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Helos are boring? A mini-adventure


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The following is a fictional account but is typical of a flown virtual combat mission in many a helo simulator.

 

 

Flying Helicopters sounds boring - he said?

 

It was a passing comment I'd heard the night before. It was now dawn. Time to get ready, close the hatch and go through the final checklist. We had the maps out looking for every barn, pocket, saddle, tree line all the way from the FARP chemical toilets to the assembly area. In the end we picked a soft route, three valley turns. Cyc is leading for this one as he is, by his own admission, "by far the best navigator" among us. One river, fork left at the road bridge (which marks a guesstimated fence line), continue down the valley for 5km and a village marks the final turn into a box canyon where, we are informed, is the location of a munitions store and "high value" personnel. "High value" personnel is a phrase that couldn't be apllied to anyone in this brigade, the only thing of high value around here is a cigarette machine liberated on a recent furlow with the help of some 51st engineers during a daring (and shall we say high-spirited?) night raid.

 

We are to link up with a second tasked flight at waypoint 003, arrival time is critical. Flight Lima should be taking off in a few minutes, our task is to clear the road, keep our heads low and reach the designated rendezvous on time, take up positions around the target area and prevent anything from leaving it, intact. That was the exact word specified and we knew what that meant. Surprise and swiftness was called for.

 

Hatch closed, batteries on, inverters on, engine starter on, start left engine, check the gas temp, good, start right engine, radio check.

 

"Echo two, engine one good, pressure good, generator running , radio check you copy?"

 

There was a long pause.

 

"One here copy. I can't read this handwriting."

 

"Love letter from your crew chief?" I ragged. I could guess what it was.

 

"Was there supposed to be a comma in there somewhere or are you looking to go sightseeing?"

 

"Two, wouldn't be the first time, engine two good. Nav mode set." Cyc had an unerring ability to plan routes that challenged the fuel supply. Particularly when leaking it all over the landscape after over flying some crazy farmer armed with nothing more than a ZSU. He was good at finding those, it was a one sided attraction which even extended to museum visits when one nearly ran him over at a military vehicle parade, I'd forgotten that.

 

"One ready for take off"

 

"Two copy. Two final checks complete, ready for take off", I gave my usual thumb-up with my left hand, I never let go of the cyclic with the engines running at idle on the ground, superstition. If I ever did, it will be that one time when a freak gust of wind will cause the blades to flap too hard and tip the whole frame over, that's the trouble with training, even when you don't believe it, you believe it.

 

After 5 minutes of making sure we got everything good to go, it was time to go and see how we could mess it all up. I heard Cyc's rotors bite the air hard, a flapping sound and sudden roar of increased engine noise was leaking into my own cockpit and through my steel helmet.

 

"One positive rate, transitioning clear, vector waypoint one, maintain one zero zero at nine zero. Gear up"

 

"Two copy vector waypoint one maintain one zero zero at nine zero," I replied in our shorthand just to confirm I'd understood. The collective needed a gentle hand, with a lot of power available in this machine it would be a mistake to treat this like some lightweight civilian turbine. The engine RPM twitched as the advancing blades, now a blur above me, mashed into the morning air. Small pillows of dust mixed with morning dew and hot gas swirled around my canopy in angry fashion. The mass of the fully loaded Kamov rose up and began to pivot on it's nosewheel, the familiar motion of being tipped forward in my seat, I pulled the cyclic toward me and very gently added just a little more collective. And then motion of take-off, the wheels were free, bob, sway, making little adjustments all the time, not thinking, just doing. "To be is to do, to do is to be", I think it was Satra, or was it Frank Sinatra? Amazing how the mind can wander at crazy moments.

 

"Two positive rate, site clear."

 

Letting go of the collective to reach for the gear lever, I thought about cigarettes. The red strobe light on the belly reflected back off nearby trees and tents around the FARP. Now I was tense. The first leg was a long slow ride with little cover so we hogged the west bank of the shallow river valley, racing to pick up speed.

 

"One, go spread"

 

I was already tailing by 300m, my lead wasn't watching his speed and already I was doing 160 cruising, I don't say anything but fly catch-up and watch my altitude. Flying an NOE profile certainly wasn't warranted, a low level profile at tree-top height was adequate. I cross over to the other side of the narrow river valley which had a 30 degree dogleg to the right 3km ahead. On the turn I was behind but on the inside so we would be entering the dogleg at the same time, just as we planned it.

 

Settling into the mental slot I have behind my lead I take time to program the dispenser, 2 cycles of 2 flares, 2 seconds between them released from both wing pods. This was my preferred 222 program, capable of burning down even the most flame retardant of tractor sheds at this altitude, and on the rare occasions I'm allowed out with a wingman it scares the crap out of them.

 

"One crossing the fence", hard to get out of old habits, we still called it the fence. The little red line we'd programmed on the ABRIS moving map display might have well been labelled "beyond there be dragons". There was a possibility of an armed recon moving up this far, no contact reports had been received. All the same, Shkval on, weapon master arm on, laser heated up and on standby.

 

Looking ahead though the green hud and framed by the flight path marker was the bridge marking our first waypoint turn just 1km ahead. The lead helicopter popped a flare, then another and another in sequence masking his hard left turn into the bank. His shadow came up to meet him then he vanished in the mass of white smoke that billowed around the valley floor from his counter measures. The smoke was pierced by a black dart trailing a thin white thread if it's own. It past right between us and I heard the thud of a muffled explosion.

 

"MISSILE! Break break, ummph that was close", cracked the radio, a little late, so he didn't just smack the ground after all. Leaning forward to get a better view ahead I broke through the smoke and sure enough the tell tale signs of a manpad right next to the bridge, nearby a small vehicle of some kind. Thumbing my cyclic out of instinct, I brought up my rockets, selected a salvo size, slight right pedal input to put the aim point over the dot and...release. WhuumpWhuumpWhuump. And release again ... WhuumpWhuumpWhuump. Black smoke and flame bellowed around the bridge, lost sight of the little sod.

 

"Two engaging" I said, it occured to me Cyc might want to know I was being all heroic in that curious tactic we'd honed so well over the past few months, by letting the bad guys take shots at him while I get to shoot back. Once again my mouth lagged behind my trigger finger. Some things never change.

 

There was burst of tracer fire, the sound of impacts on my airframe was follwed by a secondary explosion up ahead.

 

"Taking fire!" I yelled. The river valley was shallow except a step where the road bridge crossed it, stupid to continue on so I broke right for the nearest ground cover, up and over the top of the valley, I started my dispenser program.

 

"Two looking for cover, egressing to the east", I said, impressed with myself for how calm it sounded after my initial supprise.

 

"Copy that" came the reply, "I think you got the launcher, the bridge isn't there anymore". I heard more impacts strike the rear of my ship, something was tagging me as I crested the top of the valley and nosed down banking hard right. Once clear I was kicking hard right pedal and pitching to bleeding off airspeed, which is harder than it sounds as this Kamov does tend to like flying backwards, sideways, any which way you like at speed without much complaint. It's at times like this that gravity and your own rotors are your worst enemy, it's drilled into you by your IP and you learn to be paranoid, for the next few seconds are focused totally on three things at once, the ground, my atitude and the rate of descent indicator or VSI which I am now flying. If it goes above -3 mps I am simply going into the dirt here and now, there is no room here to slip out of my own descending air cushion. A common mistake here would be to add power in anticipation of increased demand which would only make things worse. However my mother would have been proud at my sense of self preservation now given my reckless regard for it a short time earlier. Settling into a stable hover it was clear that there was no major damage.

 

Cyc was taking position on the opposite side of the valley, "Two are you good?"

 

"Affirmative, we're good. There's a gun near that bridge but I couldn't see it, took some hits in the tail, probable ZSU".

 

"Rodger that, I nearly got one in the face. You did a number on that bridge."

 

I wasn't sure if that was a complement, "I wasn't aiming at the bridge" I said in reply. I check the wind data from the nav computer to confirm my suspicions, nope, "I really am a lousy shot" I mutter.

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This our hobby - not our job - if we are not having a laugh, we're doing it wrong. - Rats

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"Hold your position two I'm going to take a look. ORT to scan". Hover hold mode engaged I took my hands and feet off the controls partly to set-up for a missile engagement but also to loosen up after the unexpected start to the morning. The sweeping image on the TV was a mass of grey clutter as the TV camera in the nose swept left and right past scrub, trees, the occasional structure and sky. Although masked by the top of the shallow valley it would have been all too easy to get tagged were I careless enough to climb too high. It was time to move and not get pinned down, a combat helicopter has the advantage of mobility but not speed, the clock was still ticking.

 

"Two, I'm going to extend and circle around"

 

"One copy that, stay low, I'm poping up for a look"

 

Flipping off hover hold and clearing stick trim I take full authority of the helicopter, pitch down and race away at near ground level along the top of the valley back in the direction we came from. After about 800m of travel I announce my intention to cross the valley and rejoin my lead. As a precaution my 222 countermeasure program was called upon as I dipped over the top and crossed the river to the other side.

 

My flight lead spoke once more, "Taking fire!", Cyc is not a person who panics, he just sounded irritated. Out to my right I could see tracer fire coming from just beyond what was now the burning remains of the bridge, it was hard to see the vehicle.

 

"Two, target sighted, masked ZSU north flank of, er, bridge", clearly my lead was too close for a safe engagement, knowing this would not stop him for doing something stupid it was time to deal with it. "Two setting up attack, keep your head down and watch the fireworks".

 

Outside the range of the ZSU it was a one sided fight but we are now delayed and the potential for surprise greatly diminished, a mission failure wouldn't go down too well. I pulled my nose up and pedal turned toward the target dropping airspeed close to zero, once again flying the vsi as airspeed fell through three zero. The next minute and a half was going to be busy, the autopilot was tasked once again to hold position so I could have at least one hand free. The little green circles of the helmet mounted sight were locked off right over the suspected ZSU location, a ground stabilised image of the back end of the vechicle appeared on the ORT. HMS off, relock, seeker nudged to centre it on the TV. The bracket was adjusted until a positive track was indicated. Missile ready, the larger circle converged with the designator in the HUD, "Spot on, range two decimal three, release missile away"...the tell-tale spiral of the spin stabilised missile exhaust blinded the TV, I could see this going wrong, the spot wasn't quite on target the missile was going to fall short, I unlocked my target and thumbed the mini-stick moving the spot upward hoping that the new spot behind the ZSU would flatten the trajectory. The missile went right through the turret.

 

"Dusted the little bugger", I said.

 

"Ruined a perfectly good bridge"

 

"Well I'm in a bad mood, I'm out of cigarettes".

 

"I'll scan the area, reform. We need to pick up the pace, we're behind our TOS"

 

I had to ask, "Can we expect anymore surprises?" He wouldn't say.

This our hobby - not our job - if we are not having a laugh, we're doing it wrong. - Rats

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