Bird Strike

"Holy Shit! What was that, Major? Major—Major, are you okay? Come on man, you're the one with all the experience flying this thing. Wake up!"

Young 2nd Lieutenant Mario Romani stared at the seemingly lifeless body of his instructor pilot to his right. They had taken off from Laredo Air Force Base in the early afternoon. Mario needed this check ride to be perfect if he was to continue in the pilot training program. There was no doubt in his mind that he would be an excellent pilot if given the chance. Unfortunately, it was the bookwork that was putting his career as an aviator at risk.

Wind swirled around the cockpit at 160 mph, tossing anything that wasn't fastened down out of the plane. Even with his helmet securely fastened in place and his visor pulled down over his eyes, the roaring wind made it nearly impossible for Mario to hear the radio or see the instruments clearly. Maintaining control of the aircraft required his full attention.

"It shouldn't be this difficult to keep this plane flying straight and level," said Mario to his unconscious instructor. That's when he spotted the problem. The aircraft is equipped with dual controls and the Major's lifeless body was partially slumped against his control stick with one foot resting on a rudder control pedal. Mario, with his left hand on his own control stick, grabbed the Major's leg with his right hand and pulled it off the pedal. Moving the leg allowed the torso to slip off the stick as well.

Several minutes passed. Minutes that felt like an eternity before Mario regained positive control of his plane. Now he had time to assess the situation. Priority one was Major Brown. The man was coated in blood, pieces of windscreen, and, of all things, feathers. It was impossible to check his pulse and keep the plane straight and level. When Mario reached over to shake the Major back into consciousness, he grasped the full extent of his instructor's injuries.

What was left of the Major's head flopped around like it was attached to a slinky. He had taken the impact of a twelve-pound vulture directly on the forehead. His helmet was cracked from the effect of both the bird strike and shards of the windscreen striking it. The sight made Mario nauseous, but by sheer willpower, he forced his gut back under control.

It was now decision time. His options were, to eject and let the plane and the unresponsive Major crash into the prairie below, or attempt to return to base and land an aircraft that he had never landed solo. It wasn't a hard decision. Time to return to base.

"Laredo tower, this is Gin 57 transmitting on guard. Declaring an emergency!"

"Gin 57, this is Laredo tower. State the nature of your emergency, souls on board, approximate location, and fuel."

"Tower, we had a bird strike. It crashed through the windscreen and injured the instructor pilot. I'm twenty miles from base at 10,000 feet and have a full tank of fuel. Request instructions."

"Gin 57 change frequency to 397.5 and stand by for further instructions. We are contacting flight operations and will let you know what they advise."

"Roger, changing to 397.5. Standing by."

"Stand by. What else do they think I'm going to do? I wonder if ops knows I haven't landed this aircraft solo before? I hope they come up with something soon. This constant wind noise is brutal."

"Gin 57 tower."

"Go ahead, tower."

"Gin 57 squawk ident, so radar can get a fix on your position. Once we have a fix, ops will send an instructor to escort you back to base."

"Copy tower. Transmitting now."

"Location verified. Your wingman is on the way."

Twenty minutes passed. The instructor, call sign Gin 99, rendezvoused with the distressed student.

"Gin 57, this is Gin 99. How are you doing, lieutenant?"

"I'll be better when we're on the ground, sir. I don't think the major is going to make it."

"Let's deal with your problem first. I want you to stay off my right wing all the way to the base. Once there, we'll line up for a straight-in approach to runway 17 center. I'll stay with you until you're about to touch down, then I'll do a missed approach and you set it down nice and gentle. Copy?"

A short time later, the tower radio squawked to life.

"Laredo tower, this is Gin 99, a flight of two on approach to runway 17 center. Request landing instructions."

"Gin 99, wind calm, altimeter 2-9-9-5, cleared to land runway 17 center. EMS and the crash crew are on standby. Safe landing."

The inexperienced pilot executed a perfect landing. He completed flight school and graduated from the program he originally expected to fail. Unfortunately, after completing over 150 combat missions in Vietnam, a bird ended his life.

Author's note.

The names and dialogue in this story are works of fiction. The event is actual. I was working in the control tower the day this happened and received the distress call.