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 photographs recording the damage our F-111's Qaddafi had established a 'line of death,' a territorial marking across the Gulf of Sidra , swearing to shoot down any intruder, that crossed 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 a Marine Major (Walt),
the aircraft's reconnaissance systems officer (RSO). We had crossed into Libya , and were approaching
our final turn over the bleak desert landscape, when
Walt informed me, that he was receiving missile
launch signals. I quickly increased our speed, calculating the time it would take for the weapons, most likely SA-2 and SA-4 surface-to-air missiles, capable of Mach 5 - to reach 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,' Walt 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.
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 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 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
Walt, 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 a high Mach speed 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 Forty 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 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 Walt's mike button in the rear seat. In his most innocent voice, Walt 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.
 < /SPAN>The Blackbird always showed us something new,
each aircraft possessing its own unique personality. In time, we realized we were flying a national treasure. When we taxied out of our revetments for take-off, Traffic congregated near the airfield fences, because everyone wanted to see, and hear the mighty SR-71. You could not be a part of this program, and not come Slowly, she revealed her secrets to us, as we earned her trust..
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. |
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