Classic thread - Good puke stories

[ClearedHot]

Going through some old pictures from UPT (yes we had cameras back then), and I was reminded of a dude in my class who was on the verge of washing out for air sickness. On one flight he horked into his mask then mucked it back down so as to avoid being washed out...total dedication.

Anyone else have some good puke stories? Just to set the right tone, please enjoy this clip from a Swedish game show...

[brickhistory]

Somewhat dated (nearly 15 years ago now, Smurf jets gone, F-4s gone, and note the "F/A 22" mention as well as a little hyperbole for a non-aviation audience, but maybe it meets your request to get the 'ralph' flowing....

CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR

Pinned by the crushing G-force, I could only move my eyeballs as the black crosses of the Luftwaffe fighter flicked by overhead. Helpless, I waited for the end.

The preceding wasn’t an event that happened in the flak-filled skies of Europe 60 years ago, but over the stark, sun baked desert of New Mexico of ten years past. The end wasn’t the pounding of machine gun and cannon fire into my cockpit but the worst airplane ride my stomach ever flew.

Glasses at an early age prevented me from becoming a fighter pilot but I had gotten close to the action as a ground control intercept (GCI) officer in the US Air Force. As a GCI controller, I used my mobile, tactical radar system to see a 360-degree or “God’s eye” view of a chunk of sky. I could then verbally “paint” a picture of that sky to a pilot entering combat.

A fourth or fifth generation fighter like the F-15, F-16, or even the F/A-22 can see with its radar only about 60 degrees either side of its nose. Using a data link can expand that envelope, but going “heads down” during a dogfight is a good way to take a missile in the lips. Hence the advantage GCI and AWACS (an airborne GCI platform) brings.

At Holloman Air Force Base in the early 1990s, I was the Chief of Training for my squadron. As an angle to work a backseat ride, I approached my bosses with the “if I can understand the pilot’s environment I can provide a better service” rationale. To my surprise, they agreed. I soon accomplished the requirements necessary to jump in a jet - altitude chamber, ejection seat training (“If you hear EJECT, EJECT, EJECT and your are still there by the final EJECT, you will be logging solo time!”), and getting kitted out with flight gear.

I then got on the schedule for a 2v2 dissimilar air combat (DACT) mission. I would be the “Bravo” or backseater in one of two AT-38Bs going against two Luftwaffe F-4 Phantoms. We would be “red air” or the bad guys to the Germans as the “blue air” good guys.

The AT-38B is an upgraded variant of the Air Force’s venerable supersonic trainer, the T-38. By adding a gunsight and a centerline hardpoint that could carry either a gun pod or a practice bomb rack, the B model made an effective fighter lead-in aircraft for young pilots just out of training headed to flying the afore-mentioned F-15 or F-16. Nicknamed the “Smurf jet” due to its rippled blue camouflage, the AT-38B was essentially a jet-powered P-51. With no radar or other advanced avionics, it just went fast and turned well enough to tangle with the F-4.

The German Air Force had long conducted flight training in the American Southwest to take advantage of the excellent flying weather. At Holloman, a joint USAF-Luftwaffe squadron trained newly minted fighter pilots in the “Rhino’s” capabilities as well as highly experienced F-4 crews undergoing advanced Weapon School instruction. With all this flying, my GCI site stayed busy with our customers.

The morning of the big day arrived. I briefed with the crews, but this time as one of them and not as the GCI “fifth” wingman. The flight lead covered all the administration (motherhood) stuff - start engines, taxi, take-off times, altitude blocks for each side and the other details required to ensure the safety of the flight.

Next we discussed the tactics we’d perform as red air. We’d fly formations and maneuvers akin to what the former Soviet Union flew in order to provide a realistic “look” for the Luftwaffe students. The limitation for this flight, however, was only using visual weapons, guns and AIM-9 Sidewinders. The F-4 could carry a radar-guided missile, the AIM-7 Sparrow, but shooting us beyond visual range (BVR) wouldn’t be any fun and wouldn’t allow the two sides to mix it up close. Obviously, all shots would be simulated. Realistic training is good, but real explosions can get very expensive very quickly!

We stepped, cranked engines, taxied, and launched as per the brief. I was in heaven as the flight took off and joined in close echelon right formation. Looking at our wingman, I could see his “Darth Vader-ish” helmet and oxygen mask and knew that I looked just the same. I felt invincible being in such company. Maybe this feeling is part of the appeal of flying fighters.

After each flight went to their respective distant corners of the airspace, we went through our g-awareness turns, configured the switches for air-to-air and then it’s “FIGHT’S ON!”

Sitting at my radarscope on the ground, the action of an engagement seems to take several minutes. The glowing symbols of the aircraft inch slowly down the scope as I follow the maneuvers and call them out to my aircraft.

Actually riding in the jet and the forty-mile separation closed in seconds. Before I knew it, we heard the “merged” call from our controller. Merged meant that the disparate blips on his scope had merged into one blob. From experience, my pilot knew that the call often lagged by several seconds to the reality in the air. Sure enough, a quick look over his left shoulder and he glimpsed the gray F-4s slashing past overhead.

A mighty tug and pull on the stick in pursuit and my world in the back seat contracted. Being tall and skinny as well as not being acclimated to pulling “g’s,” I grayed out. I could hear everything but until my pilot unloaded the jet, I wasn’t going to see anything.

After some swirling around the sky, none of which I could reconstruct if I tried, we knocked it off and reset. Both flights turned for their points to set up for the next fight.

Regaining my vision, my gastrointestinal tract let me know it was NOT happy at the treatment. I unclipped the side of my mask, loosened my shoulder straps and reached for my Mark I barf bag.

As I heaved, I thought I had more time before the next engagement. I was therefore totally unprepared for the next “merged” call. With my mask loose and the preoccupation with examining my stomach’s contents, I must have missed the “fight’s on” broadcast.

This call went the same as the last fight. The same pull and hard climbing turn produced the same “g’s” and loss of vision. Unfortunately, with my shoulder straps loose, I was pinned to my lap by the crushing force. My now-filled ex-lunch sack plummeted to the cockpit floor and sprayed everywhere. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t sit upright and I didn’t think it could get any worse.

I was wrong. Since I was bent forward, my skull was actually in the way of the stick. My pilot, engrossed in the air combat, didn’t know of my predicament and I sure wasn’t going to mention it to him! Instead, realizing he wasn’t getting full aft movement from the stick, he kept trying to brute force it back. My face repeatedly kept that from happening.

So here I am, sick, unable to sit up, stepping in goo, and getting beaten up by the jet. I finally admitted to God that I was ready to give up. I began praying for the gas gauge to sink to “bingo” level so we could go home. Finally, thankfully, enough go-juice converted from liquid into noise and thrust and we could go home.

We rejoined, entered the pattern for the break to landing, touched down, and wound up back in the chocks. As the engines unspooled and we raised the canopy, the crew chief recoiled from my appearance and the aroma wafting from the cockpit floor. Ducking back down the ladder, he reappeared with a bucket of soapy water and a sponge.

I, with as much dignity as I could muster, cleaned up his jet before climbing down.

At the debrief, I didn’t contribute much. Following the discussion of what went right and what went wrong on our mission and how we could fix any weak areas on the next go, I still had one more task to perform. I stopped by the base Class Six (liquor) store and purchased a six-pack of malted beverage for the crew chief. I delivered it to him back at the jet where he was still hard at work getting it ready for its next go. He accepted my offering gracefully and I was finally done with my foray into “wanna be.”

I did get my ride and go fast. I did get to experience a touch of the modern fighter pilot’s environment. I’m a much better controller than a stickboy. I have never flown in a fighter again.

[Guest momann]

Hey brickhistory, you got me laughing so hard, I almost passed out on my office floor.

Incredible story. Classic.

OH! I got none that can top brickhistory's.

[Toasty]

I don't think any story has topped Rainman's post in this thread

(Put a direct link in for ya! Cheers! M2)

[Guest LocoF16]

I have puked in every airplane I've ever flown. During Tweets I went thru all the pain of the chair and was able to make it thru my very last flight before they started getting too concerned. That didn't mean I didn't stop getting sick, though. I got pretty good at holding it in until we got on the ground. I always had a barf bag in my leg pocket, so on more than one occasion I would get out of the Tweet, bend down on the left side where the IP couldn't see me, and let it out before it happened on the walk back or the ride in the crew bus. The ninja puker, yeah that's me...

[Rocker]

We were on a cross country recently and the first stop was Boise, ID. We went to Butte, MT first for some tac approaches (those guys are awesome there if you're ever looking for a good place to go XC - we've RON'ed there a few times before) and then departed to the west for about about a 1.5 hour low level to Boise. We're raging down these beautiful valleys on a crystal clear day, until finally the nav starts feeling terrible. So we knock it off, climb up a little and make things a little more gentle, continuing on our route. About a half hour later, he says "Hey I'm feeling a lot better - you guys want to get back into the low level?" And we say sure and drop back down. We're about 30 minutes out and pilot gives me the airplane (I'm copilot) to finish up the low level and get the landing at Boise. So nav is happy and healthy again, and even cracking a few jokes. Well here comes this PERFECT turn up ahead where the valley cuts to the right and then immediately hard back to the left, with terrain on both sides. I roll 60 degrees of bank into the first turn, pull to two Gs, hold it around the turn, unload, roll out, and right into a turn reversal to the left, 60 and 2. We roll out on the backside of the turns, and I ask "hey nav, what's our next heading?" Silence. Pilot looks back to the nav and he is frantically trying to find an empty puke bag, finds one, opens is up in time and fills it up to the top. Pilot laughs, and the nav says on interphone with a torn up raspy voice, "191, 24 miles, 4400 MSA, pilot, you've got the navigation." We all got a pretty good laugh out of that one. I bought him a couple of rounds that night in Boise as a token of apology.

I have been very lucky and never puked in any aircraft. I came close on my dollar ride in the T-6, and have felt less than outstanding on many occassions in the Herk (when having to ride in the back on a low level), but there's a first time for everything. I'm sure I'll never admit to it if it does happen.

[Bluto]

Not as good as Rainman's but I used to be part of the airborne fire team that escorted the convoys in Minot. We flew in the Huey's up there and it was my first convoy as the Charlie fire team leader. My M-60 gunner wasn't feeling all that well that morning so we told the pilots to try and keep it nice and level. Well during the escort we noticed a moose in the open which I thought was rare in that area. The pilots decided to bank it up and circle around the moose real quick which caught the gunner off guard. Well he didn't have time to grab a bag and he puked all over the passenger area. Unfortunately we couldn't land or return to base until the convoy was secured so it was a long flight!

[FallingOsh]

he horked into his mask then mucked it back down so as to avoid being washed out...total dedication.

We actually did have a guy wash out of Tweets for airsickness. They told us it was damn near impossible, but he did it. He puked on 11 of 12 flights and 5 of 7 chair rides. The kid obviously had more heart than most because he stuck it out until there weren't any options left. He was skinny to begin with and still lost over 15 pounds before he left. I always felt bad for him. The IPs took it as easy as they could but the syllabus would eventually demand a stab demo or G-ex attempt. It was a real accomplishment the first time he only filled up one bag. I don't think there's ever been someone so happy to wash out.

[Guest BenignLurker]

OMG, this thread is both gross and hilarious all at the same time. I think its my favorite thread

[SCRIMP]

There are two guys at VN right now that washed out from airsickness. They did the same thing mentioned above. They even went down to do some fancy air sickness deal at EN. These guys have plenty of heart too. I think the each lost 15 pounds if I remember corrrectly.

[Clayton Bigsby]

Anybody have a link to that old C-130 puke story out of Al Udeid? You know, the one where ATOC comes out to the airplane and cites the AC for a safety violation, since none of his evacuated pax have disco belts on. It used to be in the old Al Udeid bitching thread at the old message board, but the link to that thread doesn't work anymore.

[Toro]

Anybody have a link to that old C-130 puke story out of Al Udeid?

Here you go.

Great story - I'd say it ties Rainman's.

[Guest awfltdoc]

Sorry if I missed this if it was previously posted, but I found this else where and thought I would have to share this gem. Clip of girl barfing in bag at zero G.

http://www.break.com/index/barf-bags-dont-work-at-0-gs.html

Edited November 29, 2007 by awfltdoc

[HerkDerka]

That video was tasteless, disgusting, and offensive.....I loved it.

HD

[afthunderchief16]

Me and my buddies got the chance to go down to Luke to sandbag some rides in Vipers and my buddy and I got lucky enough to bag some night rides doing pretty basic range work with NVGs and all that good stuff. The pilots made sure to tell us to eat before we go so my buddy being the genius that he is decided to go to Subway and get a foot long loaded with everything you can think of about an hour before we stepped. 15 min in to the flight, straight and level, he probably got disorientated by the NVGs or something but he yaks it all up. He was smart enough to keep a puke bag close to him in the belly of his G-suit, but the retard put it in upside down. He pulls it out to try and utilize it only to puke all over his front side, in his mask, all over his gear and the seat. Went the rest of the flight, didn't tell the pilot and didn't even tell the crew chief once they got back. The next morning we showed up for the brief for our next flight (after enough crew rest of course...) and the whole squadron just about wanted to kick his a$$, especially the life support folks when he turned his gear back in. Priceless.

[afthunderchief16]

My buddy just notified me that this story is erroneous, but I think that he has just blocked all fo the good details from his memory... I was lucky enough to have to stay in the same room that night...

[Guest sharkfood911]

My buddy just notified me that this story is erroneous, but I think that he has just blocked all fo the good details from his memory... I was lucky enough to have to stay in the same room that night...

He couldn't hide the smell though. Was banned from the SQ as soon as they got back and had to wait outside for his ride to show up. Then he had to Febreeze the shit out of it for the next day so he wasn't (as much of) a walking biohazard. I'm probably forgetting more of the story, Brabus or Bucky might remember more. Classic.

[Guest LtLoad]

My crew had the pleasure of picking up Joan Jett and her roadies and taking them to their next stop for her USO show. Joan has lead a hard life, but her roadies seemed to have had it even worse. They looked like a band of homeless guys. Anyways their drug addled bodies didn't handle the smooth ride of the mighty herk and a couple of them lost it in the back. Now they wouldn't win any awards on volume, but they were the worst I've seen in terms of toxicity and grossness. I swear you could have found needles and crack pipes if you had looked hard enough. One guy through up right next to the wheel wells, which is a nightmare to clean. When they were deplaning, in a final act of courtesy one guy through up on my loading ramps.

I did have a chance to mack on Joan Jett though. Word.

[outbreak]

Never puked in an aircraft before. Spin training turned me green but straight and level made me better. Drinking, however, occasionally does the trick. I've gotten pretty good at regulating it but every once in a while the booze get the best of me. On my break between comissioning and EAD I was home in MD for a few days. A friend needed a couch moved out to his apartment in Morgantown, WV. I have a truck. Perfect excuse for a weekend of drunken shenanigans. We get the couch out of the truck and moved in by about 2pm and immediately start drinking. around 9pm me, him and his smokin hot neighbor start walking to the bars. We get to some 2 level bar and go upstairs. its a slow night so only 1 of the three available bars is actually manned and serving. We set up shop at one of the empty ones. This bar had a 2 for 1 deal going till 11 so we stocked up. 3 people and about 12 beers getting warm and we're already wasted. I take a drink and i get that half gag feeling you get from warm beer and think "oh crap. here it comes." I've never been to this establishment before so i have no idea where the can is. I decide to stand at the abandoned bar and tough it out. my eyes are watering, i'm starting to sweat and here it comes. projectile vomiting directly across the bar. It had so much power behind it that it barely touched the surface. the aftershocks went on the floor. once i was done, i wiped my mouth, found the bathroom to clean up, and rallied like a champ. my friends found me a few minutes later at the active bar ordering up another round. They pointed out some poor barback mopping up behind my target, and looking puzzled as to how it got there. I just laughed.

[booze]

between comissioning and EAD

i get that half gag feeling

oh crap. here it comes

once i was done, i wiped my mouth, found the bathroom to clean up,

dude, gross...

[Guest echofox]

On a UH-60 ride, the Army crew chief says "anyone who barfs in this aircraft (or whatever he referred to it is) is hosing this sumbitch out". Sure enough 5 minutes after takeoff, the dude across from me looks pretty bad. About a minute later, his cheeks puff out like he has about 3 pounds of mashed potatoes in there and his eyes get wide like silver dollars. Everyone in my side of the aircraft is grimacing cause we don't know if he's going to spew all over us or what. The guys next to him keep motioning for him to let it all out down his shirt or in his hat or something. He doesn't want to. By this time, the crew chief sees what is going on and just loses it. He tells the pilots what is going on and I see both of them turn around and bust out laughing. By this time, its pretty commical for everyone except puke cheeks. We go on flying that flight for another half hour, doing some pretty cool maneuvers and such. The whole time the crew is having a ball. We land and the dude is already unstrapped and runs out the door and barfs all over the ramp.

[afnav]

These are some pretty good stories.

I was doing an FTU sortie in the BUFF. The student nav didn't have a radar, so I was sitting in the seat instead of back next to the pisser. He did pretty good until we got back to the pattern. We had just made our first TNG, and were climbing out. He called the downwind speed, but then went quiet. I looked over, and he had puked ALL OVER his panel and himself. We are talking at least three to four square feet of puke. I asked the pilots to extend, and immediately sent him upstairs to sit in the IP seat. Better them than me...

I rode down there with his puke for another 30 minutes, mask up.

With them not doing low level anymore, pattern projectile vomit is about as exciting as it gets now.

[Guest ASUcadet]

Me and my buddies got the chance to go down to Luke to sandbag some rides in Vipers and my buddy and I got lucky enough to bag some night rides doing pretty basic range work with NVGs and all that good stuff. The pilots made sure to tell us to eat before we go so my buddy being the genius that he is decided to go to Subway and get a foot long loaded with everything you can think of about an hour before we stepped. 15 min in to the flight, straight and level, he probably got disorientated by the NVGs or something but he yaks it all up. He was smart enough to keep a puke bag close to him in the belly of his G-suit, but the retard put it in upside down. He pulls it out to try and utilize it only to puke all over his front side, in his mask, all over his gear and the seat. Went the rest of the flight, didn't tell the pilot and didn't even tell the crew chief once they got back. The next morning we showed up for the brief for our next flight (after enough crew rest of course...) and the whole squadron just about wanted to kick his a$$, especially the life support folks when he turned his gear back in. Priceless.

Wow, that explains why Life Support asked me like five times if I puked in/on any of their equipment when I got a Fam Flight at Luke. They were so serious about it that I decided not to joke around with them ("yeah, I puked in my helmet bag... is that bad?")

[Guest F16crewdwgg]

Going through some old pictures from UPT (yes we had cameras back then), and I was reminded of a dude in my class who was on the verge of washing out for air sickness. On one flight he horked into his mask then mucked it back down so as to avoid being washed out...total dedication.

Anyone else have some good puke stories? Just to set the right tone, please enjoy this clip from a Swedish game show...

I remember a cadet Sh!t his pants in the F-16. The pilot and cadet came down the taxi way with the canopy open.. lol

[afthunderchief16]

Wow, that explains why Life Support asked me like five times if I puked in/on any of their equipment when I got a Fam Flight at Luke. They were so serious about it that I decided not to joke around with them ("yeah, I puked in my helmet bag... is that bad?")

Ha, most of them are really cool, but a few of them will straight kick your a$$ if you mess with them or their equiptment. The nice ones might let you keep some of the gear (within reason, i.e. gloves, etc) others may make you clean it with alcohol swabs just to make you watch them throw it away in front of you afterwards