I headed for Oroville Dam, my

descent point back to Beale.

After three landings, ‘the Lady’ and I

came to a stop as her left wingtip dropped

to the runway. ‘Pogos’ installed, I couldn’t

stop smiling as I taxied back to the ramp,

completing my  rst high  ight.

This experience was only topped by the

following night  ight, when I dimmed

all lighting and, looking up, immediately

understood the insigni cance of mankind

as I gazed at the planets, stars and galaxies

that few humans would ever have the

honor of viewing from above 70,000ft.

Below: With

‘pogos’ installed,

a U-2 taxies back

to the fl ight line

at Beale post-

mission.

Gert Kromhout

Bottom left to

right: Hoover Dam

as seen through

the viewsight. The

crosshairs are in

the nadir position,

displaying the

exact position

of the U-2 above

the earth. The

outlined box is

one square mile.

Rick Burgess

A view of the

snow-capped

Sierra Nevada

mountain range

with Lake Tahoe

(upper left) after

departure from

Beale AFB.

Jeff Olesen

via author

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