My Tryst with HT-2 Aircraft: The Day God Flew With Me

 My previous story titled “The day I flew my dad’s Car” started with the sentence “It was the year of the lord……..” Well this one is also form the same year of the lord. It seems that 1979 was a very eventful year. It was eventful indeed, as this was the year when I started flying (or rather started learning how to fly), this was the year I earned my Wings and also got commissioned in the Indian Air Force. These events changed my life, making the next forty years most enjoyable ones.

 

 

This story is about my tryst with the HT-2 aircraft (I always lovingly called it Dalda Tin aircraft). Well that was the first impression one got on seeing it. But looks can be deceptive and in this case it was true. HT – 2 (Hindustan Trainer – 2) was one lean mean flying machine. This machine had deflated the ego of many an ace pilots by rubbing their nose into the dirt or by giving them a swinging  time (literally). HT-2 was a very simple machine with mechanical controls but a complex one to control. The machine seemed to have a mind of its own and reminded one of bronc riding rodeo. It is said that if one can drive on Indian roads, he or she can drive anywhere in the world. Similar thing can be said about HT-2, if you can fly the HT-2, you can fly any aircraft in the world.

The ultimate manoeuvres in this aircraft were slow roll (especially to the right) and stall turn. These manoeuvres required highest degree of psychomotor skills and limb coordination (all four). Landing this aircraft was another challenging task (equivalent to an emergency situation) every time. One wrong input of rudder and the aircraft would swing like a dog chasing its own tail. The swing would stop in any direction, from a choice of 360 degrees (of course, as decided by the aircraft). There have been many incidents when pilots have initiated a take-off or roller take-off from one runway but got airborne on another one.

 

Another peculiar feature of the aircraft was that one could open the canopy in the air (to get much needed fresh air). One of the checks on downwind leg of circuit flying, before landing was canopy open and locked. Invariably most of the rookie trainee pilots would end up calling out canopy open and closed (actually opening and closing it instead of leaving it open).

 

So it all began in January of 1979 when sixty seven of us reached Bidar to try our hands at HT-2. Those days there were no modern training aids and simulators. The instructors would use their ingenuity to find means to drill home a point. The flight complex often looked like a zoo with all of us trainee pilots like monkeys all over the roof, trees, and verandas. The ones on the tree or roof would be assessing the round off height sitting there with imaginary throttle and stick in their hands. Few of us would be sitting on chair calling out checks and procedures (including calling out Canopy open and locked). There would be some walking with spread legs straddling a chalk drawn white line on the ground, learning the importance of maintaining the centre line on runway during take-off and landing. The landing was practiced by simulating stick movement back in stages, accompanied with chanting “Sink Check, Sink Check” or “Raja Ram, Sita Ram”. A book can be written about these ingenious ways of teaching.

 

HT-2 did not have an ejection seat or built in parachute. Parachute had to be strapped up before getting into the aircraft. With the parachute pack strapped to the bottom, one would resemble a waddling duck. The aircraft had no seat adjustment (nowadays even the cars have a three dimensional electrical seat adjustment) and one would have to carry cushions to get the right posture and sitting height. A short person like me needed three cushions while flying from the front and four cushions from the rear seat. I remember during the tenure as FIS Staff, I ended up with a pupil who was almost the same height as me. Between the two of us we would use up seven to eight cushions. Our top priority after the briefing used to be to rush and get hold of all the cushions. After a few days, not only was he given a change of instructor but change of squadron so that the two of us do not fly HT-2 at the same time.

 

 

It was a bright sunny day in the month of January when I strapped on the parachute and was waddling towards the HT-2 with the swag of a rodeo, when a voice boomed from behind “Shorty come here”. It was the Chief Flying Instructor (he looked menacing with his bushy moustache, but was a gentle soul). From his stare it was evident that he was measuring my height. He wanted to know if I was medically cleared to fly. Well my reply of “Sir, Nobody has said No” didn’t impress him and he asked me to report to (SMO) senior medical officer for clearance. So my first attempt to fly ended without even reaching the aircraft.

 

There went my aviation dream in thin smoke. Well events took a different turn and two of us (another course mate of mine Ravi Kumar) with same height landed up in IAM (Institute of Aviation Medicine) in Bangalore. We spent a long time without any decision on our case. The two of us mastered the game of flicking matchbox into a glass (we would have surely made it to the Indian team if the event had been included in the Olympics). To cut the long story short, finally we got cleared (Our leg length saved us) and started flying almost three months later.

 

I was lucky to get a very experienced and supporting Instructor, who assured me that he will finish the flying syllabus on time provided I had the will and stamina and coped up with the progress. Pact was for me to manage an aircraft and he would never refuse a sortie. He lived up to his promise and the time started flying along with the flying training. Soon the much awaited and exciting moment arrived. The moment which all aspiring aviators dream about i.e. going solo. My solo check was done by CFI (The one with bushy moustache and doubts about my fitness to fly). Towards the end of the sortie he asked me “अबे गीठे जहाज वापिस ले आएगा?” (Shorty will you bring back the aircraft). On 22 Mar 79, I flew solo first time in my life in aircraft number 759. The flight was for 15 minutes but the confidence boosting effect was lifelong.

 

Next day on 23 Mar 79, was the fateful day of second solo check. Although total flying experience was limited to ten odd sorties, but the confidence level was high after having flown first solo on previous day. Like peculiar traits of each horse in NDA, the aircraft also had a reputation of their own. Aircraft number was 746 and the solo check was less melodramatic. Runway in use was 20 with left hand circuit pattern. The sortie profile included circuit approach and overshoot followed by another one to land.

 

 

I lined up on the runway after having carried out vital actions before take-off, unaware of what was in store for me. The take-off was normal and I initiated a turn to the left with left aileron and a touch of left rudder to keep the TSI ball in the center. Having established in a balanced turn, I became bold enough to look down towards the ground. The path would have been over the class room, where some of the course mates would be attending the classes. Hoping it to be break time, so as to catch attention of some of them outside the class and maybe wave at them. That is when the hell broke loose.

 

The aircraft started vibrating, as if someone had caught hold of it in mid-air and was shaking it. My first reaction was that instructor after the solo check had not got off, and was shaking the aircraft to indicate to me to concentrate on flying rather than monkeying around. Instinctive reaction was to throttle back and on throttling back the vibrations reduced momentarily. However, in the process, I forgot to apply the rudder to counter the yaw. As a result the aircraft yawed and rolled to the left ending up with a nose down attitude on reciprocal heading with runway 02 in front. The ATC having realised something was wrong asked if operations were normal. It crossed my mind that they ought to be joking asking about ops normal, while I was almost getting thrown out of the aircraft (Canopy was still open). I stammered that experiencing severe vibrations and am landing on runway 02. Negative came the reply form the Duty QFI, make an approach for cross runway 26.

 

My forced landing plans were outright vetoed and I initiated a turn to the right to head towards downwind of runway 26. On opening throttle the aircraft started vibrating and shaking even more vigorously than before. The throttle had to be brought back to almost idling position. Two thoughts that came to mind were that firstly I will never be able to reach runway 26 and second that even if I am able to land the aircraft will mow down the workers working beyond the middle marker on runway. The path chosen by me (rather chosen by the aircraft) was directly above the line of aircraft parked on the tarmac. I could read the aircraft numbers and clearly make out the surprised look on the faces of airmen looking towards me, realising things were not normal (Some of them must be planning the shortest route to the probable crash site).

 

The ordeal must have lasted a couple of minutes, but the speed at which the mind was racing, it seemed like hours. The masjid was also visible to the right, location of पाप नाश temple and नानक झिरा Gurudwara were known,  but there was no time to pray. Now the aircraft gliding without power was heading towards a point on the approach path, pointing towards the fuel storage area. The thought of going down on the fuel storage tanks was not very pleasant or comforting. Lot of radio chatter was going on but the mind was blank towards it or rather very selective in absorbing or responding to relevant ones. I remember someone shouting “all aircraft to maintain silence”, then the call from duty QFI “lower full flaps”. This is the point I think when God took over. I replied back “Negative”.

 

By this time aircraft was quite low and turn onto finals was more than ninety degrees. I initiated a turn to the left and god made the aircraft roll out on finals along the centre line, lowered full flaps and initiated the round off. On short finals the propeller stopped rotating (later in life I came across a funny quote about pilot sweating when the fan in front stops – did not seem funny at all). The aircraft landed and seeing the work going on the runway I sat on the brakes resulting in the aircraft stopping well short of them. Before I could blink my eyes, the aircraft was surrounded by vehicles and all the who’s who of the station. I was literally pulled out of the aircraft and my legs were shaking like a dry leaf. I was told that the landing was perfect (one of the few out of hundreds of landings).

 

As luck would have it I ended up flying this challenging machine during three tenures. First tenure being as a cadet learning how to fly, second one as a young pilot learning how to become an instructor (flying instructors course) and third one as staff pilot at Flying Instructors School, teaching young pilots how to become an instructor. First tenure as a cadet was rewarded with a commendation, second one as under trainee QFI (Qualified Flying Instructor) with Majithia Trophy for standing first in the order of merit and the third one with written warning (My First of the collection) for taxying fast on HT-2 aircraft.

 

HT-2 was an Indian two-seat primary trainer designed and built by Hindustan Aeronautics Limited (HAL). It was powered by a 155 hp (116 kW) Cirrus Major III piston engine. Investigations revealed that in my case the aircraft engine had developed holes in the combustion chambers. There were couple of more cases of engine failure and the engine was replaced with Lycoming engine (aircraft renamed as HT-2L). However the new engine also had problems and the aircraft was retired in 1990.

 

The forced landing got me a commendation by AOC-in-C training command (not heard of any cadet getting it before or after). The thought of those few minutes still sends a shiver up my spine.

 

I am sure God was flying besides me on that fateful day.

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