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I Crashed Bu.No.85836 and Lived to Tell About It
"It was a
memorable flight, for me, on 10 June, 1984. I departed
from Brockway Airstrip at about 5:15 am. It was a murky
and humid kind of a morning as I was flying a TBM-3E as
the lead of "Brandy" section on a two plane
spray formation. On the second spray turn recovery, as I
lined up on the Cessna "pointer" plane to start
the next line, I suddenly became aware that a tall and
gnarled old pine tree, which protruded from the canopy of
the foliage, was right in front of me. I was so close
that evasive action was impossible.
With an enormous metallic bang I hit it
with the port wing. Control immediately deteriorated and
I descended to the left, with full right aileron, full up
elevator and full right rudder. I started through the
tree tops with the propeller cutting and snapping trees
as the engine laboured then gave up. The TBM was a rugged
airplane and would usually allow the pilot to survive
provided that some control was retained. If you were out
of control, as I was, then your chance for survival
became somewhat remote. I knew that I'd had it and that I
was about to solve the great mystery of life. My
perception of time was distorted and what was only a few
seconds gave me time to ponder. First of all, I felt
anger and denial. I had always thought that I might have
an engine quit on me, someday, but not this. Then I was
sad because I was going to die. It occurred to me that
maybe I'd be reincarnated. Then I made my peace and I was
ready. I thought, briefly, of how an old sled dog that
I'd seen in Northern Saskatchewan must have felt. He'd
outlived his usefulness and was about to be shot by a
trapper. The dog seemed to know what was coming next as
the rifle barrel was pointed at his head and he winced.
So did I. The plane rolled to the left and pitched down
for the impact. The ground yielded and the stricken plane
cartwheeled. I was thrashed around the cockpit like a rag
doll. The engine broke away and the wings were torn off
and as the tail snapped off, the right rudder pedal
smashed the sole of my boot and I could feel the bones in
my ankle break.
I didn't care for I
thought that I was to die. Suddenly the motion stopped
and against the odds, I had survived the impact. I opened
my eyes to find what was left of the plane's nose pointed
skyward. Oil and insecticide dripped onto my face and I
was being sprayed with a mist of 100/130 octane aviation
fuel from the centre tank. I then thought that my fate
was to be burnt to a cinder and I didn't struggle. After
a few moments, I realised that the wreckage wasn't going
to explode and that I had a chance to escape. I opened
the canopy and took a look around.
I undid the harness and executed a
partially controlled fall in which I landed like a sack
of potatoes. I stood up and doffed my parachute and
helmet and tried to walk away but my right leg and ankle
were smashed so I crawled a safe distance away but not
before noting the time down like a good pilot. As I
waited, propped up on a tree stump, in the swampy ground
with a cloud of mosquitoes and blackflies feasting on me,
I realised that I ought to try and attract the attention
of the pointer plane so I cast an eye skyward and took
off my jacket to use as a flag. I felt an heightened
awareness of my senses and drank in the feeling of all
the living things around me and savoured them. My music
was the sound of the breeze in the trees and the rustle
of the leaves while birds sang. There, I was being hanged
and the rope had parted. Soon I was spotted by a pointer
who orbited the crash site, and before long I heard the
staccato sound of an helicopter as it neared. The medic
rappelled from the hovering machine to administer first
aid and keep me company until a rescue team eventually
made their way to us through thick brush. I was removed
to a clearing some distance away, which would accomodate
the landed helicopter, loaded on board and whisked away
to Fredericton for treatment of my injuries.
Appropriately, I'll quote a Second World War Royal
Canadian Air Force Bomb Aimer, I once met, who summed up
his own terrifying experiences simply by saying:
`It was quite an experience, one which I wouldn't care to repeat, nor would I recommend it to others...'"
......"Lucky to be alive"