T-Tail-Tall-Tail:
Torturing Air Force Academy Cadets
PsyOps on NORTHPAC
    Kent Davis
C141 Nav 1972-1991
    Long boring over water flights sometimes lent
        themselves to practical jokes
        and one of those routes was our North Pacific route
        that took us very close to
        Russian Kurile Islands. One such flight lent us a
        great opportunity to liven up
        our flight and throw a scare into a young Air Force
        Academy Cadet.
    
        During the mission pre-brief we took time to point
        out the dangers of flying
        close to Soviet territory. Then as the flight
        progressed the pilot kept asking
        me, the navigator, over and over again if we were
        alright.
    
        Late into the flight as we neared the Russian
        boarder I suddenly became very
        animated and agitated and finally exclaimed to the
        pilot, "Oh, my God! I've
        made an error. We're over Russian territory!!"
    
        "You idiot, what in the hell have you done? You know
        damn well they'll shoot us
        down if they catch us. What can we do?"
    
        "Well, if you speed up we'll be out of here in 15
        minutes and be safe and
        nobody will know we strayed over Russia."
    
        With that the Pilot pushed up the throttles, told
        the co-pilot to keep an eye
        open for Russian Migs and sent the scanner and
        load-master to the back of the
        aircraft to watch out the back for fighter aircraft,
        which might come up behind
        us.
    
        After the scanner and load-master had gone to the
        rear, I started to panic
        telling the pilot, "Faster! Faster!!", until the
        engineer exclaimed, "You'll
        rip the wings off if you go any faster".
    
        As the flight continued the pilot kept asking, "Are
        we were there yet? While I
        continued to mumble, "Faster! Faster!!" and poured
        over my charts.
    
        While this went on our poor cadet sat in the jump
        seat between the pilots
        looking very concerned and worried.
    
        Then with a call from the load-master things really
        get moving.
    
        "Pilot, load ... there is Mig coming up behind us
        and he is wagging his wing."
        (An international aircraft maneuver telling you to
        pull over and follow him to
        his base.)
    
"Load, pilot ... do you and the scanner have your
        guns?
    
"Yes, sir."
    
"Nav ... how much further?"
    
"Just a half minute more and we'll be over
        international waters. If you could
        just push up the speed a little more."
    
"Load ... I'll have the engineer depressurize the
        cargo compartment and when he
        dose you open the rear hatches and fire on him, to
        get him to back off."
    
"Yes, sir."
    
"Engineer ... depressurize the cargo compartment."
    
"Yes, sir". And the engineer furiously scrambled to
        adjust the knobs on his
        panel and then said, "Sir, the cargo compartment is
        depressurized."
    
"Load, scanner .... Open the back hatch and fire some
        warning shots at him."
    
Within a couple of seconds the scanner grabbed the
        latrine door, which is in
        the cargo compartment just below the crew
        compartment and slammed it several
        time, to simulate gun fire. And each time the door
        slammed our victim jumped
        and beads of sweat begin popping out on his brow, as
        he clung tightly, with
        white knuckles, to the small bar in front his seat.
    
At this point the engineer began to loose control and
        he put his head down on
        his arms and desk to keep from laughing in front of
        the cadet. But to the cadet
        it looked like he was sobbing.
    
"Pilot, load .... I don't think he liked us shooting
        at him and it appears he's
        going to fire a missile."
    
"Oh, my God, Nav, what have you done? This bastard is
        going to kill us all!"
        With that the pilot turned the plane sharply to the
        left.
    
With my back to the cadet I'd been rubbing my eyes
        and they were now red and
        puffy and as I turn to face the pilot and the cadet
        I said, "Yes, sir, sorry, no excuse sir."
    
Then came the coup d'état "Pilot," the load
        screamed, "he's firing a
        missile. Do something!!
    
And that was the end for our poor cadet, who then
        stood up to exclaim, "I don't
        want to die, I don't want to die!"
    
And so it went, hours and hours of tedious boredom
        punctuated with minutes of
        sheer terror.