Albeit one that will have our local anti American / KOTY gazoonies in full slaver.

Buzz Carpenter speaks about the Blackbird, flying it, and about 3 of em' over Hanoi.

If someone can post this as a clicker, it would sure be appreciated.

Link: http://www.chonday.com/Videos/sr71jetplane1

Semper Kerosene !

GTC

Link works fine, Cross.

Thanks for posting. Very enjoyable.

That is cool. I like the idea of ceremony overflights as not-so-subtle reminders...

Thanks, Cross.

That was enlighting. Does anybody know if there ever were plans to arm it. I don't what they could have put in or on it though.

the sonic boom stories made me smile

That was a great commercial. Thanks for posting, cross.

This!
Thanks-Cross.

And to think.....it was designed by draftsmen and engineers using slide rules.

Computers were not common back in 40's and 50's and using them was extremely expensive.

And how they got to where they were going...

I miss the days when we had a government that wasn't run by traitors. We could do almost anything.

I lived close to the skunk works for 10 years and the best part of living there was seeing the blackbird fly. Kelly Johnson should have been cloned. awesome, beautiful beyond my words that bird.

Yes, but it would outrun it's own missles.

So how much better could we build it today?

Thanks for the video link.

I have a friend who flew that plane (SR-71). He has told me stories when he had to out run a SAM, other rockets and planes.
I have other friends who fly the U-2, each one of them will tell ya, they wish they could have flown the SR-71.

Neat clip there. Thanks!

Shows what a dash of vision seasoned with inspiration....can do.

Amazing bird that was flying 50+ years ago!

That plane is SO cool.. For a brief time there was one at the Flying Cloud area museum in MN and I was able to take my son there to see it.. What I remember most is that the plane was much larger than I had thought it would be..

I bet that tanker had the throttles to the wall; yet that SR looks like it's on the verge of a stall...

And yes - Kelly Johnson was an absolute genius..

...on the edge of space, men and machine becoming one...

********


A pilots story about the SR-71 the Black Bird

http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-vetscor/1981814/posts

Posted on 3/7/2008, 6:27:01 AM by MNJohnnie

A pilots story about the SR-71 the Black Bird

In April 1986, following an attack on American soldiers in a Berlin disco, President Reagan ordered the bombing of Muammar Qaddafi's terrorist camps in Libya. My duty was to fly over Libya and take photos recording the damage our F-111's had inflicted. Qaddafi had established a "line of death," a territorial marking across the Gulf of Sidra , swearing to shoot down any intruder that crossed the boundary. On the morning of April 15, I rocketed past the line at 2,125 mph.

I was piloting the SR-71 spy plane, the world's fastest jet, accompanied by Maj Walter Watson, the aircraft's reconnaissance systems officer (RSO). We had crossed into Libya and were approaching our final turn over the bleak desert landscape when Walter informed me that he was receiving missile launch signals. I quickly increased our speed, calculating the time it would take for the weapon--most likely SA-2 and SA-4 surface-to-air missiles capable of Mach 5 - to reach our altitude. I estimated that we could beat the rocket-powered missiles to the turn and stayed our course, betting our lives on the plane's performance.

After several agonizingly long seconds, we made the turn and blasted toward the Mediterranean . "You might want to pull it back," Walter suggested. It was then that I noticed I still had the throttles full forward. The plane was flying a mile every 1.6 seconds, well above our Mach 3.2 limit. It was the fastest we would ever fly. I pulled the throttles to idle just south of Sicily , but we still overran the refueling tanker awaiting us over Gibraltar

Scores of significant aircraft have been produced in the 100 years of flight, following the achievements of the Wright brothers, which we celebrate in December. Aircraft such as the Boeing 707, the F-86 Sabre Jet, and the P-51 Mustang are among the important machines that have flown our skies. But the SR-71, also known as the Blackbird, stands alone as a significant contributor to Cold War victory and as the fastest plane ever-and only 93 Air Force pilots ever steered the "sled," as we called our aircraft.

I had applied to fly the world's fastest jet and was receiving my first walk-around of our nation's most prestigious aircraft. In my previous 13 years as an Air Force fighter pilot, I had never seen an aircraft with such presence. At 107 feet long, it appeared big, but far from ungainly.

Ironically, the plane was dripping, much like the misshapen model had assembled in my youth. Fuel was seeping through the joints, raining down on the hangar floor. At Mach 3, the plane would expand several inches because of the severe temperature, which could heat the leading edge of the wing to 1,100 degrees. To prevent cracking, expansion joints had been built into the plane. Sealant resembling rubber glue covered the seams, but when the plane was subsonic, fuel would leak through the joints.

The SR-71 was the brainchild of Kelly Johnson, the famed Lockheed designer who created the P-38, the F-104 Starfighter, and the U-2. After the Soviets shot down Gary Powers' U-2 in 1960, Johnson began to develop an aircraft that would fly three miles higher and five times faster than the spy plane-and still be capable of photographing your license plate. However, flying at 2,000 mph would create intense heat on the aircraft's skin. Lockheed engineers used a titanium alloy to construct more than 90 percent of the SR-71, creating special tools and manufacturing procedures to hand-build each of the 40 planes. Special heat-resistant fuel, oil, and hydraulic fluids that would function at 85,000 feet and higher also had to be developed.

In 1962, the first Blackbird successfully flew, and in 1966, the same year I graduated from high school, the Air Force began flying operational SR-71 missions. I came to the program in 1983 with a sterling record and a recommendation from my commander, completing the weeklong interview and meeting Walter, my partner for the next four years. He would ride four feet behind me, working all the cameras, radios, and electronic jamming equipment. I joked that if we were ever captured, he was the spy and I was just the driver. He told me to keep the pointy end forward.

We trained for a year, flying out of Beale AFB in California , Kadena Airbase in Okinawa , and RAF Mildenhall in England . On a typical training mission, we would take off near Sacramento, refuel over Nevada, accelerate into Montana, obtain high Mach over Colorado, turn right over New Mexico, speed across the Los Angeles Basin, run up the West Coast, turn right at Seattle, then return to Beale. Total flight time: two hours and 40 minutes.

One day, high above Arizona , we were monitoring the radio traffic of all the mortal airplanes below us. First, a Cessna pilot asked the air traffic controllers to check his ground speed. "Ninety knots," ATC replied. A twin Bonanza soon made the same request. "One-twenty on the ground," was the reply. To our surprise, a navy F-18 came over the radio with a ground speed check. I knew exactly what he was doing. Of course, he had a ground speed indicator in his cockpit, but he wanted to let all the bug-smashers in the valley know what real speed was "Dusty 52, we show you at 620 on the ground," ATC responded. The situation was too ripe. I heard the click of Walter's mike button in the rear seat. In his most innocent voice, Walter startled the controller by asking for a ground speed check from 81,000 feet, clearly above controlled airspace. In a cool, professional voice, the controller replied, "Aspen 20, I show you at 1,982 knots on the ground." We did not hear another transmission on that frequency all the way to the coast.

One moonless night, while flying a routine training mission over the Pacific, I wondered what the sky would look like from 84,000 feet if the cockpit lighting were dark. While heading home on a straight course, I slowly turned down all of the lighting, reducing the glare and revealing the night sky. Within seconds, I turned the lights back up, fearful that the jet would know and somehow punish me. But my desire to see the sky overruled my caution, I dimmed the lighting again. To my amazement, I saw a bright light outside my window. As my eyes adjusted to the view, I realized that the brilliance was the broad expanse of the Milky Way, now a gleaming stripe across the sky. Where dark spaces in the sky had usually existed, there were now dense clusters of sparkling stars. Shooting stars flashed across the canvas every few seconds. It was like a fireworks display with no sound. I knew I had to get my eyes back on the instruments, and reluctantly I brought my attention back inside. To my surprise, with the cockpit lighting still off, I could see every gauge, lit by starlight. In the plane's mirrors, I could see the eerie shine of my gold spacesuit incandescently illuminated in a celestial glow. I stole one last glance out the window. Despite our speed, we seemed still before the heavens, humbled in the radiance of a much greater power. For those few moments, I felt a part of something far more significant than anything we were doing in the plane. The sharp sound of Walt's voice on the radio brought me back to the tasks at hand as I prepared for our descent.

The SR-71 was an expensive aircraft to operate. The most significant cost was tanker support, and in 1990, confronted with budget cutbacks, the Air Force retired the SR-71. The Blackbird had outrun nearly 4,000 missiles, not once taking a scratch from enemy fire. On her final flight, the Blackbird, destined for the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum , sped from Los Angeles to Washington in 64 minutes, averaging 2,145 mph and setting four speed records.

The SR-71 served six presidents, protecting America for a quarter of a century. Unbeknownst to most of the country, the plane flew over North Vietnam , Red China, North Korea , the Middle East, South Africa , Cuba , Nicaragua , Iran , Libya , and the Falkland Islands. On a weekly basis, the SR-71 kept watch over every Soviet nuclear submarine and mobile missile site, and all of their troop movements. It was a key factor in winning the Cold War.

I am proud to say I flew about 500 hours in this aircraft. I knew her well. She gave way to no plane, proudly dragging her sonic boom through enemy backyards with great impunity. She defeated every missile, outran every MiG, and always brought us home. In the first 100 years of manned flight, no aircraft was more remarkable.

With the Libyan coast fast approaching now, Walt asks me for the third time, if I think the jet will get to the speed and altitude we want in time. I tell him yes. I know he is concerned. He is dealing with the data; that's what engineers do, and I am glad he is. But I have my hands on the stick and throttles and can feel the heart of a thoroughbred, running now with the power and perfection she was designed to possess. I also talk to her. Like the combat veteran she is, the jet senses the target area and seems to prepare herself.

For the first time in two days, the inlet door closes flush and all vibration is gone. We've become so used to the constant buzzing that the jet sounds quiet now in comparison. The Mach correspondingly increases slightly and the jet is flying in that confidently smooth and steady style we have so often seen at these speeds. We reach our target altitude and speed, with five miles to spare. Entering the target area, in response to the jet's new-found vitality, Walt says, "That's amazing" and with my left hand pushing two throttles farther forward, I think to myself that there is much they don't teach in engineering school.

Out my left window, Libya looks like one huge sandbox. A featureless brown terrain stretches all the way to the horizon. There is no sign of any activity. Then Walt tells me that he is getting lots of electronic signals, and they are not the friendly kind. The jet is performing perfectly now, flying better than she has in weeks. She seems to know where she is. She likes the high Mach, as we penetrate deeper into Libyan airspace. Leaving the footprint of our sonic boom across Benghazi , I sit motionless, with stilled hands on throttles and the pitch control, my eyes glued to the gauges.

Only the Mach indicator is moving, steadily increasing in hundredths, in a rhythmic consistency similar to the long distance runner who has caught his second wind and picked up the pace. The jet was made for this kind of performance and she wasn't about to let an errant inlet door make her miss the show. With the power of forty locomotives, we puncture the quiet African sky and continue farther south across a bleak landscape.

Walt continues to update me with numerous reactions he sees on the DEF panel. He is receiving missile tracking signals. With each mile we traverse, every two seconds, I become more uncomfortable driving deeper into this barren and hostile land. I am glad the DEF panel is not in the front seat. It would be a big distraction now, seeing the lights flashing. In contrast, my cockpit is "quiet" as the jet purrs and relishes her new-found strength, continuing to slowly accelerate.

The spikes are full aft now, tucked twenty-six inches deep into the nacelles. With all inlet doors tightly shut, at 3.24 Mach, the J-58s are more like ramjets now, gulping 100,000 cubic feet of air per second. We are a roaring express now, and as we roll through the enemy's backyard, I hope our speed continues to defeat the missile radars below. We are approaching a turn, and this is good. It will only make it more difficult for any launched missile to solve the solution for hitting our aircraft.

I push the speed up at Walt's request. The jet does not skip a beat, nothing fluctuates, and the cameras have a rock steady platform. Walt received missile launch signals. Before he can say anything else, my left hand instinctively moves the throttles yet farther forward. My eyes are glued to temperature gauges now, as I know the jet will willingly go to speeds that can harm her. The temps are relatively cool and from all the warm temps we've encountered thus far, this surprises me but then, it really doesn't surprise me. Mach 3.31 and Walt is quiet for the moment.

I move my gloved finder across the small silver wheel on the autopilot panel which controls the aircraft's pitch. With the deft feel known to Swiss watchmakers, surgeons, and "dinosaurs" (old- time pilots who not only fly an airplane but "feel it"), I rotate the pitch wheel somewhere between one-sixteenth and one-eighth inch location, a position which yields the 500-foot-per-minute climb I desire. The jet raises her nose one-sixth of a degree and knows, I'll push her higher as she goes faster. The Mach continues to rise, but during this segment of our route, I am in no mood to pull throttles back.

Walt's voice pierces the quiet of my cockpit with the news of more missile launch signals. The gravity of Walter's voice tells me that he believes the signals to be a more valid threat than the others. Within seconds he tells me to "push it up" and I firmly press both throttles against their stops. For the next few seconds, I will let the jet go as fast as she wants. A final turn is coming up and we both know that if we can hit that turn at this speed, we most likely will defeat any missiles. We are not there yet, though, and I'm wondering if Walt will call for a defensive turn off our course.

With no words spoken, I sense Walter is thinking in concert with me about maintaining our programmed course. To keep from worrying, I glance outside, wondering if I'll be able to visually pick up a missile aimed at us. Odd are the thoughts that wander through one's mind in times like these. I found myself recalling the words of former SR-71 pilots who were fired upon while flying missions over North Vietnam . They said the few errant missile detonations they were able to observe from the cockpit looked like implosions rather than explosions. This was due to the great speed at which the jet was hurling away from the exploding missile.

I see nothing outside except the endless expanse of a steel blue sky and the broad patch of tan earth far below. I have only had my eyes out of the cockpit for seconds, but it seems like many minutes since I have last checked the gauges inside. Returning my attention inward, I glance first at the miles counter telling me how many more to go, until we can start our turn. Then I note the Mach, and passing beyond 3.45 (2625mph), I realize that Walter and I have attained new personal records. The Mach continues to increase. The ride is incredibly smooth.

There seems to be a confirmed trust now, between me and the jet; she will not hesitate to deliver whatever speed we need, and I can count on no problems with the inlets. Walt and I are ultimately depending on the jet now - more so than normal - and she seems to know it. The cooler outside temperatures have awakened the spirit born into her years ago, when men dedicated to excellence took the time and care to build her well. With spikes and doors as tight as they can get, we are racing against the time it could take a missile to reach our altitude.

It is a race this jet will not let us lose. The Mach eases to 3.5 as we crest 80,000 feet. We are a bullet now - except faster. We hit the turn, and I feel some relief as our nose swings away from a country we have seen quite enough of. Screaming past Tripoli , our phenomenal speed continues to rise, and the screaming Sled pummels the enemy one more time, laying down a parting sonic boom. In seconds, we can see nothing but the expansive blue of the Mediterranean . I realize that I still have my left hand full-forward and we're continuing to rocket along in maximum afterburner.

The TDI now shows us Mach numbers, not only new to our experience but flat out scary. Walt says the DEF panel is now quiet, and I know it is time to reduce our incredible speed. I pull the throttles to the min 'burner range and the jet still doesn't want to slow down. Normally the Mach would be affected immediately, when making such a large throttle movement. But for just a few moments old 960 just sat out there at the high Mach, she seemed to love and like the proud Sled she was, only began to slow when we were well out of danger. I loved that jet.

Kelly Johnson designed the P-38. He also design the F-104 Starfighter when the Air Force said they needed a really hot interceptor. The F-104 was they only plane that could even come close to chasing the X-15. F-104's were modified to fly to 90,000 feet to test and practice X-15 fight controls for space.

That Kelly Johnson was some design genius.

You ought to go to you tube and listen to the RSO in his own words about the flight over Libya. The RSO said he was seeing Mach numbers that he had never seen before. He said the numbers just kept coming up. Listening to them talk about the mission in their own words is even more awesome than reading them.

"On September 1, 1974 Major James V. Sullivan, 37 (pilot) and Noel F. Widdifield, 33 (reconnaissance systems officer) (photo inset), flashed across the starting line (radar gates in New York) at approximately 80,000 feet and speed in excess of 2,000 miles per hour. Exactly 1 hour 54 minutes and 56.4 seconds later, they had set a new world speed record from New York to London England. The average speed was 1,807 statute mph over the 3,461 statute mile course, slowing to refuel one time from a specially modified KC-135 refueling tanker (KC-135Q)."

IIRC The Tanker airspeed for refueling habu was 350k IAS.

I Remember back in the early 80's when I was stationed at Mt Home ID. It was usually just before Noon, if you heard something flying over the base, it was worth looking up as there was a pretty good odds of seeing a SR-71 hanging off a tanker. We were a divert/emergency base for them if something went wrong. I only remember one landing 2 or 3 times while I was there.

Incredible.




Travis

Thank You, Patrick...

GTC

I was in Air Force ROTC and one of the things we got to do was take rides on various aircraft, the most common of which was the KC-135. I went up 3 times in the KC-135 and since we took off out of Mather AFB in Sacramento which was only about 80 miles from Beale AFB, it was more often than not a Mather KC-135 that would tank the SR-71 immediately after takeoff.

So on my 2nd flight, I got to lay in the boom section while the SR was being re-fueled and it was AWESOME!!!

Other aircraft that were re-fueled on other trips were:
A-37 Dragonfly
F-15 Eagle
B-52 BUFF

One day the missions of the SR-71's will become de-classified; and that will make for some fascinating reading.

I remember when the submarine spying program became de-classified and the book Blind Man's Bluff: The Untold Story of American Submarine Espionage came out. I devoured it in about 24 hours.

Didn't know they had Q's based at Mather. The majority of them were based out of Beale, those boys spent a lot of time away from the base TDY through out the world in support of habu. I've given the SAC side at Midenhall a hand a few times working on Q's though that didn't qualify me as a Beale Bandit (Beale Crewchiefs). Them boys had their own level of crazy...

Mather had a squadron of KC-135's, a squadron of B-52's and a squadron of T-37's. Mather was a SAC base and navigator training for all of NATO. It was a busy place back in the Cold War. I was saddened to see it close. Great memories there as a high school ROTC kid.

Early '69 were inbound to Kunsan Korea and were vectored out to sea for hold due to "A very very fast mover" as was described by Kunsan approach.That's all they said but later we found out it was the Black Bird.

here's another story by the same pilot:

*********


***********

Here's a better link to the story, and references:

http://gizmodo.com/5511236/the-thrill-of-flying-the-sr-71-blackbird

Standing in a chow line, Okinawa 1980
The plane made 3 low level passes overhead.
Kadena air base was just up the road.
Magnificent!

They have a nice one on display at Pima Air Museum sans engines.

They also have one on display outside the NASA Space & Rocket Center in Huntsville, AL

Blackbirds tanking gives rise to a memory from my ATC days. Daze? Probably...

Back in the Reagan era, stuff going sideways down in Central America and the islands, lots of U2s and Blackbirds whizzing by. The latter had a refueling corridor that cut across Florida (Tampa-Orlando-Cape Kennedy) whereupon they were theoretically refueled and thence turn south offshore and light the pipes. We had discreet freqs to talk to them and would not acknowledge their presence if other aircraft inquired about their "traffic". Corridor altitude was 29,000' which was central to a lot of civil transport aircraft.

Anyway, one day Aspen is just clearing the coast and said only "Aspen XX is diverting to Patrick." He referred to Patrick AFB, just south of the Cape. I called crossing traffic off his left wing and told him to maintain FL290. He replied that he was out of 18K turning final runway 20 at Patrick. Well, the B737 pilot was chittin' bricks on his frequency, wanting to know his traffic. I told him he had no traffic and punched the com button to Patrick Approach to make the handoff. That unit was apparently asleep until I said "Aspen XX, SR71, 8 mile final RWY 20 out of 18 grand." Poor guy like to have crapped.

Short version is that the Blackbird touched down before the tower got to talk to him. Boy were they pizzed. Elapsed time from his declaring fuel emergency at FL290 to touchdown was just slightly less that 2 minutes.

They don't do anything slow...

At O'Hare one day I'm on my plane and glance out my window as we start to taxi, and see a B1B on the taxiway, politely waiting its turn between two airliners. I'm guessing the passengers on those flights did a double take when they looked outside. And especially so when he lit four afterburners, to take off

I have a history book on the SR-71. This book was written with the blessings of the Air Force and some of the missions are declassified. Awesome reading.

It's not so much that the missions are still classified, it's that the film/data acquired is still classified. And the primary reason that remains classified, is not necessarily what was acquired, but the capabilities of the systems.

SR film was generally Secret Noforn, while overhead was TS SCI. You could down grade both to Confidential/Secret by removing the data block or cropping and magnifying targets of interest. In both cases, the key was to make it impossible to ascertain altitude/magnification etc.

The SR stuff that is generally out in the public, is the result of the above. It has been massaged for release for public dissemination. Will the CIA/ACC someday open their vaults to the public? Perhaps, but outside of the film/data acquired, the "missions" are mainly in the memories of ever aging men.

Help me with my math...

1 mile every 1.6 seconds is 37.5 miles in a minute. (60 sec / 1.6)

2250 miles an hour (37.5 * 60 min)

Mach 1 is 767 mph

2250/767 = 2.933507171

2.933507171 < 3.2

Is the difference due to altitude and fluid dynamics? I know that the speed of sound is fluid so.... ???

Missed this post the first time around. Sorry HugA but I'm not into math this a.m.

My first encounter with the SR-71 was at Kadena AB, 1978-81. They would normally launch at night or just before sunrise to maintain secrecy. Locals would line the perimeter fence all day long with their Nikon cameras with 3 foot lenses to try to get a snap of the 'Habu'. Needless to say they rarely got a glimpse of the SR-71. My best encounter was at dawn on one particularly foggy morning, standing on the 10th tee of the Kadena golf course which was just across the road from the run-up area. We were waiting for the fog to clear and we heard it long before we saw it. It came into view just across the road from us and locked the brakes. A small blue flame came from each of the two scamjet engines. As the pilot applied throttle that blue flame reached over a hundred feet behind the aircraft, from around 6 feet in diameter at the source to a needle point at the terminous. The entire length of blue flame was punctuated with yellow shock rings every 20 feet which would travel the length of the flame to the terminous. The roar and rumble was better than any rock concert was or ever would be. I sat there in awe, humbled by the sheer magnitude of the experience. With the run-up complete, he backed off the throttle, let off the brakes and headed to the active runway. Once on the runway we could only see the flame which went to length when the throttles were pushed forward. Half way down the runway they went vertical and quickly disappeared into the morning mist, but the rumble persisted for about a minute, then silence. That was 35 years ago and the memory is as vivid today as it was then.

My next and last encounter with the SR-71 was at Beale AFB, 1988-90. This experience was totally opposite of the first. We had to retire the SR-71 when I was there and my last act was to organize a squadron photo in front of the six assigned SR's before they were cut up and packaged for disposal or transferred to Lockheed.

Over 25 years in the Air Force and seeing every aircraft in the inventory then and now ... there's not another that comes close.

I just copied & pasted the article, didn't do the math, preferring to trust the guy who flew the plane

IIRC the speed of sound in a gas (air) goes down with density, so at high altitudes the speed of sound is less. For a given ground speed, the Mach number goes up with altitude.

At RAF Mildenhall Habu was launched in broad daylight. Everyone in the local area knew of the launches, a public road that parallels the runway turned into a parking lot about the time the Blackbird taxied into position for takeoff.

I drive past RAF Lakenheath and Mildenhall several times a year, as I belong to a hunting club that leases ground near Brandon.

Many times I am passing late evening or early hours of the morning and a couple of times the road around the base has been closed to traffic, while "something" has taken off or landed...

I know bud

I'm sorry if that came across as being aggressive towards your post. It wasn't meant to be.

I'm grateful that you shared that with us. I'm in awe of that bird and the men who were able to fly it.

When I was a kid, there was a little known Disney movie called D.A.R.Y.L. in which a kid had a microchip put in his brain. He ended up stealing a Blackbird in the movie. That was mindblowing for me.

Loved that stupid movie...

When he said 1.6 miles per second, I was floored! I wanted to know just how fast that was! So, I started down the math trail and was confused with the results so I figured I'd ask for people to help correct my understanding.

I'm thinking what you're thinking. It must be due to altitude and air density.

Might well be "Combat Sent" (RC-135U) aircraft Pete. Back in the day we had a C-141 inbound from CONUS which would land just after dark. The 141 would get offloaded and then depart Mildenhall around 2:30am. We'd send up an RC on a covert launch at the same time that would be directly in the exhaust of the 141, you'd think only one aircraft took off.

Wife and I lived in Brandon for a year, moved to Anglo housing which was in the village of Lakenheath. Nice places!

Pete, this might be the reason.




Raw footage, not Mildenhall but same...

Could very well have been..we were stopped far enough away not to be able to see anything in any detail..

On a slightly different note, I was out stalking not too far from Brandon and I came across two batches of small "grave makers". These were only quite small, and laid out in rows and IIRC were of mostly US and Canadian service personnel from North Eastern and North Western States, and the parts of Canada from WW2..

The area where the makers are is over grown and some of the markers are missing or broken, and is obviously not an official grave site of any sort.

I've asked around the local area and hardly anybody knew they were there, let alone their origin..

I would love to know the history behind the markers, but so far have not had any luck..

Below are a few pics I took from one group at the time..







Regards,

Peter

WOW !

.....Pete, that just DEFINES the term "intriguing".

A story as yet untold, begging to be written / spoken.

GTC

Yes, it certainly is..Next time in the area I might try to get a few more pics..At a guess, (from a not very good memory) I would say there was about 40 or 50 markers in two groups. IIRC, the other group had the small plastic info markers on small stakes akin to large wooden tent pegs..

One guess was that these markers were placed by a group of relatives while on a trip of remembrance of some sort?

Regards,

Peter

Was surfing the web reading up the SR 71 and came across this interview type of thing with a former pilot. I found it pretty interesting. The pilot's responses are the username highlighted in blue.

http://www.reddit.com/r/IAmA/comments/2k06jn/iama_former_sr71_pilot_and_squadron_commander_ama/

Yup!

Sucks to see the condition the site has become. Aircrew members who perished in crash landings?

It is very sad to see them like that, but having been to various War Cemeteries/Memorials around the UK, I don�t think this is site is in anyway �official� which is why it is not being maintained.

Not too far away there is a known crash site for a Lancaster with a mixed commonwealth crew, and this has a small low key memorial and information plaque next to it, and flowers and/or poppies appear periodically during the year..

In the pics I posted, I think �Ladysmith� actually refers to the town in Vancour Island rather than a person, but the other markers mostly have the names of people with ranks ect..

There seem to be too many markers to refer to any one crash, which is why we think it might be an unofficial �group memorial� set up by visiting relatives.

I am down in the area again this week end and will try to get some better pics and perhaps some additional details from some of the other markers..

It's a small, small world. Rich Graham was the Wing Commander of the 9th SRW at Beale AFB during my tenure there ... a true leader and gentleman. Unfortunately he lost his job when the second U-2 was blown off the runway in a period of two months due to severe crosswinds. He was the sacrificial lamb as Strategic Air Command (SAC) had to blame someone for these. Crosswinds would come and go there and both of these were "out of the blue". The U-2 is extremely unstable during landing and taxi and are restricted from landing attempts if crosswinds exceed 30 kts.

Saw that happen once at Moldyhole. Ran off the side of the runway trying to keep the wings level after touchdown. Didn't seem like people made a big deal about it.

Timing is everything. At the time Col Graham was heading the 9th SRW, there was a monumental A-hole occupying the four-star billet at HQ SAC ... Gen John T. Chain. The Bombers, Tankers and Missile Men were prioritized above the Reconnaissance folks.

The speed of sound is in a gas = sqrt(Gamma*R*T), where Gamma is the ratio of the specific heats (approximately constant at 1.4 for air), R is the gas constant, and T is the absolute temperature (degrees K or R depending up system of measure). So yes, the speed of sound varies with altitude because temperature varies with altitude. An atmospheric standard day table will give you value for any given altitude.