HELLFIRE

The first test launch of a live, laser guided Hellfire missile happened at Eglin Air Force Base in 1980.  I had been working in the Laser department for about a year, on Laser Van III for about 6 months.  The test happened on Test Range 72, a large clearing cut from the forest of the Florida panhandle.  The range was about 10 miles long by two miles wide.  It was mostly shallow, brush covered hills crossed here and there by sandy, unpaved roads.

At one end, the northwest, there was a building called "The Blockhouse".  It was a reinforced concrete block structure, two stories tall.  There were no regular windows in it, just some almost wall sized periscope-like viewing ports in the second floor control room, providing a downrange view via some mirrors on the roof.  It would be the command center for the Hellfire test.

The scenario was this: It was to be a full battlefield type test, but with a few safeguards.  An Apache helicopter carrying one laser-guided Hellfire missile would hover at an altitude of less than 100 ft., over a helipad next to the blockhouse.  A second Apache helicopter carrying a target designating laser would hover about a mile to the right of the other helicopter and much higher.  A few miles downrange was an old APC (Armored Personnel Carrier), parked with it's left side facing the blockhouse.  The idea was that the second Apache helicopter would illuminate the target with it's laser beam, the first Apache helicopter would launch the missile, which would seek the bright spot of pulsating infrared laser light on the side of the APC, fly to the target, and destroy it in a spectacular explosion!

There were two reasons for Laser Van III to be there.  We could verify via our downrange sensors if and when the airborne laser was on target, how much energy it was delivering to the target, and whether or not the pulsed beam was correctly coded.  This information was received, decoded, and recorded by the equipment in the van.

The second reason was to provide a secondary, remotely controlled laser.  Depending on the position and field of view of a missile, sometimes the source of the laser light can appear as bright or brighter than the intended target.  This is big trouble for the guys in the helicopter with the laser!  In the unlikely event that the missile did seek that helicopter, the pilot was to immediately turn his laser OFF.  We would immediately turn our remote control emergency laser ON.  It was mounted on a tripod about 100 yds. from the target, ready to light up a bright, infrared KILL ME beacon on the side of the APC.  Hopefully this would draw the calculating attention of any wayward "smart" weapons.

Laser Van III was a fairly large truck, the Air Force called it a "2 and a half ton shop van".  It was an International Harvester, and it looked sort of like a delivery van for some meat packing company, but it had four wheel drive, a crew cab, and a big winch on the front.  Unlike most of the other Air Force vehicles at Eglin, which were painted a dull blue, Laser Van III was flat white, and it lacked the usual stenciled warning on the doors: "OFFICIAL US GOVERNMENT PROPERTY  PENALTY FOR PRIVATE USE..."  A large door on the right side opened into the van's 8 by 12 ft. equipment room, which contained a large console of various receivers, monitors, and recorders.  The top of the van bristled with communications antennae, two microwave feedhorns and a small satellite dish.

As always, we arrived several hours before the test in order to set up the van and the downrange equipment.  We always took turns working in the van and on the downrange crew.  This mission I was downrange.  The setup was typical: a laser, a laser spot tracker, a laser pulse detector, and an infrared video camera were all aimed at the target from about 100 yds. away.  A microwave transmitter sent all the data back to the van via an odd looking feedhorn mounted atop a 6 ft. high antenna mast.  The calibration procedures were always the same, it was just a matter of verifying that our laser and other downrange equipment worked properly and was transmitting data back to the van.  Inside the van, that data was recorded as it was received and then played back later for verification.  Unless there was some major malfunction with our equipment we always had plenty of time to kill before the mission actually began.

The blockhouse was buzzing with activity.  I had never seen so many people there.  There were lots of Air Force uniforms drifting around, the theodolite operators on the first floor were busily checking their equipment, and a few civilian "VIP's" were socializing with each other.  In addition to Laser van III, there was also a large van from Rockwell, the company that built the missile.  Their Hellfire van was a converted motor home with an impressive command center inside.  They were getting video from from the theodolites, from their own cameras, and a live feed from the Laser Van's downrange video camera, plus some downlinked data from the missile carrying helicopter.  The two helicopters had arrived, one was parked on the helipad and the other on an abandoned runway behind the blockhouse.

The helicopter on the pad had a bright, flourescent orange Hellfire missile mounted on the left side.  A Hellfire missile is a 5 ft. long solid fuel rocket, 7 inches in diameter, with a a laser seeker on the nose and a 20 lb. charge of high explosives just behind the seeker.  Obviously it's fast, powerful, and dangerous.

The range safety office had decreed that both the vans must be behind the blockhouse during the mission and that all personnel must be either in the blockhouse or in one of the vans.  NO ONE was to be outside when the missile was launched.  All of the radio antennae the Hellfire van used were set up on the roof of the blockhouse via long, heavy cables.  They had no problem with being behind the blockhouse.  Laser Van III, on the other hand, needed a clear line-of-sight to the target area because our microwave feedhorns couldn't be removed from the van.  An exception was made and we were allowed to park the Laser Van in such a way that it was "peeking" around the blockhouse.

Everything went according to schedule.  Both the helicopters took off and hovered appropriately.  The countdown blared through intercom speakers as the data recorders began to pull tape.  "ON MY MARK, 60 SECONDS TO LAUNCH... MARK!"

So there I was, cooped up in the Laser Van.  I had a good view of the target, at least as good as could be expected through an infrared video camera and a 9 inch black and white monitor.  What I really wanted to see was the one thing that almost no one there was actually going to see, the flight of the missile!  Since I was on the downrange crew that day there was really nothing for me to do inside the van.  The crew chief of Laser Van III was a guy named Steve, and he was as lighthearted and easy-going as anyone could hope for in a crew chief.  I asked him if it was alright with him if I went outside to watch the missile launch.  I reasoned with him: "Nobody will see me because nobody's gonna be out there!"  I got the expected response: "Don't get caught, if you do I didn't know you were there!"

"45 SECONDS TO LAUNCH... MARK!"  I was out the door and down the steps, around to the back of the van and then up the ladder onto the top.  Standing between the two feedhorns atop the van I tried to maintain the countdown in my head over the din of the helicopter hovering less than 100 yds. in front of me and slightly to the right.  A few seconds later an Air Force officer slipped out onto the second story fire escape on the blockhouse, looked around and saw me standing on the van!  After seeing that he and I were the only ones outside he looked back at me and rubbed his finger and thumb across his lips, as though zipping them closed.  I nodded and returned the zip lip.  Everything was still OK.

I lost track of the countdown.  I'd just have to be surprized.  Time slowed to a crawl.  Then someone pushed a button and time twisted and warped!

The launch was nothing like I had expected.  I hadn't been aware of the fact that a solid fuel rocket explodes more than it burns.  That it's really just exploding inside a strong container, and the only place for the explosive force to go is out that one hole at the back end of the rocket, so it can't explode QUITE as fast as it would otherwise.  But it is an EXPLOSION !

BANG!!!!!  The concussion just about knocked me down.  And it was over almost before it had begun.  If you're not a rocket scientist, accelleration is not a factor in the flight of a Hellfire missile.  As far as my senses could tell, the thing just instantly switched from complete motionlessness to full speed, which in this case was just short of mach 1.2.  The sonic boom smeared the sound of the initial explosion of the rocket engine into the shock of the armor piercing charge.

The missile travelled about 100 yds. and then made a rapid turn straight up!  It was obviously not paying any attention whatsoever to the laser, to any laser!  It then quickly turned back toward the helicopter that had just launched it.  It was at this point, I was later told by official Air Force personnel, that the two guys in the helicopter were "shitting in their pants".  The missile passed directly over the helicopter, maybe 100 ft. above the rotor, before descending toward the abandoned runway beyond.  It then continued on for another hundred yards or so before making a rapid 180 degree turn, sending it flying past the left side of the helicopter, from behind.  As it streaked between the helicopter and the blockhouse, the insane, psychedelic orange, supersonic missile from hell passed directly over the Laser Van, only about 20 ft. over my head!  It went another few hundred yards and then did a nose dive into the dirt, making a nice little crater.

I didn't have time to do anything, in my pants or otherwise!  The crater was blown out before my neurons could signal from my ears and eyes to my brain, probably with a few milliseconds to spare!  Any reaction of mine or anyone else's was completely after the event.  I heard later that the missile had hit the dirt before the airborne laser was turned off.  The Laser Van's laser didn't come on until after it was all over.

We (the crew of Laser Van III) all agreed that maybe next time our emergency laser should be rigged to come on with the push of a single button, INSTEAD OF HAVING TO PRESS A SPECIFIC THREE DIGIT SEQUENCE ON A KEYPAD!!!  But hey, we didn't plan these tests, we just gave them exactly what they asked for in their "Mission Requirements"!