Posted on 01/03/2011 10:56:51 PM PST by Tom Hawks
At 12:47 p.m. on December 9, 1999, the CH-46 Sea Knight lifted off from the Bonhomme Richard as the lead of five helicopters on an exercise to train Marines how to "take down" a hostile ship at sea. While SEALs boarded the ship from rubber boats, the Marines would lower themselves hand over hand from a rope dangling from the hovering helicopter. As part of the exercise, the Marines lugged assorted weapons and breaching tools, including 16-pound hammers and 30-pound cutting torches.
The Sea Knight proceeded uneventfully to a designated holding pattern 10 to 12 miles behind the rear of the target ship, the oiler Pecos, manned mostly by civilians. At 1:06 p.m., with 10 miles' visibility, a 3-knot breeze and an air temperature of 60 degrees, the helicopter was given approval by the Pecos to begin an approach. At an initial speed of slightly more than 100 mph and an altitude of 100 feet, the helicopter headed toward the ship.
When the helicopter was about a quarter-mile behind the Pecos, Cpl. Adam Johns, a member of the flight crew, told one of the pilots, Capt. James Lukehart Jr., that the helicopter was "coming in fast."
"Yep, I'm going in fast," Lukehart replied as he slowed things down.
Lukehart and the other pilot, Capt. Andrew Smith, cut speed to about 60mph and kept the aircraft at an altitude between 65 and 100 feet.
Smith gave a one-minute warning so the Marines could unbuckle and prepare to stand and lower themselves through the hell hole. Smith then gave a 30-second warning, by which time all the Marines were standing.
SEALs in boats behind the Pecos thought the helicopter was flying low; perhaps the Marines planned to land rather than hover. Marines aboard the CH-46 observed an inordinate amount of propeller wash in the water.
The chief mate aboard the Pecos, assigned as a landing safety officer, saw the helicopter at 100 yards out and began to provide arm and hand signals for the pilots to increase power and altitude. But he was dressed in white, not the traditional yellow for landing safety officers, and Smith and Lukehart ignored his instructions. At a routine briefing on the Bonhomme Richard, no one had told them that the landing safety officer would be in white.
Helicopter 154790 continued on its course.
A Navy captain aboard the Pecos screamed "power" into the radio, but the CH-46 did not receive the instructions and neither pilot responded. The white-clad officer began to motion frantically that the helicopter was coming in too low. At the same time, Johns told the pilots, "Looking good and keep driving it in."
As the Sea Knight reached the Pecos, Smith and Lukehart believed it to be 15 to 20 feet above the deck. But as the helicopter crossed the deck, Johns realized that the aircraft was "losing altitude" and made a "power" call, the first such call that Smith remembered hearing. Sgt. Evers heard a thumping noise at the rear and thought it must be the sound of the aircraft landing on the deck. "What's going on?" he demanded over his headset.
In a deviation from standard policy, Evers did not look outside the left-side window. If he had, he could have seen that the left rear wheel had hit a "man-overboard" safety netting at the rear of the Pecos.
A second after the thump, Lukehart's radio exploded with calls for "power, power, power," issued by observers on the Pecos who could not see that the wheel was fouled in the safety netting. Lukehart applied more power, and the front portion of the helicopter began to lift. The rear section, in effect, was anchored, and the helicopter lifted slowly, agonizingly, to an unnatural, almost upright position.
With the nose of the CH-46 straining upward, the helicopter rolled gently to its left and crashed heavily into the ocean. It was so close to the Pecos that spray hit the deck. The propellers exploded into thousands of pieces and the helicopter began filling with water as it continued to roll over.
It had taken six seconds from the moment Evers heard the "thump" to the crash. The unbuckled Marines were thrown asunder. Heavy, sharp-edged equipment floated everywhere. Safety lights failed. The helicopter's flotation device failed to activate. The pilots' escape doors failed. Staff Sgt. Mark Schmidt said later: "It was so dark that I couldn't see anybody's face."
Just 40 seconds after the helicopter's wheel had become ensnared in the ship's safety fence, it was over. The Sea Knight sank in 3,900 feet of water, with six Marines and a Navy corpsman still inside.
The eleven survivors were plucked quickly from the water by crewmen in rubber boats who had just delivered the SEALs. The helicopter sank so quickly that there was no time to mount a diving attempt to look for additional survivors. Seven Navy and Marine Corps personnel perished in the tragedy.
Follow the link below if you would like to see the video of the transport that was described in detail above.
CH-46 Sea Knight Crashing Into the Ocean
Wow! That thing just sank like a rock!
Tragic.
Lord have Mercy!
For the want of 3 feet or so, were lives lost.
I read and re-read the accounts and still come up with that one simple, yet deadly, conclusion — the pilot didn’t account for the moving deck.
I am an Milcraft aviation affectionado, not an expert. My opinion has no weight. I understand the drill — red hot in, red hot out, simulating a hot zone extraction.
There is a fantastic and riveting YT series (3 - 10+ minute episodes) — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4gGMI8d3vLs of how difficult it is for Navy F-18s to land on a pitching deck. These guys (the pilots) are the Iron Men of Iron Men and were crapping their pants. After seeing them touch and go so many times, your heart is in your throat and when the first bird FINALLY caught the wire I jumped and screamed like a school girl. And that continues until the last bird (getting low on fuel and light) finally catches the wire.
I note all that to say this pilot just didn’t adjust — he hit what he saw, not what was to be in a few seconds. A very human reaction where the conditions called for the superhuman.
God bless and keep the families of the fallen from this tragic accident.
Semper Fi!
Drowning isn’t a good way to go but going down fast in such a manner is far worse since the chopper is sinking so fast that many didn’t have time to equalize pressure, their eardrums ruptured and in coping with the pain, what chance they might have had of escaping were lost.
It was posted yesterday as well so I’ll read it tomorrow when it’s posted again.
Posted yesterday and years before...
Me wonders if the OP loves videos of dying servicemen...or just likes having his name on the top of Freerepublic - however brief it may be...
=8-)
You're welcome for the gif.
I remember during the last Cobra Gold I was involved in (2000 I think), a 46 got a rear landing gear caught in the flight deck netting of an LSD. This time the gear broke off but now the problem was where was it going to land lopsided. It wasn’t going to be back on a ship if they didn’t have to. Fortunately Utapao air base was not far away so they took it there.
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