CHIEF WARRANT OFFICER 2 CHRIS MEFFORD
3rd Battalion, 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment (Airborne)
Hunter Army Airfield, Georgia
During nighttime multiship helicopter air-to-air refuel (HAAR) operational training in southern Mississippi for the MH-47G Advanced Qualification Course (AQC), I was flying in the right seat next to a high-hour, extremely qualified and experienced instructor pilot (IP) in the left seat and a fellow student in the troop commander seat. We were at the tail end of months of daily flight training tasks. I was feeling very comfortable with the aircraft and flying in more adverse conditions.
The weather conditions were quite dismal, with ceilings below 1,000 feet above ground level and the cloud tops at 8,000 feet. Light rain showers were prevalent, and thunderstorms in the vicinity drove our routing outside our planned locations. Visibility was very low, not only due to the cloud coverage, but also the low lunar illumination. Adding to the complexity of the night, our aircraft (one of two) experienced a maintenance issue on the ramp prior to departure. This delay caused us to launch Chalk 1 alone in order to make a timely rendezvous with the Marine Corps C-130. Once the issue was resolved, we departed to conduct an aerial linkup with Chalk 1 and continue training. This training was a priority for graduation and, as such, there was an urgency to get it completed that night.
Upon initial radio contact, the C-130 crew relayed that they conducted a reconnaissance of the HAAR track and determined it was not viable due to the above-mentioned weather. A game-time decision was made to climb above the clouds and rendezvous at another location. We climbed to 7,000 feet but were hardly 10 feet above the cloud deck, so we climbed to 8,000 feet and began training.
Following the HAAR training, we separated from the C-130 as a flight of two MH-47Gs and began the flight back to our departure airfield to wrap up the evening’s events. Our aircraft was now the lead element, and I was still on the flight controls. I started to descend, expecting to find a similar path back under the clouds to lead the flight home. As I continued, the visibility steadily decreased. I stated my observations about the visibility degradation, which was acknowledged, and determined it was due to the rain showers in the vicinity. As we continued to descend and progress to our destination, the rural area we were flying over began to show less cultural lighting. Assuming it was only due to the rural nature, I continued without mentioning it. Suddenly, the singular light I was referencing for visibility disappeared. I immediately transitioned to instrument flight rules (IFR), stated I was inadvertent and began to climb.
The call that our aircraft encountered inadvertent instrument meteorological conditions (IIMC) was made on our inter-flight frequency to conduct a separation and proceed IFR to the airfield. I expected at this point to commit to IIMC and continue with our preplanned recovery. However, the IP told me to hold my climb, as he expected we would soon break out and could proceed without receiving a clearance and recovering IFR. Hesitantly, I did what he instructed, and we did indeed break out as a flight of two and proceeded back the airfield.
Lessons learned
Following the flight, I reflected on the events during our after-action review and the drive back to the hotel with my classmate that had been in the troop commander seat. On the one hand, I am a competent pilot who was experienced as a pilot in command (PC) and air mission commander. On the other hand, the IP/PC held far more competence and experience than I could imagine having at the time, so I allowed him to control the situation without challenge. But what is the cost of following not only the federal regulations, but also the prescribed plan?
Although everything worked out well, there was no true guarantee we would have soon reentered visual meteorological conditions. There were no obstructions or other air traffic between us and our destination. In hindsight, I would have rather continued the climb and directed the PC that we needed to stick with the briefed plan and tune the approach frequency to begin recovery. Ultimately, I relied on the experience of another human over the SOPs, the Federal Aviation Administration-mandated regulation and my better judgment.
My biggest takeaway from this flight was allowing a standby mentality to prevail in a dangerous emergency situation. When flights like this work out well, I think there’s a tendency to forget about them. However, as with all flights, it’s important to take the lessons learned and apply them to the next one to ensure we operate within the most stringent standards to preserve the mission, the force and human lives.