Hey Y'all...Watch This! Published Aug. 28, 2013 By Master Sgt. Julie Meintel 445th Airlift Wing WRIGHT-PATTERSON AIR FORCE BASE, Ohio -- When I'm looking for information on flying safety, I go straight to the experts. I do research in the published regulations, and I go see the flying safety guys. Recently I happened to luck into two flight safety officers in one day, Lt Col Steve Griffin, current chief of safety for my wing, and Lt Col Bill Barton, his predecessor, so I asked them about incidents and accidents that are attributable to just plain stupid mistakes. The first words out of both of their mouths were, "The absolute last thing you ever want to hear a pilot say over the intercom is 'Hey you guys ... watch this.'" We talk a lot about specific causes of accidents, like different types of weather phenomena, terrain, mechanical malfunction or failure -- even crew coordination and risk management. Risk management is another way of saying "avoiding stupid mistakes." We all make them from time to time; if we're lucky, we'll catch ourselves or someone will catch us before something catastrophic happens. But sometimes that doesn't happen, and when those mistakes go unnoticed, disaster strikes. Here's one tragic example of a pilot who broke from the rules, trying to have a little fun and give his family a private airshow. In 2000, Maj Stephen Simons, a reserve F-16 pilot, was flying his jet from Hill AFB in Utah, to Naval Air Station Fort Worth Joint Reserves Base at Carswell Field, Texas, when he decided to do a flyover at his in-laws' home. According the accident report, Maj Simons "breached flight discipline in attempting to perform unauthorized aerobatic maneuvers." The accident investigation further determined that the pilot was "executing a low altitude loop when his attention became too focused on the point on the ground where he intended to complete the maneuver." Because he paid too much attention to that one detail while he was performing the loop, he did not keep track of his altitude, airspeed and dive angle, and unfortunately was not able to pull out of the loop before his aircraft impacted the ground. The accident report also indicated that Maj Simons did not attempt to eject from the aircraft. This was no brand new pilot straight out of school and anxious to show off; Maj Simons was an experienced aviator with over 3,000 flying hours in the USAF who was employed as a commercial pilot flying for a major airline at the time of his death. One article about the crash stated that this particular incident was not the first time Maj Simons had performed a flyover for his in-laws; he had done that perhaps 8 to 10 times over his 19-year career. Clearly, he felt like he was in control and that nothing could go wrong, even though he was violating explicitly stated Air Force policy. A classic example of a breakdown in flight discipline and failure of leadership to intervene is the 1994 B-52 crash at Fairchild AFB, WA, that you have probably heard about or studied. This accident was a practice flight for an airshow that went horribly wrong when the pilot exceeded limitations on his aircraft by banking at too steep an angle at too low an altitude, which caused an accelerated stall that left the pilot no time to recover. The subsequent investigation revealed that the pilot had a history of breaches of flight discipline and flying the aircraft beyond its limitations, also known as "hot dogging." He was something of a legend at Fairchild AFB and was known for his bravado. The video of the horrific crash is easily found on many aviation-related websites and on YouTube, and is a cautionary tale for crewmembers and commanders alike. In the end, the squadron commander of the mishap pilot pled guilty to dereliction of duty for failing to respond adequately to complaints about the pilot, as well as ensuring approval from various agencies for the maneuvers that the pilot planned. The charges included the commander's failure to ensure that the pilot operated the aircraft within its recommended range for maximum bank angle. An accident of the most preventable type happened in 2004 when a T-6 crew took off on a cross-country mission, stopping overnight in Savannah, GA. The crew of two decided to meet some friends for dinner and then the five of them went to a bar to have a few drinks. Now, there is no regulation that says you can't have a couple of beers on crew rest, but there is very specific guidance as to how long you must wait between drinking and flying. It's the old "12 hours, bottle to throttle" rule; Air Force Instruction 11-202, General Flight Rules, clearly states that aircrew shall not consume alcoholic beverages within 12 hours of takeoff. When the regulation says shall not, that's it; no if's, and's or but's. Subsequent reports tell us that this group of five friends consumed a total of 33 alcoholic drinks and paid their bar tab at about 11 pm. The two-man T-6 crew got up at 7 a.m., performed a quick preflight just before 9 a.m. and took off, approximately two hours shy of the 12-hour minimum window between drinking and flying. After take-off, the pilot performed an aggressive closed pull-up maneuver, but what he didn't do was keep his airspeed and bank angle above the minimums, which resulted in an accelerated stall and complete loss of aircraft control. Both pilots were killed in the crash. What can we take away from this incident? Common sense and basic math says that 33 drinks among five people is excessive, especially when the two aircrew members knew they had to fly in the morning. Information gathered after the fact revealed that during their first day of flying, this crew flew "several unauthorized and illegal aerial maneuvers," or flybys, with three of them occurring at altitudes as low as 50 feet; additionally, two of those three were near homes. These pilots were not flying by the rules; they, too, were "hot-dogging." They showed poor judgment throughout, and while not every episode of poor judgment ends this badly, these pilots paid a steep price for their reckless behavior. These three random examples of catastrophic aviation accidents can be chalked up to dumb mistakes. Looking back, it's easy to see how many times in the sequence of events someone could have, should have, said, "Hey, wait a minute. This is probably not a good idea." What made these flyers think that breaking the rules was okay? What made them think they were still in control of the situation? As flyers, we are trained from the beginning that safety is paramount; we should never fly ourselves into a situation we can't fly out of, and we should never endanger our crews, our aircraft, or ourselves. Sure, it might seem like fun to push the envelope a little, but is it really worth what could happen? Losing your job or having your flight status revoked, as bad as that sounds, is a far lighter consequence than many pay for what seems like a minute or two of harmless "fun." Don't be a victim of the statement that no flying safety officer wants to hear ... "Hey y'all, watch this!" Fly safe, and watch your wingman!