Pilot knows bird strike danger first hand

  • Published
  • By Noel Getlin
  • Team Eglin Public Affairs
EGLIN AIR FORCE BASE, Fla. --  Former 46th Test Wing Vice Commander Col. Kevin Burns went for 26 and a half years without hitting a single bird in flight. But on April 23, 2001, just a short time before he retired from the Air Force, he found out just how serious a bird strike could be. 

The colonel, with 800 F-16 flight hours and 4,500 total flight hours under his belt, was flying an F-16B on a routine bombing mission out on the range under low-level clouds. A flight test engineer was in the back seat for the mission. 

"We were going out to the range to drop trainer bombs, BU-33s, on a two-ship mission," said the colonel, who incidentally, was the chair of the bird activity committee at Eglin at the time. 

He was on his third bomb run of the mission when the tell-tale smoke used to spot the bomb landing didn't appear. He glanced over his shoulder to look for the smoke and then at the cockpit display that shows how many bombs are on board. As he began the turn to climb back up to pattern altitude, it happened. 

"I made it most of the way through the 90-degree turn when all I saw was this big grey (area)," said Colonel Burns. "Then I heard this really loud crack noise and I knew (a bird) hit the airplane." 

He said everything seemed OK at first; and just as he thought he'd gotten lucky, the engine began grinding and he knew the bird had gone down the engine intake. 

"It's a bad thing when your engine starts making noise in a single engine airplane because you don't know how long (the engine) is going to last," the colonel said. He immediately headed in the direction of the closest airfield, Duke Field, and climbed as high as he could. He wanted to get to at least 2,000 feet above ground level, the recommended minimum altitude for ejecting from an aircraft. 

He alerted Duke Field tower to his situation and that he was on his way so ground crews and the fire department would be ready. 

In the meantime, the engine made intermittent grinding noises. 

"I didn't know if we were going to make it." Colonel Burns said. "If the engine quit, we were going to eject right away." 

Pilots practice a flame-out landing; that is when the engines are dead. In an F-16, the pattern begins at about 7,000 to 8,000 feet above the ground to make the landing. The colonel tried to intercept the flame-out pattern from his altitude as he approached Duke Field. 

But there was an additional problem - the aircraft was much heavier than an F-16 usually is when coming in for landing. He pushed the button to jettison the external fuel tanks, but didn't hold it down long enough and they didn't separate. 

"We were pretty full of fuel since it was early in the mission," Colonel Burns said. In addition, they also had a hot gun with lots of ammunition that he was going to shoot during the mission but hadn't had a chance. 

Because of the weight, he came in for landing at a high speed making the brakes extremely hot. Unbeknownst to the pilot and passenger, the strike had punctured an oil tank and severed fuel lines causing jet fuel to spill out in a large pool beneath them on the runway. When he tried to move the plane out of the puddle, the engine was so trashed, it wouldn't move. 

"When I pushed it up to go, the engine compressor stalled and it wouldn't go anywhere, so I shut the engine down," he said. " When you shut down on those kind of airplanes, if no one's underneath to catch it, there's a little fuel dump from the engine (from fuel in the lines)." When that happened, the fuel dumped on the hot brakes igniting the fuel on the ground. 

"We were surprised by it," he said. "I saw this big fireball underneath the left wing, so we egressed the aircraft more quickly than we'd like to." 

The firefighters were on it right away and, other than a few bruises, both men made it out unscathed. 

From the experience, officials improved communications on the airfield. At that time, the pilot could not communicate with the firefighters on the ground, so the tower relayed messages back and forth. But now, the pilot can speak directly with ground crews and firefighters. 

That is just one of the many changes that has been made in dealing with bird and aircraft collisions. In response to this incident and the high number of bird and aircraft collisions, Eglin's Bird and Wildlife Aircraft Strike Hazard program ramped up efforts in 2005. The program deals with immediate threats, but looks to long-term solutions to discourage birds from the area. 

Colonel Burns said every effort helps. 

"It could have been worse," he said.