Crusader

ma kuckn.... APG-65 hab ich schon gemacht... für den AV-8B+ ... hat bobrock aber noch net released... ICE HUD... hmmm ... ham die mehr grünes Zeugs ?... auf Fotos sieht man immer das alte Radar und ASG Gunsight Combiner Glas ...

well.... after reading all 5 pages... its more for the average guy which doesnt know much about planes and amraams.. lol

AIR COMBAT TACTICS EVALUATION F-100, F-104, F-105, F-4C VS MIG-15/17 TYPE A/C(F-86H) - 10 mb Complete Feather Duster Report

came across this pic and remembered the thread... http://www.defenseimagery.mil/imagery.html...aebc815db9805c4

Interesting article. They say its captured by the Mirage's HUD camera, which was retrieved by a Special Forces Team Probably a close-up of a small area from the whole frame....

EEL-50 !!1

scratch the ALE-50, use the TT - Towed Toilet ... best decoy ever!!!1

AI cant target them, thats a game feature. Destroying all the parked aircraft would lead to minimal enemy air opposition after only a handfull missions. And thats no fun!!1

------------------------------------------------------------------ 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 ------------------------------------------------------------------ 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.” --------------------------------------- 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. ********************************************************************************** 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. ***********************************************************************************

mmm... fried squirrels.....

I made a Smerch-1A radar for MiG-25P some time ago... and have a Saphir-25 too.. somewhere... The Smerch is included in the big MiG-25 package , iirc... but the search and track values could be outdated, its old stuff... I think I've never released the Sapfir-25 for MiG-25PD/PDS .... but some export PD's and rebuilds kept the Smerch anyway...

AHM launch warning.. thats wrong anyway... you would get a "launch" warning only if the missile is fired in active mode off the rail ... which is the exception ... a normal warning would be if the missile is already close to you and switching to active mode ... by then you have about 10-15 seconds or so (?) to do something... .. depends.

with 2000 rounds in the 'varks ammo drum, spray 'n pray is the way to go ... no?

From how I get it, I think TKs comment ( marked red above) is aimed at the switching cockpits function..

for pics, info and stuff.. go there http://www.thirdwire.com/project_sf2.htm

ooooo.. mucho coolio!!!

yessssss..... something total different for a change ...

black vark .. the coolest vark ever!!

cc.. you are fully patched up hehe

yep, the groundobjectdata.ini is gone since a long time, the data from it is now a part of the groundobjects main ini file, e.g. M48A3.ini , inside it the first 3 lines with Full name and name of the data ini so for older mods, vehicles etc, look at a current ini from one of the Groundobjects, then add the data from the old groundobjectdata.ini to the objects main ini , which always has the same name as the objects Foldername ~

Pukin dogs.. yessss ...

to adjust gun jam probability, change the reliability value of the gun in the gundata.ini

in the objectdata.cat, below all the decals

Seavark

the command can unjam any type of gun, as long as AllowUnjamAttempt= is not set to FALSE in the aircraft data ini , in case it does have that entry ....