DANIEL JOHNSON

In early 2008, when I was a new Soldier with just over a year in service, I was assigned to Fort Sill by the Oklahoma National Guard to work in the control tower at Henry Post Army Airfield. I was there to get my FAA control tower operator certificate. During my training, I observed several interesting events, but the day of a near miss sticks out in my mind.

It was a sunny spring day and there was a GSAB from the California National Guard conducting premobilization training at Fort Sill. I was working the ground position unsupervised because I had recently been signed off to work ground. Since the weather was so nice, there were an unusual number of operations taking place that day. In addition to the ARNG unit, there was an extraordinarily high number of airplanes from Shepard Air Force Base coming through to conduct various instrument approaches. The Air Force frequently used Fort Sill to practice PAR, ASR and ILS approaches as well as flame-out patterns. All of these aviation operations, as well as artillery live fire in the ranges, made for a busy Class D airspace.

In the afternoon, a UH-60 Black Hawk called requesting taxi instructions. This particular aircraft wanted to take off from the runway and depart the pattern. So when he requested to taxi, I gave him the standard instructions to taxi to the active runway at that time, Runway 17. The clearance I gave was somewhere along the lines of, “Black Hawk 030, post ground, taxi to Runway 17. Winds 180 at 10, altimeter 29.92.” This is a standard piece of phraseology that all pilots, military and civilian, should hear frequently. It means the pilot is to taxi to and hold short of Runway 17 at the hold short line and await further instructions.

The aircraft proceeded from its parking spot down the parallel taxiway. However, instead of holding short at the runway, the pilot decided to taxi onto the runway and begin conducting a hover power check. He made no request to taxi onto the runway or come to a hover. What the pilot and crew of that aircraft were not aware of was that at the time of their runway incursion, there was an Air Force T-38 conducting a PAR approach on a one-mile final to Runway 17.

During a PAR approach, the local controller has no radio contact with the aircraft conducting the approach. The only person who communicates with the aircraft for the duration of the approach is the PAR controller. The local controller gives landing clearance, as well as any other instructions, to the PAR controller, who then relays them to the pilot. It is the responsibility of the local controller to keep the path clear for the aircraft conducting the approach. Any emergency instructions must go through the PAR controller and that takes precious time.

As I watched the aircraft cross the hold short line and take off, I began yelling at him over the radio, as did the local controller, because at this point we didn’t know what frequency the pilot was monitoring. One way or another, the pilot decided he knew better than the air traffic controllers and continued to do what he wanted. So the local controller had to relay side-step and go-around instructions through the PAR controller to the aircraft. The T-38 was on very short final when it careened out of the way, just missing the UH-60. An OHR was filed against the UH-60 that day.

The moral of the story is words have meaning. When instructions are not understood and followed, there is a potential for catastrophic consequences. It is incumbent upon aviation professionals to understand every aspect of their job to provide for the safest operations possible.