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Simulation For Real: Air Combat USA
by Bob "Groucho" MarksThe Briefing
Standing in front of a dry-erase whiteboard covered in the cryptic hieroglyphics of things air combat, Jesse began to educate us rookies on the dark art of killing another aircraft in flight. "Don't worry about memorizing this stuff," he said, "we'll remind you in the air. The whole idea is to have a good time." Brandishing a pair of stick-mounted fighter model—a F-15 and MiG-21 to be exact—he explained the finer points of the High and Low Yo-Yo offensive maneuvers, and the basics of lag and lead pursuit. Holding one of the models at arms length, he brought the trailing model behind it. "No matter what, " he said, "you are always going to wanna be back here, at Jesse's elbow."
He asked Brad and if we had any flying experience. Brad had a little, while I have quite a bit. I consider myself a very high-time student pilot.
"Believe it or not, that'll probably count against you," said Jesse addressing us both. "People with flight experience tend to be more hesitant to push the Marchetti to the edges of the envelope." Then, Jesse turned and looked at me, "And you, Mr. COMBATSIM, you'll figure out that this ain't no simulator. There's no sim that I can think of that can pull plus five and negative two gees!" He had a point there.
Continuing his briefing, Jesse went over the Air Combat Rules Of Engagement. The rules are few and very simple:
- No engagements closer than 500 feet of separation. "You don't want to get any closer than that in an actual gun engagement anyway," Jesse elaborated. "Parts fly off of the other guy, and you run into them- very messy"
- No head-on kills- attacks from the arc extending from the nine to three o'clock positions are forbidden. "That's to keep us from ending our day in beautiful ballet of rivets." Our instructor has quite a way with words, I was noticing.
- The floor, or "hard deck" of or box was set at 2500 feet over the Pacific Ocean. Whoever busts that altitude first "dies".
- If non-combatant traffic wanders into our area, the fight's off until they wander back out.
- If both combatants lose sight of each other, fights off. Reason? See rule #2.
- There is no rule number six. In fact, Air Combat stresses this rather tortured and grammatically incorrect acronym: IYAC, YAT. "If You Ain't Cheating, You Ain't Trying." Words to live by, indeed.
In the remote chance that something catastrophically bad happens, the finer points of bailing out of the SF-260 were discussed. A weighty subject indeed, but not nearly as weighty as the motion-sickness briefing. "It happens to the best of us," our intrepid leader intoned, "even me. If the urge strikes you, grab the bag, put it over you chin and nose so you don't miss. I've seen that happen more times than I wanna think about. When you are done, use the tie wrap. Don't hand it to me. I don't want it. I may crack the canopy to get some fresh air into the cockpit. And don't throw the bag out of the airplane; it's hard to look good when you taxi back with a six-foot long vomit stripe on your bird."
Sounds reasonable enough, I figured.
The other instructor appeared at the door, fresh from preflighting the Marchettis. He was Air Combat USA co-founder Dennis "Dooley" Jackson, a high-time aerobatic pilot, and my soon-to-be enemy Brad's instructor. "OK, gentlemen," Jesse said, "let's get you geared up."
Back in the locker room, we were fitted with Mae West flotation vests and parachutes and instructed on the do's and don'ts of their use. "The most important thing to remember before you pull the D-ring," Jesse advised, "is to look at it. Don't just grab for it. During your fall the 'chute is your best friend---when you hit the water it becomes your worst enemy." We practiced popping the harness releases. Satisfied that all was in order, he handed me a white HGU-22 helmet adorned with Air Combat USA regalia and grabbed his own. Being a Marine pilot, his helmet bore the camo cloth cover on it that symbolizes their tie to the grunts on the ground. "Alright, my friend. Let's rock & roll."
Instruments? We don't need to look at no stinkin' instruments!
We walked out on the ramp toward our 260 HP mounts. Actually, we swaggered. I now know the truth: fighter pilots don't walk with that "we bad" step out of extraordinary self confidence, it's because all of that gear is damn heavy, and when you are finally unencumbered by it you can't help but walk with a bit of a spring in your step. Another myth deflated. I clambered into the left seat of the surprisingly roomy cockpit, and took a look around while I strapped myself into the four-point harness.
The layout in the Air Combat USA Marchetti is definitely non-standard by civilian aircraft standards. Besides the obvious things---the dual Mk.8 gun sights, for one---there were more subtle differences than most aircraft I have flown. Befitting its primary intended role as a military trainer, there is a throttle on both the left and right side of the seat. Not that I would need them. Since the Marchetti doesn't exactly have a surplus of power, dogfights would be flown exclusively with the throttle handles nailed fully forward against the firewall.
The primary flight instruments are all placed in front of the right-hand instructor's seat, with the radio stack in front of me. As Jesse explained during the briefing when I asked what the best cornering speed of the Marchetti is: "It's 167 knots indicated. But that doesn't matter . . . you won't be looking in the cockpit anyway. Your job is to keep your head on a swivel. You'll pretty quickly be able to judge airspeed by wind noise. Forget the instruments. If you really need to know something, ask me."
The Marchetti's front office
Now you know why HUD's were developed.
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