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In the Soup

In the Soup

CHIEF WARRANT OFFICER 2 HECTOR N. FUENTES
25th Combat Aviation Brigade
Wheeler Army Airfield, Hawaii

I was a pilot in command (PC) with more than 850 hours and about 175 night vision goggle (NVG) hours, flying with my company standardization pilot (SP), who had triple the number of hours. We had two experienced crew chiefs in the back. We were Chalk 2 on a flight of two aircraft flying a night mission to multiple forward operating bases (FOB) in Afghanistan. Our company was in the middle of change-of-command inventories and part of the mission was to fly our incoming and outgoing commanders to several FOBs so they could conduct inventories for the equipment handover.

The weather was briefed as clear throughout the flight until the last portion, which called for low ceilings at a mountain pass. We all agreed that if we sped up the inventories, we could beat the incoming weather that would block us from going through the pass to make it back home. We had been flying with the current commander in Chalk 1 and our incoming commander in our aircraft with no issues. We were an hour ahead when inventories were completed at the last FOB. The weather brief was a go with ceilings broken at 8,000 feet. But if we wasted any more time, it could become an issue.

The last portion of the flight was during the night, so we were flying back to the house under NVG. I was on the controls, sitting front right, and everything was going great. We were staggered left with a three- to five-disk separation, leveled about 6,000 feet mean sea level.

I noticed the ceilings starting to get lower and lower the farther we flew toward the pass, and the visibility wasn’t any better. Our initial solution was to slow down, get a little lower to avoid the layer of clouds and tighten up the formation so we didn’t lose Chalk 1. Both aircrews had flown this route multiple times under red illum conditions and were very familiar with it. However, as we got closer to the pass, the terrain we could normally see from a long distance wasn’t clear. Throughout the flight, I looked under my goggles to see if I could make out any ground lights that could help us assess the current weather conditions. With the last check, I noticed the googles were starting to help me see through some of the obstruction.

In my cockpit, we started discussing turning around and how comfortable the crew felt. We communicated the idea to Chalk 1, and they said they could still make out terrain features. They were comfortable to proceed though the pass if we were good, so we continued.

As we entered the pass, we were as slow and low as we could go. The ceiling or visibility wasn’t getting any worse or better, and we could still make out the terrain and Chalk 1 and their infrared (IR) lights. I saw Chalk 1 make a slight right turn as we entered, so I started my turn as well, keeping Chalk 1 at my 2 o’clock. During our standard rate turn, however, I started to notice I could barely see the airframe features of Chalk 1 or their IR lights. I knew that going through this pass, with high terrain on both sides, we would not be turning too much.

Within seconds of leveling out after our turn, the visibility started to become a factor to the point that I could no longer make out the entire portion of the airframe. But I could still see Chalk 1’s IR lights. I expressed to the cockpit that I could barely see Chalk 1, and my right-side crew chief stated the same. I was reaching my comfort threshold and announced to the crew I was inadvertent. I then started my climb even though Chalk 1 had not announced inadvertent yet.

Before I could transition to my instruments, I started to experience spatial disorientation (SD). My head was concentrating on the aircraft at my two o’clock but it felt like it was going another way, and I had that overwhelming tumbling feeling. When I transitioned to my instruments, I noticed I was in a slow bank out of trim, so I slowed down.

What do I do now? Do I let my Alpha male attitude get the best of me and try to recover the aircraft on my own with an aircraft full of passengers just to show my SP and new commander I am a high-speed pilot? Or do give up the controls? At the same time, right before entering the slight right turn in the pass, my SP announced the weather was not what we were briefed and he was going to tell Chalk 1 to turn around. As soon as he looked back up from switching his selector switch to talk to Chalk 1, I heard him say, “$#*%!” It was too late to turn around; we were in the soup.

I leveled the aircraft as best as I could. I then started my climb and said, “I am going inadvertent and you’ve got to take the controls. I’m experiencing SD.” My SP took the controls, continued the climb and leveled the aircraft. It took me about five full seconds to recover from my SD, which seemed like five minutes. Once I was back in action, I was able to help announce corrections on the cockpit indicators and punch in the emergency approach on the FMS to the nearest FOB, which was less than 10 miles away.

Once we were out of the pass, it was VFR weather and we were able to get back home with no issues. During our after-action review, I was commended for giving up the controls while suffering SD and fighting the urge to do everything on my own. Sometimes, swallowing your pride is necessary to ensure a good outcome to a bad situation.

  • 5 November 2023
  • Author: USACRC Editor
  • Number of views: 185
  • Comments: 0
Categories: On-DutyAviation
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