(Text: Michael Wegerich, published in: DHS No. 1)
Every one of us who began flight training dreamed of flying a combat aircraft that could be equipped with gun and missile armament, that flew faster than twice the speed of sound and with which experienced pilots had already scored aerial victories.
It was in spring 1975 when, aged 21, I had completed the first 20 flights with an instructor in the MiG-21U trainer from Rothenburg airfield and, in not quite 10 hours of flying time, had gained the experience and skills to fly a modern supersonic aircraft. I had passed the first solo on the MiG-21U with "very good". The instructor got out of the rear cockpit after the last check flight, and I "only" had to repeat the next flight, the solo, in exactly the same way, but without an instructor. On that flight everything was as usual, as I had experienced it on the last 20 flights.
The day had come when I could and had to prove that I mastered this single-seat combat aircraft, the MiG-21F-13, in the circuit. In front of me now stood a MiG-21 too, and yet it was a different aircraft. The airframe and landing gear were different. The modified engine forced us to learn new engine parameters. The cockpit was different. Switches were in other places, weapon switches had been added. Flight instruments were not where I had become used to them, and the view forward was through bulletproof glass about 10 cm thick. What would the flight characteristics be like? Would the aircraft react as expected? We had practised starting the aircraft in cockpit training, learned the actions in special emergencies by heart and repeated them to the instructor countless times. I knew all the parameters of the circuit, for take-off and landing. Actually nothing could go wrong. Nevertheless, I looked full of awe at the aircraft, which had already proven itself in real air combat. It was a challenge. During the walk-around I was still nervous; the technician, who reported to me and handed over the aircraft, was the picture of calm. For him it was routine and for me a highlight.
After I received permission to start from the flying control officer and pressed the start button, the stage fright was over. I thought only of the actions and checks I had to perform. My head only had room for the thoughts that pointed me to the next check or the next action. I was ready to taxi. The technician signalled clearance to taxi, the flying control officer gave permission to taxi. I increased the revs, released the brakes and the aircraft began to roll. After a few metres I had to turn right out of the flightline onto the taxiway. I pressed the rudder pedals and applied the brake. Before the aircraft changed direction, I heard a loud rattling that was briefly transmitted to the whole aircraft. The braked wheel began to oscillate with the landing gear leg, and this was transmitted to the wing and the whole aircraft. That was normal on the F-13 if you braked a little hard. But I had not expected the loud noise. I taxied to the last-chance check point. My aircraft was checked once more by two technicians before I taxied onto the runway. There were no defects and I received the signal to continue. All the while I was listening to the radio. As nobody was on approach, I requested permission to line up on the runway. After I was lined up in the take-off direction, had set the flaps to the take-off position and checked switches and flight instruments, I reported ready for take-off. The flying control officer answered "vzlyot vam razreshayu" (take-off approved). The Russian commands were no longer a problem, as we had already flown the L-29 in Dresden the previous year according to the Russian command table. I pushed the throttle forward to the "maximum afterburner" position. I felt my pulse. The few seconds until the afterburner lit felt like an eternity. Then I felt the jolt and the green signal light came on. The afterburner had lit. I released the brakes and the aircraft accelerated. After passing 100 km/h, I pulled the stick back. The nose rose. I fixed the angle so that the nose just covered the end of the runway. At 330 km/h I lifted off. I was impressed and thrilled by the acceleration. Landing gear retracted, a quick glance at the altitude. 150 m, retract the flaps. If my climb angle is right, I must have reached 500 km/h at 300 m. The parameters are right, I can switch off the afterburner and begin the first turn with 30 degrees of bank at 500 km/h, climbing to 500 m. Suddenly I hear a loud, dull bang in the nose. What was that? All parameters are in order. I continue my first turn without interruption. I was to hear this dull bang more than 2000 times. When the afterburner is switched off after take-off, the auxiliary intake doors close due to the pressure change in the intake duct and cause a noise. Only on this flight, sensitive to everything "new", did I notice things that could already be felt or heard on the first 20 flights in the MiG-21U. Just before reaching the downwind leg, the altitude was 500 m. I brought the aircraft to the horizon and rolled out of the bank. In doing so, I found that this MiG-21, the F-13, reacted much more sensitively to control inputs than the trainer. You had to fly with small, measured control inputs. Later I found that it is best to trim the aircraft well and let it fly. But now I was still flying according to the motto "flying is a constant correction of errors". On the way abeam the field I allowed myself a glance at the airfield and the surroundings. I saw the Neisse below me on the right and on the left the small patchwork fields in Poland. The landing course was 360 degrees, so I flew 180 degrees to the third turn. The time to enjoy the landscape, the few white clouds and the wonderful blue sky from 500 m at 500 km/h was short. It was time to prepare for landing, i.e. check the compressed air for the brakes and the hydraulic pressure for extending the landing gear. The engine is running steadily and the oil pressure is normal. I have reached the point for extending the landing gear. The gear lever is operated and the revs increased to 85%. The landing gear is checked; it is fully extended and locked. I report my intention to land to the flying control officer and begin the third turn after receiving landing clearance. After rolling out of the turn I begin the descent; the flaps are to be extended and the speed reduced to 450 km/h. When the flaps are extended, the same pitch-up moment occurs as on the MiG-21U. By now I have got used to the cockpit and the aircraft. I recognise the landmarks my instructor showed me as aids. I am exactly right and the parameters are correct. I begin the fourth turn so that I can roll out on the landing course without bank corrections. I can compensate for the slight crosswind from the west with a little drift correction. In a few seconds I pass over the outer locator (4 km point). I hear the signal of the 4 km marker. My speed 420 km/h, altitude 230 m. I am a bit too high and reduce the revs. 30 seconds to touchdown. Little time for corrections. The inner marker beeps (1 km marker), altitude 60 m, speed 360 km/h, sink rate 5 m/s. Now everything is right. 12 seconds to go. The runway comes closer and closer quickly. I have the feeling I am going to hit the runway and would like to flare, but that is wrong. I deliberately aim short of the runway. I am below 10 m and begin to flare only slightly, cross the runway threshold at 2 m. I take off the revs. The aircraft begins to settle, I ease the stick back slightly and touch down as smooth as butter at 300 km/h. The nose is lowered, the brake chute deployed. I feel the jolt – the chute has opened. Done it! The circuit did not even last 10 minutes and I was already soaked in sweat. It was a good landing. I was satisfied with myself, but much more importantly, so was the flying control officer. I received "very good" for take-off, approach, landing calculation and landing attitude. I did not manage that on the next flights. But on this day I took another step towards my childhood dream: to become a pilot and a fighter pilot.