IT
WAS COLD IN KOREA
When our carrier the USS Philippine Sea joined Task
Force 77 in the Sea of Japan in January 1952, the
snowy weather turned from bad to miserable. All of
us who worked on the flight deck handling the aircraft
were issued heavy, almost canvas, winter gear which
consisted of a hat, jacket,and trousers, all lined
with a wool fuzz that was called "alpaca".
Those clothes on top of our skivvies, woolen long
johns, and our usual dungarees made us look like over-stuffed
clowns, and most of our movement was almost the same
as clowns.
Those of us who maintained,
and flew, in the only helicopter on board had no idea
what the temperature was on the flight deck. Being
innovative, we devised our own thermometer. We selected
a bright metal part of the port landing gear strut
as our target. When we spit on it; if the spit slid
off - it was above freezing, if the spit froze to
it - it was freezing, if the spit froze and bounced
off- it was damned cold.
One memorable morning we brought
our helicopter from the semi-cold hanger deck onto
the flight deck via the number 2 deck edge elevator.
What a sight ! The previous nights storm had left
the deck covered with several inches of ice and snow,
and all the aircraft covered as well. About then we
figured out that the Air Boss of the flight deck was
smarter than we had thought. ( He had sometimes ordered
the helicopter to be located on the flight deck in
un-flyable situations ). On this morning he had positioned
the F9F Panther jets, always the first to be launched,
so their exhaust pipes were aimed directly down the
flight deck. By turning up the jets at low power their
hot exhaust began to thaw the deck and the first squadron
of AD Skyraiders until their engines would start.
Slowly the last two squadrons of F4U Corsairs aft
of the AD's would gain the heat coming across the
flight deck, and all the propellers were turning.
Our helicopter was launched from the number 2 elevator,
and flew around to the starboard plane guard position
while the F9F jets were topped off with fuel and catapulted
off to Korea. As the other planes on the flight deck
had not yet been fully armed with bombs and missiles,
they landed our helicopter on the carriers bow, and
instructed us to stand-by until the deck launch was
ready. The ship was still headed into the wind which
ment 30 or more knots of wind coming across the deck.
About the time we put the "sox" and tie
downs on the rotor blade tips, again the snow storm
hit us full force. The crewmen on port side jumped
into the helicopter filling up the the available space
inside, so I headed for the starboard catwalk to find
a hole to hide in.
 Luckily,
I found an inset with a door hatch, but it was locked.
I was so cold that rather than look further I just
sat on the steel deck, glad to be out of the wind
and snow. For some time I sat there commiserating
with myself about the conditions I was forced to live
in. Damn weather, damn War, damn ship, damn Navy,
damn everthing. Then, for some reason my thoughts
turned to two of my high school buddies who had joined
the Marines and were on the front lines in Korea.
I thought about the snow and the cold and how they
had to dig a fox-hole and live in it 24 hours each
day, and fight the enemy with rifles. I thought, sailor,
you are not bad off. Tonight you will get a warm meal,
and sleep in a dry warm bunk.
In a short period of time the
snow cleared and the Air Boss announced on the PA
system - Launch the helicoper and all aircraft.
My sense of duty kicked in,
and with a renewed inner warmth, the cold weather
became just a minor irritant in my daily work.
When one writes about the history
of HU-1, the reader may think that the men who flew
in them should be the most important factor, and that's
true. I also believe some detail about the helicopters
they flew has to be told for the reader to understand
that these machines were un-tried in fleet warfare
operations. In many ways they were like the first
bi-planes that flew in WW-1. Even the three main rotor
blades looked like they came from a bi-plane of that
era. Each blade had a tapered metal strut from the
rotor head to the blade tip. Spaced along the strut
were wooden airframes over which cloth fabric was
applied to form an airfoil - much like the bi-plane
wings. Because of their size the rotor blades were
so unstable in windy conditions that a canvas envelope
with a tie down rope was applied to the tip of each
blade after landing to prevent the blades from coning
upward and damaging the rotor head. Pilots and air-crewmen
that flew these helicopters in Korea are truly pioneers,
in that they learned the operational characteristics
of the HO3S helicopter in Korea by trial and error.
Some humorous do's and don'ts
:
- Don't attempt to launch a
helicopter from the ship with one of the 3 wheels
tied down.
- Do salute Admirals when they approach your helicopter
on the flight deck, even when your head is without
hat.
- Don't attempt to land a helicopter on the carrier
deck edge elevator in gusty winds, the main rotor
blades will try to demolish the tail cone assembly.
- Don't attempt to launch a helicopter from the ships
bow when the helicopter's nose is pointed toward the
ships stern in strong winds.
- Do think about the Marines and Army on the ground
in Korea while while you're freezing your butt off
on a flight deck. ( You'll probably get some warm
chow and a dry sack to sleep in tonight, and the chances
of getting shot at are nil ).
Doug Froling
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