By Phil Rowe
There is a navigational technique called "minimal flight path" that takes advantage of winds aloft to help conserve fuel and save time. That doesn't necessarily mean avoiding headwinds, but it could minimize their effects. And when it means getting a tailwind, it can really be of benefit.
I mention this because that minimal flight path method was the source of a real problem for Strategic Air Command (SAC) B-52 crews in the early days of airborne alert. It could have gotten us killed. Perhaps I'd better explain.
Back in the late 1950's SAC started flying some of its B-52 crews on 24-hour airborne alert missions. From our Fairchild AFB in eastern Washington, our crews took off at noon on one day and stayed up until noon on the next. They flew armed and loaded bombers ready to retaliate against a Soviet nuclear strike. By remaining aloft those planes were less vulnerable We'd fly west to the Pacific coast and then continue to the 160th meridian. From there we'd turn north and fly up to the Aleutians, turn east and follow the Alaska coast down to Canada's Queen Charlotte Islands. And then we would head west once more and repeat the circuit.
Twice enroute we would refuel behind a KC-135 aerial tanker, taking on about 100,000 pounds of jet fuel each time. There would be 12 or 15 B-52's following that route each day. That's a very expensive operation.
But, getting back to the hazards posed by attempting to fly the minimal flight path, it's now important to visualize a collection of heavy bombers boring through the western skies. In the early days, the first few months after the airborne alert missions started, procedures were a little lax. Bombers took off at five-minute intervals. It wasn't until a plane was airborne to replace one coming home for landing that the plane aloft was permitted to land. SAC had decreed that it would have a certain number of armed and ready planes airborne each and every day.
After takeoff the bombers would head out toward their intended flight path. Soon there would be a string of B-52's in loose trail formation, five minutes apart, tracing a wide circuit through the western skies.
Fuel was always an important concern, for it would never do for a B-52 to run short and be unable to complete it's war mission, should the "GO CODE" message be received. Pilots and copilots frequently checked their fuel status, and navigators were encouraged to seek the flight path, which would minimize fuel consumption. A series of step climbs were made throughout the flight to keep the bombers close to optimum altitude as weight diminished. And some navigators decided to try minimal flight path techniques.
Flying a minimal flight path was a technique, which required the navigator to assess the possible routes of flight that presented either the least headwind or the most tailwind. It was groundspeed and time enroute that became more important than actual miles flown through the air. Employing minimal flight path techniques could seem to be the long way, but when wind advantages or disadvantages were considered the total time flown from A to B could be greatly reduced over simply flying a straight course. Minimal flight paths could save fuel as well as time.
All this is fine providing all bombers in the string fly the same flight path. But when they don't chaos can result. It was stated earlier that things were a little lax in the very early days of airborne alert flying. Considerable discretion was given to crews as to detailed flight path requirements and even altitudes to be flown. Some crews were adamant believers in the benefits of minimal flight path techniques, while others discounted the possible benefits. Hence some crews flew flight paths more optimally than others.
But what happened to make this operation hazardous was having some crews do it while others did not All were required to proceed to points A, B, C and so forth, but how they got there was up to them. There were also required to be at the tanker rendezvous points at precise times and places.
Our first notice of the possible hazard of having crews independently determine how they would proceed from one point to another occurred far out over the Pacific. We were approaching a turning point, the one where we'd turn north from our [out] westerly route, when suddenly we saw a B-52 approaching from our left. It was coming at us at our same altitude and ninety degrees off our port side. We were just seconds from our turning point.
It seems that the crew aboard that other plane, one that had taken off five minutes after us, took a minimal flight path route between the two required checkpoints and had overtaken us. Further, they came to the turning point from a different direction than we'd come. It could have been a real disaster. They may have saved five minutes of flying time, and some fuel, but they could have collided with us too.
Similar incidents were reported by other crews at the post-flight de-briefing. SAC realized that they had a potential problem for mid-air collisions and quickly changed the rules. Either we all flew the same minimal flight path routes or none of us did. And since the merits of the procedure were still controversial, as well as there being a varying ability of some crews to master the technique, those in authority decided that none would fly that way. We were told to fly straight from A to B, and so forth, and maintain a set climb and heading change schedule.
Some navigators were disappointed that they could no longer exercise their professional skills to the utmost, but safety of flight clearly dictated that minimal flight path techniques would be set aside. Fortunately, through all those early days of airborne alert flying, there never was more than a close call or two. We lost no planes and completed our assigned missions satisfactorily.
Your author flew 28 of those grueling 24-hour missions in eight months, from February through September of 1959. It was a great way to build up flight time.