(Tratto da: Lockeed F-104 Starfighter di Martin W. Bowman - Crowood Aviation Series)
Takeoff was child's play.
You engaged nosewheel steering and plugged in the afterburner, which gave a smooth, positive light in seven stages.
The stick was just held in the neutral position until approximately 20-25 knots below the computed takeoff speed when back pressure was applied. From then on, flight was (usually) inevitable.
Throttle response was truly awesome.
Unlike some other jet aircraft, fuel control units metered JP-4 to engine and afterburner such that you never had to worry about over-temping the engine, the net result being that you could bang the throttle around as much as you wanted.
A real stop-go lever.
Also, unlike today's high bypass engines, spool-up time was very rapid; the resulting thrust changes instantaneous.
The power was thus always there when you needed it, and this was a
tremendous advantage when flying close formation, and also for making rapid corrections to airspeed in any phas of flight where this was required, such as in the landing pattern or when dropping bombs, where speed accuracy is vital.
Often, today's bypass engines produce significant delays from throttle movement to engine response, a condition that requires some forethought ro compensate for on the part of the pilot.
This was cerrainly not a problem with the 104.
I personally had the relatively unique experience of flying the jet in both temperature extremes, starting with three years as an instructor (after a long rour in Germany) in Cold Lake, Canada, where we had square tyres and -40°F weather for weeks on end in winter. We used ro joke that we had eleven months of winter and one month of bad skiing, but it wasn't far from the truth.
The good news was the remarkable effect the cold air had on jet engines.
One of the parallel runways at Cold Lake is 12,OOOft long, and I can remember that on afterburner takeoff on a -40°F day in a 'clean' (no external stores) aircraft, you could have 450kt on the clock by the end of the runway.
The most difficult part was getting the landing gear locked up by its limiting speed of 260kt after takeoff.
If you hesitated even a second after nosewheel rotation, you were going to get an overspeed.
In marked contrast to this experience were memories of operations in the Arizona desert as an exchange instrucror at the USAF/GAF Fighter Weapons School.
Over the years, I suppose I've flown just about every configuration the 104 has to offer, but as an antithesis to the clean jet in the wintertime Cold Lake, the dart-tow ship in summertime Phoenix springs ro mind.
This consisted of two wingtip tanks, a wing pylon tank and the dart rig itself, a cumbersome target device that looked like a huge foil paper airplane that was reeled out in flight under the left wing. On a 140°F runway temperature day, the takeoff roll was spectacular and guaranteed to make a devout Christian out of even the most practised atheist.
You can joke about your 'gravel sniffers in the nose' to sense nosewheel rotation time; this situation really called for it.
I'll never forget that tyre fail speed was 239kt and at that temperature and configuration, takeoff speed was around 235.
The jet ended up clawing her way inro the air, waging a personal war with Sir Isaac Newron for every inch of altitude gained.
It was always a near thing and happiness was staggering away into the heavy summer desert air with the gear safely tucked up and the runway behind you.
All this for the privilege of letting someone shoot at you.
Landing was alway an impressive, though usually straightforward event.
The approach speed were fast by anybody's standards, but you got used to the speed just like anything else.
Normal landing configuration was with LAND (full) flap selected, and a long, flat final approach was flown at 175-180kt with touchdown at 155-160 minimum.
To the these basic speeds were added extra knots for any fuel over 1,000Ib, crosswinds, gusty winds, external stores, mother, wife, kids and so on. In short, it was not at all unusual to add 20kt to the basic speeds.
Boundary Layer ontrol (BLC) was added to the razor wings to lower landing approach and touchdown speeds with LAND flap selected. Because the BLC was only effective down to about 2 per cent engine rpm, the aircraft was unusual in that it was routinely landed with power on.
When instructing, we threatened dire consequences to the novice who pulled the power to idle prior to touchdown, since this would result in an abrupt loss of both BLC and lift, usually on one wing before the other, and at best, a bone-jarring arrival on the runway.
In reality, as long as the pilot smoothly and slowly reduced power to idle, there was no controllability problem.
Landing pattern could also be flown with TAKEOFF (half) flap configuration at slightly higher approach speeds than LAND flap, but BLC roll-off was not a factor to worry about.
A flapless landing, however, was both an emergency and a memorable experience, especially at night.
Final approach/touchdown minimum speeds were 230/195kt respectively, plus additives.
You flew a long flat final where you were going like a scalded cat and felt like you were continuously on the ragged edge of disaster. Descent rate was around 800ft per minute and we tended to fly final on a combination of both airspeed and angle-of-attack (AOA) indications.
I remember very distinctly a caution Pilot's notes that sternly warned at no time to allow the rate of descent on a flapless approach to exceed more than 2,000ft per minute as recovery would require more than 400ft of altitude.
In all cases, the aircraft was landed with crab on, and you just kicked it straight with nosewheel steering on the post-landing roll.
As you can well imagine, increased stopping power was highly desirable and provision was made for this with a big 16t diameter drag chute and an excellent anti-skid braking system.
If the e didn't work, or we had a takeoff emergency or a slippery runway, we had an arrester hook mounted under the aft fuselage that snagged a cable at the end of the runway. And if that didn't work, well then it really wasn't your day.
We almost never attempted aerodynamic braking. After all, how efficiently can you aerodynamically brake a pencil?
Stalls and spins were another flight area approached with great caution.
Due to the aerodynamics of the high 'T' tail, the aircraft was prone to a phenomenon known as pitch-up at high AOAs.
Beyond a certain point, this pitch-up was uncontrollable and resulted in severe gyration (or even tructural failure) of the aircraft and a large loss in altitude before recovery to level flight.
It was possible to develop stall angle of attack very readily and rapidly during abrupt manoeuvres, even though relatively small amounts of stabilizer were used.
In supersonic flight, the usual stall warnings were inadequate to prevent excessive AOA and an Automatic Pitch Control (APC) was therefore provided which initiated corrective action at the proper time to prevent reaching an AOA high enough to cause pitch-up under any operating condition.
These warning took the form of a stick shaker and a kicker, which abruptly kicked the stick forward.
It was, in effect, both a built-in buffet warning and an artificial tall that occurred ahead of the aerodynamic stall.
Stalls were never practised to completion; recovery action was initiated at either shaker or kicker action, depending on configuration, and stalls were never practised below 25,000ft GL.
Spins were violent, gut-wrenching manoeuvres and intentional pinning was prohibited.
A friend of mine had a wild ride one day when one of the main landing gear doors accidentally deployed in supersonic flight during air combat practice.
Although he executed a brilliant recovery, the thrill factor was so high that it was several minutes before he was capable of coherent speech.
Because of the jet's rather awesome out-of-control characteristic, pilots generally developed a phobia about flying slow in it at all. At the Weapon chool, I would routinely demonstrate a confidence zoom to zero airspeed.
Actually, it was perfectly safe under pre-ordained conditions of centre of gravity and fuel weight.
The trick was to recover very gently, using a very conservative maximum reading on the APC gauge, and rolling the aircraft towards the nearest horizon.
Ailerons were very effective well past the stall. In reality, if the pilot were just to take his hands off the controls in the vertical stall condition, the aircraft generally knew what it wanted to do better than the pilot did, and would usually recover to a recognizable flight attitude from which a full recovery could be easily made.
This would not want to be done low to the ground though.
Altitude losses in out-of-control situations in the 104 were formidable.
For example, ejection was a checklist procedure if recovery was not effected by 15,000ft AGL.
Takeoff was child's play.
You engaged nosewheel steering and plugged in the afterburner, which gave a smooth, positive light in seven stages.
The stick was just held in the neutral position until approximately 20-25 knots below the computed takeoff speed when back pressure was applied. From then on, flight was (usually) inevitable.
Throttle response was truly awesome.
Unlike some other jet aircraft, fuel control units metered JP-4 to engine and afterburner such that you never had to worry about over-temping the engine, the net result being that you could bang the throttle around as much as you wanted.
A real stop-go lever.
Also, unlike today's high bypass engines, spool-up time was very rapid; the resulting thrust changes instantaneous.
The power was thus always there when you needed it, and this was a
tremendous advantage when flying close formation, and also for making rapid corrections to airspeed in any phas of flight where this was required, such as in the landing pattern or when dropping bombs, where speed accuracy is vital.
Often, today's bypass engines produce significant delays from throttle movement to engine response, a condition that requires some forethought ro compensate for on the part of the pilot.
This was cerrainly not a problem with the 104.
I personally had the relatively unique experience of flying the jet in both temperature extremes, starting with three years as an instructor (after a long rour in Germany) in Cold Lake, Canada, where we had square tyres and -40°F weather for weeks on end in winter. We used ro joke that we had eleven months of winter and one month of bad skiing, but it wasn't far from the truth.
The good news was the remarkable effect the cold air had on jet engines.
One of the parallel runways at Cold Lake is 12,OOOft long, and I can remember that on afterburner takeoff on a -40°F day in a 'clean' (no external stores) aircraft, you could have 450kt on the clock by the end of the runway.
The most difficult part was getting the landing gear locked up by its limiting speed of 260kt after takeoff.
If you hesitated even a second after nosewheel rotation, you were going to get an overspeed.
In marked contrast to this experience were memories of operations in the Arizona desert as an exchange instrucror at the USAF/GAF Fighter Weapons School.
Over the years, I suppose I've flown just about every configuration the 104 has to offer, but as an antithesis to the clean jet in the wintertime Cold Lake, the dart-tow ship in summertime Phoenix springs ro mind.
This consisted of two wingtip tanks, a wing pylon tank and the dart rig itself, a cumbersome target device that looked like a huge foil paper airplane that was reeled out in flight under the left wing. On a 140°F runway temperature day, the takeoff roll was spectacular and guaranteed to make a devout Christian out of even the most practised atheist.
You can joke about your 'gravel sniffers in the nose' to sense nosewheel rotation time; this situation really called for it.
I'll never forget that tyre fail speed was 239kt and at that temperature and configuration, takeoff speed was around 235.
The jet ended up clawing her way inro the air, waging a personal war with Sir Isaac Newron for every inch of altitude gained.
It was always a near thing and happiness was staggering away into the heavy summer desert air with the gear safely tucked up and the runway behind you.
All this for the privilege of letting someone shoot at you.
Landing was alway an impressive, though usually straightforward event.
The approach speed were fast by anybody's standards, but you got used to the speed just like anything else.
Normal landing configuration was with LAND (full) flap selected, and a long, flat final approach was flown at 175-180kt with touchdown at 155-160 minimum.
To the these basic speeds were added extra knots for any fuel over 1,000Ib, crosswinds, gusty winds, external stores, mother, wife, kids and so on. In short, it was not at all unusual to add 20kt to the basic speeds.
Boundary Layer ontrol (BLC) was added to the razor wings to lower landing approach and touchdown speeds with LAND flap selected. Because the BLC was only effective down to about 2 per cent engine rpm, the aircraft was unusual in that it was routinely landed with power on.
When instructing, we threatened dire consequences to the novice who pulled the power to idle prior to touchdown, since this would result in an abrupt loss of both BLC and lift, usually on one wing before the other, and at best, a bone-jarring arrival on the runway.
In reality, as long as the pilot smoothly and slowly reduced power to idle, there was no controllability problem.
Landing pattern could also be flown with TAKEOFF (half) flap configuration at slightly higher approach speeds than LAND flap, but BLC roll-off was not a factor to worry about.
A flapless landing, however, was both an emergency and a memorable experience, especially at night.
Final approach/touchdown minimum speeds were 230/195kt respectively, plus additives.
You flew a long flat final where you were going like a scalded cat and felt like you were continuously on the ragged edge of disaster. Descent rate was around 800ft per minute and we tended to fly final on a combination of both airspeed and angle-of-attack (AOA) indications.
I remember very distinctly a caution Pilot's notes that sternly warned at no time to allow the rate of descent on a flapless approach to exceed more than 2,000ft per minute as recovery would require more than 400ft of altitude.
In all cases, the aircraft was landed with crab on, and you just kicked it straight with nosewheel steering on the post-landing roll.
As you can well imagine, increased stopping power was highly desirable and provision was made for this with a big 16t diameter drag chute and an excellent anti-skid braking system.
If the e didn't work, or we had a takeoff emergency or a slippery runway, we had an arrester hook mounted under the aft fuselage that snagged a cable at the end of the runway. And if that didn't work, well then it really wasn't your day.
We almost never attempted aerodynamic braking. After all, how efficiently can you aerodynamically brake a pencil?
Stalls and spins were another flight area approached with great caution.
Due to the aerodynamics of the high 'T' tail, the aircraft was prone to a phenomenon known as pitch-up at high AOAs.
Beyond a certain point, this pitch-up was uncontrollable and resulted in severe gyration (or even tructural failure) of the aircraft and a large loss in altitude before recovery to level flight.
It was possible to develop stall angle of attack very readily and rapidly during abrupt manoeuvres, even though relatively small amounts of stabilizer were used.
In supersonic flight, the usual stall warnings were inadequate to prevent excessive AOA and an Automatic Pitch Control (APC) was therefore provided which initiated corrective action at the proper time to prevent reaching an AOA high enough to cause pitch-up under any operating condition.
These warning took the form of a stick shaker and a kicker, which abruptly kicked the stick forward.
It was, in effect, both a built-in buffet warning and an artificial tall that occurred ahead of the aerodynamic stall.
Stalls were never practised to completion; recovery action was initiated at either shaker or kicker action, depending on configuration, and stalls were never practised below 25,000ft GL.
Spins were violent, gut-wrenching manoeuvres and intentional pinning was prohibited.
A friend of mine had a wild ride one day when one of the main landing gear doors accidentally deployed in supersonic flight during air combat practice.
Although he executed a brilliant recovery, the thrill factor was so high that it was several minutes before he was capable of coherent speech.
Because of the jet's rather awesome out-of-control characteristic, pilots generally developed a phobia about flying slow in it at all. At the Weapon chool, I would routinely demonstrate a confidence zoom to zero airspeed.
Actually, it was perfectly safe under pre-ordained conditions of centre of gravity and fuel weight.
The trick was to recover very gently, using a very conservative maximum reading on the APC gauge, and rolling the aircraft towards the nearest horizon.
Ailerons were very effective well past the stall. In reality, if the pilot were just to take his hands off the controls in the vertical stall condition, the aircraft generally knew what it wanted to do better than the pilot did, and would usually recover to a recognizable flight attitude from which a full recovery could be easily made.
This would not want to be done low to the ground though.
Altitude losses in out-of-control situations in the 104 were formidable.
For example, ejection was a checklist procedure if recovery was not effected by 15,000ft AGL.