The woes of learning to fly under Instrument Flight Rules (IFR)

The progression in my flight training in the US Army was Primary flight in a TH55a, UH-1 transition, Basic Instruments in a UH-1 flight simulator and finally Advanced Instruments in a UH-1D/H. This progression of this had been quite an up and down experience. I had encountered at first a major downer in learning my fear of heights. Then a couple of ups, first facing that fear and persevering because of it, And then I just flat had a good time flying Hueys. When I reported for Basic Instruments, the dynamic of flight school changed for me again.

Completing the UH-1 transition, we moved from Bravo Company to Charlie Company and that meant that for the first time in two and a half months I was living at home and not subject to the whims and desires of TAC officers. It was May of 1988 and I was back at home with a loving wife and 3 kids under the age of 6 and one of those a newborn, less than 8 weeks old. For my morale, this was a wondrous event, but my study habits this turned out to be one of my greatest challenges. I went from no commute and riding a bus everywhere to a 20-minute commute and driving everywhere. You didn't think of it, but all the time we spent on the bus, we did a lot of reading and just talking to each other about our studies. In a way it was like going from high school to college. I didn't have my TACs to enforce study time and I was pretty much forced to set my own schedule for study based on my priorities. Having been away from the family, my studies suffered, badly.

Basic Instruments was exactly that, basic information and skills you needed to fly a helicopter without seeing where you are going. You learn skills like an instrument takeoff where you got from on the ground to in the clouds and never even looked out the windows of the helicopter. You learned how to follow your navigation aids (NAVAIDS) like your Radio Magnetic Indicator (RMI) Attitude Indicator, Turn and slip indicator and Vertical Speed Indicator (VSI).

The RMI was a compass on steroids. A magnetic compass is nice but during turns it has a lag and to make things even more fun depending on if you are turning toward or away from north or south it lags differently. The RMI has no lag so it was the instrument of choice for direction and the compass was a backup. (Redundancy, always!) The Attitude indicator was your wings on an artificial horizon so you could see if you were flying level, turning, nose high or nose low.

The Turn and slip indicator let you know if your aircraft was in "trim". It was a really neat device and you learned fairly quickly in forward flight, it wasn't hard at all to have your tail 20 degrees left of the direction of travel and the air frame tilted to the right because you didn't have everything aligned with the direction of flight. The turn and slip indicator gave you a good visual indication of this. One of the things you learn all too quickly flying instruments is that your body's feelings would deceive you in instrument flight. Prior to this we'd learned to fly by the seat of you pants. Besides looking out of the aircraft, you used the feeling of flight you got from your body's balance mechanism to help you fly the aircraft. In IFR flight this sensation quickly becomes a hindrance.

Your body doesn't intentionally deceive you during instrument flight, it just doesn't know how to react to the movement stimulus, without visual stimulus. A large part of your pilot training was aero-medical training. The physiology of flight and how flying affects your body. I'll go into this more in the future but for now I'll just talk about some of the results. "Spatial Disorientation" was the damnedest feeling you will ever encounter. In layman's terms your body loses its relationship of its position with the center of the earth. (IE: You don't know which way is up.) We all learned that gravity makes down feel down, the problem is, in IFR flight that wasn’t always the case. When your body encountered sustained G-forces without visual reference, it quickly assumed that new "feeling" as normal.

The most basic example is a standard rate turn. 3 degrees of turn per second was a standard rate turn in a Huey at 90 knots. When you first started the turn, it felt like you were turning. As you just stayed in the turn and didn't change the angle or speed for about 30 seconds, your ear balance system would stabilize and your body assumed you were flying straight and level, instead of in the middle of a turn. Once this occurred, if you rolled out of the turn wings level, your body felt like it was in a standard rate turn, going the other direction. It was important to understand this because your feeling of a correct attitude could kill you. There are hundreds of cases, usually of a Visual Flight Rules (VFR) pilot who had gone into the clouds by accident (Inadvertent IFR is the term) and called for help on the radio. They were getting guidance from the ground to get them to a safe place but they got into a turn by accident and when Air Traffic Control (ATC) tried to guide them out of it, the pilot resisted because it didn't "Feel Right" and they flew into "granite cumulus" (The ground) and killed themselves. Our instructors had us listen to actual ATC recordings and read the documentation of these events, because knowledge is power.

Okay, I see I've gone off on a technical dissertation again but I needed to explain about Spatial Disorientation to explain some of the issues I encountered in Instrument training. I'll come back to this topic is a bit when it will then make some sense.

Every time we changed a training section, my stick buddy changed, sometimes more often if someone got recycled and either departed or entered you training group. In this case, our instructor was a very experienced Instrument Flight Examiner (IFE) who by appearances was in his 50's and might have been a biker as he had some pretty long hair. He was a Vietnam Veteran and to be honest not very personable. I'm not sure if he just didn't want to be friendly or if it was more self-protection to not get attached to his students, but standoffish was my impression of him. My instructor's name like so many other names escapes me at the moment, maybe it will pop in my head later, but don't count upon it. Jonathan was my stick buddy and he was a First Lieutenant and was soon to become a new dad as his wife was over 7 months along when we started Basic Instruments (BI).

Since the training was in the simulator, Basic Instruments didn't seem real. So much was different in both my home life and the training environment. The UH-1 simulators were housed in an old hangar. This was really old technology mono-color (Cathode Ray Tube [CRT] displays) and these simulators were likely older than my 30 years at the time. They were on hydraulics so they were fully articulated and they were good enough for learning the basics. The main thing was they were cheaper and easier to maintain than real helicopters and accomplished the purpose. We learned all the basic maneuvers in the simulator.

Instrument Takeoff (ITO)

Non-Precision Approach

Precision Approach using Instrument Landing System (ILS)

Precision Approach Ground Control Intercept (GCI)

Missed Approach Procedures

Entering a Holding Pattern

Radio Navigation

NAVAID Usage

An IFR map has all kinds of radio frequencies, 3 and 4 letter identifiers for radio beacons and airfields, airways and 5 character intersections in the sky that are just arbitrary points you can locate with NAVAIDs, quite a change from looking at a 6 lanes stage field.

The cockpit layout of the simulator had the same pilot and co-pilot seats we'd had in the real aircraft and for the first time took turns in the left seat where the instructor sat because in the simulator the instructor sat behind us at a console. There he controlled the simulator and had a CRT display showing our last 15 minutes of flight track. The instructor would also double as ATC for all radio calls we made. My first impression was this is going to be boring. The simulator motion was decent but it is really hard to replicate actual flight motion when you are not flying, so it also felt fairly phony.

Most of my memories of the BI training were that my stick buddy was a much better instrument pilot. I was like a little brother tagging along and trying everything but not doing quite as well as big brother. There was not a great difference between us but he had much better finesse on most maneuvers. I could do the maneuvers to standard, he did them better than standard. His grades were mostly A's with a few B's where my grades were mostly B's and a couple of C's on my really bad days. The month of May ended and we moved on to June and Advanced Instruments (AI).

The difference between BI and AI was the difference between night and day (both figuratively and literally). To begin with BI was done on a regular schedule, pretty much the same time of day every day and no weather issues or maintenance issues (I think we missed 1 day due to a machine malfunction.) AI we had to meet weather minimums to fly, which was pretty easy in June and July, but we also rotated schedules for the first time. One week mornings, one week afternoons, then next week nights then back to mornings. You might think; "You are flying on instruments, what is the difference?" Well, the weather also affects how the aircraft flies. The simulator had settings for weather but they were fairly mild compared to what southern Alabama could throw at you during the summer.

We were flying out of a real airport for the first time and not a Heliport. Cairns Army Airfield (CAA) was our base. Cairns had 2 active runways 06/24 and 180/360 and an old 3rd runway used for parking that used to be 150/330. As part of our training, we had to get the weather report and we also had to plan our flights per the homework assignments given to us the day prior. Flight planning was likely even more important on an IFR flight than the flight itself. The better planned and prepared you were as a pilot the better the flight would go in general terms. This was the point where I began to fall behind my stick buddy Jonathan.

AI week one, was fairly uneventful. Learning the ropes of the new airfield, our new briefing rooms and the leadership team of the Flight Safety instruction team. We had been flying in the mornings and that meant you pre-flighted at dawn and took off in the calmest part of the day. You spent a couple days getting to know the feeling of flying instruments in the aircraft and you got your introduction to the Hood. Flying advanced instruments in the aircraft meant they had to do something to prevent you from looking outside while flying. A large piece of black cardboard obscured the bottom half of the windscreen in front of you, and a space blanket (Silver Mylar blanket from an emergency kit) was covering the inside of the chin bubble so you couldn't see the ground. This meant that the student couldn't hover the aircraft. Last but not least, a fiberglass hood was attached to your flight helmet to prevent you from using your peripheral vision to see outside (like blinders on a racehorse). As usual, I was lagging behind Johnathan on all bases and I was barely getting B's and he was mostly getting A's on flight grades.

Week two was rough, both spiritually for me but even more in reality due to flying during partly cloudy afternoons. I hadn't thought about it a great deal, but thermal heating had a drastic effect on the air and partly cloudy days just made it worse. Pretty much every afternoon in southern Alabama was partly cloudy. The training area was also mostly farmland and 3rd growth pine forest. Plowed fields and pine forest absorbed heat and had generally calm air above them, mature crops and hay fields generally reflected heat and had rising columns of air coming off them called "Thermals" When you flew over one to another, it could be like taking an elevator up and down, the hard part was you can't see the elevator.

Along about Thursday, I was flying second, which always sucked because Jonathan made me look bad. To make matters worse, it was a warm day and roughly 50% cloud cover at 6000 ft, which meant it was going to be a bumpy ride in AI that day. Jonathan had a "B" ride day as he was as we called it "Behind the aircraft". He had to chase his altitude and heading the entire flight as the thermals kept taking him off his assigned altitude. I knew I was going to be in trouble because he flew better than I did most days. One of the standards in flying IFR was to say within 50 feet of your assigned altitude. The Huey had no automated altitude hold or heading hold, merely force trim that helped stabilize the cyclic. After about the first 20 minutes of my flight, my instructor called ATC and terminated our flight plan taking us out of the IFR flight network because I was having such trouble maintaining altitude and airspeed he felt I was a hazard to other IFR aircraft. We flew VFR local control with him acting as my ATC. He had me practicing Basic Instrument maneuvers the rest of the flight. Needless to say I got a "C" that day. Most of the flight I was told to watch my cross check of the instruments and to stay on altitude and airspeed. I was fluctuating 150 above or below and from 80 to 100 knots and I was chasing everything and just totally slow and behind every reaction I needed to make.

Poor flight planning almost got me kicked out of flight school. It had been a bad week for me flying and the homework assignments were even worse. We had to learn both FAA flight planning and Army flight planning as we flew in both environments. The day's assignment was a IFR flight plan with holding en route. A IFR holding pattern is essentially a 4-minute oval race track in the sky. You crossed a navigation location and flew outbound 1 minute, then a standard rate turn for 1 minute (180 degrees) the inbound for 1 minute and another standard rate turn back to where you started. Detailing a FAA flight plan is fairly simple, but the Army Flight Plan was difficult and it wasn't a user friendly to process to learn. Add to that, a short night and difficulty trying to study at home because I was too distracted and you had the recipe to get a pink slip.

Pink slips were issued for unsatisfactory performance and I'd seen several candidates get them for flight training failures but I wasn't even aware you could get one without ever walking out on the flight line. Maybe I was an innovator, I don't know. We started at the briefing table as usual, and my stick buddy had his stuff perfect as he was very studious. My heart kinda sank as they went over his because I knew I was going to get raked over the coals when we reviewed mine. What I didn't expect, was the lecture I got and the reaction to my comment that I had been tired and had difficulty understanding the Army format. The instructor took the comment to mean that I was too tired to try and the next thing I know, he opened the table drawer and pulled out a pad of pink slips.

Thirty seconds later I was being taken to the "company commander" which was weird in itself as they were contractors from Flight Safety but I guess the supervisor met that role for the candidates. That was a very short meeting as he just signed off on the pink slip handed it to me and told me to report to the Training Battalion Commander (BC). This was the point where I knew I was in big trouble. Trips to the Battalion Commander rarely ended well and I was wondering how I was going to fare after this day was over. I reported to Battalion Headquarters to find the building almost vacant (At least the portion I saw, S-3 operations and the hallway outside the Battalion Commander's office). In Operations, I found a CW3 who turned out to be the Assistant Operations Officer for Aviation (S3 Air in Army lingo). He seemed surprised to see me and took the time to sit me down and talk to me. I was about as rattled as you could be, and I would suppose I looked like an Opossum in the headlights of an approaching car.

The S3 Air talked to me for a long time, I'd estimate 30 to 45 minutes, maybe even longer. He reviewed my records and noted I'd never been in trouble and my uniquely long tenure as a candidate. This lead into discussions about my medical hold, surgery, post-op etc. and finally he asked me what I thought was wrong that had brought me to his office. I pretty much told him what I'd told my instructor and I got the first glimmer of hope that I still had an aviation career. He asked if there was someplace I could go on a daily basis to study without interruption or distractions. I thought for a moment and realized that the dayroom for C Company was rarely used and was a pretty quiet place. So I told him about it and that I figured I could go there daily from about 4 AM to 6 AM before either class or flight line for a daily study session. It seemed that my moving back home had definitely adversely affected my study habits. The S3 Air then said "Let's go see the Commander."

After we had been talking I'd forgotten that there were still required steps that had to be taken and even if I didn't get kicked out, there could be non-judicial punishment awarded for my creativity in getting a pink slip. So there I was bracing against the hallway wall while the S3 Air entered the BC office through a side door. He seemed to be gone forever before he came out into the hallway and closed the door. I asked if I was to report to the BC now and he said I had already reported and I would return to training the next day. That was it, end of the pink slip. No other adverse actions, only a directive to spend 2 hours EVERY day studying in the C Company day room before each training flight.

So I survived that encounter, now I had to face my instructor again the next day. I reworked my homework and had something at least passable but not perfect the next day. I don't recall any further paperwork issues with that instructor, but what I do recall was I still sucked flying advanced instruments. Most flights, whatever grade Johnathan got, I got one grade lower. If he got his usual A, I got a B, sometimes a C. Things didn't change until Friday when John didn't show up at the briefing table. Our instructor informed me we wouldn't see John until Monday as he'd just become a new dad. So that day we were going to be one on one. This looked to be a long day as we had 4 hours of training time and if one person wasn't there, the other person got it all. The was much like what John got while I was visiting with the BC. We did the normal flight planning and the table talk was quiet and nothing out of the ordinary. Same with preflight, nothing out of the ordinary.

The training flight was highlighted by a 900-foot ceiling of complete cloud cover which is a AI student's dream. Complete overcast meant that no thermals could develop and you got a smooth ride. Hey, what do you know, I got a break for a change. We took off and headed north at 3000-ft. to Troy, Alabama. Troy was north of the Ft. Rucker reservation and was a favorite place for AI students to practice ILS approaches due to the design of the approach and less air traffic. The approach was 090 degrees (due east) and as far as ILS approaches go, pretty run of the mill. We completed the first hour or so flying with the trip to Troy and a couple of approaches on the ILS. My instructor then told me to fly direct to the Enterprise VOR. VOR stands for Variable Omni-directional Radio beacon and is still the standard direction tool for IFR flights. This was pretty easy as far as flight mechanics go. I tuned in the VOR frequency in the VOR radio and the heading indicator on the RMI showed we needed to fly heading 190 (almost due south) and a quick computation of airspeed based on the winds indicated 29 minutes to get there. I reported what I had computed and he said it sounded good to him and we were off to Enterprise again at 3000-ft.

Flying IFR could be boring as it was very repetitive. You were doing a constant scan of the instrument panel to ensure that you were maintaining your heading on the RMI, your attitude on the attitude indicator, your trim on the turn and slip, your altitude on the VSI and altimeter and then you checked the systems instruments to ensure that the engine temps, pressures and rotor speed were good, fuel remaining etc. This is known as your instrument scan and you repeated it every 7 to 10 seconds. This leg of the flight was pretty much a cake run and all you heard was an occasional call between ATC and other air traffic and the beeps for the Morse code identifier of the VOR. What this did do was give me a lot of time to think about how I felt I was being treated by the instructor.

My instructor almost seemed personable to John but I was always an outsider. John was rarely criticized during out training flights and I kinda felt like a punching bag. This bothered me enough that after about 15 minutes of absolutely no conversation between us, I asked him if I could ask a personal question. I told him that I felt that we were having a personality conflict and that I felt we needed to do something about it. I wasn't unheard of to not get along with your instructor, this was how I got some of my stick buddies as ones I'd been paired with had been sent to swap with someone who wasn't getting along with their instructor. I hadn't gotten the nerve to ask for a swap as that would result in getting recycled, but I had to try something.

My instructor seemed truly surprised that I was feeling the way I was feeling. We had likely the closest thing to a real conversation about something other than flying in the three plus weeks we'd been working together. I explained the way I was feeling and why. He assured me that he had no ill will against me and that he would try harder to treat John and I more equally, although he said he didn't feel much needed to be done. We completed the flight, and did our post-light inspection  and heading to the briefing room. There I got my daily grade slip with the first "A" I had ever received in advanced instruments or basic instrument for that fact. Generally, I'd been a "B" student which is about average in flight school.

We completed our training in about another 10 flights and then one morning at the briefing table, our instructor told us to meet with an IFE at the simulator for our AI check ride. Now each check ride was nerve wracking but the AI check ride brought with it a special kind of terror. All the check rides before had been pass/fail. You could either do the maneuvers to standard or you couldn't. This one was different as the trainer submitted his evaluation score to the commander (0 to 100 grading scale) and your examiner has to give you a similar score, the catch was, the two scores had to be within 5 point plus or minus of each other. (if you were sent to the IFE with an instructor score of 80, you have to get a score of 76 to 85 for example).

The examiner was a personable fellow and he did and excellent job of making us relaxed and made the check ride as low stress as possible. It really felt great and we both seemed to do well. I was super ready to hear that we'd both passed and then I was struck with terror when John and I got our number grades and they matched. We both scored 90 out of 100. I had on a few occasions when I had a relatively good day, matched John when he had a bad day. But he'd been rocking his flying lately and has gotten "A's" for about a week straight. I could just see myself being recycled for another check ride because of grade discrepancy. We returned to the flight line to turn in our scores and I was waiting for the disappointing news when our instructor told us both "Congratulations". He handed us our grades he'd sent up; we'd both been given an 88! Only two points off our check ride score, and we were done with AI. I was happy but incredulous at how after 6 weeks of getting beaten up over my poor flying, I ended with the same score as his pet student. Regardless, it all seemed to have worked out.