Offutt Air Force Base

My memories of my 41 months as an aircraft maintenance officer at Offutt AFB, Nebraska.

I first arrived at Offutt in December 1967, and soon found that on-base housing for junior officers was not available. So we had to find something off base. We found a house, then went on leave until January.

I signed back in on January 4, 1968.

I was first assigned to flightline maintenance. Working on the flightline in January was brutal. The weather was very windy, with temperatures frequently in the sub-zero range. I was issued a set of cold weather gear, which made life almost bearable.

Our squadron commander was Lt. Col. Skusa. My immediate supervisor was 1st Lt. Dennison. I met both of them and felt somewhat comfortable working with them. Lt. Dennison had two hobbies which he encouraged me to enjoy, also. One was pheasant hunting. I didn't have a shotgun, so I declined that one. He also liked to make furniture at the woodworking hobby shop on base. He showed me a baby crib he had made for his baby son. It was very well made. I decided on making a kitchen table. It was quite large and sturdy, a double pedestal with a round top, covered in a wood grain Formica. Turning the legs on a lathe took a long time. Our daughter, Holly, is still using that table.

One of my first duties was to meet the Base Commander. As I was waiting outside his office, I was accosted by a captain who was the commander of the Air Police Squadron for the base. He told me I was not fit to meet the commander, since I had not had a haircut recently. He told me the base standard for hair was much shorter than I had, and that I'd better get it cut immediately. He did tell me where to go. I also soon found out that I would be expected to get it cut weekly to maintain that standard. I resolved to get a hair clipper for Georgia to use on me. We were inspected every week by the Chief of Maintenance, Col. Moser. He pronounced my first home haircut unsatisfactory, and said it looked like I got a haircut with a chopping ax. It took a few more efforts for Georgia to get them to meet the colonel's standard.

After a few months, some newer maintenance officers came in and I was transferred to the Field Maintenance Squadron. Then I was in charge of several of the maintenance shops. It was interesting to become acquainted with the general aircraft, electric, sheet metal, machine, propeller, engine, pneudraulics, and avionics (electronics), and auxiliary equipment shops. We also had a woodworking shop, the only one in the air force outside the Pentagon. Some of our aircraft were rather fancy inside, and had nice wood paneling which this shop maintained. We had 14 generals on the base, who felt they needed fancy trappings in their airplanes. Most of the time this shop just made fancy picture frames for officers' offices at SAC headquarters.

When I moved to the Field Maintenance Squadron I was given a some extra duties. I was made Squadron Information Officer, a member of the accident investigation team, head of the crash recovery team, and captain of the golf team. I was the only officer who played golf, so that's why I got that assignment.

As Squadron Information Officer, I was asked to submit an article every month to the base newspaper. I enjoyed that every month. The first article I wrote was about the history of one of our aircraft, the C-97. The editor of the paper was impressed and sent out a photographer to take pictures to accompany the article. The base commander, Col. Crouchly, was also impressed. He had a weekly column in the base paper, which he didn't write. He had several young officers on the base submit monthly articles for his column, and he chose one each week which ran under his by-line. Most of the articles I submitted were published. My squadron commander and the chief of maintenance also had me send the articles through them for approval. One article I wrote was aimed at the tendency of senior officers to bully their subordinates. There was too much use of intimidation instead of leadership. The article never made it to the base commander. My fellow junior officers usually got to the base newspaper earlier than I did, and they had learned to recognize my style. When I got to work one morning, they were laughing at what they saw as irony in the article. It was published under the by-line of the chief of maintenance. He was guilty of using intimidation more than almost anyone we knew. It appeared that he had learned his leadership style from others, and he didn't like it any better than we did.

As a member of the accident investigation team, I was sent out any time a USAF plane crashed in our base area. We covered a large area. The crashes I helped investigate were a B-58, which crashed near Lincoln, Nebraska, the T-39 from our own unit which crashed near McCook, NE, (I shared that story earlier in "Black Lightning".) and a a C-133, which also crashed near McCook.  


The B-58 was a supersonic bomber with delta wings and four engines. It had a crew of two. There was a pilot and a copilot. The copilot also acted as navigator and bombardier. The plane had limited range, so it usually had a detachable belly pod which provided additional fuel for extended range. Other material could be carried in the belly pod, such as bombs or cargo, also. The idea was that the plane would fly to the target, drop the belly pod and bombs, and then outrun any fighters sent up to intercept it. 


This particular B-58 was on a training flight over North Dakota. They were headed south when the front mounting bracket on the belly pod either released or broke. The windshear caused the back of the pod to be jammed up into the rear fuselage of the aircraft, where it severed the controls to the wings and tail. The plane was flying straight and level, but could not turn, nor go up or down. They flew south until the engines ran out of fuel. Then the pilot and copilot ejected. The aircraft continued on for a few miles and then fluttered down like a falling leaf into a farm wheat field. Then it caught on fire. The nearest military facility was the Air National Guard station at the Lincoln, Nebraska airport. They sent out fire trucks, but the people on the trucks were afraid to put out the fire because they thought they needed to get authority from the Air Force to fight the fire. They finally did cover the wreck with flame suppressing foam. 


The accident investigation was simple. The pilots knew what had happened, and the fire destroyed anything that would have explained what happened to the pod mount. After the investigation I headed the team to pick up the wreckage. We loaded everything on flatbed trucks and took it to the wrecking yard at the Nebraska Air National Guard facility at the Lincoln airport. 


A couple of weeks later I got a phone call from the Pentagon. The officer introduced himself as the manager of the inventory of the type of engines used on the B-58. He wanted to know where we had disposed of them. When I told him they were at the Lincoln, Nebraska airport, he told me that because they were still classified material, they needed to be taken to a secure wrecking yard, which meant that they had to come to Offutt. He also said they needed to be buried for security reasons. We then picked up the four engines and took them to the Offutt wrecking yard. I discussed with the manager of that facility the fact that they needed to be buried. He knew about that, but told me that it was going to be difficult, because the water table was only about two feet below the surface. The wrecking yard was on the lowest part of the base, and was only about 200 yards from the Missouri River.


The C-133 was a very large cargo aircraft with four gas turbine engines driving four large propellers. This particular C-133 had five Army helicopters in its cargo bay. The helicopters were of the type you would have seen in the TV show or movie, M*A*S*H. The accident investigation discovered that the propeller on the left wing, closest to the fuselage, had come off, and slashed the side of the body. The whole aircraft was pressurized, and the sudden decompression blew the entire front end off. The cockpit was separated from the rest of the plane, and crashed about thirty yards from the rest. The crew all perished. The aircraft was too large for our capability to pick it up. It was going to require a railroad car to hold all the wreckage. So it was contracted out.


Another aircraft we worked on recovering was an Army National Guard helicopter that crashed on an island in the Platte River, not far from its confluence with the Missouri River. The pilot was on a training flight and decided to check out some fishing spots in the Platte. He landed on the island, then failed to give it enough power on take-off. The wind caught the craft and flipped it over. We considered several ways to get it across the river. Finally, CMSgt Willsey called the Army at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, and asked if they could send a lifting helicopter to pick it up. Their Skycrane picked it up easily, carried it down the Platte to the Missouri River, then up river to the Offutt wrecking yard.

As captain of the golf team, I really got a neat assignment. Our squadron had two young golfers who had been professionals before joining the Air Force. We also had two or three 'scratch' golfers who were civilian employees in our shops. A scratch golfer usually shoots near par. No other team on the base ever even came close to competing with that group. We actually had two teams. One that played 18 holes on the professionally designed course, and another that played 9 holes on a regular community type course. General Curtis Lemay, who had been the chief of SAC (the Strategic Air Command) had a lot of power, and had commissioned a really nice golf course for the base. Congressmen, Senators, and Presidents played on that course regularly. I played on the 9 hole course. We were tied for first place going into the last week of the season. When I drove up and got my clubs out of the trunk, my assistant took my woods out of my bag and told me to play only with my irons. I then shot the best round I had had that season, and we took first place.

While I was at Offutt, the Air Force came out with a new exercise program. This was our introduction to aerobics. The requirement I remember was that we had to run 1 1/2 miles within a certain time. It started in winter, and it way too cold outside to run, so many of us would go to the base gymnasium to run around the basketball courts. We were given 6 months to get in shape, and then had to take a timed test. I ran it in 7 minutes 39 seconds. It turned out I was the 3rd fastest on the base that first testing period. A couple of other officers who were part of the Air Force Cross Country Team invited me to join them. But they were both single and had jobs that allowed them to train seriously. I had a family and a more restrictive job, so I declined.

I did find it fun to play badminton at the base gym. That seemed to be a major activity there, with some very competitive leagues. I found I had good reflexes, which gave me some advantage. But really good players had developed strategies, which I never did.

As an officer, I was expected to join the Officer's Club. I didn't feel like I could afford the monthly dues, and since it was primarily an alcohol drinking club, I really didn't want to contribute to that. There was a lot of pressure to join, but I managed to avoid it. I was given assignments occasionally to inventory the warehouse at the club. I became familiar with the names of all the alcoholic beverages, and was glad I wasn't tempted to sample any.

I left the Air Force in May 1971, a little over 4 years after my entry. I had no intention of continuing in the military, but soon was asked to join the Utah Air National Guard. Accepting that request was one of the best things I every did.