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  1. #1
    Victor N TN Guest

    SR-71 radio chatter...

    A friend who affectionetly calls me a "wing nut", sent me this.



    My father is a former E-2 pilot, and he knows how I have loved planes since I was a kid. He sent me this story:
    ______________________________ ___________________

    SR-71 Story
    Written by Brian Schul - former sled(SR-71) driver


    There were a lot of things we couldn't do in an SR-71, but we were the fastest guys on the block and loved reminding our fellow aviators of
    this fact.

    People often asked us if, because of this fact, it was fun to fly the jet. Fun would not be the first word I would use to describe flying
    this plane - intense, maybe, even cerebral. But there was one day in our Sled experience when we would have to say that it was pure fun to be the
    fastest guys out there, at least for a moment.

    It happened when Walt and I were flying our final training sortie. We needed 100 hours in the jet to complete our training and attain
    Mission Ready status. Somewhere over Colorado we had passed the century mark. We
    had made the turn in Arizona to return to Beale AFB. The plane was performing flawlessly.

    My gauges were wired in the front seat and we were starting to feel pretty good about ourselves, not only because we would soon be flying real missions but because we had gained a great deal of confidence in the plane in the past ten months. Ripping across the barren deserts
    80,000 feet below us, I could already see the coast of California from the Arizona border. I was, finally, after many humbling months of
    simulators and study, ahead of the jet.

    I was beginning to feel a bit sorry for Walter in the back seat. There he was, with no really good view of the incredible sights before us,
    tasked with monitoring four different radios. This was good practice for him for when we began flying real missions, when a priority transmission
    from headquarters could be vital. It had been difficult, too, for me to relinquish control of the radios, as during my entire flying career I
    had controlled my own transmissions. But it was part of the division of duties in this plane and I had adjusted to it. I still insisted on
    talking on the radio while we were on the ground, however. Walt was so good at many things, but he couldn't match my expertise at sounding
    smooth on the radios,a skill l that had been honed sharply with years in fighter squadrons where the slightest radio miscue was grounds for
    beheading. He understood that and allowed me that luxury.

    Just to get a sense of what Walt had to contend with, I pulled the radio toggle switches and monitored the frequencies along with him. The
    predominant radio chatter was from Los Angeles Center, far below us, controlling daily traffic in their sector. While they had us on their
    scope (albeit briefly), we were in uncontrolled airspace and normally would not talk to them unless we needed to descend into their airspace.

    We listened as the shaky voice of a lone Cessna pilot who asked Center for a read-out of his ground speed. Center replied: "November 1753C,
    I'm showing you at ninety knots over the ground." Now the thing to understand about Center controllers, was that whether they were
    talking to a rookie pilot in a Cessna, or to Air Force One, they always spoke in the exact same, calm, deep, professional tone that made one feel
    important. I referred to it as the "Houston Center voice."

    I have always felt that after years of seeing documentaries on this country's space program and listening to the calm and distinct voice
    of the Houston controllers, that all other controllers since then wanted to sound like that and that they basically did. And it didn't matter what sector of the country we would be flying in, it always seemed like the same guy was talking. Over the years that tone of voice had become
    somewhat of a comforting sound to pilots everywhere. Conversely, over the years, pilots always wanted to ensure that, when transmitting,
    they sounded like Chuck Yeager, or at least like John Wayne. Better to die than sound bad on the radios.

    Just moments after the Cessna's inquiry, a Twin Beech piped up on frequency, in a rather superior tone, asking for his ground speed.

    "I have you at one hundred and twenty-five knots of ground speed."

    Boy, I thought, the Beechcraft really must think he is dazzling his Cessna brethren.

    Then out of the blue, a navy F-18 pilot out of NAS Lemoore came up on frequency. You knew right away it was a Navy jock because he sounded
    very cool on the radios. "Center, Dusty 52, ground speed check."

    Before Center could reply, I'm thinking to myself, hey, Dusty 52 has a ground speed indicator in that million-dollar cockpit, so why is he asking Center for a read-out? Then I got it. Ol' Dusty here is making sure that every bug smasher from Mount Whitney to the Mojave knows
    what true speed is. He's the fastest dude in the valley today, and he just wants everyone to know how much fun he is having in his new Hornet.

    And the reply, always with that same, calm, voice, with more distinct alliteration than emotion: "Dusty 52, Center, we have you at 620 over the ground."

    And I thought to myself, is this a ripe situation, or what? As my hand instinctively reached for the mic button, I had to remind myself that Walt was in control of the radios.

    Still, I thought, it must be done - in mere seconds we'll be out of the sector and the opportunity will be lost. That Hornet must die, and die now. I thought about all of our simulator training and how important it was that we developed well as a crew and knew that to jump in on the radios now would destroy the integrity of all that we had worked toward becoming. I was torn.

    Somewhere, 13 miles above Arizona, there was a pilot screaming inside his space helmet.

    Then, I heard it - the click of the mic button from the back seat.
    That was the very moment that I knew Walter and I had become a crew. Very professionally, and with no emotion, Walter spoke: "Los Angeles
    Center, Aspen 20, can you give us a ground speed check?"

    There was no hesitation, and the replay came as if was an everyday request.

    "Aspen 20, I show you at one thousand eight hundred and forty-two knots, across the ground."

    I think it was the forty-two knots that I liked the best, so accurate and proud was Center to deliver that information without hesitation,
    and you just knew he was smiling.

    But the precise point at which I knew that Walt and I were going to be really good friends for a long time was when he keyed the mic once
    again to say, in his most fighter-pilot-like voice: "Ah, Center, much thanks,
    we're showing closer to nineteen hundred on our equipment."

    For a moment Walter was a god. And we finally heard a little crack in the armor of the Houston Center voice, when L.A. came back with, "Roger
    that Aspen. Your equipment is probably more accurate than ours. You boys
    have a good one."

    It all had lasted for just moments, but in that short, memorable sprint across the southwest, the Navy had been flamed, all mortal airplanes
    on freq were forced to bow before the King of Speed, and more importantly, Walter and I had crossed the threshold of being a crew. A fine day's work. We never heard another transmission on that frequency all the way to the coast.

    For just one day, it truly was fun being the fastest guys out there.

  2. #2
    Jackalope's Avatar
    Jackalope is offline Yell O
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    Great story.
    "I'm not a coward,
    I've just never been tested
    I'd like to think that if I was,
    I would pass"
    ~Mighty Mighty Bosstones~

  3. #3
    Cross240 is offline Temporarily Civilianized
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    Good story.....i liked that.
    There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter. -- Ernest Hemingway

  4. #4
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    Another SR71 story

    In similar vein (airport not stated), an SR-71 crew were listening in on a similar "match this" contest. A Cessna asked to clear to 4000 ft, a corporate jet requested clearance to 12,000, an airliner to 18,000, etc. Finally the SR-71 called ATC.
    SR-71: "Request clearance to FL600" (60,000 ft)
    Tower: "Eh..if you can make it, cleared to climb to FL600"
    SR-71: "Roger, descending to FL600".



    Also, don't forget these Basic Flying Rules:
    1. Try to stay in the middle of the air.
    2. Do not go near the edges of it.
    3. The edges of the air can be recognised by the appearance of ground, buildings, sea, trees and interstellar space. It is much more difficult to fly there.
    Alpha Phi Sigma Alum - Alpha Delta Chapter
    ΑΦΣ

  5. #5
    Xiphos's Avatar
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    I'm going to practice some Necromancy and resurrect this thread. It's a great story, pure money.

    "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil. For I am at Angels Eight Zero and climbing." -anonymous SR-71 pilot
    Pleasing nobody, one person at a time.

    That which does not kill me, better start fucking running.

    If I lived every day like it was my last, the body count would be staggering.

    I intend to go in harm's way. -John Paul Jones

    Hunt the wolf, and bring light to the dark places that others fear to go. LT COL Dave Grossman

  6. #6
    keith720's Avatar
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    What a great story!
    For the morning will come. Brightly will it shine on the brave and true, kindly upon all who suffer for the cause, glorious upon the tombs of heroes. Thus will shine the dawn.

    Winston Churchill

  7. #7
    Jks9199 is offline The Reason People Hate Cops & Causer of War
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    Quote Originally Posted by Xiphos View Post
    I'm going to practice some Necromancy and resurrect this thread. It's a great story, pure money.

    "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil. For I am at Angels Eight Zero and climbing." -anonymous SR-71 pilot
    He ain't walking through the valley of death, he's flying well above the damn thing!

    What's the matter -- feeling a little too close that particular psalm?
    Voting against incumbents until we get a Congress that does its job.

    TASER: almost as good as alcohol for teaching white boys to dance

    "Don't suffer from PTSD -- Go out and cause it!"
    -- Col. David Grossman, US Army, ret.

    All opinions expressed are my own and are not official statements of my employer.

  8. #8
    Xiphos's Avatar
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    I quoted it the way I read it.

  9. #9
    ISPTI's Avatar
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    Very cool... Glad you brought this back from the dead.

  10. #10
    Five-0's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by ISPTI View Post
    Very cool... Glad you brought this back from the dead.
    This thread was far from dead. It is visited more than just about any thread on the board by people just passing through here. As you can see from the list of approved linkbacks.

    Meanwhile, fishing in Russia:

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkzV5AIK8iM
    "When plunder becomes a way of life for a group of men living together in society, they create for themselves in the course of time a legal system that authorizes it and a moral code that justifies it." -- Frederic Bastiat

    "Certainly there is no hunting like the hunting of man and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never really care for anything else thereafter." Ernest Hemingway

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  11. #11
    Second Chance's Avatar
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    Nice!!!!!!!!!!
    Swamp Mafia





    The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.
    ~Edmond Burke

    Certainly there is no hunting like the hunting of man and those who have hunted armed men long enough and like it, never really care for anything else.
    ~Ernest Hemingway

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Follow me on twitter.........http://twitter.com/SecondChance122





    Disclaimer: The opinions given in my signatures DO NOT reflect the opinions, views, policies, and/or procedures of my employing agency. They are MY PERSONAL OPINIONS and I accept sole responsibility as such.

  12. #12
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    Always a favorite!
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  13. #13
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    Nice, great story. Glad it was resurrected, I hadn't seen it before...
    RIP Sarah Noll~11-8-87 to 4-17-08

  14. #14
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    Speed Is Life

    Never underestimate the importance of an instrument cross-check
    By Brian Shul

    As a former SR-71 pilot, and a professional keynote speaker, the question I’m most often asked is “How fast would that SR-71 fly?” I can be assured of hearing that question several times at any event I attend. It’s an interesting question, given the aircraft’s proclivity for speed, but there really isn’t one number to give, as the jet would always give you a little more speed if you wanted it to. It was common to see 35 miles a minute. Because we flew a programmed Mach number on most missions, and never wanted to harm the plane in any way, we never let it run out to any limits of temperature or speed. Thus, each SR-71 pilot had his own individual “high” speed that he saw at some point on some mission. I saw mine over Libya when Khadafy fired two missiles my way, and max power was in order. Let’s just say that the plane truly loved speed and effortlessly took us to Mach numbers we hadn’t previously seen.

    So it was with great surprise, when at the end of one of my presentations, someone asked, “What was the slowest you ever flew in the Blackbird?” This was a first. After giving it some thought, I was reminded of a story that I had never shared before, and relayed the following.
    I was flying the SR-71 out of RAF Mildenhall, England, with my back-seater, Walt Watson; we were returning from a mission over Europe and the Iron Curtain when we received a radio transmission from home base. As we scooted across Denmark in three minutes, we learned that a small RAF base in the English countryside had requested an SR-71 flypast. The air cadet commander there was a former Blackbird pilot, and thought it would be a motivating moment for the young lads to see the mighty SR-71 perform a low approach. No problem, we were happy to do it. After a quick aerial refueling over the North Sea, we proceeded to find the small airfield.

    Walter had a myriad of sophisticated navigation equipment in the back seat, and began to vector me toward the field. Descending to subsonic speeds, we found ourselves over a densely wooded area in a slight haze. Like most former WWII British airfields, the one we were looking for had a small tower and little surrounding infrastructure. Walter told me we were close and that I should be able to see the field, but I saw nothing. Nothing but trees as far as I could see in the haze. We got a little lower, and I pulled the throttles back from the 325 knots we were at. With the gear up, anything under 275 was just uncomfortable. Walt said we were practically over the field—yet, there was nothing in my windscreen. I banked the jet and started a gentle circling maneuver in hopes of picking up anything that looked like a field.

    Meanwhile, below, the cadet commander had taken the cadets up on the catwalk of the tower in order to get a prime view of the flypast. It was a quiet, still day with no wind and partial gray overcast. Walter continued to give me indications that the field should be below us, but in the overcast and haze, I couldn’t see it. The longer we continued to peer out the window and circle, the slower we got. With our power back, the awaiting cadets heard nothing. I must have had good instructors in my flying career, as something told me I better cross-check the gauges. As I noticed the airspeed indicator slide below 160 knots, my heart stopped and my adrenalin-filled left hand pushed two throttles full forward. At this point, we weren’t really flying, but were falling in a slight bank. Just at the moment that both afterburners lit with a thunderous roar of flame (and what a joyous feeling that was), the aircraft fell into full view of the shocked observers on the tower. Shattering the still quiet of that morning, they now had 107 feet of fire-breathing titanium in their face as the plane leveled and accelerated, in full burner, on the tower side of the infield, closer than expected, maintaining what could only be described as some sort of ultimate knife-edge pass.

    Quickly reaching the field boundary, we proceeded back to Mildenhall without incident. We didn’t say a word for those next 14 minutes. After landing, our commander greeted us, and we were both certain he was reaching for our wings. Instead, he heartily shook our hands and said the commander had told him it was the greatest SR-71 flypast he had ever seen, especially how we had surprised them with such a precise maneuver that could only be described as breathtaking. He said that some of the cadet’s hats were blown off and the sight of the planform of the plane in full afterburner dropping right in front of them was unbelievable. Walt and I both understood the concept of “breathtaking” very well that morning, and sheepishly replied that they were just excited to see our low approach.

    As we retired to the equipment room to change from space suits to flight suits, we just sat there—we hadn’t spoken a word since “the pass.” Finally, Walter looked at me and said, “One hundred fifty-six knots. What did you see?” Trying to find my voice, I stammered, “One hundred fifty-two.” We sat in silence for a moment. Then Walt said, “Don’t ever do that to me again!” And I never did.

    A year later, Walter and I were having lunch in the Mildenhall Officer’s Club, and overheard an officer talking to some cadets about an SR-71 flypast that he had seen one day. Of course, by now the story included kids falling off the tower and screaming as the heat of the jet singed their eyebrows. Noticing our HABU patches, as we stood there with lunch trays in our hands, he asked us to verify to the cadets that such a thing had occurred. Walt just shook his head and said, “It was probably just a routine low approach; they’re pretty impressive in that plane.” Impressive indeed.

    Little did I realize after relaying this experience to my audience that day that it would become one of the most popular and most requested stories. It’s ironic that people are interested in how slow the world’s fastest jet can fly. Regardless of your speed, however, it’s always a good idea to keep that cross-check up...and keep your Mach up, too.

    Brian Shul spent 20 years as an Air Force fighter pilot, and now is a popular keynote speaker. Shot down in Vietnam, he spent one year in a burn ward. His comeback story culminated with flying the SR-71, which he detailed inSled Driver. Brian also is known for his nature photography, which is on display at Gallery One in California.
    Pleasing nobody, one person at a time.

    That which does not kill me, better start fucking running.

    If I lived every day like it was my last, the body count would be staggering.

    I intend to go in harm's way. -John Paul Jones

    Hunt the wolf, and bring light to the dark places that others fear to go. LT COL Dave Grossman

  15. #15
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    thanks for sharing
    "That's how we roll"

  16. #16
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  17. #17
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    Great stories. Wish they had never killed the bird That one and the XB-70 would be my top two planes I'd love to see in action.
    He who has the money, signs the cheques.
    He who signs the cheques, makes the rules.
    He who makes the rules, has the power.
    He who has the power, has the money.

  18. #18
    Xiphos's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by 213th View Post
    Great stories. Wish they had never killed the bird That one and the XB-70 would be my top two planes I'd love to see in action.
    I'm sure they have something else up there now.
    Pleasing nobody, one person at a time.

    That which does not kill me, better start fucking running.

    If I lived every day like it was my last, the body count would be staggering.

    I intend to go in harm's way. -John Paul Jones

    Hunt the wolf, and bring light to the dark places that others fear to go. LT COL Dave Grossman

  19. #19
    Jks9199 is offline The Reason People Hate Cops & Causer of War
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    Quote Originally Posted by Xiphos View Post
    I'm sure they have something else up there now.
    I agree. Satellites are great -- but they have limits in deployment. You can't convince me that the retired the Blackbird with nothing to replace it...
    Voting against incumbents until we get a Congress that does its job.

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  20. #20
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    Quote Originally Posted by Jks9199 View Post
    I agree. Satellites are great -- but they have limits in deployment. You can't convince me that the retired the Blackbird with nothing to replace it...

    I'm not entirely convinced that all of the Blackbirds are retired. Who is to say one or two weren't put aside for special occassions.
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