1
SR 71 Not new but I thought very interesting Thu Mar 11, 2010 12:40 am
K-BIKE
Life time member
Hi Folks,
My other passion is similar vintage Mercedes Benz cars and one of the really nice guys on the forum posted this which I found fascinating as I always thought the SR71 was a most beautiful and graceful aircraft especially when you see them on an airfield. I cut and pasted it here.
I thought you guys might enjoy this, from a retired friend at
Sundstrand:
=================
SR-71 Blackbird
In April 1986, following an attack on American soldiers in a Berlin
disco, President Reagan ordered the bombing of Muammar Qaddafi's
terrorist camps in Libya My duty was to fly over Libya and take photos
recording the damage our F-111's had inflicted... Qaddafi had
established a 'line of death,' a territorial marking across the Gulf
of Sidra, swearing to shoot down any intruder that crossed the boundary.
On the morning of April 15, I rocketed past the line at 2,125 mph. I
Was piloting the SR-71 spy plane, the world's fastest jet, accompanied by
a Marine Major (Walt), the aircraft's reconnaissance systems officer
(RSO). We had crossed into Libya and were approaching our final turn
over the bleak desert landscape when Walt informed me that he was
receiving missile launch signals. I quickly increased our speed,
calculating the time it would take for the weapons-most likely SA-2
and SA-4 surface-to-air missiles capable of Mach 5 - to reach our
altitude. I estimated that we could beat the rocket-powered missiles to the turn
and stayed our course, betting our lives on the plane's performance.
After several agonizingly long seconds, we made the turn and blasted
toward the Mediterranean. 'You might want to pull it back,' Walt
suggested. It was then that I noticed I still had the throttles full
forward. The plane was flying a mile every 1.6 seconds, well above our
Mach 3.2 limit. It was the fastest we would ever fly. I pulled the
throttles to idle just south of Sicily, but we still overran the
refuelling tanker awaiting us over Gibraltar.
Scores of significant aircraft have been produced in the 100 years of
flight, following the achievements of the Wright brothers, which we
celebrate in December. Aircraft such as the Boeing 707, the F-86 Sabre
Jet, and the P-51 Mustang are among the important machines that have
flown our skies. But the SR-71, also known as the Blackbird, stands
alone as a significant contributor to Cold War victory and as the
fastest plane ever-and only 93 Air Force pilots ever steered the
'sled,' as we called our aircraft.
The SR-71 was the brainchild of Kelly Johnson, the famed Lockheed
designer who created the P-38, the F-104 Starfighter, and the U-2.
After the Soviets shot down Gary Powers' U-2 in 1960, Johnson began to
develop an aircraft that would fly three miles higher and five times faster
than the spy plane-and still be capable of photographing your license
plate.
However, flying at 2,000 mph would create intense heat on the
aircraft's skin. Lockheed engineers used a titanium alloy to construct more than
90 percent of the SR-71, creating special tools and manufacturing
procedures to hand-build each of the 40 planes. Special heat-resistant
fuel, oil, and hydraulic fluids that would function at 85,000 feet and
higher also had to be developed.
In 1962, the first Blackbird successfully flew, and in 1966, the same
year I graduated from high school, the Air Force began flying
operational SR-71 missions. I came to the program in 1983 with a
sterling record and a recommendation from my commander, completing the
week-long interview and meeting Walt, my partner for the next four
years he would ride four feet behind me, working all the cameras, radios,
and electronic jamming equipment. I joked that if we were ever captured,
he was the spy and I was just the driver. He told me to keep the pointy
end forward.
We trained for a year, flying out of Beale AFB in California, Kadena
Airbase in Okinawa, and RAF Mildenhall in England. On a typical
training mission, we would take off near Sacramento, refuel over
Nevada, accelerate into Montana, obtain high Mach over Colorado, turn right
over New Mexico, speed across the Los Angeles Basin, run up the West Coast,
turn right at Seattle, then return to Beale. Total flight time : two
hours and 40 minutes.
One day, high above Arizona, we were monitoring the radio traffic of
all the mortal air-planes below us. First, a Cessna pilot asked the air
traffic controllers to check his ground speed. 'Ninety knots,' ATC
replied. A Bonanza soon made the same request. 'One-twenty on the
ground,' was the reply. To our surprise, a navy F-18 came over the
radio with a ground speed check. I knew exactly what he was doing. Of
course, he had a ground speed indicator in his cockpit, but he wanted to let
all the bug-smashers in the valley know what real speed was 'Dusty 52, we
show you at 620 on the ground,' ATC responded. The situation was too
ripe. I heard the click of Walt's mike button in the rear seat. In his
most innocent voice, Walt startled the controller by asking for a
ground speed check from 81,000 feet, clearly above controlled airspace. In a
cool, professional voice, the controller replied, 'Aspen 20, I show you
at 1,982 knots on the ground.' We did not hear another transmission on
that frequency all the way to the coast.
The Blackbird always showed us something new, each aircraft possessing
its own unique personality. In time, we realized we were flying a
national treasure. When we taxied out of our revetments for take-off,
people took notice. Traffic congregated near the airfield fences,
because everyone wanted to see and hear the mighty SR-71 You could not
be a part of this program and not come to love the airplane. Slowly,
she revealed her secrets to us as we earned her trust.
One moonless night, while flying a routine training mission over the
Pacific, I wondered what the sky would look like from 84,000 feet if
the cockpit lighting were dark. While heading home on a straight course,
I slowly turned down all of the lighting, reducing the glare and
revealing the night sky. Within seconds, I turned the lights back up,
fearful that the jet would know and somehow punish me. But my desire
to see the sky overruled my caution, I dimmed the lighting again. To my
amazement, I saw a bright light outside my window. As my eyes adjusted
to the view, I realized that the brilliance was the broad expanse of
the Milky Way, now a gleaming stripe across the sky. Where dark spaces in
the sky had usually existed, there were now dense clusters of
sparkling stars. Shooting stars flashed across the canvas every few seconds. It
was like a fireworks display with no sound. I knew I had to get my eyes
back on the instruments, and reluctantly I brought my attention back
inside. To my surprise, with the cockpit lighting still off,
I could see every gauge, lit by starlight. In the plane's mirrors, I
could see the eerie shine of my gold spacesuit incandescently
illuminated in a celestial glow. I stole one last glance out the window.
Despite our speed, we seemed still before the heavens, humbled in the
radiance of a much greater power. For those few moments, I felt a part
of something far more significant than anything we were doing in the
plane. The sharp sound of Walt's voice on the radio brought me back to
the tasks at hand as I prepared for our descent.
The SR-71 was an expensive aircraft to operate. The most significant
cost was tanker support, and in 1990, confronted with budget cutbacks,
the Air Force retired the SR-71. The SR-71 served six presidents,
protecting America for a quarter of a century. Unbeknownst to most of
the country, the plane flew over North Vietnam, Red China, North
Korea, the Middle East, South Africa, Cuba, Nicaragua, Iran, Libya and the
Falkland Islands. On a weekly basis, the SR-71 kept watch over every
Soviet nuclear submarine and mobile missile site, and all of their
troop movements. It was a key factor in winning the Cold War.
I am proud to say I flew about 500 hours in this aircraft. I knew her
well. She gave way to no plane, proudly dragging her sonic boom
through enemy backyards with great impunity. She defeated every missile,
outran every MiG, and always brought us home. In the first 100 years of
manned flight, no aircraft was more remarkable. The Blackbird had outrun
nearly 4,000 missiles, not once taking a scratch from enemy fire.
On her final flight, the Blackbird, destined for the Smithsonian
National Air and Space Museum, sped from Los Angeles to Washington in
64 minutes, averaging 2,145 mph and setting four speed records.
===================================================
Regards,
K-BIKE
My other passion is similar vintage Mercedes Benz cars and one of the really nice guys on the forum posted this which I found fascinating as I always thought the SR71 was a most beautiful and graceful aircraft especially when you see them on an airfield. I cut and pasted it here.
I thought you guys might enjoy this, from a retired friend at
Sundstrand:
=================
SR-71 Blackbird
In April 1986, following an attack on American soldiers in a Berlin
disco, President Reagan ordered the bombing of Muammar Qaddafi's
terrorist camps in Libya My duty was to fly over Libya and take photos
recording the damage our F-111's had inflicted... Qaddafi had
established a 'line of death,' a territorial marking across the Gulf
of Sidra, swearing to shoot down any intruder that crossed the boundary.
On the morning of April 15, I rocketed past the line at 2,125 mph. I
Was piloting the SR-71 spy plane, the world's fastest jet, accompanied by
a Marine Major (Walt), the aircraft's reconnaissance systems officer
(RSO). We had crossed into Libya and were approaching our final turn
over the bleak desert landscape when Walt informed me that he was
receiving missile launch signals. I quickly increased our speed,
calculating the time it would take for the weapons-most likely SA-2
and SA-4 surface-to-air missiles capable of Mach 5 - to reach our
altitude. I estimated that we could beat the rocket-powered missiles to the turn
and stayed our course, betting our lives on the plane's performance.
After several agonizingly long seconds, we made the turn and blasted
toward the Mediterranean. 'You might want to pull it back,' Walt
suggested. It was then that I noticed I still had the throttles full
forward. The plane was flying a mile every 1.6 seconds, well above our
Mach 3.2 limit. It was the fastest we would ever fly. I pulled the
throttles to idle just south of Sicily, but we still overran the
refuelling tanker awaiting us over Gibraltar.
Scores of significant aircraft have been produced in the 100 years of
flight, following the achievements of the Wright brothers, which we
celebrate in December. Aircraft such as the Boeing 707, the F-86 Sabre
Jet, and the P-51 Mustang are among the important machines that have
flown our skies. But the SR-71, also known as the Blackbird, stands
alone as a significant contributor to Cold War victory and as the
fastest plane ever-and only 93 Air Force pilots ever steered the
'sled,' as we called our aircraft.
The SR-71 was the brainchild of Kelly Johnson, the famed Lockheed
designer who created the P-38, the F-104 Starfighter, and the U-2.
After the Soviets shot down Gary Powers' U-2 in 1960, Johnson began to
develop an aircraft that would fly three miles higher and five times faster
than the spy plane-and still be capable of photographing your license
plate.
However, flying at 2,000 mph would create intense heat on the
aircraft's skin. Lockheed engineers used a titanium alloy to construct more than
90 percent of the SR-71, creating special tools and manufacturing
procedures to hand-build each of the 40 planes. Special heat-resistant
fuel, oil, and hydraulic fluids that would function at 85,000 feet and
higher also had to be developed.
In 1962, the first Blackbird successfully flew, and in 1966, the same
year I graduated from high school, the Air Force began flying
operational SR-71 missions. I came to the program in 1983 with a
sterling record and a recommendation from my commander, completing the
week-long interview and meeting Walt, my partner for the next four
years he would ride four feet behind me, working all the cameras, radios,
and electronic jamming equipment. I joked that if we were ever captured,
he was the spy and I was just the driver. He told me to keep the pointy
end forward.
We trained for a year, flying out of Beale AFB in California, Kadena
Airbase in Okinawa, and RAF Mildenhall in England. On a typical
training mission, we would take off near Sacramento, refuel over
Nevada, accelerate into Montana, obtain high Mach over Colorado, turn right
over New Mexico, speed across the Los Angeles Basin, run up the West Coast,
turn right at Seattle, then return to Beale. Total flight time : two
hours and 40 minutes.
One day, high above Arizona, we were monitoring the radio traffic of
all the mortal air-planes below us. First, a Cessna pilot asked the air
traffic controllers to check his ground speed. 'Ninety knots,' ATC
replied. A Bonanza soon made the same request. 'One-twenty on the
ground,' was the reply. To our surprise, a navy F-18 came over the
radio with a ground speed check. I knew exactly what he was doing. Of
course, he had a ground speed indicator in his cockpit, but he wanted to let
all the bug-smashers in the valley know what real speed was 'Dusty 52, we
show you at 620 on the ground,' ATC responded. The situation was too
ripe. I heard the click of Walt's mike button in the rear seat. In his
most innocent voice, Walt startled the controller by asking for a
ground speed check from 81,000 feet, clearly above controlled airspace. In a
cool, professional voice, the controller replied, 'Aspen 20, I show you
at 1,982 knots on the ground.' We did not hear another transmission on
that frequency all the way to the coast.
The Blackbird always showed us something new, each aircraft possessing
its own unique personality. In time, we realized we were flying a
national treasure. When we taxied out of our revetments for take-off,
people took notice. Traffic congregated near the airfield fences,
because everyone wanted to see and hear the mighty SR-71 You could not
be a part of this program and not come to love the airplane. Slowly,
she revealed her secrets to us as we earned her trust.
One moonless night, while flying a routine training mission over the
Pacific, I wondered what the sky would look like from 84,000 feet if
the cockpit lighting were dark. While heading home on a straight course,
I slowly turned down all of the lighting, reducing the glare and
revealing the night sky. Within seconds, I turned the lights back up,
fearful that the jet would know and somehow punish me. But my desire
to see the sky overruled my caution, I dimmed the lighting again. To my
amazement, I saw a bright light outside my window. As my eyes adjusted
to the view, I realized that the brilliance was the broad expanse of
the Milky Way, now a gleaming stripe across the sky. Where dark spaces in
the sky had usually existed, there were now dense clusters of
sparkling stars. Shooting stars flashed across the canvas every few seconds. It
was like a fireworks display with no sound. I knew I had to get my eyes
back on the instruments, and reluctantly I brought my attention back
inside. To my surprise, with the cockpit lighting still off,
I could see every gauge, lit by starlight. In the plane's mirrors, I
could see the eerie shine of my gold spacesuit incandescently
illuminated in a celestial glow. I stole one last glance out the window.
Despite our speed, we seemed still before the heavens, humbled in the
radiance of a much greater power. For those few moments, I felt a part
of something far more significant than anything we were doing in the
plane. The sharp sound of Walt's voice on the radio brought me back to
the tasks at hand as I prepared for our descent.
The SR-71 was an expensive aircraft to operate. The most significant
cost was tanker support, and in 1990, confronted with budget cutbacks,
the Air Force retired the SR-71. The SR-71 served six presidents,
protecting America for a quarter of a century. Unbeknownst to most of
the country, the plane flew over North Vietnam, Red China, North
Korea, the Middle East, South Africa, Cuba, Nicaragua, Iran, Libya and the
Falkland Islands. On a weekly basis, the SR-71 kept watch over every
Soviet nuclear submarine and mobile missile site, and all of their
troop movements. It was a key factor in winning the Cold War.
I am proud to say I flew about 500 hours in this aircraft. I knew her
well. She gave way to no plane, proudly dragging her sonic boom
through enemy backyards with great impunity. She defeated every missile,
outran every MiG, and always brought us home. In the first 100 years of
manned flight, no aircraft was more remarkable. The Blackbird had outrun
nearly 4,000 missiles, not once taking a scratch from enemy fire.
On her final flight, the Blackbird, destined for the Smithsonian
National Air and Space Museum, sped from Los Angeles to Washington in
64 minutes, averaging 2,145 mph and setting four speed records.
===================================================
Regards,
K-BIKE
