Cover Up

Morocco - photo by JoAnn Sturman

W.R. Priskna
fliesinyoureyes.com

Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power.
Abraham Lincoln16th president of US (1809 - 1865)

By all accounts Colonel Davenport was destined to be a general. Following graduation from West Point, he was commissioned in the Air Force, completed pilot training, and spent his career flying for the Strategic Air Command. Along the way his superiors recognized his abilities and promoted him well ahead of his cohorts. He now led one of the ultra prestigious U-2 spy plane wings whose commanders ultimately wore stars on their shoulders. All seemed well with Colonel Davenport, but he didn't count on Lt. “Crash” Johnson.

In the Air Force pecking order U-2 pilots were at the top of the pyramid. These pilots were the cream of the cream and participated in super secretive missions over hostile territory. The flights lasted for countless hours and took them into the stratosphere where they avoided detection and took pictures of the high value military targets. While strutting around the base, they wore distinctive orange flight suits as opposed to the subdued olive drab of other pilots.

Lowest in the Air Force aviation hierarchy were the Huey helicopter pilots who flew low to the ground for two hours at a time and hauled toiletries and similar commodities to the Titan missile silos that ringed the Tucson area.

By some fluke the Huey and the U-2 sections were combined administratively in the same wing. Oscar and Felix, the odd couple, melded together under one command but never interacting. The U-2 operations center was a state of the art facility while ours was a forty foot trailer cooled with a swamp cooler. The two sections were located a couple miles apart, so the staff never interacted unless we spied an orange flight suit at the officers' club. There was nothing in common except our service to the Strategic Air Command and a commander who signed our efficiency reports.

When Lt. Johnson, co-pilot of the UH-1, spotted the Rio Grande River valley south of Albuquerque, he tipped the cyclic forward and descended to ten feet above the ground. He was following Captain Roberts' helicopter which was a half a mile ahead flying at his two o'clock position at 100 knots. Both helicopter crews were ferrying their aircraft to Arizona from North Dakota where they had undergone major renovations. The clear visibility and smooth flight conditions were ideal for low level flying which transformed the mission from routine to exhilarating.

After cruising for about fifteen minutes, Johnson suddenly heard a loud bang as the helicopter pitched up violently. The airspeed slowed abruptly, and the cyclic and collective became difficult to control. Johnson pulled back on the stick to slow the aircraft for the impending crash landing. The chopper hit the ground skids first at 70 knots and slid through the thick brush covering the ground until it came to rest as it struck a mesquite tree. Fearing an explosion the pilot Lt. Wayne, the crew chief Sgt. Benjamin, and Johnson jumped out the aircraft. Miraculously, none were injured, but the helicopter was destroyed. The tail section as disconnected from the badly mangled fuselage. Wrapped around what was left of the rotor system was a mass of twisted, heavy wire from power lines the helicopter struck. An impact a few inches higher, and the lines would have severed the rotors. A few inches lower and the cables would have transected the cockpit and decapitated Wayne and Johnson. The strike was perfectly placed at the base of the rotor drive shaft as it exited the fuselage which allowed the rotors to function for the few seconds necessary to guide the aircraft to the ground.

Aircraft accidents are the kiss of death for any peace time military commander. Even though the accident occurred 500 miles away from the base and was caused by an inexperienced lieutenant flying too low and too fast over unfamiliar terrain, it was Davenport's responsibility. He was an exceptionally capable officer with an unblemished record, but this escapade would stop his career in its tracts.

The pilots in our unit frequently flew unauthorized low level sorties, but if there was a mistake as a result of breaking flight regulations, all of us assumed the worst. When lieutenants Johnson and Wayne returned to base a few days later, they fully expected to lose their wings and perhaps go to prison. Their fears were compounded when Sgt. Otto and Sgt. Benjamin returned the wreckage of the Huey to the base on a flat bed truck. The helicopter was a pile of rubble. It was extraordinary the crew survived the crash and was able to walk away from the heap of twisted metal.

A few weeks past, but the hammer never fell. Johnson and Wayne continued to fly. Captain Henry, our unit commander, served in the same capacity as if nothing happened. Apparently Colonel Davenport had a guardian angel. The crash was reported to SAC Headquarters in Omaha as a “minor aircraft incident” rather than the destruction of a fully operational helicopter. There were no injuries or damage to civilian property, so as far as the Air Force was concerned there was no difference between this mishap and a bent skid from a hard landing. Colonel Davenport was reticent to implicate Lt. Wayne and Lt. Johnson, since there were many witnesses to the “minor incident.” It seemed best to let matters quietly go away. The episode taught us young pilots to appreciate how influential people with connections get what they want, but as a pawn it didn't hurt to have a few pictures of the wreck.