USAF Airlift Operations in Australia

The flight deck is very liberal in proportion, there being seating for three pilots, a navigator, a flight engineer, and five supernumeraries. There is even a bunk above the supernumerary seats, and two more above the cargo compartment. Ten minutes after takeoff, we passed through flight level 150 on the climb to FL350, with a true air speed of 350 knots. The green New South Wales countryside slips beneath the wings, and the patchy cloud fades further and further below. We reach top of the climb after averaging a rate of climb of 1400 feet per minute. As the cloud far below grows thicker, we lose sight of the earth, and the flights settle into a routine as the C-141 drones on into the pale blue distance. The aircraft commander is Major Pat Areffi, and this is his first flight to Wommera. The aircraft is from No. 15 Military Airlift Squadron (MAS), one of the three squadrons making up the 63rd MAW. All three squadrons share the responsibility of the regular ‘down under’ flights, known in PACAF as th ‘Kiroo’ missions-an abbreviation for ‘Klwi-kangaROO’.

The time soon passes by, and after an hour and a half at cruise, we reach our descent point and commence a 1500 fpm descent into Woomera. The co-pilot, Captain Janis Skliar, is a petite blond, and will make this landing. Janis is a lady pilot in every sense of the word, and it is refreshing to have such a feminine influence in what is the predominantly male environment of the flight deck. We break through scattered cloud and prepare for a visual approach for runway 18. The airfield at Woomera is a bare, sealed 7000-foot strip in the midst of a red, desolate and inhospitable countryside. The minimum field length for the C-141 is 6000 feet, so there is little room for error. We touch down right on the aiming point, and with reverse thrust applied, brake to a stop and take the end taxiway to a lone terminal building. The cargo will take almost two hours to unload onto semi-trailers for delivery to the American/Australian Joint Defence Space Communications Agency (JDSCA) at Woomera itself. While waiting, the crew take the opportunity to catch a Commonwealth bus into Woomera village to see one of the most unusual townships in Australia, and what can only be described as a ‘four-wheel drive’ golf course in the desert scrub on the outskirts of the village.

At 10. 45 a. m. South Australian time, and with the aircraft re-loaded, we commence the next leg to Learmonth, Western Australia. It was uncharacteristically cloudy at Woomera, but after climbing out and heading westward the weather began to improve. By the time we reach cruising height, the sky is clear, and the crew avail themselves of the opportunity to view the harsh desert below, with its salt lakes and eerie redness, its strange geological formations. The crew find that the sheer boredom of long-distance flying is made easier to bear if there is some scenery to look at, and this flight certainly affords them that.

On its introduction into the USAF, the C-141 had a navigator amongst its crew, but with the incorporation of a dual inertial navigation system (INS) into the aircraft, the navigator, and indeed the navigation station, has become all but redundant. The INS is representative of the whole flight deck-well designed and space efficient. The main instrument panel is laid out to this formula, and the use of vertical tape instruments is an unusual feature. Engine indications are thus displayed on a relatively small panel, replacing twenty dial instruments that would occupy at least twice the space. Rate of climb, altitude, airspeed and Mach indications are also displayed on the vertical tape instruments.

The Starlifter

On 17th December 1963, the first Lockheed C-141A Starlifter made its maiden flight, and the 284th and last example was delivered just over four years later in February 1968. The C-141A was the first jet aircraft specifically designed and built to meet military standards as a troop and cargo carrier. Yet the Starlifter was to have two lives, and in December 1975, the first of 270 C-141As returned to Lockheed-Georgie’s Marietta plant for reworking and ‘stretching’ to become known as the C-1418.

The conversion from ‘A’ to ‘B’ model involved stretching the fuselage by inserting two plugs forward and aft of the wing, and fitting an aerial refuelling capacity. The plugs increased the length of the aircraft by 23 ft 4 in (7. 11 m), and enabled the aircraft to carry 13 standard pallets instead of the ‘A’ model’s ten, representing a 30% increase in volumetric payload. The Universal Aerial Refuelling Slipway Installation provided a means of increasing the Starlifter’s range. A receptacle suitable for ‘flying boom’ refuelling allows fuel to be transferred through a pipe running along the aircraft’s upper side into the normal fuelling system. The final C-1418 conversion was delivered in 1982, but four C-141As remain in USAF service with the Air Force Systems Division.

Two and a half hours pass before the Western Australian coastline at last becomes visible on the horizon, and we begin our descent into Learmonth. An Airlines of Western Australia Fellowship is the only other traffic in the area, and it touches down as we begin our long curved approach onto runway 36. Major Areffi lands the aircraft this time, and after coming to a halt we backtrack down the whole length of the aerodrome, past the civil terminal, to a special ramp at the southern end of the airfield. After shutdown, the aircraft is unloaded, and this cargo is destined for the USN/RAN Harold E. Holt submarine communications station.

The unloading and reloading process takes an hour and a half, and the crew wait patiently in the hot and dry midday until the task is complete. The passengers for the return trip, all America-bound, are again seated, and the crew begin their preflight duties, the first of which is to start the auxiliary power unit to supply power for the air conditioning system.

With the aircraft secure, it is not long before we are airborne and heading for Richmond. This flight will take close to four and a half hours. With the wind in our favour, the INS often indicates ground speeds in excess of 500 knots as we thunder eastward at 38,000 feet. The crew compare the countryside below with some parts of Oklahoma or Texas. The pilots have rotated once again, and on this leg Lt. Richard Terzian is occupying the co-pilot’s chair. The flight engineers have also rotated, with Teddy Hedrick replacing Tom Killough. As the day wears on and the dusk approaches, some of the ‘off-shift’ crew begin to snooze. Sgt. Mike McKinney, one of our four flight engineers, passes some coffees up from the cargo compartment. The cargo section of the aeroplane makes up 70 ft (21. 3 m) of the 168 ft (51. 3 m) fuselage, and a wing span of 160 ft (48. 7 m) enables the huge mass to stay airborne.

At 8. 45 p. m. EST we begin our descent into Richmond, and by 9. 15 we are on the ground, and park next to another Starlifter that had arrived from New Zealand during the day. Obviously well practiced at ‘quick getaways’, the crew soon disappear into taxis that will take them back to their hotel so that they can catch some sleep before their flight to New Zealand tomorrow.

Today’s flight had been part of mission 827, which is the round trip Norton, Hickam, Pago Pago, Richmond, Woomera, Learmonth, Richmond, Christchurch, Pago, Hickam, Norton. The other weekly mission is 825, which is the round trip Norton, Pago, Christchurch, Richmond, Alice Springs, Richmond, Pago, Hickam, Norton. This mission supplies the Pine Gap installation in Central Australia. Other special flights, including C-5 Galaxy missions, are arranged when the need arises for the delivery of cargo too big for the regular C-141 flights to handle. It is mission 825 that we will next join for the Richmond, Pago Pago, and Hickam legs.

The mission 825aircrew arrive at RAAF Richmond at noon, and report to the 619 MASS detachment offices, which occupy a corner of one of the RAAF’s hangars, and the crew are briefed for their flight. From Richmond, the aircraft will fly direct to Pago Pago, where we will refuel and pick up seven passengers. From there, direct to Hickam AFB, Hawaii. A day’s rest in Hawaii, and the crew will continue their mission through to Norton AFB, California.

The briefing in the Department of Meteorology Office warns of a tropical cyclone near Fiji, and we will have to take care to avoid the area. From the Met Office, the crew proceed to flight planning, where the fuel loads required are calculated, and a computer flight is submitted. Over an hour has passed since the crew arrived on base. Clearance by Customs is the next step, then we are finished with formalities and walk out to join the aircraft. C-141B 60138 awaits on the warm Richmond tarmac, and like the Woomera/Learmonth aircraft is still painted in the grey/white MAC colour scheme. The USAF’s C-141 fleet is slowly being repainted in a ‘lizard’ camouflage scheme, which adds little to the already limited aesthetic appeal of the aeroplane! Our aircraft commander (AC), Lt. Sam Kinard, is having an AC check flight, with Capt. Jack Fotheringham as flight examiner. The third pilot is LT. Zeb Wright. We will carry a normal complement of two flight engineers, David Garcia and William Johnson. The two loadmasters, Michael Plonski and Jeffrey Combs direct the thirty-seven passengers on board – quite a large number for such a flight. In the flight deck, the pilots are loading the INS, an operation which takes about five minutes in all. The rest of the pre-flights are then completed, and we are clear to start.

At seventeen minutes past one, engine number one is started, followed by two, three and four. The after-start checks begin, using a scroll checklist fitted at the flight engineer and co-pilot stations. Yaw damper – on, radar antenna stabilize switch – on, radar – standby, flight controls checked, CWls -inspected . . . The checks continue and we start to taxi. Brakes -checked, flight instruments -checked, altimeters -set, warning lights -checked, flaps set for takeoff, spoilers closed, trims set. The flight engineer too, is busy with his checklist. Our airways clearances come through, advising us to make a 10° left turn after takeoff for noise abatement. The crew throttle back the engines as we taxi past Hercules 007, which is having an undercarriage repair, to avoid blasting the groundcrew. Ten minutes after the start we are given line-up clearance, and the pilot, steering with the tiller on his left side panel, winds the aircraft around onto the threshold markers. It is a long wait before our takeoff clearance is given, but at last, we are off. The big aeroplane starts to roll down the runway, and before long we are accelerating away, flashing past three groundcrews standing on a Caribou watching in respect. The shores of Australia soon fall behind, and we head out across the Pacific- first stop Pago Pago.

For the passengers, the flight now settles down into its monotony. The rearward-facing passenger seating is arranged in the forward section of the cargo compartment, and with this section being practically devoid of windows, an atmosphere of detachment and apathy becomes overpowering. This is the domain of the loadmaster, whose duties include supervising passenger loading and unloading, weight and balance calculations, security of cargo before, after and during flight, and general duties such as filling out manifests and determining the suitability and positioning of cargo.

In the flight compartment, the atmosphere is decidedly different. We are at the top of the climb now, FL390 and our indicated Mach number is 0. 74, our true airspeed is 440 knots, and our true heading is 040°. We try to pick up a commercial radio station on the ADF, and the deep voice of a French-speaking radio announcer suggests that we have picked up Noumea.

Night closes in three and a half hours after takeoff. Captain Fotheringham has just returned from a snooze in one of the bunks and settles down in one of the supernumerary seats to read a copy of the Australian Aviation. Reading seems to be a popular pastime for those who don’t find that it puts them to sleep! Novels, magazines, and even flight manuals are used to while away the hours.

It is starting to get mildly turbulent as we near the distant edges of a tropical cyclonic depression. The night wears on, and we fly out over the dense cloud lying over the featureless Pacific. A large proportion of MAC flying is done at night – so much, in fact, that the moon is known as the ‘MAC Sun’.

As our destination draws nearer and we begin the descent, we can pick up the terminal information – it is a mild night of 79°F (26°C) at Pago Pago. Eighty miles out we have to divert around some heavy cloud that has been painted red on our colour weather radar. We descend further and punch out through the bottom of the cloud at FL165 to see the island dead ahead. The instruments indicate that we are travelling at 270 knots CAS, or Mach = 0. 53. Having picked out the runway lights, we make a straight-in approach and touchdown on runway 05 at 10 p. m. local time, after five and a half hours in the air. As we have crossed the international date line, it is actually the previous night to when we departed Australia. We are on the ground at Pago for one and a half hours, and the crew quickly find their way to the restaurant for a stretch, sit down, and banana milkshakes. We are the only aircraft on the ground at the small American Samoan island. With our aircraft refuelled, the crew rejoined the Starlifter for the next leg to Hawaii.

As the engines begin turning, the loadmaster closes the doors and proceeds to spray the aircraft interior with ‘bug spray’ to rid the aeroplane of arthropod stowaways. We backtrack down the length of the runway, and the pilot winds the Starlifter round through 180 degrees. We are soon rumbling down the runway and airborne, and make a large sweeping turn around the island before heading for Honolulu. We climb to 37,000 feet, and the night is awesomely beautiful, with breathtaking cloud patterns far below like some surrealist sculpture.

An hour from takeoff, the flight engineer recommends a climb to FL390 for greater engine efficiency. The pilot locks the automatic flight control system into a climb, and the aircraft’s nose rises as we reach further upwards. Before long we are stabilised at 39,000 feet, with M = 0. 76, 440 knots TAS, a groundspeed of 457 knots, an engine pressure ratio (EPA) of 1. 86, and a fuel flow of around 300 pounds per hour for each engine. The engine pressure ratio is the power reference for the C-141, and represents a comparison between the air leaving the engine and the air entering the engine. The night draws on, and Honolulu draws nearer. The outside temperature is less than -60°C, but we are well insulated in the warm flight compartment. The time seems to pass more quickly now, and after four and a half hours of cruise we begin the descent into Honolulu.

Hickam AFB and Honolulu International Airport use the same runways, Hickam being located at the western end of the airfield. We are cleared for a straight-in approach, and only twenty-three minutes after leaving cruise the eight main wheels of the Starlifter smack the tarmac of runway 04 Right. Our four-and-a-half thousand-mile journey from Australia has taken us twelve and a half hours (or 10. 7 hours flying time). We taxi past the civil terminal with its varied array of airliners and are directed past the lines of KC-135s, C-130 Hercules, C-141 Starlifters, C-5 Galaxies, A-10 Thunderbolts, Iroquois and Phantoms on the military tarmac to our parking bay opposite two Galaxies silhouetted against the dawn. It is here that we will leave the 53 Military Airlift Squadron, and next we will join a 14 MAS crew for the Hawaii-Pago-Richmond leg of the 827 mission.

It is 3. 30 in the morning at Hickam, but the base is well awake as it has plenty of aircraft to despatch before dawn. The schedules for the transports in PACAF are finely planned so that aircraft will arrive at their destinations to satisfy airport hours, curfews, and other requirements. The crews are continually battling jetlag (or circadian disrythmia), and manage to win by maintaining a fairly rigid sleep pattern despite the local time, and by taking snoozes whenever possible. The aircraft is readied in the dark, and loadmasters Mitchell, Williams and Sprague herd the passengers on board. After the engine start, the giant trundles forward and taxis towards the runway. Checks are complete, as well as airways clearance, takeoff clearance, throttles forward, and airborne. Fuel flow in the climb is just inside 4400 pounds per hour, with EPA of 1. 76, N, rpm 90%, N, rpm 91. 5%, and EGT 370°C. Lt. Michael Heaberlin is being trained as aircraft commander on this leg by Major Jim Thorp, and our third pilot is 2nd Lt. Curtis McIntyre. On this flight we are carrying a navigator, Captain Charlie Fahie.

Time seems to pass quickly, and the sky begins to lighten.

Before long the brilliant red of a spectacular dawn has started to seep over the horizon, and a band of gold heralds the rising of the sun. The new light reveals the towering turrets of the powerful clouds ten thousand feet below.

It seems as though nothing near the actual five-and-a-half hours has passed before Pago Pago begins to show up on the radar, and we soon start our descent. The clouds flash by and we break into the real world. The island of Pago Pago looms ahead, and it is not long before we are on finals, and touch down into a 40°C tropical morning. On shutdown the crew again disappeared towards the air-conditioned restaurant, making full use of their time on the ground.

The aircraft is re-fuelled, taking on some 83,000 lbs of fuel (or 12,800 US gallons). The maximum fuel load of the Starlifter is 153,000 lbs (23,600 US gals), stored in ten wing tanks: four main tanks, four auxiliary tanks, and two extended range tanks. Each engine is normally supplied from its respective main and auxiliary tanks, and when necessary the engines are fed from the extended-range tanks through a manifold and crossfeed system. The manifold also permits crossfeed operation from any tank to any engine or combination of engines and is controlled by the flight engineer.

A Polynesian Airlines Boeing 737 and a Pacific Island Airways Twin Otter land while we are on the ground, and both types are dwarfed by the 141 on the apron. With our stop at Pago nearing an end, the crew boarded the aircraft and immediately started the APU and the air conditioning in the hot and humid flight deck. Again the big engines are started, and we are soon lined up as our clearance comes from the tower in a crisp American voice that would make a radio announcer proud. ‘MAC 60198, clear for takeoff, runway 23. ‘

The six-and-a-quarter-hour flight to Richmond seems to pass even more quickly, as everyone has grown accustomed to the long periods of travel. The maximum gross weight of the C-1418 is approximately 325,000 lbs (71,500 kg), and we will be taking off on 278,000 lbs (61,200 kg). Aircraft 60198 has over 24,000 hours of total time, which includes some 7000 landings and 10,000 touch-and-go landings These figures include those in its previous ‘life’ as a C-141A.

The remarkable Pratt & Whitney TF33-P-7 axial flow forward fan engines each produce some 20,000 lbs thrust. So reliable are these engines that the USAF has introduced a system where the engines are given an inflight check during each flight by the flight engineer, and are only removed and overhauled when the first signs of wear are detected. An engine vibration indicating system detects engine vibrations over a wide frequency range and displays a reading in the flight deck. Using this system the time-consuming and costly process of overhauling an engine is only performed when necessary. One aircraft in the Starlifter fleet still has an original engine that has never been removed, and has over 19,000 hours! Our aircraft’s number one engine has 11,000 hours total time and is still going strong and operating perfectly. Very few aircraft engines can make such claims.

The Starlifter is, in all respects, a very capable aircraft. This leg’s flight engineer, Jim Day, having taken over from Timothy Turner at Pago Pago, recalls one of his most memorable C-141 missions. In September 1982, twenty C-141Bs from the 63rd and 437th MAW flew from Pope Air Force Base, North Carolina, to Goose Bay in Canada for aerial refuelling, then to Germany where some 697 paratroopers and 150 tons of equipment were air-dropped, then to Mildenhall, UK, for another aerial refuelling, then back to Goose Bay for a final aerial refuelling before landing at Charleston AFB, South Carolina. The aircraft had been in the air for 21. 2 hours non-stop.

The 10 ft 3 in (3. 12 m) wide cargo compartment is not as full as it could be on our flight, as it is capable of taking fifteen Jeeps, four Iroquois helicopters or a single Minuteman ICBM, which equates to a cubic capacity of 6,534 cu ft (185 m2).

The shores of Australia become visible on the horizon, and we ‘break land’ just north of Sydney Harbour, and are given a straight-in approach to Richmond. At last, the machine touches down, and all that remains of our long trip is the long taxi back to our parking bay, and the clinical Customs inspection.

When it is realised that our flights with Military Airlift Command have been just a metaphorical drop in the ocean of ‘global airlift’, the enormity of such a network really sinks in. The USAF C-141 Starlifter is an exceptional aircraft, and its function and capability are truly remarkable.