Viper Pilot_ A Memoi..

them had likely ever visited. They could take off again if they had to, and this was,
no doubt, part of what they were discussing. I had a thought then and trotted back
to my truck, with twelve heads swiveling to watch. As I rummaged about in the
bed, I could almost feel their fingers tightening on the triggers.
But I turned around, flashed a charming smile, and triumphantly held up both
six-packs. I couldn’t see faces behind the visors but I absolutely had their attention
now. Assuming they’d flown in from the United States, they’d been sitting in those
cockpits for at least ten hours and a cold beer was a glimpse of heaven. Within
thirty seconds, I heard the dying whine of a jet engine, then another and another.
All down the line the big canopies yawned opened as the fighters shut down.
Booze wins again.
I dropped one of the beers in the ankle pocket of my flight suit, pulled a
boarding ladder out of the truck and walked back to the lead jet. Carefully hooking
the prongs on the left side of the cockpit, I seated the foam supports just forward of
the gun and slowly climbed up the ladder.
Clearing the canopy railing, I leaned over and looked into the cockpit. The
ejection seat took up most of it. On either side of the pilot were consoles about a
foot wide, and every inch was taken. Most of the switches and knobs were things a
pilot would set one time prior to takeoff and then leave alone. Radios, jamming
pod, and the countermeasure controls were all here. The right side had cockpit
lighting controls, environmental controls (air-conditioning and heat), and the sensor
power panel for the various pods the F-16 carried. There was also the Data
Transfer Cartridge (DTC) port. This was a VHS-tape-size cartridge that could be
programmed by a special computer prior to the flight. Thousands of navigation
points, threat data, weapons, and other useful stuff could be saved on this and then
loaded into the fighter’s systems with the touch of a button.
During long combat missions or transoceanic flights, these consoles were
cluttered with map cases, food, and water. This guy’s cockpit was no exception.
Ever wonder how a fighter pilot wearing a G-suit, harness, exposure suit, and
survival vest relieves himself while strapped into a tiny cockpit
Piddle packs. Little tough plastic bags partially filled with absorbent sand. They
had a sealable “neck” and were good for one toilet break of the liquid kind.
Describing the mechanics of the other relief process in an F-16 cockpit would take
an entire chapter. Anyway, this guy also had a few used piddle packs tucked
against the bulkhead.
Speaking of the pilot, he was leaning as far back away from me as he could get.
I noticed he was unstrapped from the ejection seat, and his G-suit hose was