The Silk Elevator

High-Altitude and High-Speed Bailouts

When the jet age arrived, the procedure of abandoning the cockpit by stepping out on the wing rapidly became history. Jet warfare brought on a dangerous era for the pilot because of the excessive speed, which led to the development of the ejection seat. Making sure the pilot cleared the vertical stabilizer was critical. This situation not only included pilots in combat but also test pilots who were approaching and exceeding the speed of sound. There are numerous records of pilots safely ejecting at Mach 1-plus speeds with no injuries. The Russians use the Zvezda K-36DM ejection seat that allows the pilot to eject at speeds as high as 870mph. Currently, the USAF uses the new Martin-Baker ejection seats in its new F-22s. Official records show that over the years, the Martin-Baker ejection systems have saved the lives of 7,289 aircrew members as of August 2009.

It was Joseph Kittinger who pioneered the high-altitude jumps when he free-fell from balloons several times at altitudes of 76,000 to 100,000-plus feet in the late 1950s and early 1960s. It was recorded that on some of these high-altitude jumps, he free-fell for 4.5 minutes before his chute automatically opened at 18,000 feet. Some of his free-fall speeds exceeded 600mph at temperatures as low as -94 degrees F. The knowledge gained from these extremely high-altitude experiments best served the astronauts and the SR-71 aircrews, but it has made it much safer for regular military aircrews to safely eject at high altitudes. —Warren Thompson

had used up so much time gliding down to restart altitude, all of my pre-computed celestial shots would be invalid (I had used up my celestial pad); so I informed the command post that I was aborting the mission and returning to Laughlin AFB. I must add here that Pratt & Whitney, along with the Skunk Works, identified the problems with the P-37, and a short time later, the PW-31 engine/fuel control (11,200 thrust) was installed, and that pretty much solved the flameout problems. Lockheed records state that 48 U-2As were built that had the J57-P-37A engine; however, there was at least one very dangerous incident that cropped up soon after.

One of the most memorable emergencies in a U-2 occurred on January 2, 1962. It was a night celestial navigation training flight flown by Capt. Chuck Stratton (he

finished his U-2 stint with 1,500 hours in the aircraft). His story ranks up there with some of the most dangerous close calls ever recorded in the U-2 or SR-71. He vividly recalls the details of his bailout in U-2 (no. 6709) at 70,000 feet.

“The route I was to fly was from Laughlin AFB in Del Rio, Texas, along the southern part of the U.S. to Birmingham, Alabama, and return. The weather conditions were clear, so takeoff and the climb to 64,500 feet was normal. At that altitude, the airspeed was set at Mach .72, and as the fuel burned off, the aircraft climbed gradually up to 74,000 feet near the end of the mission. The flight all the way to the Birmingham area was normal, and all systems, including the autopilot, were working perfectly. The return flight was proceeding normally, and as I approached the Mississippi/Louisiana border, I could see New Orleans glistening in the distance.”

Capt. Stratton was cruising at 70,000 feet and had just completed a navigational fix on a star, when suddenly, with no warning, the nose pitched up, and his U-2 stalled and fell off on the left wing. This happened in a split second. His control inputs to correct the situation had no effect. A second later, it became clear that recovery was not going to be possible because the aircraft was in some unknown position, the engine had flamed out, and Stratton’s pressure suit was inflating. There was only one thing left to do.

“I decided to eject! I reached down, pulled the ejection “D” ring, expecting to be catapulted through the canopy and clear of the aircraft. (The U-2 ejection procedure was unlike that of any other aircraft in that the canopy did not jettison first. The seat was supposed to break through the canopy, and three seconds after the “D” ring was pulled, the lap belt opened automatically, and the pilot was clear of the seat). Shortly after pulling the ring, I knew I was in serious trouble! I was still in the cockpit, floating around like a ball since the lap belt had opened and the suit was inflated. I began to try and locate the canopy jettison handles, and when I pulled them, the canopy fell off and I fell out!

“After clearing the aircraft, I began to spin wildly. We were taught to spread our arms and legs to stop the spin, but I can tell you that it does not work up at extreme altitudes. We were also taught not to open the parachute at those heights but to freefall until the chute opened automatically at about 15,000 feet. Since I could not stop the spinning and felt like I was going to throw up, I decided to open the chute manually. At this time, I estimate I was somewhere around 60,000 feet when my chute opened, since my suit was still inflated. I felt no opening shock, and as I descended, I began

to assess my landing situation.”

Captain Stratton knew he was over water because he could see the reflection of the sky, with the stars glistening below him. At about that time, he realized he had run out of oxygen in the seat kit, so he had no alternative but to open the face piece. Fortunately, he did not pass out because he was low enough to get ample oxygen. After descending further, he was about to deploy the life raft that was in the seat kit, when his feet started to hit some tree branches.

“Suddenly, I came to a soft springy stop as my chute caught in the top of a tall gum tree. After determining that I was OK physically, I opened the seat kit and pulled out the survival kit portion. I carefully opened it and took out the flashlight and pinned it to the chest of my coveralls. I was near the trunk of the tree, and a nice six-inch limb was growing out at almost a perfect 90-degree angle. I pulled myself up on the limb and leaned against the tree trunk. It was still pitch black, so I didn’t know how high I was above the water. To get an idea of how far up I was, I took off my helmet and dropped it. It seemed like it dropped forever, and then I heard a loud splash in the water. I knew I was going to be in the tree for as long as it took for someone to come and rescue me.”

Once settled in the tree, Stratton pulled out a warm stocking cap from his survival kit and put it on. Even though he was in the deep south, it was early January, and the temperatures were cold. Next thing, he assembled the emergency radio. A cable was connected to a battery pack and then connected to the R/T unit. He stuffed the battery pack down inside his pressure suit so he would not drop the radio. After several hours, he spotted a low-flying aircraft that appeared to be searching in a pattern. It turned out to be an SA-16 that had plenty of loiter time.

“I gave a call on the UHF emergency frequency but did not receive any response. Then I asked the aircraft that if he could

I ESTIMATE I WAS SOMEWHERE AROUND 60,000 FEET WHEN MY CHUTE OPENED, SINCE MY SUIT WAS STILL INFLATED. I FELT NO OPENING SHOCK, AND AS I DESCENDED, I BEGAN TO ASSESS MY LANDING SITUATION.

The office in a U-2S. The aircraft employs a yoke rather than a fighter-type stick and is equipped with an ejection seat. The periscope is noteworthy in the top center.

This close-up view shows Capt. Chuck Stratton with the canopy closed in his U-2 right before engine start. His memorable flight on the night of January 2, 1962, was a routine night mission over the southern U.S. (Photo courtesy of Chuck Stratton via Warren Thompson.)

U-2s come equipped with hydraulically actuated speed brakes, which can be used to slow a descent, and they are always used for landings.

The U-2 rear main tires are a small diameter and constructed of solid rubber. The front main gear of the U-2 has larger and more traditional pneumatic tires.

The U-2 has a unique landing system. Since the pogos that support the long wings are released during takeoff, only the main gear on the fuselage centerline are used on rollout, and eventually the U-2 simply drops to one wingtip. The pilot has to wait for ground crews to reinstall the pogos before taxiing back to the line.