Viper Pilot_ A Memoi..

simulator scenario that had gone ape-shit.
“Confirm all other ROMANS are on deck.”
“Affirmative. State intentions.”
That word again. I really hated that word.
“ROMAN One is six miles, gear down full stop, three-zero left.”
I opened the speed brakes and dropped the nose to catch the glide slope.
Normally, with a gear problem, you’d just orbit around in clear airspace and work
through the checklist. But with a deteriorating quarter-mile visibility and no place
else to go, that wasn’t happening. I pushed the little round green gear light in to
check the electrical circuit. Maybe the bulb had just burned out. No such luck.
Five miles. Twenty-two hundred feet and 160 knots. Sometimes cycling the gear
solved minor problems, so I cycled the handle up and watched the red “in transit”
light illuminate. The two green lights went out. Fighting the aircraft’s upward surge
and 30-knot crosswind while flying the ILS, I added power again and lowered the
handle. The fighter yawed a bit as the gear came down, and this time I actually
heard three thumps. But still only two gear lights.
Fuck it.
“ROMAN . . . Ali Tower reporting gusts to forty knots.”
Terrific.
Still, you have to sound good no matter what. “ROMAN One copies,” I replied
calmly. “Short final with the gear, full stop.” I think.
“Cleared to land.”
I was crabbing almost thirty degrees into the wind, and the jet was bouncing in
the unstable air like popcorn in a popper. Again, there was nothing in front of me
but blowing sand and blackness. At one mile, I was dead on the approach
centerline at 300 feet. A normal ILS approach has a minimum altitude of 200 feet,
so I continued down and leveled off at 100 feet. Ignoring the gear issue, my burning
eyes, and sweaty hands, I concentrated every ounce of consciousness on the
ground before me. Risking quick glances left and right, I could see nothing but
billowing gray clouds of dust.
The distance counter in the HUD said 0.1, so I had to be directly over the
threshold.
“Shit.” I shoved the throttle forward to go around. I had no real hope of flying
another instrument approach and finding the runway, but if you can’t see you can’t
land.
A light!
Just disappearing beneath my left wingtip.