Walleye Caper: Page 4

In due time the two researchers returned to present their findings. That many years ago professors and researchers hadn't the luxury of today's desktop and laptop computers and vast array of software to help solve their problems. Our friends had to make their calculations the old fashioned way--with brainpower. By the time they returned neither my friend, the waitress nor myself were much interested in fish, the weather or hydraulics. But out of respect for the hardworking duo we listened to their presentation the gist of which was that a hydraulics solution was feasible. It would require a mass of 365.000 pounds, dropped from an altitude of five feet at selected points on the ice. But the question was, " Where do we obtain such a force?" Expectant eyes turned to me and tacitly asked, "Can you do it?"

My shielded response was that three C-130's operating at maximum gross weight, at about five feet above the ice could drop a mass equivalent of 372,000 pounds. This weight should be more than adequate to satisfy the specified requirements. "But can you do it?" the Comish asked. "Yes," I replied, "we need all the training we can get."

"When?"

"In two days," I said. "We need a day to survey the site and you need time to clear the ice of fishermen."

"I also have another suggestion, about thirty minutes before impact we should place an aircraft on the ice with one of our instructor pilots in command. His mission: train novice pilots on ski-taxi techniques."

"The instructor I have in mind will create enough excitement among the dormant fish to stir them from their comfortable nests and prepare them for their eventual journey to Piscis "Valhalla."

So it was agreed, and a vow of secrecy was exchanged among the five planners. We toasted this solemn occasion with the contents of a fresh bottle of the Prize Schnapps. The waitress joined in the toast, she had no idea why and couldn't care less. I hope that delightful Nordic goddess wasn't the rat who revealed our secret operation.

The next morning I made a dry run to the lake, marked the impact area and the critical points along the final approach for altitudes, power control and formation separation; key check points essential to the success of the mission. Following the site survey, I flew back to the airport, selected air crews and briefed the mission. D-Day was established for the following morning with H-Hour at 1400Z.

The mission was unofficially designated as a stress test for the 5,000 pound ski undercarriage attached to the C-130. For that reason, the air crews were not aware of the true purpose of the mission. Their veracity, therefore, could never be challenged. That is why I was the only participant who knew its real purpose.

One of our instructor pilots, AKA, "Popeye," was briefed on his role. He was given explicit instructions to make max power taxi runs across the length and breadth of the lake for thirty minutes and depart the lake area by 1350Z.

Later in the day, the aircraft were serviced with a maximum load of fuel. Bags filled with sand were loaded into the cargo compartment to the extent necessary to raise the weight of the aircraft to the maximum permissible take-off weight of 124,500 pounds.

The next morning, D-Day, dawned like many other Minnesota winter days: clear skies, sub freezing temperatures, light, variable winds. A perfect day for our operation.

At the prescribed time we started our aircraft and after a communications check, taxied to the active runway. We took off on schedule and joined into our standard "V" formation while climbing to flight altitude. Before turning to the long initial approach I decided to call "Popeye" to make sure he was clear of the target area:

"Popeye, this is Wing one, position?"

"Wing one, Popeye. Departing Red Wing on heading of 360 degrees climbing through 4000 feet."

"Roger Popeye, climb to 20,000 and hold on 090/ 50 Bemidji OMNI and stand by."

"Roger Wing one, out."

With Popeye air borne we turned to the final approach heading of 352 degrees, 25 miles South of our target. We descended to 1500 feet at ten miles and 500 feet at 5 miles. At three miles we were at 50 feet and spread the formation- three abreast about 500 feet wing tip to wing tip.

Holding that formation, we descended to tree- top altitude and crossed the Southern shore of the lake.

"Wing 2 and 3, reduce power to flight Idle- now."

"Skis- down, Wheels- up, Flaps- up!"

"Stay in formation," I directed.

We continued our descent to about 5 feet as we skimmed across the snow covered frozen lake. Still in flight idle power position, our air speed dropped rapidly and at about 90 knots the flight controls became sloppy and responded reluctantly. But we held off; held off until suddenly the inevitable happened--all three aircraft stalled simultaneously and dropped violently on the ice- precisely at H-Hour.

"Wing aircraft, max power; take off on current heading, rejoin in close formation and report."

"Wing one, this is two; rejoining on right wing- all's well."

"Wing one, this is three; joining on left, no problems."

"Roger, stand by."

"Popeye, this is Wing one, do you read?"

"Roger Wing one, five by five."

"Popeye return to Red Wing and make a detailed surveillance of the lake surface and report your findings."

"Roger, Wing one."

As we climbed to altitude for the return flight, Popeye called:

"Go ahead Popeye."

"I see nothing unusual, but wait one,"

 

Continued on page five...

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