A Trip Down the Memory Lane

by Wg Cdr Tariq M Ashraf

A few days back, I was doing what most pilots who are newly posted to desk jobs often do - nostalgically leafing through the pages of my flying log book.  Scanning through the page for April 1978, I came across an entry for a mission the details of which are fresh in my mind even to this day. This fairly innocuous entry read:

       “F-6 7721 Self Solo OPMR-OPSR 1:10”

I know precisely what you are thinking?  What could be so special about a routine ferry mission?  Well, you will have to stay in step with me as I go down memory lane to find out why this entry has more significance for me than a mere ferry sortie.

In April 1978, I was a young Flying Officer who had come out of the OCU barely six months back.  My squadron had been deployed from Sargodha to Masroor with most of the young and inexperienced pilots remaining behind in Sargodha .  It was on a Thursday afternoon that a message was received from the OC that due to certain technical problems, the Masroor detachment needed two more aircraft to be ferried immediately to Masroor.  I along with another Flying Officer (who was a pair leader) were detailed for this mission.   In that frenzy of exuberance which only the really young are capable of demonstrating, we ferried the aircraft to Masroor uneventfully and the same evening, were snugly ensconced in the Rex Cinema watching the movie “The Exorcist”.

The next day we were required to ferry two aircraft back to Sargodha .  We duly booked a flight plan and took a detailed route forecast from the Met Officer who informed us that we could expect an area of clouds about 50 NM North of Masroor between 9000 and 12000 feet with the rest of the route being generally clear.  After getting airborne we joined up in battle formation and initiated our climb.

When we entered the clouds at around 10000 feet, I was on the right of my leader in battle formation.   Keeping in mind the Met forecast we did not deem it necessary to collapse into close formation and decided to penetrate the clouds in battle formation.  This would have worked out fine had the Met report been accurate but it was not to be so.   Having entered the clouds at 9000 feet, we finally broke clouds cover passing through 34000 feet.  All that while there was not a word that passed between me and the leader on the R/T.  After levelling on top of the clouds, both of us looked for every other but could not establish visual contact was continuously scanning on my left while my leader was looking everywhere on his right side me but to no avail.  It was only during a random glance to my right side that I picked up the leader flying abreast me albeit slightly low in immaculate battle formation.  It was then that it dawned on me that during our climb through the clouds we had somehow managed to cross each other’s path and reverse our positions without even realizing what was happening.

The rest of the ferry was another story.  We continued to fly between 35000 and 39000 feet to stay clear of the clouds and did not have contact with the ground at any stage to add to our problems, none of the radars on the air on the particular day deemed it necessary to paint us. 

After having flown for almost an hour, my leader decided that we should be in the vicinity of home and asked me to get into close formation for a penetration through the clouds.  I do not exactly remember the manoeuver that I performed but I managed to close in too fast and as my leader was entering the clouds, I lost visual and pulled up to avoid hitting him.   Luckily, however, I managed to regain control of my pack – of – roaring – power (unusual attitude recoveries do sometimes come in handy, you know) and after waiting for some time, commenced an independent descent.  At no stage did I inform my leader of my actual predicament except for announcing no contact (fighter pilot’s ego?).

Anyway, to cut the long story short, both of us broke clouds about 20 NM North of Chund Bridge and were able to land back without much further ado (needless to say, MUM was the word as far as the events of the mission were concerned).  Half an hour after landing, I heard a senior pilot telling my leader that he had been scheduled to take another aircraft to Masroor the same day.  Not surprisingly, rather than recount the story of the previous mission, he accepted this new task.  When I asked him why he had accepted to fly back to Masroor the same day, his nonchalant reply was, “come on, it wouldn’t be any worse than what it was in the morning, would it?”

You must be thinking about the moral of the story and I will leave you to dwell on that since I have to scan through the remaining pages of my log book.

Published in PAF Flight Safety News Letter - 3/93