Death of a Shark

Here’s the Russian article I said I was translating, together with some preceeding commentary.

“Death of a Shark” and VVS Operational Standards
Article by V. Markovskii,
translation and commentary by George Mellinger, Twin Cities Aero Historians

“Crashes will continue to be frequent so long as you require us to fly in coffins.” – Lt. Gen. Pavel Rychagov, Commander of the VVS-RKKA to Iosif Stalin in early 1940 at a conference called to discuss the Air Force’s excessive accident rate. (Rychagov was arrested June 24, 1941 and executed without trial, October 28, 1941)

There remains much speculation about the current state of the Russian Air Force, particularly regarding the capabilities and training of its pilots, and its implications for readiness. For reasons that are evident, there have been few, if any, Russian official pronouncements on this topic and virtually no hard statistics. Most of the information remains anecdotal. On my visits to Russia, when inquiring about pilot flying hours, I have generally heard the figures of an “average of 40 hours a year” and/or 20 hours a year quoted. This has been the case from the mid-1990s to the present. Reasons include a shortage of fuel, lack of funds for maintenance and operating expenses, lack of new equipment, and even lack of spare and regalement parts for older aircraft, in spite of the numerous examples which ought to be available for cannibalization. Of course this average figure needs interpretation, since it involves the entire VVS establishment. Ignoring a couple of special situations for a moment, let us reason out some distinctions. First, the transport pilots of the 61 Air Army, the former VTA, are known to fly far more than their share of the average. In contrast to the combat aircraft, their Ilyushins and Antonovs can provide considerable support to the civilian economy, and in doing so, bring in some revenue for the VVS. Also, by very nature, almost every and any flight is bound to consume multiple flying hours, times two pilots. Next come the pilots of Long Range Aviation in the 37 Air Army. While a small proportion of the VVS resources, they also receive a middling share of the flying hours, since their flights, too, tend to be long duration and also contribute flying hours for two pilots per flight. With these pilots tending to raise the averages, it is obvious that the pilots of the fighters and tactical aircraft must be getting less than the average.
There are two exceptional situations. First, the pilots of the 237 Guards Regiment at Kubinka undoubtedly get a lot of flying time. They are the show and demonstration regiment, including the Russkie Vityazy (Su-27) and Strizhi (MiG-29) aerobatics teams. They perform at all the major air shows and serve as a facade of prestige for the VVS, Russia itself, and most important of all, the Russian aviation industry (along with the famous factory test and show pilots such as Pugachyov, Frolov, Menitskii, Kvotchur, etc., whose flying hours probably are logged to the factories rather than any VVS totals), which hopes to make money selling airplanes abroad. Second, we must presume that the units of the 4 Air Army taking part in combat operations over Chechnya and the other North Caucasus hot spots also do quite a bit of regular flying. So this must serve to reduce even further the average flying hours of the ordinary tactical units based in quiet zones like northern and central Russia, and Far East. Though precision is impossible, they must get very few flight hours a year. In such a situation we may also tentatively presume that within the regiments these flight hours are not communistically shared. Such flying as is done is almost certainly parceled out to a few selected senior pilots, those in positions of command or who had managed to obtain their Pilot 1st Class ratings before the implosion. (This is probably true to an extent for the North Caucasian combat units as well.) Therefore, we can guess that for the ordinary line pilot, his main opportunity to fly will come, briefly, whenever he falls off of a footstool.
Complicating matters is the aging and worn condition of much of the VVS inventory. Though the earlier generations single-engine MiGs and Sukhois have all been retired, even the MiG-29s are now approaching or exceeding the twenty-year mark, and even with careful maintenance, must become increasingly prone to developing problems, and with serious budget problems, maintenance is almost certainly one of the first places for economizing. Thus this combination of old aircraft, and sporadic maintenance must be an even greater potential challenge for rusty pilots.
I recently found circumstantial confirmation in the following article which I have translated The article reports an incident at the 120 IAP based in Domna in the Transbaikal Military District. The 120 IAP (sometimes identified as the 120 Guards IAP – Russians have become careless about the distinction) flew the MiG-23 in Afghanistan and claimed several aerial kills against infiltrating Iranian helicopters. They also became famous for painting sharkmouths and individual side art on their fighters, first the MiG-23 and after their return home and re-equipment, the MiG-29. At the time of the Soviet collapse, the 120 GIAP was probably amongst the best units, in the VVS, with some of the best morale. Markovskii, the author, served with the 120 GIAP in Afghanistan and has written before about this unit, and about Soviet air operations in Afghanistan.
This translation was personally difficult due to the presence of numerous technical words unknown either to me or to my dictionaries. In truth, as a non-mechanic, I would have found some passages scarcely more clear even if in English. So the mechanical passages in the translation should be read with caution. Technical analysts will be justifiably disappointed, but I still believe that even with some inaccuracies, this document contains a number of indications about the general state of the VVS and its pilots.

“On the Trail of Aviation Incidents: Death of a Shark”
by Viktor Markovskii, Aviamaster 5-2001

The share of aviation incidents which are the fault of equipment construction defects appears very small, accounting for about 10-15% of aviation accidents and catastrophes. (According to Russian definition an avariya is a non-fatal accident, while a katastrofa involves fatalities-GMM). The great mass are attributed to pilot error and violations of flight parameters – the notorious human factor which remains the weakest link, accounting for up to 70% of all incidents. The very same advanced aviation technology which provides the most technically advanced features, redundant systems and advanced controls, also minimizes the possibility of sudden failures.
And still sometimes even aircraft of the latest generation present dangerous surprises, previously undiscovered defects which reveal themselves at the most inopportune time. To this last category belongs a MiG-29 catastrophe which occurred in the fall of 1998 in the Transbaikal.
In the 23 VA (Air Army) of the Transbaikal Military District, during the preceding five years eight aircraft and helicopters have been destroyed in accidents and catastrophes. This quantity appears quite moderate against the background of the previous period. But now, in connection with a decrease to 15-20 flying hours pe year, the figure becomes entirely more notable. Even more, three of the eight losses fell to the lot of a single regiment, the 120 IAP at Domna, equipped with the MiG-29 and providing air defense for a wide segment of the Russian-Chinese border.
By September 1998 the regiment had already been operating the MiG-29 for five years, and was on operational duty on the rolls of the 50 Guards Independent Corps VVS i PVO. The aircraft were MiG-29 izdelie 9-12 and 9-13 (Fulcrum-A & Fulcrum-C, “fatback”-GMM), most of which had been received from other units, having already served successfully, and the flying personnel were well accustomed to them. During the entire period of service not one MiG-29 had been written off on account of damage or irremediable defects.
One such machine was Aircraft No 36, which a half year before this incident had been transferred from the Far Eastern airbase of Orlovka. The aircraft was not new. MAPO had built it 17 years before, in September 1983. (If this incident is placed to 1998, then an aircraft built in 1983 would have been only 15 and not 17 years old. Which of Markovskii’s figures is wrong, I do not know.-GMM) The aircraft had flown 585 hours and undergone midterm overhaul at the Kubinka ARP. Taken off the register of its regiment, for a long time the aircraft sat in storage, and after three years was delivered to Domna.
On September 25, the regiment was conducting planned flights. After a long interval fuel finally appeared and after three months in a row of inactivity, the pilots were using any opportunity to take to the sky. Military Pilot 3rd Class, Captain Vladimir Egorov was scheduled to execute the exercise “Flight to accelerate to supersonic speed and ceiling of the aircraft”. the assignment was of short duration and not complicated, even considering the little experience of the pilot in controlling the MiG-29.
The well-known poverty degrading our aviation in the 1990s (absence of fuel, money, and spare parts), led to the situation that during the last five and a half years Egorov had only flown a total of 74 hours, averaging out to a little more than an hour a month in the cabin. During the first months of 1998 he had managed to “grab” only 20 minutes of flying time. The pilot clearly was unable to train, even on the KTS-4 simulator which was standing, as the inspection report discovered “in inoperable condition due to lack of funding to call for a manufacturer’s representative”.
Aircraft No 36 was prepared without anything notable. The engine was tested and all preflight procedures were completed, and the pilot took to the air at 19 hours 13 minutes. The air was clear, the sun was only beginning to set in the west, and the aircraft had not managed to vanish from view, when there was a change to the smokey trail characteristic of the RD-33 working to maximum. At that very moment neither the mechanics of the newly launched aircraft nor the flight operations officer paid this any attention (if they had noticed, they could have decided that the pilot should simply turn back).
During the second minute of flight the pilot noticed that the machine began to gain altitude less energetically and speed began to fall. The aircraft lowered its nose, but speed continued to fall. The reason turned out to be the turbine revolutions of the left engine, and the controls for it were switched to the reserve system, although the temperature, according to the instruments, remained normal. None the less, the eight tons of thrust remained sufficient to gain another 600 m of altitude. Acting according to the instructions and commands of the flight operations officer, Egorov reduced the turbine revolutions of the misbehaving engine and began to turn back in the direction of the aerodrome.
But the problems grew. The turbine speed of the left RD-33 not responding to the thrust lever, continued to fall. A possible reason might have been either a failure of the electronic engine controls, or a rupture of the fuel supply. Neither the pilot nor the flight operations officer surmised that the situation had developed according to the second scenario, leading to an even worse situation. Already at take-off the fuel pipe had begun to rupture near the combustion chamber and then began to spray around a powerful stream of kerosene directly into the red hot engine. In just seconds a fire broke out, fanned by the rushing air and the spray of highly inflammable fuel. The Duralumin blazed, the control cable burned through, and even the fire resistant steel body of the engine combustion chamber burned.
But the pilot still remained unaware – the right engine worked normally and the temperature gauge showed “normal”, and the fire alarm was silent. On early series MiG-29s the fire alarm was not distinguished for its reliability, and on this occasion it simply did not work. The pilot did not know until the very last moment what was going on behind his back – in his transmissions there was heard not one word about fire!
And if the fire alarm remained silent, so too, the fire extinguisher system failed to work. None the less it would not have been within its power to cope with the volcano erupting in the engine bay. Only a few seconds were necessary for the flames to burn through the electrical cables and pipes including the steel armatures of the hydraulic system. At 3 minutes 24 seconds of flight, the hydraulic pipes under pressure ruptured, leading to the ruin of the main hydraulic system, about which the pilot, unaware of the fire situation reported “Main hydraulics system failed”.
Losing speed and altitude the airplane continued to struggle toward the airfield. It had managed to turn around and was already on a course for the runway. The flight operations officer gave it the shortest maneuvers onto the return course, not wasting a precious second with standard procedures. The pilot managed to report the falling pressure in the main hydraulic system, after which there was no further communication as he fought to control his machine. The control rods began to melt in the fire and soon the linkage to the left stabilizer burned through completely. The aircraft turned over on its left wing and fell into a spin. It began to fall out of control. The MiG-29 lost more than a thousand meters of altitude, but the pilot continued to try to control his machine.
It was already beyond hope. The machine tossed from side to side from the uncoordinated movements of the stabilizer surfaces (While the right stabilizer continued to function, the left was unresponsive, flapping like laundry in the wind. The remaining seconds and hundreds of meters of altitude were still sufficient to eject, but the strong lateral g-load deprived Egorov of his last chance of salvation. (Such g-loads are extremely dangerous, they negatively effect an organism and often lead to loss of consciousness.)
At 19 hours, 17 minutes the fighter disappeared from the radar screen. The entire flight of aircraft No 36 lasted barely more than four minutes. It did not take long to find the place of impact; the aircraft fell 9 km from the aerodrome. At impact the motors were driven into the earth and the pilot in the cabin was killed instantaneously. The steppe around the burning fighter was scattered with fragments and cannon shells.
After an accident, every effort is made to restore the data preserved on the aircraft’s “Tester-UZL” data recorder. From its recordings , in addition to flight parameters, it was possible to determine the meaning of the pressure on engine manifolds., and from this it was possible to establish the moment of the fatal rupture of the fuel line.
The commission which investigated the catastrophe had the services of the engineers and the NII operational and maintenance flight laboratory at Lyubertsy. The specialists gave particular attention to the fact that the cause of the catastrophe was an engine defect.
Yet one more serious defect was concealed in the fire warning system, which in the opinion of the commission did not meet the requirements of reliability for operating under high temperatures.
Not rarely through investigation of the causes of catastrophes, the blame rests on the deceased, but this time, again and again when evaluating the actions of the pilot during the short minutes of his flight, the commission found that there were no deficiencies or omissions. To the very end, Captain V. V. Egorov attempted to save his aircraft. He crashed with his field already in sight.

Georgii

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