The 81st Training Wing

20th Fighter Bomber Group
31st Fighter Bomber Group
407th Fighter Bomber Group (515th, 516th, 517th Squadrons)
366th Fighter Bomber Group (389th, 390th, 391st Squadrons)
81st Fighter Bomber Group (78th, 91st, 92nd Squadrons)
15th Fighter Bomber Group (45th, 46th, 47th Squadrons)
21st Fighter Bomber Group (416th Squadron)

The pilots of the TAC and SAC found the F-84F to be a rather difficult plane to fly. Its loaded weight of 20,000 pounds and its landing speed of 155 mph made it a rather "hot" ship for pilots who were more familiar to lighter and slower-landing machines, and it took a bit of getting used to. In addition, the handling properties of the F-84F were somewhat tricky, and certain maneuvers were deemed too dangerous to perform except in extreme emergencies. Nevertheless, the F-84F achieved a reputation for being of extremely robust construction and of Bentwaters 1954 - Arrival of the F-84F fighter bomber and The Thing high reliability, and it offered a relatively smooth ride through turbulent low-level air.

Bentwaters was closed to flying in the late Fall of 1953 after the old F-86s were flown out to France. Over the winter the main 08-26 runway was lengthened to 10,000 feet and overslabbed (strengthened) with a further 1,000 feet of compacted gravel overshoot added to each end. The increased runway length was dictated by the higher landing speed of the F-84F, and it was almost the maximum landing area that could be accommodated within the property held under the ownership of the Ministry of Defence. As a further precaution against problems with higher landing speeds, the 81st Air Base Group civil engineer's office installed the strange, German-built MA-1A runway barrer on the southwest end of the 26 runway. In addition, it built a concrete access road and turnaround with a permanent operational pad for the mobile GCA trailer and coupled generator trailer. This replaced a pierced steel planking (PSP) pad originally laid when the base was re-activated in 1951.

The first F-84Fs began to arrive in the spring of 1954 and were the objects of curiosity by many of the personnel on the base. British civilians were also drawn close to Bentwaters by the new noise hoping to catch a glimpse of the new aircraft as they landed close to the road near the Iken end of the runway. The old F-86s bodies had been polished aluminum and not painted except for squadron markings, but the new F-84F was painted in two-color earth tones as a camouflage, similar to that worn by Royal Air Force aircraft in World War Two.

Those early days after arrival were consumed with trial loadings and unloading of external stores, fitting glass fiber drop tanks to extend the range, and in the far recesses of the base in the woods to the east, there were trial loadings of nuclear tactical weapons, delivered mostly at night in C-120 transports. These weapons were stored in newly constructed and hardened structures.

The increased take-off loading with additional fuel and heavy stores tested to the limit the power of the F-84F's single Wright J-65 engine. To increase the margin of safety, pilots of the 91st and 92nd began practicing with assisted take off (ATO) rockets attached to disposable mounting brackets near the rear of the fuselage. The profuse foul-smelling smoke emitted by the Teledyne rockets after firing pervaded the tech site and created much criticism by the ground staff, such as firemen and aircraft maintenance workers required to be out doors, and also from offices near the flight line.

In the early summer of 1954 the pilot of an F-84F attempted to abort a takeoff and called the tower for the protection of the runway barrier. Although the barrier deployed the aircraft failed to engage it properly and came to rest with the pilot unhurt off the end of the soft overrun at the end of runway 26. The aircraft was extensively damaged, and the unarmed nuclear weapon was also damaged.

Col. Harold Holt, the new, forceful, cigar-eating, and feared commander of the 81st called for a full post mortem of the accident, and to the Fire Marshall, Maj. William (Meanie) Maney, commander of the Base Civil Engineer squadron, he demanded, "Why doesn't your goddamn rabbit catcher work?" He was referring to the MA-1A runway barrier and he made it clear that heads would roll if it was found to be one of his boys that had lost the first brandnew F-84F on active service through negligence.

To test the effectiveness of the runway barrier, an aging open cab General Motors Air Force 6X6 truck No. USAF 4689881 was requisitioned from the motor pool and modified. The wheels and struts of the crashed F-84F were salvaged and bolted on fabricated steel false-work rigged to the front of the truck to replicate the aircraft, and the truck bed was filled with PSP to weigh 20,000 pounds, the weight of a loaded F-84F at takeoff. To give more authenticity, the front underbelly shape of the F-84F was fashioned from sheet metal. Extra wheels were added to the front pair of the original truck to improve the load carrying (albeit at the expense of steering control).

Fig 1: The Thing showing the steel false-work rigged to carry the salvaged landing struts and wheels of an F-84F to exactly the correct dimensions as the aircraft.

The daring plan was to have the as-yet unknown "pilot" of the contraption—which became known as The Thing—begin his roll down runway 26 from the northeast threshold, cog through the gear box to achieve maximum speed as soon as possible. At that point the pilot would shift to neutral and fire the four ATO rockets attached to the rear. It was hoped the vehicle would then reach realistic speeds of an aircraft aborting takeoff; say 120mph.

ATO rockets burned for about 45 seconds, and much planning was done to decide where The Thing would reach maximum engine-driven speed and where the thrust from the rockets would drive the vehicle to the point of maximum speed just before it engaged with the runway barrier.

Then came the question of who would drive the lethal-looking contraption? Col. Holt quickly and secretly decided that question. The next officer to be stopped by police off-base for speeding was his candidate, he told his Exec. He had to wait only a few days, and a young 2nd Lt. was logged in a speed trap on the Woodbridge by-pass.

"You have a choice," he told the young engineering officer. "You can suffer the fine from the civil court and detention from your commanding officer, or you can accept my punishment."

Not unsurprisingly, the officer chose Col. Holt's option: to drive The Thing--as fast as he could!

Flying at Bentwaters was closed down on the first Saturday after finishing touches had been done to The Thing. Markers were set by the side of the runway to signify the last point where the driver must fire the ATO rockets. A crowd of interested watchers gathered on the southwest corner of Runway 26. Cameras were readied, then the signal to begin the roll was transmitted by Maj, Maney over the two-way radio. It seemed like a long time elapsed before the shape of The Thing appeared over infamous Hill of the main runway, and then suddenly there was a mighty bang and the ATO rockets fired.

Fig 2: The Thing at speed on the first run. It has just crashed through the nylon webbing with its nose gear but failed to raise the steel cable that should have lodged high up the main struts before gathering anchor chain behind it. The cable was designed to transfer the kinetic energy of the vehicle to the static mass of the anchor chain lying by the side of the runway until a total transfer had been made and no further forward motion of the vehicle was possible. The run was considered a failure.

Close examination after the test revealed several important points. First the driver rightly believed The Thing had failed to be properly arrested and he fired his reverse thrust ATO rockets in an attempt to stop the vehicle. The slow motion film showed the nylon webbing parted from the hold-down points before the steel cable was thrown high enough to engage the struts effectively. Marks on the fairings of the salvaged undercarriage showed the cable marks of the original emergency were similar to those of Test Number One. A post mortem briefing with operators and riggers of the barrier revealed that in order to raise the nylon webbing as high as possible, the headline was over-tensioned and the shear pins connecting it to the steel stanchions were deformed and they sheared at a much lower force than was called for in the design.

It should be remembered that no MA-1A barrier installed in the field had ever been called for in an emergency, so crews and fire departments throughout the United States Air Force that were flying F-84Fs (see list of units at top of story) were following the same reasoning as Bentwaters firemen. To make the contraption work, the nylon webbing just had to be tensioned up to keep the catenary curve in the head line as straight as possible. Right?

The following Saturday flying was again shut down at Bentwaters. Senior officials from 3rd Air Force H.Q. in Ruislip and Commanders from other squadrons flying F-84Fs intrigued by stories and rumors from the first test run, gathered by the side of the runway. At the command to go, the driver of The Thing, emboldened now by his experience, cogged through his screaming gear box, and on reaching the marker, fired his rocket engines, now increased from four to six. The noise of the bang from their firing came after the great cry went up from the watching crowd on both sides of the runway "Here he Comes!"

Fig 3: The nose gear of The Thing has engaged the nylon webbing on this second run, stretched the webbing suspended between the stanchions, popped the press-studs to free the steel cable, and throwing it high before the modified shear pins shear away. The cable can be seen making a sinusoidal wave as it becomes airborne before the landing gear struts just before it. The Thing, the fastest truck ever built by General Motors was quietly retired and scrapped after this successful second run.

The Thing engaged the barrier with a loud twang as the nylon stretched like a massive hunting bow, and instantly there was an increasingly loud bell-like noise as hundreds of tons of 55lb. anchor chain jumped around and absorbed the energy from the vehicle. Before The Thing came safely to a stop on the overshoot of the runway, the anchor chain was all used up and it rose from the ground before coming to back to earth in a loud, clanking thud. Then, there was only a silence until a great shouting and whooping broke out from the onlookers.

There were congratulations all round. The Thing was towed away in triumph before yielding to the cutting torches in obscurity the following week. It was rumored it had reached 140mph, but there was no way of verifying that figure. All MA-1A barriers throughout the Air Force were modified, and the standing operating procedures rewritten.

Fig 4: Derrick Booth, the author, taking record pictures during the examination of The Thing on the first run at the runway barrier. Booth worked as an engineering assistant to the 81st ABG.

Some months later an F-84F pilot going very fast hollered for the barrier from those on duty in the tower at Bentwaters. Up came the stanchions, released by solenoids controlled from the tower. Slam went the runaway F-84F. The cable engaged correctly, and to those looking through binoculars from the tower it appeared that the plane had been snagged without calamity. But what the watchers failed to notice was that all the anchor chain was used up and there was still forward motion on the aircraft. The last 100 feet of the chain on each side of the runway was airborne, as with the second test, but this time the heavy battleship chain whip-lashed in the air and broke into several links and sections of chain. They were thrown many feet, some were never recovered. Fortunately, there were no accidents, the pilot was unharmed, and the aircraft was only superficially damaged.

The MA-1A runway barrier still sees service with the U.S. Air Force.

© 1999 Derrick Booth. All rights reserved.