The ground looks big, and it's getting bigger fast. At 450 knots and a 30-degree dive angle, our Navy T–45 Goshawk is closing in on the series of concentric rings that mark ground zero on the Texas bombing range. The altimeter is unwinding faster than a broken watch spring, and turbulent air rising off the sun-parched ground pokes and jabs at the jet.
Lt. Cmdr. Doug Martin steadies the nose, edging the bombsight cross hairs on to the target. At 3,300 feet a tone in my headset signals weapon release, and an instant later Martin is pulling hard on the stick. The dive bottoms out at 1,900 feet and becomes a steep climbing turn. My G suit squeezes my legs and stomach in a slow-motion vise grip as the cockpit G meter inches past 5. A few seconds later we're on our backs as Martin smoothly rolls onto downwind at 8,000 feet. Over my shoulder I can see another T–45 from our flight of four just coming off target, a puff of white smoke marking the impact point of its 25-pound Mk-76 practice bomb. And then it's our turn all over again in the fast-moving pattern. Each jet makes eight runs before the bombs are gone and we join up to return to base.
Welcome to Naval Air Station Kingsville, Texas, home to the U.S. Navy's Training Air Wing Two. Or, as the acronym-loving Navy calls it, TRAWING 2. Think you have what it takes to fly "pointy nose" strike jets? Chances are good that you'll be spending time here on your way to finding out. Comprising two training squadrons, VT-21 and VT-22, TRAWING 2 is where more than 200 of the Navy and Marine's top student aviators come every year to learn to fly high-performance jet aircraft. (A sister operation, TRAWING 1 located at NAS Meridian, Mississippi, offers similar training.) If all goes well, they will have earned their coveted Wings of Gold nine months later. After that, they will be on their way to operational assignments, flying tactical aircraft such as the F–14 Tomcat or F/A–18 Hornet.
But first you have to earn the right to be here. There are several pathways leading to jet training at NAS Kingsville. For a civilian, though, the first step is to apply for a slot as a student naval aviator. Assuming that you have the physical and mental aptitude to be accepted, you next have to make it through primary flight training. The majority of this training takes place at NAS Whiting Field in Pensacola, Florida, and is conducted in the Beech T–34C Mentor turboprop aircraft. (The new JPATS "Texan II" will begin to replace the venerable T–34C as the Navy's primary trainer, as it is phased in over the next several years.) When primary training is complete, you will have about 66 hours of flight time. At this point the pilot class is split up among several different aviation career tracks. Besides the jet aircraft "pipeline," a naval aviator could also be assigned to carrier-based propeller aircraft, maritime patrol aircraft, or helicopters. In order to be considered for tactical jets, though, you need to finish in the top half of your primary class. Where you go next is based on the needs of the Navy, your class ranking, and your own personal preference, in that order.
According to TRAWING 2's commodore, Capt. Richard McCollum, a person's past successes in life are often good predictors of how well that person may fare in naval flight training. College grades and success at sports or other organized activities are all useful in determining if someone has what it takes to succeed. "It's the ultimate in team sports," says McCollum, adding that naval aviation "has a whole lot of moving parts." A cooperate-and-graduate attitude is an essential mindset for anyone thinking of applying.
Assuming that you can jump through all the appropriate hoops and have been selected to fly jets, what comes next? At NAS Kingsville, your life will revolve around the "T–45 TS (for total system) Strike Flight Curriculum." This is the Navy's integrated undergraduate jet training system. It consists of flight and simulator sessions, computer-based training, intensive ground lectures, and a full-court-press preparation for each day's lessons. If a student isn't sleeping or eating, he or she is getting ready for a training event. According to Chief Staff Officer Cmdr. Bill "Herk" Hirko, it is not uncommon for a student to spend six to eight hours of study preparing for the next day's scheduled training activities. On paper the course numbers break down like this: 94 simulator hours and 156 flight hours, nearly 110 of which are dual instruction, with the rest solo flight. A typical one-hour flight is usually prefaced with a two- to three-hour briefing, followed by a similarly detailed debriefing. Mixed in with these events are about 190 hours of formal lectures.
The program covers a range of subjects that build upon each other in progressively more complex ways. In the first half of their training, students concentrate on basic skills such as flying the T–45 on instruments and in two- and four-ship formations. They also study emergency procedures and learn how to recover the T–45 from uncontrolled flight. Later stages introduce students to skills and tactics they will hone during their first tactical jet assignments. These include air combat maneuvering, bombing, and gunnery, examples of which we experienced in a series of observation flights during our visit. All of this training leads up to the Big One—landing on and taking off from an aircraft carrier.
The program is intentionally difficult, for the Navy learned a long time ago that it is better to find out early if someone isn't cut out to fly jets from a ship. According to McCollum, the attrition rate for the select group picked for the T–45 program averages between 12 and 15 percent. "It can be tough sitting across the table from some young person and telling him he's being dropped, but it's necessary. It's someone who probably never faced failure in his entire life, someone used to succeeding." If the problem is with a particular skill unique to strike aircraft, the student may be reassigned to another aviation pipeline such as maritime patrol. But if the problem cuts across aircraft lines, such as difficulty maintaining situational awareness, the student will not be offered an aviation career track. "Remember, though, they are student aviators, not student officers," adds McCollum. "If flying isn't their thing, we'll work with them to find a different warfare specialty that they can succeed at in the Navy."
During a candid conversation with members of an incoming class, it was clear that the newest group felt up to the challenge. They came from well-known military institutions such as the Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland, and civilian schools such as Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University and Purdue University. With primary naval flight training already behind them, they had a pretty good idea of what to expect at Kingsville. "Every training event is really a checking event," one observed. "We know the instructors are out to down us, and it's our job not to let them." But as another student pointed out, "There aren't many places in the world that let you solo a high-performance jet after just 80 or 90 hours of total flight time." Despite the high pressure, the flying is why they are here. Marine Corps 2nd Lt. (and AOPA member) James "Spunky" Janay, already a number of months into the program, summed up what a lot of the students—new and old—obviously felt. "It's a tough, challenging environment, but it can be a lot of fun too."
My three-day visit to Kingsville started with a physical exam and a checkout in the Martin-Baker Navy Aircrew Common Ejection Seat, or NACES. The name derives from the fact that it is used on various other Navy aircraft besides the T–45. Aviation Safety Specialist Becky "Sparky" Bates (her call sign has something to do with an incident involving TNT, Navy SEALS, and a fire she unintentionally started) gave the briefing. The seat is capable of safely ejecting both crewmembers, even from a zero-altitude and -airspeed situation. "You'll live to fly another day, although it might not be the same day," Bates told us. The seat is armed during the taxi checklist and disarmed after landing and clear of the runway. Following the checkout it was off to the Aviator's Equipment Supply room, where Pilot photographer Mike Fizer and I were issued flight suits, boots, G suits, and helmets. The G suit automatically inflates during G loading, applying pressure to a pilot's legs and abdomen. This helps to keep the blood supply from draining into the legs and away from the brain. The suit increases one's tolerance of G forces by about one and one-half Gs.
Next was a visit to one of the six T–45 simulators that run nearly full time at the base. The instructor selected a demo mode, allowing us to witness a properly executed carrier catapult launch, followed by a touch and go, and finally an arrested landing on the "boat."
The T–45 is a 15,000-pound maximum gross weight two-seat trainer powered by a single Rolls-Royce turbofan engine rated at 5,527 pounds of thrust. Its thrust-to-weight ratio, and thus its performance, is not as stellar as those of the tactical jets used in the fleet. Nevertheless it is a highly capable trainer that demands the full attention of the students who fly it. It can withstand more than seven sustained Gs and three negative Gs. Most control surfaces are hydraulically powered, and full-span leading-edge slats are used for improved low-speed flight. In level flight the T–45 is typically flown at speeds of up to Mach 0.85. It is able to hit Mach 1.05 in a powered dive, but poor longitudinal stability characteristics at higher speeds make this highly inadvisable. According to the flight manual, less than three pounds of stick force applied at speeds above Mach 0.87 can result in "G excursions" of up to three Gs, which could overstress the aircraft during dive recovery.
There are two versions of the aircraft, the T–45A and T–45C. The A model uses traditional round-dial instruments, whereas the C version employs electronic multifunction flight displays similar to those used on the F/A–18. The T–45C is not currently flown at NAS Kingsville.
A student can excel at nearly every skill but won't receive his or her wings until after completing Carrier Qualification, or CARQUAL. As stated with indisputable logic in the Naval Air Training Command's Carrier Qualification manual for the T–45, "What sets a Navy-trained jet pilot apart from all other pilots is the ability to land a jet aircraft precisely and safely on a carrier deck." CARQUAL entails making 14 graded landings on the boat, 10 of which must be "traps" to a full stop. Every one, even the first, is flown solo. Night carrier landings, accomplished once a pilot is sent to a fleet assignment, are the Holy Grail of aviation, widely accepted as the most challenging and dangerous procedure regularly practiced in jet aircraft, period.
CARQUAL takes place during an intense two-day period at the very end of the curriculum. According to Marine Corps 1st Lt. Robert "Willy Pete" Peterson, "You train for the ship on every landing, but the first time you actually do it is just amazing. It's hard to describe the feeling." Peterson's CARQUAL memories were fresh, for he received his Wings of Gold just two weeks before my visit. With new orders in hand, he'll soon be on his way to fly the F/A–18 at NAS Miramar in California. Classmate Navy Lt. j.g. Brian "Digger" Graves echoed his sentiments. "I had a few bolters before I got my first trap, so it felt incredibly good when the hook finally caught. It was just awesome."
All of which lends credence to the "dare you to prove me wrong" billboard standing outside the entrance to NAS Kingsville. It reads simply, "The best pilots in the world aren't born. They're trained here."
Links to additional information about naval aviation training may be found on AOPA Online ( www.aopa.org/pilot/links/links0009.shtml). The NAS Kingsville homepage may be found at http://206.37.142.251/index.html. Vincent Czaplyski holds ATP and CFI certificates. He flies as a Boeing 757 captain for a major U.S. airline.
It takes a team
A backseat observation of an air-to-air gunnery flight proved conclusively why naval aviation is all about teamwork. The mission began with a flight of four T–45 aircraft lined up for takeoff at NAS Kingsville, Texas. Earlier, another T–45 called the "tractor" had departed, towing a bright orange banner behind a 1,000-foot-long cable. The plan was for us to meet up with the tractor in a military operations area over the Gulf of Mexico.
Lt. Ben "Jammin'" Hansen flew lead, and shortly after takeoff the other three aircraft joined up on us and we headed to the MOA. As briefed, the tractor would maintain a constant heading, an airspeed of 175 knots, and an altitude of 10,000 feet, allowing the shooters to form a complex, highly dynamic gunnery pattern known as "the squirrel cage" around it. This would give the Navy the most bang for its training buck, allowing a continuous, closely spaced number of gunnery opportunities.
To visualize the squirrel cage, imagine a lopsided three-dimensional figure eight, with one loop starting at 10,000 feet and the other at 15,000 feet. Now imagine that the pattern is constantly changing position over the ground as the target moves along its track. Then place four fast-moving jets in the pattern, crisscrossing each other with close separation, lots of radio chatter, traffic scanning, checks of airspeed and the target's relative position, and a host of other changing variables, and you begin to get a sense of the pilots' workloads in this exercise.
As the other aircraft fell in trail of our own, Jammin' started the pattern by accelerating to 350 knots and lining up close abeam the left side of the tractor. Passing the aircraft, he commenced a hard turning pull-up to the right, crossing in front of the tractor and reaching 15,000 feet headed in the opposite direction to the towed target. Next came the high reverse, a left turn that placed us back on the same heading as the tractor and behind it, at a point in the pattern called the perch. Now we were in position for our first gunnery pass. From the perch, Jammin' began the "low reverse" turn toward the target, beginning a diving tracking run to line up. Pulling in astern, he fired a quick burst (gun camera only, no real bullets) before turning to pass close by the tractor on the left and starting the pattern all over again. The other aircraft followed suit, allowing each pilot 10 or so chances to attack.
This was the last Navy flight for Jammin,' whose instructor tour was ending, and who was scheduled to be in ground school with a major airline a few days after our flight. Back on the ramp, he was thoroughly soaked with buckets of water from well-wishing fellow instructors as he climbed down from the jet. — VC
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