Sky Spy, Memoirs of a U-2 Pilot

by Jim Carter

  My instructor debriefed me, congratulated me and we made the rounds in the squadron. Every pilot in the building congratulated me and welcomed me to the most exclusive flying club on earth.

  I called my wife with the good news and she gave me her good news. We had a buyer for our house. What a day!

  Chapter 6

  I returned to Selma to start the big move. Seven days later we were ready to hit the road. We were a two-car family and that complicated the trip. Doreen and the kids took the station wagon while I drove the TR-6. We each had a CB radio and had our own mini caravan across the country. It’s hard to imagine making a trip like that today without cell phones but the CB worked well for us. We took frequent breaks and made it into a short vacation.

  Base housing at Beale was considerably nicer and newer than either Pope or Craig. Since off-base housing was quite a distance from the base, we opted to move into Officers housing at Beale. Our house sat on a ridge looking out over beautiful, rolling hills.

  Once we settled into our house, I began the mind-numbing process of checking into a new base. This consisted of carrying around a large stack of official documents from building to building getting every administrator’s seal of approval.

  We were also meeting our neighbors. We had a good group on our street. My next-door neighbor was an SR-71 pilot, Major Tom Peck. Tom had been on base for a year but hadn’t flown yet. Our wing, the 9th Strategic Reconnaissance Wing, included the U-2 and the SR-71. Both squadrons were housed in a large “H” shaped building. The U-2 operation on one side, the SR-71 group on the other, with a common operations briefing room in the middle.

  The SR-71, nicknamed the “Blackbird,” was the fastest airplane on earth. Huge, black, and twin-engine, it could cruise at three times the speed of sound. It looked like something from the set of Star Wars. Naturally, in such elite groups as ours, there was intense rivalry. The U-2 was a single engine, single pilot aircraft. Our unofficial motto was “Alone, Unarmed, and Unafraid.” Both squadrons’ pilots wore orange flight suits. No other USAF pilots did. We thought we were the “Cat’s Ass.”

  The SR-71 was a two-man operation, a pilot up front and a systems operator in the back. It was our one pilot, one engine operation versus their two-man, two engine operation. Obviously we were superior to them! The SR-71 got all the publicity: newspapers, national magazines, radio and TV interviews. We referred to their squadron as the 1st SPS or Strategic Publicity Squadron. They were always on national news setting a new Los Angeles to Washington speed record. Kelly Johnson at Lockheed, the designer of the U-2, also designed the SR-71. The airplane was built to do post-nuclear war strike damage assessment. Since it never got to do that, they had to think of other things for it to do. Setting speed records was one of them.

  The U-2 was the airplane of choice for aerial reconnaissance. It was a stable platform and provided outstanding results. The SR-71 was very fast but the quality of its product didn’t measure up to the U-2’s results. The SR-71 was also a maintenance nightmare. During supersonic flight, the titanium-skinned airplane stretched out more than 18 inches. When the airplane taxied out before flight it leaked fuel like a sieve. Once the airplane got airborne and heated up, it sealed up and the leaks stopped. Every time it flew, it required a complete maintenance phase inspection. In laymen’s terms, they practically took the airplane apart and put it back together after each flight. After learning these facts about the airplane, it became clear to me why Peck still hadn’t flown after being here a year.

  Chapter 7

  One of the perks of joining this select group was the additional flying available, not in the U-2 but in the T-38. Both U-2 and SR-71 pilots had twelve T-38s to use to maintain instrument currency, go cross-country, or fly formation. Since I was a certified T-38 instructor at Craig, I was now a T-38 instructor at Beale.

  All USAF pilots are required to take an annual instrument check either in the airplane or the simulator. The U-2 had no simulator. Since it was cheaper and easier to schedule, the squadron was given special permission to give U-2 pilots their annual instrument check in the T-38. Flying the T-38 at Beale was an exciting job. We acted as chase ship for the SR-71. Quite frequently the Blackbird would return from its mission with something wrong. A chase ship would be sent up to meet the airplane and fly formation with it. This allowed the pilot of the T-38 to look for leaks, hanging panels, popped fasteners, or anything else that might have broken on the airplane. It was quite the rush to fly formation with an airplane three times your size. The SR-71 engines had big spikes that would move in and out during flight regulating the air intake. Whenever I flew alongside this behemoth I felt like one of those remoras that feed off of a great white shark — small, insignificant, but staying close.

  Now that I was officially in the squadron, I began the training to become a fully qualified U-2 pilot. The latest, operational version of the U-2 I would eventually fly was the “R” model. The “R” is a huge airplane. It has a wingspan of 103 feet, a length of 63 feet, all powered by 18,500 pounds of thrust from its Pratt and Whitney J-75 engine. The empty weight of the airplane is still classified but on traffic pattern-only training missions, the airplane had more thrust than weight. In 1977 all the Rs were single seat airplanes so I would initially train on the two-seat “C” model. The C-model was the earlier, smaller version of the R with only an 80-foot wingspan.

  The training syllabus included five flights. The first two in the two-seat model, followed by a solo ride in the single seat U-2C. The training ended with two more solo rides in the C.

  I was excited about the first ride. It would be my first high flight and was something I had wanted for a long time. My two evaluation flights had been low altitude, only up to 20,000 feet. This flight was meant to introduce me to the real purpose of the airplane, high altitude flying. For all non-high flights, the pilot wears a normal flight suit and helmet.

  High altitude flying required a pressure suit. Pressure suits were needed to keep the pilot at a safe cabin altitude. The U-2 flew above 70,000 feet so the pilot needed to be protected in case of cabin pressure loss. The U-2 cabin was normally maintained at 28,000 feet but if the engine failed or the canopy cracked, the cabin would rapidly rise to the actual altitude of the airplane. Without the protection of the pressure suit, the pilot would quickly die.

  One of the most important support organizations in the wing was the Physiological Support Division (PSD). The PSD maintained all the pressure suits and dressed us prior to a high flight. Putting on a pressure suit isn’t as easy as slipping on a flight suit.

  The average U-2 high flight lasted about 10 hours and everyone started at the PSD building. The pilot would show up about two hours prior to flight. Pilots were fed a high protein, low fat meal. Then the dressing process began.

  The technicians pre-tested the pressure suit for leaks, tears or malfunctions before they helped the pilot climb into it. All U-2 and SR-71 pilots had two custom fitted suits. In 1977 these pressure suits were valued at $100,000 each.

  The dressing process began with the pilot donning a long-john pant and shirt combination. To enable the pilot to urinate in flight, he wore a condom-like device with a long plastic tube attached to the end. The plastic tube would extend from the pressure suit and eventually was connected to the airplane. The pilot connected the condom and tube to the pants with Velcro. Once this was complete, the pilot presented himself to the PSD technicians.

  The technicians did the real work in dressing the pilot. The pilot merely followed their instructions to sit, stand, or turn while the technicians maneuvered the suit and secured him inside. Once the pressure suit was on, the helmet was attached.

  Now that the pilot was properly dressed in the pressure suit he was placed in a recliner and hooked up to air conditioning and 100 % oxygen. This was the start of his one-hour of pre-breathing.

  One hour of pre-breathing was required to rid the body of any excess nitrogen, which could cause the “bends.” The bends is also known as dec
ompression sickness and describes a condition occurring when dissolved gases come out of the blood and form bubbles inside the body. These bubbles can migrate to any part of the body causing a variety of results from pain and rashes to paralysis and even death. Pre-breathing 100 % oxygen would eliminate virtually all of the gases from the pilot’s body. Since the U-2 pilot flew at a cabin altitude of 28,000 feet, pre-breathing was imperative to prevent the bends. Modern airliners are pressurized at a cabin altitude of between six and eight thousand feet so “bends” is not an issue for the travelling public.

  The PSD building had several recliners to choose from. I remember sitting in one of the recliners for my pre-breathe prior to my first high flight. I was both anxious and excited. Anxious because I was about to experience something that few men before me ever had and I wanted a successful mission with no problems. Excited because of the prospect of seeing the world from a new vantage point.

  With pre-breathing complete, the pilot was escorted to a waiting PSD van for transport to the aircraft. Portable oxygen and air conditioning units were attached to the suit for the ride to the airplane.

  Once the pilot was seated in the cockpit, the technicians connected him to the aircraft’s oxygen and air conditioning systems. They also connected the urine drain line from the suit. This line would be secured into a well that sat underneath the control column and had a two-quart capacity. The technicians completed the process by attaching the seat belt and shoulder harness.

  The U-2C required a different pressure suit than the R model. The C-suit was a “squeeze” suit. This meant that if the airplane lost cabin pressure, the suit would squeeze or constrict the pilot. The R-suit, used only in the U-2R, would inflate with a cabin pressure loss. The R-suit is the same suit worn by the space shuttle astronauts. Both suits had the same purpose of keeping the pilot at a 28,000 feet cabin pressure.

  Personally, I disliked the C-suit. It was skintight, restrictive and uncomfortable. The R-suit was a vast improvement over the older C-suit. The R-suit was loose fitting and inflatable. In flight, with a push of a button, you could inflate the suit and move around inside it. Since I would be flying the U-2C in my upcoming high flights it meant I had to wear the uncomfortable C-suit.

  Chapter 8

  The itinerary for the first mission would take us north out of Beale up to the Crater Lake area of Oregon, then southeast to Elko, Nevada, and southwest back to Beale. This mission’s emphasis was in navigation. The weather was beautiful in all directions and we blasted off into the cloudless California sky. The climb rate of the airplane was amazing. The instructor pointed out that we didn’t have a full fuel load and we had no payload (normally cameras) on board. These two factors had a significant effect on the aircraft’s climb rate. The altimeter spun around quickly as the ground fell away below us; 40,000 feet, 50,000, 60,000, then 65,000 feet. As we climbed, the view from my seat changed dramatically. From this altitude, I could clearly see the curvature of the earth. The sky was no longer its normal blue, but was now a rich, dark purple color. I could see 500 miles in every direction and I felt like I was on top of the world. As I gazed out at the distant horizon, the beauty of the panorama overwhelmed me. I felt truly humbled and grateful to be able to see this magnificence. I had never experienced such a scene in my entire life and I still recall it exactly as it happened, 38 years ago.

  Navigating in the U-2 was easier than I thought it would be. Normal airplanes, when navigating from one point to another, had to correct for wind. Without constant correction, the wind would push the airplane off course. This was not a concern in the U-2 because there is no wind above 50,000 feet. Your heading to the target is automatically your course. One of the other nice navigation aids was the reverse periscope. It worked just like a periscope on a submarine but instead of being able to see up, you could see what was directly below you. One of the systems the airplane didn’t have, and I thought I would miss, was the weather radar. It turned out that I didn’t need it, at least at high altitude. If there was a thunderstorm along the route, I could usually top it. This would later prove to be a problem at night however.

  The inflight refreshments in the U-2 were very limited. It was very important to stay hydrated. Pint-sized bottles of water or Gatorade were provided. Attached to the top of these bottles was a long, flexible plastic tube, which fit into an opening in the front of the helmet. I followed my instructor’s advice and drank plenty of liquid during the flight. This is where I encountered my first problem in the airplane. I drank, and I drank, and I drank some more; but I couldn’t urinate in the airplane. I absolutely could not make myself do it. As hard as I tried and as much as I wanted to, it would not flow. I think I couldn’t get over the idea of peeing in my pants. Rationally, I know that the urine would flow into the tube and down into the well, but my body wouldn’t believe it.

  We completed our navigation and now it was time to start down. The U-2 doesn’t like to go down. It was designed to go up, to climb. The combination of thrust and wing area made descent difficult. The descent checklist read as follows:

  Power: Idle

  Landing Gear: Down

  Flaps: Extend

  Speed Brakes and Spoilers: Extend

  Even with all this stuff hanging off the airplane, it still took 45 minutes to an hour to get back to Mother Earth. Meanwhile, I really had to pee, but still couldn’t do it in the airplane. I had to wait until I got back to the PSD building and undressed. Ahhhh, relief!

  The second training flight followed a pattern similar to the first, only this time; we headed down the coast of California, east to Death Valley, then back to Beale. I knew I had to beat this urination problem. Once again I drank plenty of fluids hoping to force the issue, but it was still a no-go. I returned to the Beale traffic pattern with a full bladder.

  The crosswind that day was just under the limit at 9 or 10 knots and we had to practice landings. The first landing was successful but we landed in a very slight crab. The second time we landed in a crab again but more pronounced this time. When the airplane touched down, it immediately realigned itself with the runway. That’s when the fun started.

  As advertised, with that sudden correction, the tailwheel steering had snapped. We knew this because the airplane started turning into the crosswind like a weathervane and was not responding to tailwheel steering inputs. The instructor took control of the airplane as we continued to drift right. He shut down the engine as we ran off the runway into the grass. We stopped about 20 feet off the runway and let tower know what was happening. We told them we didn’t need an emergency response. Our mobile crew had seen what had happened and they arranged for a tug to bring the aircraft back to the maintenance hangar. I experienced first hand what a tailwheel failure felt like. The airplane turned into the wind and we were powerless to do anything about it.

  The third mission was solo day. It was strictly a traffic pattern ride so no pressure suit was required. The weather was clear but it was windy. On my first landing attempt, I stalled it a bit too low and the airplane hit the runway and became airborne again. I went around and tried it again. This time I wasn’t lined up properly. The crosswind was light but I was still turned into the wind as I held the airplane off the ground. I didn’t like the look of it so I went around again. Now I was talking to myself. I gave myself a good pep talk and went at it again. This time it all came together for a successful landing. I completed three more that day before it was time to quit. The Wing and Squadron Commanders, as well as the base photographer that documented the deed, met me as I climbed down from the cockpit. I had become the 248th person to solo the U-2. It was a great milestone for me and I was awfully glad it was behind me.

  That night there was a ceremony in my honor at the Officers Club in which I was officially inducted into the U-2 pilot fraternity. To make it legal, I had one more chore to perform. Every new U-2 pilot had to do it and now it was my turn.

  A yard of beer was filled to the top (and I mean all the way to the top). A small,
black U-2 pin was dropped to the bottom of the yard glass. My task was to lift the yard without spilling a drop of beer and drink it all down without lowering the yard. I had to keep the yard up until it was empty and the pin slid into my mouth. This was way harder than flying the airplane, but with all the squadron pilots shouting their encouragement, I managed to do it. Luckily, I had the next day off to recover.

  The next two C missions were solo high flights similar to the ones I had previously flown with an instructor. These two missions had a different feel. There was definitely something different about being alone up there. I can only describe it as blissful isolation. It was just me and the airplane flying along as one, 14 miles above the earth. On a more mundane note, I still couldn’t pee.

  On the last C flight I was determined to make it work. I forced the issue. I drank at least a quart of water before I suited up. Additionally, I drank three bottles of Gatorade and two bottles of water in flight. Just when I thought my bladder would burst, I was able to go. What blessed relief! Once I had gone while in the pressure suit the first time, all bets were off. I was so comfortable going in the suit that I had no difficulty going anytime, including when the technicians were strapping me in before departure. They would give me this look like, “couldn’t you wait until we were gone before you let loose?” I just smiled and let it flow.

  It was during these last two “C” flights that I was introduced to the U-2 version of the boxed lunch. In the cockpit, beneath my left elbow, was a small, round hole in the panel. This was the oven. The food came in tubes resembling toothpaste tubes. I popped a tube into the oven, turned it on, and waited. After a few minutes I took the tube out of the oven and screwed a plastic bayonet on the end of the tube. I inserted the bayonet end into the hole in my helmet and started squeezing the food through the tube into my mouth. Some of the meals available were spaghetti and meatballs, pot roast, macaroni and cheese and even butterscotch pudding for dessert. I never came back from a mission hungry. In spite of eating the tube food and drinking five or six bottles of water or Gatorade, I would lose an average of five pounds on a typical ten-hour mission.