Click on photos to view full size

(For more photos visit my complete JetWarbird Photo Gallery)

Larry Salganek preps the MiG-15

MiG-15 cockpit

All smiles after landing

    Duke had remarked to me on the first day that in addition to the flying experience, I was also getting quite a unique history lesson by flying their airplanes. He pointed out that by flying the L-39, Fouga, MiG-15, and T-33 in that order I was taking a trip back through time. Indeed, that was half of my reason for doing this. And the MiG-15 was the highlight in terms of history.

    The first prototype of the MiG-15 made its initial flight near Moscow on December 30, 1947. It was designed as a high altitude interceptor, with the primary mission of shooting down American B-29 bombers. It's powerplant would prove to be highly controversial as it was essentially a bolt-for-bolt copy of the British "Nene" centrifugal flow turbo jet. The design of the airframe, particularly the swept back wings, derived from German aerodynamic research conducted during World War II. The airplane was a function of wrapping the smallest possible fuselage around the most powerful and reliable engine available at the time.

    The MiG gave the U.S. and its allies a rude shock when it first entered combat in the Korean War. It could easily out perform its competition, which consisted of Gloster Meteors, F-80 Shooting Stars, Grumman Panthers, and various prop-driven holdovers from World War II. This caused the U.S. to rush the F-86 Sabre into service to counter the threat.

    The Sabre and MiG were fairly well matched in terms of performance. The MiG could climb and accelerate faster, but the Sabre performed better at low altitudes and had a far superior gunsight. Also, the MiG was designed to shoot down bombers, not dogfight, and was equipped with a heavy-caliber cannon that had a slow rate of fire. But what really made the Sabre prevail in Korea was the skill of the U.S. pilots. They were well trained and aggressive, whereas the Korean and Chinese pilots were often relative novices. When the Sabre pilots encountered aggressive enemy airplanes, it was assumed they were piloted by Russian instructors.

    In any case, the MiG-15 was a rugged airplane that was ahead of its time, and in the right hands was capable of much mayhem. It was still in limited service with the Polish Air Force as recently as the early 1990's.

    And one day short of of the 56th anniversary of its maiden flight, I would climb into a MiG-15 in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

    Larry took me through another careful briefing. Although he and Duke always appear serious about what they do, I quickly got the feeling there was no fooling around whatsoever with this airplane. The swept wings are great for going fast, but terrible for slow flight. They put out a lot of drag at high angles of attack, which can make for disastrous takeoffs and landings if the airplane is mishandled. The MiG is legendary for having nasty spin characteristics, and Larry said we wouldn't even allow it to go into a full stall.

    It is also the only one of their planes with a live ejection seat. I had read through the aircraft's manual the night before, and was both amused and a little alarmed at the section covering the seat. The airplane was over fifty years old, and nobody seems to know when the last person punched out of one, or what happened to him. So the manual says things like, "The MiG-15 has a first generation ejection seat," and "The best historical information leads us to believe that an ejecting pilot would suffer a serious spinal injury."

    That was not encouraging.

    However, Larry Salganek is very encouraging, and he assured me that an ejection was almost out of the question. The only reason would be if the airplane was "seriously on fire," or suffered a structural failure. And he had never heard of a MiG coming apart in flight. But of course we went over what to do if the circumstance did arise. There would be a safety pin in the seat handle which I would remove before pushing the handle forward to jettison the canopy. Then I was to bring my feet back into two stirrups at the base of the seat, put my elbows in, sit up straight, tuck in my chin, and pull the trigger to eject myself from the aircraft. Then I would have to undo the seat harness (making certain they were not the parachute straps!) and push the seat away from me before pulling the D-ring on the chute. At this point I would need to teach myself skydiving rather rapidly. Larry kindly left out the intermediate step in which I would soil myself, but I'm sure I would have figured that part out on my own.

    After the briefing we went out to the ramp so Larry could supervise the fueling of the aircraft. He was careful to make sure all the fuel caps were closed, and double checked the amount of fuel in each tank. Although I don't know much about the plane, I also walked around peering into wheel wells and providing another set of eyes. At one point I stood back and watched the lineman work, and could scarcely believe that they were getting it ready for me to fly! At the same time, I felt a lot of respect for the airplane and hoped it would be well behaved during my flight.

    Then it was time to climb on up and strap in. Now I've said the Fouga had a snug cockpit, but at the same time that airplane has a friendly quality somehow. The MiG is equally snug, but the plane struck me as much more serious, almost menacing. Everything is black like the Fouga, but the cockpit is deeper in the fuselage. It seemed to wrap around and over me, with the canopy rails coming up to shoulder level. Serious airplane, serious cockpit.

    Larry stood on the wing next to me and reviewed the ejection and manual bailout procedures, having me locate the seat pin, trigger, and canopy latches. He also had me assume the ejection position, at which point I found I could just barely bring my feet back into the stirrups. That was a bit chilling because I couldn't imagine doing it under pressure in a real emergency. Again I wondered how taller people flew the darn thing. Larry then pulled out the safety pin near my headrest and informed me that the seat was now "hot."

    When I was strapped in and ready Larry climbed into the front cockpit. As he prepared to start the engine I once again marveled at the situation I found myself in. Every time I see a MiG in a museum I wish I was sitting in it, getting ready to fly. Now I was! And the beast was about to wake up. I imagined it was like an extinct dinosaur coming to life to growl at some unsuspecting tourists.

    The plane started with a rumble, while Larry described what he was doing so I could follow along. We tested the brakes and taxied out to the runway. I grinned with excitement as we trundled along the taxiway. I was really going to fly a MiG! A moment later we were lined up on the runway and we ran the engine up to 9000 rpm with the brakes holding us in place. After verifying the brakes were good one last time Larry called back, "We're out of here, buddy!" Brakes were released and we began the takeoff roll. The MiG seemed to accelerate faster than the other jets. Then the nose came up, we held attitude for a moment, and the MiG flew itself off.

    Larry gave me control just after liftoff and I executed a climbing turn up to 12500'. After leveling off we let the plane accelerate, and it seemed to come alive as we went through 350 knots. It wanted to fly fast, no question about it. Larry invited me to do some turns and get the feel for it, which I did with relish. "Now you're flying a fighter," he said.

    After feeling it out for a few minutes Larry called for an aileron roll. He demonstrated one and then I did one. Raise the nose and hold it there, then a full throw of the aileron to roll it over. It felt great! Larry then asked if I wanted to try a loop or move on to something else. "Let's do the loop!" I said, with no hesitation.

    Loop entry speed in the MiG is 400 knots, which works out to about 500 mph at altitude. A lot of height is gained at that speed, and we topped out just below the Class A airspace at 18000'. Larry called back to me, "You just looped a MiG! What do you think of that?"

    "I think I like this airplane a lot!"

    Larry then had me make a turn because we were moving toward a slightly sensitive area. "The radar guys might get nervous if they see an unidentified VFR target heading straight for Los Alamos at 400 knots." That's no joke in this day and age, and I turned us smartly away from that heading.

    Then we did some slow flight, and I saw what Larry had meant about the slow speed qualities of the MiG. At 140 knots the plane flew straight, but the stick could be fully deflected to either side without doing anything. Turning at that speed would be an exercise in finesse, and inadvisable at low altitude. Adding and retracting the flaps produced a marked pitch change. This bird was definitely built to fly fast. It didn't seem to care for doing anything under 300 knots.

    We approached the airport for pattern work, which was fun. We did one touch-and-go and a full stop. It was over much too soon, although I was relieved to be on the ground safely. I had looked warily at the ejection seat handle several times during the flight, not quite trusting the safety pin, and kept my hands well away. This was a serious airplane, and it had treated me to an impressive demonstration of what it could do. I felt as if I had just taken a tiger for a walk on a leash. Fortunately, it hadn't been inclined to bite.

    The next day would bring my final flight, and another history lesson, in the Lockheed T-33.