BAD ASS Military PICS (No gore please)

[Z06killinsbf]

Just FYI, that guy holding the cards has no clue what he's doing, lol.

He'll no he doesn't. We never ever practiced for a helo transfer.

SSGN's (still boomers) carry conventional weapons and Seals.
SSBN's "possibly" carry nuclear weapons.

[Darren M]

I've got a ton of pictures from my deployments but I don't think they're "bad ass" lol

Your service alone is bad ass, Sir. Post em.

[pHILSANITY07]

whats the deepest depth of the sub? is that classified?

[Z06killinsbf]

In excess of 100ft.:wink1:

[pHILSANITY07]

Your service alone is bad ass, Sir. Post em.

agreed, I dont have any photos but my dad has some I think from all the air shows we have been to in the past.

[txsr20de]

Here is the article about the sub transfer, he said it was pretty tense for a few minutes until they were able to establish comms.

Keep in mind this was published in a Naval safety magazine, so it isn't as exciting as combat stories, but I thought it was still pretty interesting, my BIL gets to do some cool shit.

The Entire Plan


After a refreshing port call in Pusan, South Korea, we expected operations as usual, with plane guard, the occasional log run to the battle-group ships, or the always exciting ASW exercise. As we settled into our plane-guard rotation, we received tasking that an Army general wanted a demonstration of naval-helicopter capabilities, with HS-6 playing a central role.

The plan was to hoist the general and his staff from a submarine deck and take him to Gimhae International Airport. Although this task is common practice for HS squadrons, our JOs thought this event had too much risk and visibility for junior officers to lead. We had heard the crew would be a department head and a senior JO aircraft commander, so, as a non-HAC (helicopter-aircraft commander) at the time, my dream of Hunt-for-Red-October-like glory was crushed: I was not selected. But, I knew plans often change, and I still had a sliver of hope of getting the call to take the general into Pusan.

Sure enough, operational commitments and crewrest requirements thrust me back into the mix. After I returned from an afternoon plane-guard flight, our operations officer approached me with the good news. The executive officer and I would fly the submarinetransfer event.

The transfer plan was simple. We would approach the sub and conduct a recce pass over the deck to make sure the winds were in limits, the deck was clear, and the sub crew was ready to support the operation. Once satisfied we could perform the task, we would make our approach to the sub's stern, establish a hover over the deck, and hoist one of our aircrewmen to the deck. He then would prep the general and his staff for their trip to Pusan. All this planning had been completed by another pilot, which was nice, so I focused entirely on learning the intricacies of getting the general into the helicopter.

As we briefed the mission, I couldn't help but think of all the potential pitfalls that might occur during the flight. What if we could not find the submarine? What if the rescue hoist malfunctioned? What if we lost an engine over the deck? Each of these details, and countless others, were briefed indepth to make sure the crew knew the plan and were ready for any contingency.

After sitting down with the XO for the copilotonly brief, his first words to me were, "The submarine transfer will be easy; all we are doing is hovering. Our biggest challenge is going to be the flight into Pusan." Being the nugget that I am, I was puzzled, so I quizzically nodded my head and asked him exactly what he was talking about. He replied, "Comms."

The submarine transfer went as planned. In a little more than 15 minutes, we successfully had hoisted our swimmer to the deck of the submarine, and brought him back, along with the general and his staff. As we departed, I pulled out the chart and silently reviewed our Pusan entrance strategy. We were presented with a number of challenges. The first was establishing radio communications with the Korean approach controllers without violating international airspace. For those unfamiliar with the topography of Pusan, mountains line the entire eastern side of the city, with the airfield located in a valley on the western side.

The approach end of the runway was to the south, with mountains lining the western side of Gimhae. This topography effectively prevented us from crossing to the other side to gain radar contact. Our plan was to stay outside of any airspace, climb as needed as needed prn. See prn order. to establish communications, and receive clearance into the bustling international airport. We had a good plan in theory, but with the limitations presented by sometimes spotty H-60 radios and a language barrier with Korean controllers, we ran the risk of circling off the coast of South Korea with no comms, a general onboard, and limited fuel.

THIS SCENARIO UNFOLDED. As we approached from the east, I dutifully switched our radios to the appropriate frequencies and tried to contact approach. After 15 minutes of calls, where we could hear the controllers communicating with everyone but us, we decided we might just be a little too far away and not high enough, so we climbed and did a couple of circles--still nothing. In the distance, I began to make out the city of Pusan as we inched closer and closer.

I reexamined our chart, in the hopes I may have missed a potential break in the mountains or the airspace during the planning. I nervously wondered why no one could hear us. We called again--nothing. We continued our quest to gain radio comms with approach and decided it would be more logical to maintain our altitude and get closer to land. Once again--nothing. Few situations in aviation are more frustrating than being unable to establish radio communications. We were a few miles off the coast of a foreign country, doing circles. No one acknowledged our radio calls. We were exactly where we had briefed that we did not want to be. The XO's concerns had come true.

Although we weren't worried about fuel, everyone was becoming increasingly frustrated with our situation. After all the briefing and ORM considerations, something normally routine, like comms, had the potential to derail what was an otherwise successful mission. After 30 more minutes changing our radio configuration, troubleshooting, changing altitudes, and preparing for the possibility of a lost-comm arrival into Gimhae, we gained contact with approach control via Gimhae's tower frequency. We were cleared into the airport for our passenger transfer and then returned to USS Nimitz (CVN-68) without incident.

It's easy to overlook the small details that might derail a successful mission. With the complexity of the submarine transfer and the intensive crew coordination required for its execution, it seemed natural the transfer could present the most problems. But it is important not to bore-sight on any one part of any mission, no matter the complexity. Focus was my primary mistake. Because of my excitement about getting to go on the mission, and the fact that another pilot had done all the planning, I had neglected to consider the entire plan and understand other potential trouble areas, which is an important step in the ORM process.

From startup to shutdown, each flight has infinite dangers we cannot afford to overlook or get complacent about, as I did in the brief. We constantly must be alert to potential difficulties before they present a hazardous situation and put lives in danger. My story is a benign example dealing with radio communications and a lack of foresight. I was fortunate to have had an experienced flight crew teach me this lesson.

Lt. Pangrac flies with HS-6.

[helosailor]

Here is the article about the sub transfer, he said it was pretty tense for a few minutes until they were able to establish comms.

Keep in mind this was published in a Naval safety magazine, so it isn't as exciting as combat stories, but I thought it was still pretty interesting, my BIL gets to do some cool shit.

I bet that was a hairy situation for a while. Never seems to fail when there's a VIP onboard. I was with HS-14 and flew as maintenance crew from time to time. One incident that sticks out in my mind was when we were departing Pearl Harbor, we were flying channel guard for the carrier (USS Independence). As I was doing my scan, I spotted a small helicopter (Robinson R-44) approaching. We couldn't get him on comms and the carrier couldn't either. It was kind of weird to hear them (the carrier) say "You are an unauthorized aircraft, approaching a U.S. Navy warship. If you do not divert course immediately, we will be forced to defend ourselves.". Still no response from them. Finally Honolulu tower called them on the "guard" frequency, which we had already tried. They told them that they were instructed to divert course and land immediately at Honolulu and await proceed to the FAA supervisor on duty. The only reply anyone ever heard from the R-44 was them saying "Roger, Honolulu".

[SC457A]

before i die, or at least before they get rid of the program I want to go to vegas and watch Red Flag and all the planes takeoff and land at Nellis AFB

In 2001, I was racing at The Strip in Vegas and got to watch the planes do this very thing. ( I assume was Red Flag).

After the sun went down there was a line of planes with landing lights on coming over the mountains. Was so cool to see them leave and return.