combat aircraft

their lives since the mission pilot, dressed

in a cumbersome full pressure suit, could

not pre- ight his aircraft and depended

on another pilot to accomplish that task,

right up to engine start. This pilot was

the back-up mission pilot and the mobile

control o cer (mobile) who not only

provided all safety checks on the ground

but also monitored the mission that could

last more than 12 hours. He also chased

the aircraft at over 100mph while giving

landing altitude and correction calls to the

pilot, hampered with restricted visibility

in the cockpit, before safely escorting the

aircraft back to the hangar.

The rest of the morning I was sequenced

through numerous ‘higher-ups’ where

my e ciency reports,  ying records and

military bearing were scrutinized. Each

wrote an evaluation that was forwarded

to my last stop — the wing commander.

I sat in silence as he read the reviews

and after what seemed an hour (but was

probably only a few minutes) we chatted

about my goals in the air force before he

o ered his blessing — pending my

medical evaluation — at taming the

U-2CT trainer. As I saluted him on

departing his o ce he stated that,

by far, the ‘Two-Headed Goat’ was the

most di cult and dangerous aircraft he

had ever  own and wished me well.

Back at the squadron I was introduced

to my acceptance  ight evaluators, ‘Snake’

and ‘PF’. ‘Snake’ was my commander in the

o cer training school’s  ight screening

program, where we nicknamed him ‘the

Steely-Eyed Killer’, while they apparently

broke the mold after ‘PF’ entered

the world!

They both gave me the rundown on

what was expected from my three  ights

in ‘the Goat’. There would be no ‘acceptable

for  rst  ight’ wishy-washy grades — every

tra c pattern and landing were to be

scored against the perfect example and

assigned either a satisfactory, marginal

or unsatisfactory grade. Interviewees

were  own in the back seat due to the

much-improved visibility when compared

to the front seat and both evaluators

would be  lling out grading cards from

the front seat and the mobile. If progress

was not evident during each  ight or the

interviewee threw in the towel, he would

 nd himself on an airliner back home the

next day. Progress — in this instance —

was to eventually acquire a feel for the

landing attitude picture and holding the

aircraft’s main landing gear at exactly 2ft

until she stalled, something extremely

aberrant to any jet pilot’s normal reactions.

Additionally, the airplane had to be

planted exactly on the centerline due to its

Boeing 737-sized wing span on the U-2R

variant and then maintained perfectly

balanced on its bicycle landing gear until

it came to a complete stop. Like most

pilots of my generation, I’d  own nothing

but tricycle-geared aircraft and therefore

never needed to execute a stall before

landing — and certainly not in a jet. This

was going to be a hard habit to break

but I was determined to do so at all costs.

With that, I was informed that a detailed

brie ng would occur the following day,

and it being 16.00hrs the squadron

bar was open.

Pilot acceptance hurdles

‘Snake’ and ‘PF’ escorted me down to the

bar and introduced me to the handful of

pilots and sta navigators present. My

reception was fairly reserved until a short

lieutenant colonel nicknamed ‘Fuzzy’

walked up to me and asked if I wanted a

beer, to which I responded that I would

http://www.combataircraft.net // July 2018 85

84-93 U-2 part 1 C.indd 85 22/05/2018 16:16