Let’s Get Serious about Dive Toss

[+Crusader]

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Like a golfer looking for the right putter or a Casanova

searching for the appropriate words, fighter pilots are

always looking for that magic technique that will

transform them into the Top Gun.1

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Fighter pilots and WSOs were always looking for a better way to deliver

unguided bombs and cluster bomb units (CBUs).* By the early 1970s there had

been several schemes installed in fighter and attack aircraft that used computerized

delivery systems. The venerable F–105 employed a “baro-toss” mode that

was more accurate than the old manual system described in earlier chapters. The

A–7 used a computer system that was very accurate, but the Air Force bought so

few A–7s that its impact was small. By 1974 the fighter force was a force of

Phantoms. Every overseas base in Europe and the Pacific was equipped with

them, as were most of the stateside bases. The USAF’s first Phantoms, the F–4C,

or Chucks as they were called by some, had no computer delivery systems, but

the F–4Ds and F–4Es that followed were equipped with a weapons release

computer system (WRCS) that provided the crew with several computer

weapons delivery options. The most useful of these was the dive toss mode.

Dive toss was designed to be used in a diving delivery similar to the normal

dive bomb pass. The pilot rolled in the same way, but pointed his gunsight

directly at the target. Then the WSO locked on to the ground with the radar. Once

the radar was tracking the ground, the WRCS computer knew slant range to the

target. Aircraft altitude and dive angle went to the computer from the aircraft navigation

systems. The WSO told the computer what kind of weapon was to be

released by dialing a drag coefficient into the black box. Once the radar was

solidly tracking the ground, the pilot hit his pickle button and held it down while

he recovered from the dive. When the computer arrived at a proper solution, it

automatically released the bomb. When everything worked perfectly, dive toss

could drop a bomb better than the average pilot could during a manual pass.

Of course, the problem was that it often did not work perfectly or even close

to perfectly. WSOs quickly discovered that each airplane/WRCS had its own

personality. WSOs in weapons offices around the world tracked every aircraft

 

* A canister that opened after release and dispensed smaller bomblets over the target.

 

and its quirks. Often, small errors that were consistent could be corrected by

fudging the drag coefficient or other computer settings to make the WRCS think

a different type of weapon was aboard. In the worst cases, the bomb would

release as soon as the pilot hit the pickle button, or very late during the pull-off

from the pass. Such monumentally short or long bombs were a continual source

of embarrassment to the F–4 crews and sometimes a danger to troops on the

ground. Many crews learned the hard way to distrust their dive toss system.

Dive toss faced another obstacle, but it was not a hurdle of wires and chips;

it was a cultural hurdle. Dive bombing in the direct mode, where the bomb

dropped when the pilot commanded it, was the manly man’s way to attack a target.

Fighter pilots learned to depend foremost on themselves early in their flying

careers. Instructors insisted that fledglings become self-reliant immediately. The

fighter pilot culture through Vietnam demanded hard-core individualism. In

many squadrons, although the official policy might be to use dive toss as much

as possible, using the system sometimes brought scorn and derisive hoots of

laughter from old heads.

Not all units ridiculed dive toss, though, and the new generation of pilots was

predisposed to seek technical solutions to technical problems. The F–4Es stationed

at Korat, Thailand, during the late 1960s and early 1970s used dive toss

almost exclusively in combat over Laos and Vietnam and achieved excellent

results. However, many units did not trust the system and did not use it. Of

course, a system that is not exercised atrophies quickly. Therefore, dive toss in

most F–4 units was suspect, and the more suspect it became the less it was used,

and the downward spiral continued. Despite the fact that the F–4 had dive toss as

part of its standard equipment, starting with the production of the F–4D in 1966,

fighter pilots were still figuring out ways to be better manual, or direct, dive

bombers well into the 1970s. More than one article on how to be a better manual

bomber graced the pages of the Fighter Weapons Review. Capt. Alex Harwick, an

instructor in the USAFE Tactical Employment School at Zaragoza Air Base,

Spain, produced a series of detailed articles on the mathematics and techniques

of dropping manual bombs. Harwick’s articles became the bible for every fighter

pilot on how to win quarters on the gunnery range. Even though dive toss had the

potential to drop more accurate bombs in the heat of battle, Harwick’s and other

articles did not acknowledge the computer system’s abilities. They made no effort

to give any credit to computerized deliveries.

Not everyone in fighters was consumed with the science and art of dropping

manual dive bombs. Since the advent of navigator WSOs filling the back seats of

F–4s, many WSOs started putting the systems to work that the disgruntled pilot

GIBs had ignored. Many articles started appearing that advocated scientific

application of the WRCS and the powerful F–4 radar. The first of these with great

impact was “Let’s Get Serious About Dive Toss,” written in 1970 by Capt. Bob

Baxter. Baxter’s point was that if the crews would only use dive toss to its

maximum capabilities, the computer would give them more combat capability.

 

The culture was slow to change, however. Five years later articles still appeared discussing

the finer points of winning quarters on the range without the computer.

When Capt. John Jumper was a student pilot in the fighter weapons instructor

course in the fall of 1974, he recalls being ridiculed by some instructors for

devising a way to use dive toss from long ranges on a tactics mission. Jumper’s

idea was to use dive toss to literally toss a bomb a few miles so that the fighters

would not have to fly over the target. If he could do that, he could stay away from

the simulated enemy defenses that surrounded the target. In fighter parlance, it

was an effort to “stand off.” He consulted with the civilian company that built the

WRCS and determined that the system was capable of delivering bombs from

much longer slant ranges than most pilots realized. Jumper, an electrical engineering

graduate of Virginia Military Institute, planned to fly at low altitude to

the target, pop up to a few thousand feet, and then point at the target from five

miles away. Once the WSO locked onto the ground return, Jumper would hold

down the pickle button, pull his nose up through an extended line toward the target,

and literally toss the bombs at the target from three or four miles away, letting

the WRCS computer decide the proper release moment.

Jumper’s idea brought immediate scoffs from the hard-core instructors

who pointed out that the accuracy of the computer from such long ranges

would not get a bomb within a few hundred feet of the target. Jumper was not

thinking of just one bomb, though. His plan would use a new delivery mode in

the 556-modified jets to salvo twelve bombs in four groups of three. Jumper

was fully aware of the problems inherent in the dive toss system, but rather

than turn away from it, he studied the problem in depth and looked for a technical

solution, instinctively shunning the offhand dismissal of computer

deliveries he saw within the F–4 force.

He got to taste his pudding on a tactics mission that was planned by students

who then flew as leaders on the mission. Jumper took his flight of four F–4s into

the tactics range low and fast behind a broad, conical mountain that stood between

them and the airfield parking apron that was their target. At six-and-a-half miles

from the target they popped up to 3,000 feet one by one and pointed at the airfield

target that had been bladed into the desert floor to look like a Warsaw Pact runway.

The WSOs locked onto the ground, and the pilots tossed four bombs each at

the target from nearly five miles away. Immediately after the small practice bombs

released from the jets, the pilots sliced hard away from the target and back down

to low altitude heading away from the target. The attack was so quick that none of

the crews even saw their bombs hit the ground as they screamed away.2

The results were spectacular. Three of the four strings of bombs walked

through the target; one string was well short. Although none of the individual

crews would have won a quarter for accuracy for a single bomb, the aggregate

effect of the salvo release directed by the dive toss computer shacked the target.

Ultimately the attack became known as long-range dive toss. Although it never

saw combat use, the change in the fighter pilot culture it signaled was important.

Throughout the F–4 fleet, pilots, and WSOs took notice. There was always a better

way to get the job done, and an in-depth knowledge of available technology was

the path to success.

 

The Other Side of the Coin

There was another meaning to the phrase “let’s get serious about dive toss”

that had nothing to do with dive toss. It also meant to look at something realistically

and honestly. Fighter pilots live in a personal world of pragmatism. They

must in order to survive. If the left fire warning light is flashing, and the left side

of the airplane is engulfed in flames, it’s a pretty good bet that the airplane is on

fire, and the fighter pilot accepts that for what it is—nothing less and nothing

more. He sees no sense in worrying about things he cannot control, so he presses

on to the next step, which in this case is a bailout. Although such an attitude is

perfect for flying fast jets into dangerous places, it is not an attitude or outlook

that serves well in the political arena where nothing is black or white.

At the end of the Vietnam War, a considerable strain of skepticism ran through

the fighter force that was aimed at national and Air Force leadership. Most pilots,

like Rick Honey, saw a job to be done and simply did their best to do it. Yet, these

well-educated officers, smart and capable, privately asked themselves how their

leaders could have screwed up the Vietnam effort so horribly. Unfortunately,

some of them concluded that their leadership did not care about them. In the

peacetime years after Vietnam, as budgets fell, pilots’ flying hours declined, and

their benefits eroded, pilots watched in dismay as the Air Force assumed what

was, in their view, an attitude of “make everything look better than it really is.”

Often, when one of these young men heard of some cheery face painted on a

disaster, he might say, “Ah, come on. Let’s get serious about dive toss!”

Less than five years after the war ended, an exodus of pilots, displeased with

the Air Force, voted with their feet and went to commercial airline jobs. The most

eloquent expression of their feelings was written by Ron Keys, then a captain at

Nellis, in a paper that has since become famous as the “Dear Boss” letter. As

Keys tells the story, he was given the task of writing down concerns young officers

had about the Air Force. These concerns would then be gathered into a package

to be sent to the TAC commander, Gen. Bill Creech. Keys, who was about to

leave on a trip to Alaska, was already swamped with work, but he took the time

at home late that night to write down his thoughts. He decided to do it in a letter

that would speak for his buddies who had left the service.

Keys had absolutely no intention of “putting in his papers.” He saw lots wrong

with the Air Force, but like others in the hard core, he planned to work for change

and not give up. The next morning, before he departed for Alaska, he left the draft

letter with the squadron secretary to type up for the commander. However, the

letter was never compiled with other inputs, and the scathing indictment, of even

General Creech himself, made it directly to the general’s desk. By the time Keys

returned from his trip, copies of the Dear Boss letter were everywhere, and

Creech wanted to see him immediately.

Keys hardly had time to change his clothes before he was on another airplane,

heading for Langley Air Force Base in Virginia and an appointment with the

four-star general. During his meeting with the TAC commander, he found that

the general was very interested in the details of Keys’ observations.

Furthermore, Creech was interested in ways to fix the problems. He thanked

Keys for his honest feedback and sent him on his way.3 (The Dear Boss letter is

in Appendix 2.) The letter eloquently expressed many of the frustrations the

fighter force felt at the time, and some of the reasons pilots were leaving by the

droves for commercial airline flying, frustrated that their leaders never seemed

to “get serious about dive toss.”

 

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1. Dewan Madden, “Dive Deliveries and the Iron Sight,” USAF Fighter Weapons

Review, Spring 1972, p. 10.

2. Gen. John P. Jumper, interview with author, Ramstein AB, Germany, February 27, 1999.

3. Maj. Gen. Ronald E. Keys, interview with author, Stuttgart, Germany, February 23,

1999.

 

 

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Excercept from:

 

SIERRA HOTEL

FLYING AIR FORCE FIGHTERS IN

THE DECADE AFTER VIETNAM

C. R.ANDEREGG

Air Force History and Museums Program

United StatesAir Force

Washington, D.C. 2001

 

Cleared for public release; distribution unlimited.

 

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[+FastCargo]

The 'Dear Boss' letter has popped up from time to time...and every time you read it, it seems like it was just written....not that it's 30 years old.

 

Interesting article though.

 

FC

[crl848]

Good book that.

[GwynO]

Very interesting! I was aware that many F-4 pilots disliked the automated release modes, apparently it was that misgiving that led to the ARN 101 and CCIP display on the HUD. Different crews, aircraft and systems led to varying degrees of success. I take it that the reference in that extract to the F-105 baro toss being more accurate than the manual mode is a comparison with using a direct approach. One can only imagine how much improved the systems had become by the time they were used in Tornado. The F-111 didn't do too badly out of their fire control though, pretty accurate by all accounts.

 

The great thing about mc Donalds is that if I want a fish burger and the next guy doesn't, or some guy behind me wants a cheeseburger while the rest of the crowd want plain, and even if one guy wants a veggie burger, they have them all. I don't know why the other thread was closed at the juncture it was at. I wanted to add that either way, that it is not about what one person or one crowd think is proper, it is about having the choice in the first place. Some like to play with all settings on high graphics, some on low, likewise if TK did put in the ability to use fire control, some would use it and some wouldn't just as in real life, although for some platforms such as the F-111 or Tornado I believe the chances of not using it would have been highly unlikely to say the least!

 

Great source of information there Crusader, that really shows both sides of the story as regards the F-4's fire control and shows that both sides had very valid arguments.

Edited February 12, 2009 by Kopis n Xiphos

[+SkippyBing]

The equivalent system in the Buccaneer was going through testing, anyway they wanted to avoid damaging the expensive targets which were designed to imitate the radar signature of a Smerlov cruiser as that was the original primary target, although you could target offset radar nav points etc. So a 400 yard error was programmed into the test aircrafts' nav attack systems. Interestingly this led to a number of direct hits, so after a bit of head scratching the boffins from Ferranti just plugged the 400 yard fudge into all the aircraft!

Another point of interest, well to me at least, the Sea Vixen and Lightning weapons systems had a similar set up, where by the pilot would press the 'fire' button but it actually worked as a commit button in that it gave the system permission to fire allowing the computer to release the weapon when it reached the optimum launch point. Of course the difference was it was for the A/A weapons system which for the Vixen at least meant you could only launch Red Top/Firestreak if the computer wanted to, which may explain why a couple of rocket pods were the weapon of choice against a MiG-21 according to the Tactics Manual!

[GwynO]

The equivalent system in the Buccaneer was going through testing, anyway they wanted to avoid damaging the expensive targets which were designed to imitate the radar signature of a Smerlov cruiser as that was the original primary target, although you could target offset radar nav points etc. So a 400 yard error was programmed into the test aircrafts' nav attack systems. Interestingly this led to a number of direct hits, so after a bit of head scratching the boffins from Ferranti just plugged the 400 yard fudge into all the aircraft!

Another point of interest, well to me at least, the Sea Vixen and Lightning weapons systems had a similar set up, where by the pilot would press the 'fire' button but it actually worked as a commit button in that it gave the system permission to fire allowing the computer to release the weapon when it reached the optimum launch point. Of course the difference was it was for the A/A weapons system which for the Vixen at least meant you could only launch Red Top/Firestreak if the computer wanted to, which may explain why a couple of rocket pods were the weapon of choice against a MiG-21 according to the Tactics Manual!

 

I remember my Dad telling me all about the boffins at Ferranti when I was little, one of their factories was in Bangor back then, possibly still is. AA fire control is great too, I saw one film that kind of implied that the F-16 has such features to fire the cannon at just the right moment for both AA and AG so long as the target is locked up on radar. I can't see it being to difficult to have it irl, probably handy in those close in scissors when the target passes over your sight for fractions of a second.

[+76.IAP-Blackbird]

Nice read here thanks for those infos