Stop that jet; Ground emergency tests Arctic Warriors’ training, teamwork

  • Published
  • By Capt Kelley Jeter
  • 3rd Wing Public Affairs
Stop that jet...
Ground emergency tests Arctic Warriors' training, teamwork

Major Carey Jones had just landed her F-15C after her second sortie of the day when she noticed a problem. 

"After I air-braked and brought the nose down, I noticed that my left brake was a little mushy," she said. Nonetheless, she said the fighter slowed to a halt. 

Major Jones, of the 3rd Operations Group here, would discover later that on landing, the brake shuttle valve on the left brake failed and started a hydraulic-fluid leak. When she stopped at the end of the runway to de-arm, no one realized the extent of the damage. 

"I waited for the EOR (end of runway) crew to get done with my flight lead's aircraft, and they were going to walk over and de-arm me; and as I'm doing my after-landing checks, the jet starts rolling," she recalled. "By this time, I'd lost all my brake pressure, due to the leak on the left side." 

The next few minutes would present a ground emergency that tested Major Jones's training and the teamwork of Elmendorf airmen working the flight line that day. 

Maj. Jones pulled the emergency brake steer handle, redirecting hydraulic fluid and applying brake pressure; but the additional pressure actually sheared a bolt on the brake shuttle valve, completely separating it. 

"So now, hydraulic fluid is gushing from my left-hand side," said Major Jones.
The EOR crew, seeing Major Jones's jet was not in its designated spot, realized she had a brake problem. They quickly chocked the jet and began working their checks.
Though inclined to shut down the engines, Major Jones agreed to continue the checks, thinking her jet was safely chocked, despite the brake problem. 

Unfortunately, this time standard procedure -- chocking one side of the jet -- wasn't sufficient. That wheel was covered in hydraulic fluid and its slick surface managed to slip the chock out of the way. The crew chief re-chocked the wheel, only to watch the jet push it out of the way again. 

"And now, I'm rolling, and I have no brakes, no emergency brakes, no way to stop at all," recalled Major Jones, of 3rd Operations Group. "Both engines are still on and I'm lightweight, which means I'm pretty much in full taxi. 

"Initially, I'm just rolling and I was about to go off into the grass, so I turned right."
That's when it got scary. 

She lost precious hydraulic fluid with each turn of the rolling 32,000-lb aircraft, and had no idea how long she'd be able to control the coasting plane. 

"There's an aircraft to my right and the EOR shack in front of me, and now my crew chief is running beside me, still connected to the jet, and he looks at me and just shrugs his shoulders," she recalled. 

She'd picked up so much speed the crew chief was barely able to disconnect his headset cable in time to prevent being dragged along behind the jet. Major Jones steered away from the EOR shack, pointing down a wide-open taxiway, along which was parked the 12th Fighter Squadron. 

Up to about 25 knots by this time, Major Jones tried to steer away from the parked fighters. She shut down her right engine and not knowing which way she might have to go, called ground control to clear the runway. 

Ground control asked her to repeat, but it was too late. Maj. Jones had shut off her left engine and no longer had electrical power to her radio. 

Her flight lead, Major Nick Guttman of the 3rd Operations Support Squadron, stepped in and let ground control know she needed a clear path. 

Its engines shut down, the jet coasted along at 25 knots, the landscape rushing quietly by. 

"It was sort of a little moment of Zen," said Major Jones. "I'd never been in that situation before. Always before, the emergency brake worked." 

The major said she spotted a crew chief on one of the fighters parked along the taxiway and gave him the signal for chocks. Failing to understand, she said, all he did was wave. 

Frustrated and more than a little scared, Major Jones released the canopy and pushed it up, flung back her mask and started yelling at people nearby, asking for assistance. 

Senior Master Sgt. Richard Lister of the 3rd Aircraft Maintenance Squadron was coming out of a weekly maintenance meeting when he noticed the passing F-15, its canopy open. An F-15 canopy is never open during taxi unless it's being towed, he said. 

"The canopy was open, no engines running, and it was just rolling by," said Sergeant Lister. "Something's not right," he thought, and broke into a run. 

Meanwhile, four crew chiefs of the 12th Aircraft Maintenance Unit noticed the silent jet, tail No. 4002, as it passed spot 3 on the 12th Fighter Squadron's line. 

"Major Jones pushed up the canopy and politely asked for our help," recalled Airman First Class Craig Stewart, smiling. 

Stewart and Airman Luke Workman each grabbed a pair of chocks and sprinted after the helpless jet. Each took one side of the rolling aircraft and simultaneously threw their chocks in front of the wheels. The force of the jet was too much, and the tires just pushed the chocks out of the way. 

Airman First Class Benjamin Crochet, atop another fighter when the runaway jet appeared, and Senior Airman Zachary Drahota, also scrambled to grab chocks and chase No. 4002. 

They passed Stewart and Workman, who were retrieving their castoff chocks for another try. The renegade jet pushed them aside a second time and rolled on. 

Airmen Stewart and Workman leapfrogged with Crochet and Drahota, the four taking turns throwing their chocks until 4002 eventually began to slow. 

On what Drahota figured was the fifth attempt, the jet, with a mighty nose-down pitch forward, finally stopped. 

With smoking hydraulic fluid covering the brakes, Major Jones performed an emergency ground egress and climbed out of the jet, assisted by Senior Master Sgt. Lister. 

After a few breathless moments to collect themselves, the excitement was over. 

Airman Workman estimated the jet rolled past 16 parking spots before it stopped. "It made you realize just how bad it would have been, if we couldn't have stopped it," he said. 

Major Jones recalls all sorts of images flashing through her head, from crashing through parked jets, to taking out chain-link fences and buildings, to getting mired in the mud. 

She credited the teamwork of her fellow Arctic Warriors: Major Guttman, and Airmen Workman, Crochet, Stewart, and Drahota, who stopped the rolling jet and forestalled a potentially bad outcome. 

"We narrowly avoided what would have easily been a Class A mishap that day," said Sergeant Lister.