Delta G. David J. Crawford

Dan to send a message to Sonde Logistics requesting a Klystron Tube MICAP. Dan keyed in the message and hit the send button on the krypto set. Dan called back, “Fire in the hole.”

      The message hit the logistics warehouse at Sonde just as Dave walked in. He wanted to be there when it came in to explain the importance of getting that tube out to the site. The Klystron tube was the heart of any radar system. It generated the pulse and radar wave.

      The LogTech understood and placed a MICAP order. He punched in the stock number, got a warehouse location and sent a man out for it. “It says here it’s only three pounds. You plan on walking it over to base ops, Captain?” Dave responded, “Sure, I’ll sign for it.” The LogTech printed out a hand receipt. He signed it, put the box under his arm, ran back out to the warm pickup truck, and raced over to Base Ops.

      He entered the ops center and walked up to the counter. A burley Master Sergeant, stood up and asked, “What can I do for you, Captain?” Dave said, “We’ve got a MICAP situation out at DYE-3. The radar is about to drop offline, unless we get this Klystron tube out there.” The sergeant was very cooperative. It was pounded into every good NCO; you’ve got to support the mission. “We’ve got Raven One that is fueled and we can have it airborne in less than an hour,” he responded. “Thanks, Sergeant, I’ll wait in the lounge.” Dave poured himself a cup of coffee. He’d only had one beer this evening, but he wanted to piss that out of him. The sergeant got on the alert phone and hit the klaxon alarm button. He lived for this. It was like getting to pull the fire alarm in your high school. All over base little red lights started flashing, pagers went off, and phones rang. The alert crew was notified that they had a critical flight and were to report to base ops immediately.

      A few minutes later Major Boop came through the door, followed by his copilot and navigator. He said, “What have you got for us, Sergeant?” The sergeant pointed to Sheridan and said, “You’ve got a MICAP priority run to DYE-3. Their radar is about to go offline.” Dave spoke up. “How are you doing, Major? I need to get this Klystron out to DYE-3 ASAP.”

      Boop responded, “We can accommodate you, Captain. We are fueled and ready to go. My crew chief is just getting ready to off load the dozer. We’ve had the heaters on it since we landed. We can’t get her off until we get the lowboy trailer truck fired up. It won’t start. I’ll tell you what, Sergeant, get on the radio with the crew chief and tell him to leave it on the plane. We’ll off load it when we get back. Can’t afford to let that radar go offline. Glenn, start up a mission plan. Carl, start a pre-flight. I’ll be out in a few minutes.” Both Captains went off in different directions to carry out their orders. Rick gave Dave a thumbs-up and said, “We can be airborne in a half hour.”

      Dave followed the navigator out onto the apron. After they ran up the cargo ramp, the clam shell doors were closed and ramp pulled shut. Dave made his way up to the flight deck and strapped into the jump seat. The ground crew was busy cranking up the AGE carts and blowing warm air into the engine air intakes. Captain Carl Davis, the copilot, secured himself and started the pre-flight. Master Sergeant Bob Svisco, the crew chief, made a quick walk around and then plugged in the headset to the plane’s umbilical. He motioned to the copilot through the cockpit window to fire up the number one engine. The plane came to life and he did the same for the number two engine. Just then, Boop climbed up the flight deck ladder and strapped himself in. He said, “Okay, gentlemen, we’ve got another twelve hours of daylight. We’re in the Arctic, remember. Carl, get departure clearance. As soon as Bob gets in, we’re ready for taxi.” Boop dialed up Ground Control on the radio, “Sonde Ground Control, Raven One with you with the numbers, ready for taxi instruction.”

      “Roger, Raven One. Taxi to runway two three via taxiway alpha and hold short.” Rick acknowledged. Bob climbed on board, closed the cabin door, and hit the intercom, “Clear left and right, load secure, fire up three and four.” Boop acknowledged the crew chief and engines three and four were started.

      The copilot was busy talking with the control tower, writing information on the air charts, and setting radio and navigation frequencies. Captain Glenn Rylah, the navigator sitting behind Dave, was busy crunching the numbers and computing takeoff roll. He punched in the destination coordinates into the Inertial Navigation System (INS) 68º 58’ 45” N by 42º 59’ 40” W. He then got on the intercom and said calmly, “Major, we’re going to need every foot of this runway to get the beast in the air without the JATOs with the dozer on board.” Rick responded coolly, “Roger that, Glenn.” With that said, the plane began its taxi. Immediate takeoff clearance was granted with a VFR flight plan to DYE 3. The weather was clear, and the wind calm. Rick was hoping for at least a little head wind to shorten the takeoff distance. No such luck. Rick lined the C-130 nose gear up on the center line. He set the break, applied full throttle and then changed the propeller pitch. Once full power was achieved he released the breaks and the C-130 lurched down the runway.

      The plane rotated with about 2,500 feet of runway left and sucked up the gear just after liftoff. The plane slowly climbed up and out of the fjord and turned back out over the icecap. Once they reached 5,000 feet Boop dialed in DYE-3 on the radio, “Sob Story, Sob Story, this is Raven One with you on one one niner point two niner.” After a couple of seconds, Dave recognized Dan’s voice on the other end, “Roger, Raven One, Sob Story control. We have you, please say altitude. Squawk one seven zero zero and ident.” The copilot acknowledged and dialed in the radar transponder code 1700. “Raven One, Sob Story Control, understand you have MICAP equipment on board. Please be advised, we are now offline for diagnostics and repair.” It was unusual for the controllers to acknowledge over an open mike that the radar was down. However, this was code for: “Hey, you guys, the radar is offline and we can’t see you. Go fly wherever you want to.” Plus, the fact that the voice data recorder and flight data recorders had been pulled meant that Raven One was now free as a bird.

      Boop nodded to the copilot. He turned around to Dave, the navigator, and the crew chief. He turned the radio console off, and keyed the intercom mike. “Okay, I told you we have a plan. Here it is. We saw something up there near the lake. It showed up on our NAVRAD. It was the only metallic structure other than DYE-3 for a couple hundred miles. We’re going to go find out what it is.”

      Boop continued to brief the crew on the plan, “Once we get up there we are going to circle the lake. We’re not getting any closer than one mile from the edge. We’re not going over the center of it like we did last time, not pressing our luck. We are going to search for the object with our NAVRAD. Once we get a bead on it, we’ll make a low level pass if we haven’t run into thin air. We’ll land, taxi over to it and check her out. Any questions?” No one spoke up. Rick hit the master switch toggle for the radios. He had shut them off just out of precaution. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had accidentally broadcast over the open air when they thought they were speaking on the intercom.

      “We’re going to follow the ice to the lake at about 2,000 feet AGL. The icecap gradually climbs up to about 9,000 feet where we are heading. That will put us at about 11,000 feet above sea level (ASL).”

      As the plane droned on for the next hour a glint of aqua blue tint was showing up just on the horizon. Boop said, “Dial in the NAVRAD, wide beam, fifteen degree down angle.” The navigator complied and the radar screen lit up. “Nothing on it”, said Carl. “Roger that. Make a heading towards DYE-3”, ordered Boop. The navigator spoke up, “DYE-3 should now be two o’clock at three zero miles.” Rick turned the plane to the right and lined up the nose with DYE-3. Just then the radar pinged and lit up like a Christmas tree. Carl said, “Nothing wrong with NAVRAD. Suggest we make a turn to the north after passing ten miles abeam DYE-3 and retrace our steps from last time.”

      “Sounds like a good plan, Carl.” Rick waited a few minutes and then cranked the C-130 over to the left. After he leveled off, there it was, clear as a bell. Something at eleven o’clock out, twenty miles on the NAVRAD screen. The lake was about three miles wide and perfectly circular in shape. It was deep. The bottom was not visible.

      Rick slowed the plane down to two hundred knots and keyed the mike. “It looks like whatever it is, is off to the left side of the lake.” Carl acknowledged, “Roger that, we’re about ten miles out, showing 1,800