T-Tail-Tall-Tail:
T-TAIL GESYER
George Levanduski
It was a warm, beautiful spring day, with the
coldness of the ocean water pushing a clean
refreshing breeze inland from the east, in contrast
to the usual poison-air land-source directions.
Parked aircraft were receiving a mild tailwind, and
every crew chief had the cockpit side windows open
to take advantage of the pleasant conditions. The
date and tail number involved were not recorded.
My task, now that the aircraft had returned with a
defect that was identified just prior to its
departure on a mission, was to remove and replace a
spoiler asymmetry detector switch located in front
of the outer flaps. However, the switch was not
exposed for access with the flaps retracted.
Moreover, a hydraulics mechanic had gone up into the
T-tail to start a stipulated modification (time
compliance tech order) on the elevator hydraulic
pack, disallowing any use of the No. 3 system pumps.
I sent the crew chief on an interior climbing
mission to request reversal of the work if practical
so that I could use the pumps for a one-time running
of the flaps. He came back with the request granted,
provided there would be absolutely no further
activation of the pumps afterwards.
Shortly after turning on the pumps, I heard a single
distant metallic bang, but did not realize its
possible significance. As I lowered the flaps, I
noticed some occasional wisps of what appeared to be
white smoke drifting by, sometimes increasing
disturbingly. I stuck my head out the copilot's
window and looked back, but did not see anything
revealing despite some thorough scrutinizing around
ground level, and was about to dismiss the incident,
when more smoke appeared. A look upwards revealed a
shocking sight.
A huge, gushing geyser was blasting straight up out
of the top of the T-tail, going more than 30 feet
above the T-tail, with the top curling over the
aircraft and producing a fine mist. It was truly
awesome, much like the real Old Faithful. I rushed
to turn off the pumps, causing the geyser to
collapse, and sent the crew chief back up to
determine any rescue needs while I followed part way
below to stay within voice communication reach.
Fortunately, the hydraulics man was OK. When the
unfortunate man came down from the T-tail, it was
obvious that he was thoroughly soaked from head to
toe. He had forgotten about a threaded plug that was
screwed in by only a few threads. When the plug gave
way to the pressure build-up, it shot out like a
bullet, hitting the side of the vertical stabilizer
from within. The powerful and dangerous
high-pressure jet of escaping fluid barred his exit
route, holding him prisoner, forcing him to wait and
endure until cessation. It might have been even more
oppressive if the top hatch wasn't open. His firmest
comment was, That's it, I'm not doing anymore favors
like that for anyone.
Partial payback came about 20 years later when I was
assisting a subordinate who was above me on top of a
liquid-filled transformer outside of some college
dormitories, adding fluid from a 5-gallon can. An
unfavorable wobble sloshed fluid all over the front
of my shirt.
George Levanduski, Tsgt, Reserves-Civil Service