Excerpt from the "Yellow Sheet"

OV-10's of VMO-2.

In May of 1973, VMO-2 received a visit from the distinguished pilot, R.A. "Bob" Hoover. He was headed for the Paris Air Show, where he was to demo North American/Rockwell aircraft, the OV-10 among them. He hadn't flown one in over five years, so he stopped by Camp Pendleton for several refresher hops. As I recall, his first flight was with our skipper, LtCol Jim Farber. I, then being a Captain, was to take the second hop, and 1stLt "Rock" Davis was to take the third (sadly, Rock later died after a crash in one of the early Harriers).

As a maintenance test pilot, QA (Quality Assurance) Officer, and having almost 1,000 hours in the Bronco, I felt I knew the ship fairly well. Nevertheless, the prospect of flying with the renowned Bob Hoover was both exhilarating and a bit intimidating. During our pre-flight briefing, Mr. Hoover inquired if it would be OK to perform a "dirty" roll on takeoff (the aircraft would do a barrel roll immediately after becoming airborne with gear and flaps extended-a very dangerous manuever). Now, I knew that our squadron's aircraft, while mechanically sound, were tired Vietnam vets, and hardly the kind of shiny, finely-tuned, factory-fresh Bronco he'd flown years before. However, my admiration for Hoover, combined with my ego, overruled my better judgement, so off we went.

Apparently, someone who overheard our briefing put the word out about our intentions, and by the time we'd taxied out, the entire airfield ramp was filled with spectators. Hoover's instructions to me (in the back seat) were to keep my feet flat on the floor, legs spread apart, hands on my knees, and just watch-I was now thinking, "what in the hell have I gotten myself into?" We roared down the runway, Hoover holding the plane down until the nosewheel shimmied so badly I thought it was going to come off. The entire plane was shaking as we passed 110 knots. He simultaneously popped the flaps and hauled the stick back as we lept into the air. He manipulated the flight controls so rapidly that I could only describe it as "wiping out the cockpit." We did a complete roll that seemed to take forever, then went on our way, my heart firmly implanted in my throat. No doubt that some of the more ghoulish spectators returned to their workspaces a bit disappointed.

In the days that followed, I attempted to repeat this remarkable event. I figured if that old geezer could do it, then a proficient young stud such as myself could, too. Just to be safe, however, I set a hard altitude of 3,000 feet from which to commence my "takeoff." I "crashed" at least five times before I was successful, and vowed never to try it on a real runway.

Over the intervening years, I've encountered Hoover several times, and we always have a good chuckle about how he scared the living bejeebers out of me.

This article appeared in the MCAA Yellow Sheet Magazine as submitted by:
Gordy "Hostage Bear" Evans