Crash and Burn

Maui - photo by JoAnn Sturman

W.R. Priskna
fliesinyoureyes.com

In 1939 Antoine de Saint Exupery, an aviation pioneer and author, published a true short story entitled “Prisoner of the Sand” in his book Wind, Sand, and Stars. The book is a series of true aviation stories written by a man hailed by some as the French Joseph Conrad. Beginning in 1935 he flew for Air France and was assigned the Paris to Saigon route. The itinerary was divided into segments of 3-4 hours of flying time, and during much of the flight there was no radio communication. His aircraft was powered by a single engine propeller engine and equipped with only an altimeter, airspeed indicator, compass, and artificial horizon.

His mission proceeded uneventfully from Paris to Benghazi, Libya. The next leg of the flight for him and his only crew mate continued east 650 miles to Cairo. It was a moonless night flight over an uninhabited stretch of the Sahara Desert. Tail winds of 25 miles per hour and clear weather were forecast. The computed ground speed was calculated to be 190 miles per hour which would place the aircraft midway between Alexandria and Cairo in 3 hours and 20 minutes – 3 hours and 45 minutes if the winds were calm. If Exupery happened to miss seeing the lights of these two cities, then he would be able to see the unmistakable north-south oriented lights along the Nile River.

At three hours into the flight while cruising at 6000 feet the crew encountered unexpected clouds which enveloped the airplane and obscured the ground. Exupery climbed to 7500 feet and then descended to 3000 feet but was unable to break free of the clouds. He flew for another thirty minutes on an easterly heading but was unable to see any lights on the ground. At 4 hours and 5 minutes into the flight and running low on fuel he turned north and began a slow decent, preferring to attempt a crash landing over the Mediterranean Sea rather than the desert. By this time he did not know if he was east or west of the Nile River or over land or water. At 4 hours and 15 minutes and flying at 1200 feet altitude he and his crewman saw a light ...

Captain Roberts and I were flying east of Tucson when we received a call that an A-7 was reported down in the Chiricahua Mountains near the Arizona-New Mexico border. No parachute was sighted, and the aircraft was last seen heading for the ground at a steep angle. When alerted for an emergency air rescue, one never knows what to expect at the crash site. The first and foremost concern is to find the pilot. However, these were the days before GPS, so rescue pilots relied on general coordinates for the crash location given by other observers. In rugged, mountainous terrain it could be surprisingly difficult to find a downed airman if he were unable to make radio contact or use a signal flare. Smoke from a burning airplane, a parachute, or aircraft debris could be difficult to spot from a distance.

Within a half an hour we approached the area and began a search pattern. A few charred mesquite trees were the only clue to the location of the accident site. We landed nearby and searched the area on foot. The A-7 had crashed vertically at over 500 knots airspeed, so much of the airplane was buried in the mountainside with only small metal fragments scattered on the ground. The stench and swarms of flies were unforgettable. Around the impact site were thousands of pieces of flesh no larger than a fingernail. It was a grisly reminder of the risks pilots take, and the price they pay for mistakes.

Later that year I was flying north of Tucson and received a call regarding an F-5 crash south of Phoenix. The Vietnamese colonel at the controls of the fighter was flying at 40,000 feet when he reported experiencing a severe aircraft control malfunction. He radioed over the emergency aviation frequency that he was ejecting immediately. Lt. “Crash” Johnson and I arrived in the area within a few minutes. We spotted the parachute on the ground and retrieved the colonel unharmed. Before returning to base we spent a few minutes searching for the F-5, expecting to find the smoldering remnants of an airplane that impaled the ground at a high velocity from 40,000 feet. Instead, we found a fighter that looked perfectly intact from our airborne perspective. It was as if the airplane had landed itself after the pilot bailed out due to what he thought was an uncontrollable situation. I'll never forget the expression on the colonel's face when we landed and found a virtually undamaged aircraft. He had some explaining to do.

...At the same instant Exupery and his crew member saw the light in the distance they hit the ground at 170 miles per hour. As the airplane was gradually descending it struck the ground on the top of a mesa whose flat surface was oriented at the same angle as the trajectory of the airplane's flight path. Fortunately the ground surface was covered with small, round pebbles which acted like ball bearings and cushioned the impact. The airplane was destroyed, but both aviators were unscathed. In aviation some are lucky and some are not, but no two crashes are the same. Exupery survived the crash, but the remainder of his survival story had just begun.