Category NASA’S CONTRIBUTIONS TO AERONAUTICS

Nearly every NASA program related to aviation safety has required the involvement of the FAA. Anything new from NASA that affects—for example, the design of an airliner or the layout of a cockpit panel[185] or the introduction of a modified traffic control procedure that relies on

new technology[186]—must eventually be certified for use by the FAA, either directly or indirectly. This process continues today, extending the leg­acy of dozens of programs that came before—not all of which can be detailed here. But in terms of a historical overview through the eyes of the FAA, a handful of key collaborations with NASA were considered important enough by the FAA to mention in its official chronology, and they are summarized in this section.

The work of NASA’s Aeronautics Research Mission Directorate primarily takes place at NASA Field Centers in Virginia, Ohio, and California. It’s at the Ames Research Center at Moffett Field, CA, that a large share of the work to make safer skyways has been managed. Many of the more effective programs to improve the safety and efficiency of the Nation’s air traffic control system began at Ames and continue to be studied.[250]

Seven programs managed within the divisions of Ames’s Air Traffic Management Research office, described in the next section, reveal how NASA research is making a difference in the skies every day.

During the early years of 20th century aviation, it became apparent that the ability to maintaining human life and function at high altitude was only one of many human factors challenges associated with pow­ered flight. Aviation received its first big technological boost during the World War I years of 1914-1918.[303] Accompanying this advancement was a new set of human-related problems associated with flight.[304] As a result of the massive, nearly overnight wartime buildup, there were suddenly tens of thousands of newly trained pilots worldwide, flying on a daily basis in aircraft far more advanced than anyone had ever imagined pos­sible. In the latter stages of the war, aeronautical know-how had become so sophisticated that aircraft capabilities had surpassed that of their human operators. These Great War pilots, flying open-cockpit aircraft capable of altitudes occasionally exceeding 20,000 feet, began to routinely suffer from altitude sickness and frostbite.[305] They were also experiencing pressure-induced ear, sinus, and dental pain, as well as motion sickness and vertigo.[306] In addition, these early open-cockpit pilots endured the effects of ear-shattering noise, severe vibration, noxious engine fumes, extreme acceleration or gravitational g forces, and a constant hurricane – force wind blast to their faces.[307] And as if these physical challenges were not bad enough, these early pilots also suffered devastating injuries from crashes in aircraft unequipped with practically any basic safety features.[308] Less obvious, but still a very real human problem, these early high fly­ers were exhibiting an array of psychological problems, to which these stresses undoubtedly contributed.[309] Indeed, though proof of the human limitations in flying during this period was hardly needed, the British found early in the war that only 2 percent of aviation fatalities came at the hands of the enemy, while 90 percent were attributed to pilot defi­ciencies; the remainder came from structural and engine failure, and a variety of lesser causes.[310] By the end of World War I, it was painfully apparent to flight surgeons, psychologists, aircraft designers, and engi­neers that much additional work was needed to improve the human – machine interface associated with piloted flight.

Because of the many flight-related medical problems observed in air­men during the Great War, much of the human factors research accom­plished during the following two decades leading to the Second World War focused largely on the aeromedical aspects of flight. Flight surgeons, physiologists, engineers, and other professionals of this period devoted themselves to developing better life-support equipment and other pro­tective gear to improve safety and efficiency during flight operations. Great emphasis was also placed on improving pilot selection.[311]

Of particular note during the interwar period of the 1920s and 1930s were several piloted high-altitude balloon flights conducted to further investigate conditions in the upper part of the Earth’s atmosphere known as the stratosphere. Perhaps the most ambitious and fruitful of these was the 1935 joint U. S. Army Air Corps/National Geographic Society flight that lifted off from a South Dakota Black Hills natural geological depression known as the "Stratobowl.” The two Air Corps officers, riding in a sealed metal gondola—much like a future space capsule—with a virtual labora­tory full of scientific monitoring equipment, traveled to a record altitude of 72,395 feet.[312] Little did they know it at the time, but the data they col­lected while aloft would be put to good use decades later by human factors scientists in the piloted space program. This included information about cosmic rays, the distribution of ozone in the upper atmosphere, and the spectra and brightness of sun and sky, as well as the chemical composition, electrical conductivity, and living spore content of the air at that altitude.[313]

Although the U. S. Army Air Corps and Navy conducted the bulk of the human factors research during this interwar period of the 1920s and 1930s, another important contributor was the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics (NACA). Established in 1915, the NACA was actively engaged in a variety of aeronautical research for more than 40 years. Starting only with a miniscule $5,000 budget and an ambitious mission to "direct and conduct research and experimentation in aero­nautics, with a view to their practical solution,”[314] the NACA became one of this country’s leading aeronautical research agencies and remained so up until its replacement in 1958 by the newly established space agency NASA. The work that the NACA accomplished during this era in design engineering and life-support systems, in cooperation with the U. S. mil­itary and other agencies and institutions, contributed greatly to infor­mation and technology that would become vital to the piloted space program, still decades—and another World War—in the future.[315]

NASA jointly initiated this research program in 1980 with the U. S. Army, San Jose State University, and Sterling Software/QSS/Perot Systems, Inc. This ongoing, work-station-based simulation system, which was designed to further develop human performance modeling, links a "virtual human” of a certain physical anthropometric description to a cognitive (visual, auditory, and memory) structure that is representative of human abilities and limitations. MIDAS then uses these human performance models to assess a system’s procedures, displays, and controls. Using these models, procedural and equipment problems can be identified and human – system performance measures established before more expensive test­ing using human subjects.[423] The aim of MIDAS is to "reduce design cycle time, support quantitative predictions of human-system effec­tiveness, and improve the design of crew stations and their associated operating procedures.”[424] These models thus demonstrate the behavior that might be expected of human operators working with a given auto­mated system without the risk and cost of subjecting humans to these conditions. An important aspect of MIDAS is that it can be applied to any human-machine domain once adapted to the particular requirements of that system. It has in fact been employed in the development of such varied functions as establishing baseline performance measures for U. S. Army crews flying Longbow Apache helicopters with and without chem­ical warfare gear, evaluating crew performance/workload issues for steep noise abatement approaches into a vertiport, developing an advanced

NASA Shuttle orbiter cockpit with an improved display/control design, and upgrading emergency 911 dispatch facility and procedures.[425]

Controller-Pilot Data Link Communications

Research for this program, conducted by NASA’s Advanced Transport Operating System (ATOPS), was initiated in the early 1980s to improve the quality of communication between aircrew and air traffic control personnel.[426] With increased aircraft congestion, radio frequency over­load had become a potential safety issue. With so many pilots trying to communicate with ATC at the same time on the same radio frequency, the potential for miscommunication, errors, and even missed transmis­sions had become increasingly great.

One solution to this problem was a two-way data link system. This allows communications between aircrew and controllers to be displayed on computer screens both in the cockpit and at the controller’s station on the ground. Here they can be read, verified, and stored for future ref­erence. Additionally, flightcrew personnel flying in remote locations, well out of radio range, can communicate in real time with ground personnel via computers hooked up to a satellite network. The sys­tem also allows such enhanced capabilities as the transfer of weather data, charts, and other important information to aircraft flying at nearly any location in the world.[427]

Yet another aspect of this system allows computers in aircraft and on the ground to "talk” to one another directly. Controllers can thus arrange closer spacing and more direct routing for incoming and outgoing air­craft. This important feature has been calculated to save an estimated 3,000-6,000 pounds of fuel and up to 8 minutes of flight time on a typi­cal transpacific flight.[428] Digitized voice communications have even been

added to decrease the amount of aircrew "head-down” time spent read­ing messages on the screen. This system has gained support from both pilots and the FAA, especially after NASA investigations showed that the system decreased communication errors, aircrew workload, and the need to repeat ATC messages.[429]

The NACA and military visionaries initiated early efforts for the X-15 hypersonic research aircraft, in-house design studies for hypersonic vehi­cles were started at Langley and Ames, and the Air Force began its X-20 Dyna-Soar space plane program. The evolution of long, slender config­urations and others with highly swept lifting surfaces was yet another perturbation of new and unusual vehicles with unconventional aero­dynamic, stability, and control characteristics requiring the use of free – flight models for assessments of flight dynamics.

In addition to the high-speed studies of the X-15 in the Ames super­sonic free-flight facility previously discussed, the X-15 program spon­sored low-speed investigations of free-flight models at Langley in the Full-Scale Tunnel, the Spin Tunnel, and an outdoor helicopter drop model.[495] The most significant contribution of the NASA free-flight tests of the X-15 was confirmation of the effectiveness of the differential tail for control. North American had followed pioneering research at Langley on the use of the tail for roll control. It had used such a design in its YF-107A aircraft and opted to use the concept for the X-15 to avoid aile­rons that would have complicated wing design for the hypersonic air­craft. Nonetheless, skepticism existed over the potential effectiveness of the application until the free-flight tests at Langley provided a dra­matic demonstration of its success.[496]

In the late 1950s, scientists at NASA Ames conducted in-depth studies of the aerodynamic and aerothermal challenges of hypersonic reentry and concluded that blunted half-cone shapes could provide ade­quate thermal protection for vehicle structures while also producing

a significant expansion in operational range and landing options. As interest in the concept intensified following a major conference in 1958, a series of half-cone free-flight models provided convincing proof that such vehicles exhibited satisfactory flight behavior.

The most famous free-flight model activity in support of lifting body development was stimulated by the advocacy and leadership of Dale Reed of the Dryden Flight Research Center. In 1962, Reed became fasci­nated with the lifting body concept and proposed that a piloted research vehicle be used to validate the potential of lifting bodies.[497] He was par­ticularly interested in the flight characteristics of a second-generation Ames lifting body design known as the M2-F1 concept. After Reed’s convincing flights of radio-controlled models of the M2-F1 ranging from kite-like tows to launches from a larger radio-controlled mother ship demonstrated its satisfactory flight characteristics, Reed obtained approval for the construction and flight-testing of his vision of a low – cost piloted unpowered glider. The impact of motion-picture films of Reed’s free-flight model flight tests on skeptics was overwhelming, and management’s support led to an entire decade of highly successful lift­ing body flight research at Dryden.

At Langley, support for the M2-F1 flight program included free – flight tow tests of a model in the Full-Scale Tunnel, and the emergence of Langley’s own lifting body design known as the HL-10 resulted in wind tunnel tests in virtually every facility at Langley. Free-flight test­ing of a dynamic model of the HL-10 in the Full-Scale Tunnel demon­strated outstanding dynamic stability and control to angles of attack as high as 45 degrees, and rolling oscillations that had been exhibited by the earlier highly swept reentry bodies were completely damped for the HL-10 with three vertical fins.[498]

In the early 1970s, a new class of lifting body emerged, dubbed "racehorses” by Dale Reed.[499] Characterized by high fineness ratios, long pointed noses, and flat bottoms, these configurations were much more efficient at hypersonic speeds than the earlier "flying bathtubs.” One Langley-developed configuration, known as the Hyper III, was evalu­ated at Dryden by Reed and his team using free-flight models and the

mother ship test technique. Although the Hyper III was efficient at high speeds, it exhibited a very low lift-to-drag ratio at low speeds requiring some form of variable geometry such as a pivot wing, flexible wing, or gliding parachute.

Reed successfully advocated for a low-cost, 32-foot-long helicopter- launched demonstration vehicle of the Hyper III with a pop-out wing, which made its first flight in 1969. Flown from a ground-based cock­pit, the Hyper III flight was launched from a helicopter at an altitude of 10,000 feet. After being flown in research maneuvers by a research pilot using instruments, the vehicle was handed off to a safety pilot, who safely landed it. Unfortunately, funding for a low-cost piloted project sim­ilar to the earlier M2-F1 activity was not forthcoming for the Hyper III.

Without doubt, the most important technical issues in the application of dynamically scaled free-flight models are the effects of Reynolds num­ber. Although a few research agencies have attempted to minimize these effects by the use of pressurized wind tunnels, a practical approach to free-flight testing without concern for Reynolds number effects has not been identified.

In the author’s opinion, the challenge of eliminating Reynolds num­ber effects in spin studies is worthy of an investigation. In particular, the research community should seriously examine the possibilities of combining recent advances in cryogenic wind tunnel technology, magnetic suspension systems, and other relevant fields in a feasibility study of free-spinning tests at full-scale values of Reynolds number. The obvious issues of cost, operational efficiencies, and value added versus today’s testing would be critical factors in the study, although one would hope that the operational experiences gained in the U. S. and Europe with cryogenic tunnels in recent years might provide some optimism for success.

Other approaches to analyzing and correcting for Reynolds num­ber effects might involve the application of computational fluid dynam­ics (CFD) methods. Although applications of CFD methods to dynamic stability and control issues are in their infancy, one can visualize their use in evaluating the impact of Reynolds number on critical phenom­ena such as the effect of fuselage cross-sectional shape on spin damping.

In summary, the next major breakthroughs in dynamic free-flight model technology should come in the area of improving the prediction of Reynolds number effects. However, to make advances toward this goal will require programmatic commitments similar to the ones made during the past 80 years for the continued support of model testing in the specialty areas discussed herein.

Stephen Trimble

Structures and structural materials have undergone progressive refine­ment. Originally, aircraft were fabricated much like ships and complex wooden musical instruments: of wood, wire, and cloth. Then, metal gradually supplanted these materials. Now, high-strength compos­ite materials have become the next generation, allowing for synthetic structures with even better structural properties for much less weight. NASA has assiduously pursued development of composite structures.

HEN THE LOCKHEED MARTIN X-55 advanced composite cargo aircraft (ACCA) took flight early on the morning of June 2, 2009,[642] it marked a watershed moment in a century-long quest to marry the high-strength yet lightweight properties of plastics with the structure required to support a heavily loaded flying vehicle. As the X-55, a greatly modified Dornier 328Jet, headed east from the runway at the U. S. Air Force’s Plant 42 outside Palmdale, CA, it gave the appear­ance of a conventional cargo aircraft. But the X-55’s fuselage structure aft of the fuselage represented perhaps the promising breakthrough in four decades of composite technology development.

The single barrel, measuring 55 feet long by 9 feet wide,[643] revolu­tionizes expectations for structural performance at the same time that it proposes to dramatically reduce manufacturing costs. In the long his­tory of applying composites to aircraft structures, the former seemed always to come at the expense of the latter, or vice versa. Yet the X-55 defies experience, with both aluminum skins and traditional compos­ites. To distinguish it from the aluminum skin of the 328Jet, Lockheed used fewer than 4,000 fasteners to assemble the aircraft with the single­

piece fuselage barrel. The metal 328Jet requires nearly 30,000 fasteners for all the pieces to fit together.[644] Unlike traditional composites, the X-55 did not require hours of time baking in a complex and costly industrial oven called an autoclave. Neither was the X-55 skin fashioned from tex­tile preforms with resins requiring a strictly controlled climate that can be manipulated only within a precise window of time. Instead, Lockheed relied on an advanced composite resin called MTM45-1, an "out – of-autoclave” material flexible enough to assemble on a production line yet strong enough to support the X-55’s normal aerodynamic loads and payload of three 463L-standard cargo pallets.[645]

Lockheed attributed the program’s success to the fruits of a 10-year program sponsored by the Air Force Research Laboratory called the composites affordability initiative.[646] In truth, the X-55 bears the legacy of nearly a century’s effort to make plastic suitable in terms of both per­formance and cost for serving as a load-bearing structure for large mil­itary and commercial aircraft.

It was an effort that began almost as soon as a method to mass – produce plastic became viable within 4 years after the Wright brothers’ first flight in 1903. In aviation’s formative years, plastics spread from cockpit dials to propellers to the laminated wood that formed the fuse­lage structure for small aircraft. Several decades would pass, however, before the properties of all but the most advanced plastics could be con­sidered for mainstream aerospace applications. The spike in fuel prices of the early 1970s accelerated the search for a basic construction mate­rial for aircraft more efficient than aluminum, and composites finally moved to the forefront. Just as the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics (NACA) fueled the industry’s transition from spruce to metal in the early 1930s, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) would pioneer the progression from all-metal airframes to all­composite material over four decades.

The first flight of the X-55 moved the progression of composite tech­nology one step further. As a reward, the Air Force Research Laboratory announced 4 months later that it would continue to support the X-55
program, injecting more funding to continue a series of flight tests.[647] Where the X-55 technology goes from here can only be guessed.

Aircraft instrumentation has always been intrinsically related to flight safety. The challenge of blind and bad-weather flying in the 1920s led to development of both radio navigation equipment and tech­niques, and specialized blind-flying instrumentation, typified by the gyro-stabilized artificial horizon, which, like radar later, was one of the few truly transforming instruments developed in the history of flight, for it made possible instrument-only (IFR) flight. Taken together with advances in the Federal airway system, the development of lightweight airborne radars, digital electronics, sophisticated communications, and radar-based and later satellite navigation, as well as access to up-to-date weather information, revolutionized civil and military air operations. Ironically, accident rates remained high, particularly among GA pilots flying single-pilot (SP) aircraft under IFR conditions. By the early 1980s, the National Transportation Safety Board was reporting that "SPIFR” accidents accounted for 79 percent of all IFR-related accidents, with half of these occurring during high-workload landing approaches, total­ing more than 100 serious accidents attributable to pilot error per year.[858] Analysis revealed five major problem areas: controller judgment and response, pilot judgment and response, Air Traffic Control (ATC) intra­facility and interfacility conflict, ATC-pilot communication, and IFR – VFR (instrument flight rules-visual flight rules) conflicts. Common to
all of these were a mix of human error, communications deficiencies, conflicting or complex procedures and rules, and excessive workload. In particular, NASA researchers concluded that "methods, techniques, and systems for reducing work load are drastically needed.”[859]

In the mid-1970s, NASA aeronautics planners had identified "design[ing] avionic systems to more effectively integrate the light air­plane with the air-space system” as a priority, with researchers at Ames Research Center evaluating integration avionic functions with the goal of producing a single system concept.[860] In 1978, faced with the challenge of rising SPIFR accidents, NASA Langley Research Center launched a SPIFR program, holding a workshop in August 1983 at Langley to review and evaluate the progress to date on SPIFR studies and to dis­seminate it to an industry, academic, and governmental audience. The SPIFR program studied in depth the interface of the pilot and airplane, looking at a variety of issues ranging from the tradeoffs between com­plex autopilots and their potential benefits to simulator utility. Overall, researchers found that "[b]ecause of the increase in air traffic and the more sophisticated and complex ground control systems handling this traffic, IFR flight has become extremely demanding, frequently tax­ing the pilot to his limits. It is rapidly becoming imperative that all the pilot’s sensory and manipulative skills be optimized in managing the air­craft systems”; hopefully, they reasoned, the rapid growth in computer capabilities could "enhance single-crewman effectiveness in future air­craft operations and automated ATC systems.”[861] Encouragingly, in part because of NASA research, a remarkable 41-percent decrease in overall GA accidents did occur from the mid-1980s to the late 1990s.[862]

However, all was not well. Indeed, a key goad stimulating NASA’s pur­suit of avionics technology to enhance flight safety (particularly weather safety) was the decline of American General Aviation. In the late 1970s, America’s GA aircraft industry reached the peak of its power: in 1978, manufacturers shipped 17,817 aircraft, and the next year, 1979, the top three manufacturers—Cessna, Beech, and Gates Learjet—had combined sales over $1.8 billion. It seemed poised for even greater success over the next decade. In fact, such did not occur, thanks largely to rapidly rising insurance costs added to aircraft purchase prices, a by-product of a "rash of product liability lawsuits against manufacturers stem­ming from aircraft accidents,” some frivolously alleging inherent design flaws in aircraft that had flown safely for previous decades. Rising air­craft prices cooled any ardor for new aircraft purchases, particularly of single-engine light aircraft (business aircraft sales were affected, but more slowly). Other factors also contributed, including a global reces­sion in the early 1980s, an increase in aircraft leasing and charter aircraft operations (lessening the need for personal ownership), and mergers within the aircraft industry that eliminated some production programs. The number of students taking flight instruction fell by over a third, from 150,000 in 1980 to 96,000 in 1994. That year, GA manufacturers produced just 928 aircraft, representing a production decline of almost 95 percent since the heady days of the late 1970s.[863]

The year 1994 witnessed both the near-extinction of American General Aviation and its fortuitous revival. At the nadir of its fortunes, relief, fortunately, was in hand, thanks to two initiatives launched by Congress and NASA. The first was the General Aviation Revitalization Act (GARA) of 1994, passed by Congress and signed into law in August that year by President William Jefferson Clinton.[864] GARA banned prod­uct liability claims against manufacturers later than 18 years after an aircraft or component first flew. By 1998, the 18-year provision could be applied to the large numbers of aircraft produced in the 1970s, bring­ing relief at last to manufacturers who had been so plagued by legal action that many had actually taken aircraft—including old classics such as the Cessna C-172—out of production.[865] It is not too strong to state that GARA saved the American GA industry from utter extinction, for it brought much needed stability and restored sanity to a litigation process that had gotten out of hand. Thus it constitutes the most signif­icant piece of American aviation legislation passed in the modern era.

But important as well was a second initiative, the establishment by NASA of the AGATE program, a joint NASA-industry-FAA partnership. AGATE existed thanks to the persistency of Bruce Holmes, the Agency’s Assistant Director of Aeronautics, who had vigorously championed it. Functionally organized within NASA’s Advanced Subsonic Technology Project Office, AGATE dovetailed nicely with GARA. It sought to revi­talize GA by focusing on innovative cockpit technologies that could achieve goals of safety, affordability, and ease of use, chief of which was the "Highway in the Sky” (HITS) initiative, which aimed to replace the dial-and-gauge legacy instrument technology of the 1920s with advanced computer-based graphical presentations. As well, it supported crashwor­thiness research. It served as well as single focal point to bring together NASA, industry, Government, and GA community representatives.

AGATE ran from 1994 through 2001, and a key aspect of its success was that it operated under a NASA-unique process, the Joint Sponsored Research Agreement (JSRA), a management process that streamlined research and internal management processes, while accelerating the results of technology development into the private sector. AGATE suf­fered in its early years from "learning problems” with internal communi­cation, with building trust and openness among industry partners more used to seeing themselves as competitors, and with managerial over­sight of its activities. Some participants were disappointed that AGATE never achieved its most ambitious objective, a fully automated aircraft. Others were bothered by the uncertainty of steady Federal support, a characteristic aspect of Federal management of research and develop­ment. But if not perfect—and no program ever is—AGATE proved vital to restoring GA, and as an end-of-project study concluded inelegantly if bluntly, "[a]ccording to participants from all parts of the program, AGATE revitalized an industry that had gone into the toilet.”[866]

The legacy of AGATE is evident in much of NASA’s subsequent avi­onics and cockpit presentation research, which, building upon earlier research, has involved improving a pilot’s situational awareness. Since weather-related accidents account for one-third of all aviation accidents and over one-quarter of all GA accidents, a particular concern is present­ing timely and informative weather information, for example, graphics overlaid on navigational and geographical cockpit displays.[867] Another area of acute interest is improving pilot controllability via advanced flight control technology to close the gap between an automobile-like 2-D control system and the traditionally more complex 3-D aircraft sys­tem and generating a HITS-like synthetic vision capability to enhance flight safety. This, too, is a longstanding concern, related to the handling qualities and flight control capabilities of aircraft so that the pilot can concentrate more on what is going on around the aircraft than having to concentrate on flying it.[868]

By the mid-1990s, it was clear to NASA researchers that use of unpiloted vehicles for research and operational purposes was expanding dramat­ically. R. Dale Reed and others at Dryden proposed development of in­house, hands-on expertise in flight-testing experimental UAVs to guide and support anticipated research projects. They suggested that lower risks and higher mission-success rates could be achieved by applying les­sons learned from flight-test experience and crew training. Additionally, they recommended that special attention be paid to human factors by standardizing ground control consoles and UAV operational procedures.

To meet these goals, Reed recommended using two types of low – cost expendable UAVs. The first was a radio-controlled model air­plane weighing less than 50 pounds but capable of carrying miniature downlink television cameras, autopilot, and GPS guidance systems. Requirements for flight termination systems and control redundancy for such an aircraft would be much less stringent than those for larger UAVs, and the model would require much less airspace for flight oper­ations. Reed felt the R/C model could serve as a basic trainer for UAV pilots because the same skills and knowledge are required regardless of vehicle size. Additionally, the R/C model could provide flight research results at very low cost.[998] Second, Reed felt the modified Rans S-12 ("Ye Better Duck”) should be returned to flight status since an ultra­light-type vehicle could duplicate the size and flying characteristics of planned high-altitude RPRVs then being developed. He saw the S-12 as an advanced trainer for NASA UAV crews. The S-12 had not been flown since January 1994 and required a thorough inspection of airframe and engine, as well as replacement of batteries in several of its sys­tems. Reed recommended that Tony Frackowiak of the Dryden Physics Lab be given the task of preparing the "Ye Better Duck” for flight sta­tus and then serving as primary checkout pilot.[999] Reed submitted his proposals to Dryden director Ken Szalai with a recommendation to develop a Utility UAV as a mother ship for small experimental models. Jenny Baer-Riedhart and John Del Frate, Project Manager and Assistant Project Manager, respectively, for the Environmental Research Aircraft and Sensor Technology (ERAST) program, were willing to support the project plan if the Dryden Operations Division provided a require­ment and also pledged strong support for the plan. Research pilots Dana Purifoy, Tom McMurtry, and Steve Ishmael were enthusiastic about the project. Ishmael immediately saw a potential application for the Utility UAV to drop a subscale aerodynamic model of the planned X-33 spacecraft. Project personnel included Reed as Utility UAV project engi­neer, research pilot Purifoy, crew chief/project pilot Tony Frackowiak, UAV systems technician Howard Trent, and UAV backup pilot Jerry Budd.[1000] [1001]

During this time, Reed reactivated the old R/C Mothership that had been used to launch lifting body models in the 1960s. Frackowiak removed and overhauled its engines, cleaned the exhaust system, replaced throttle servos, and made other repairs. During six checkout flights November 25, 1996, the Mothership underwent checkout and demonstrated a 20-pound payload capability. It was subsequently used as a launch air­craft for a model of a hypersonic wave rider and a 5-percent-scale model of the Pegasus satellite booster.123 Meanwhile, Reed had pressed on with plans for the larger Utility UAV. For systems development, Frackowiak acquired a Tower Hobbies Trainer-60 R/C model and modified it to accept several different gyro and autopilot configurations. The Trainer 60 was 57 inches long, had a 69-inch wingspan, and weighed just 8 pounds. Frackowiak conducted more than a dozen test flights with the model in March 1997.[1002] In April 1997, the Mothership was equipped with a video camera and telemetry system that would also be used on the Utility UAV. The first three test flights took place at Rosamond Dry Lake on the morning of April 10, with one pilot inside a control van watching a video monitor and another outside directly observing the aircraft. For the first flight, Frackowiak served as outside pilot—controlling takeoff and landing—while Reed familiarized himself with pitch and roll angles in climb, cruise, and descent. On the third flight, they switched positions so Reed could make a low approach to familiarize Frackowiak with the view from the camera. They found that it helped to have a ground mark­ing (such as a runway edge stripe) on the lakebed as a visual reference during touchdown. Other areas for improvement included the reduc­tion of glare on the video monitor, better uplink antenna orientation, and stabilization of pitch and roll rate gyros to help less-experienced pilots more easily gain proficiency.[1003] In May 1997, Dana Purifoy began familiarization and training with the Mothership. In August, the air­craft was again used to launch the Pegasus model (for deep-stall tests) as well as a Boeing-UCLA Solar-Powered Formation Flight (SPFF) vehicle.

On August 5, Reed piloted the Mothership, while Frackowiak flew the SPFF model.

In September 1997, Frackowiak modified the Mothership’s launch hook to accept a scale model of the Lockheed Martin X-33 lifting body vehicle. The X-33 Mini-RPRV was, like the SPFF model, equipped with its own set of radio controls. Initial drop flights took place September 30 at a sod farm near Palmdale, with John Howell piloting the X-33 model.

Following a series of SPFF flights in October, the Mothership was taken to Air Force Plant 42 in Palmdale for more X-33 Mini-RPRV drops. On February 12, 1998, interference led to loss of control. The Mothership crashed, sustaining severe but repairable damage to wing and nose.[1004]

While the Mothership was undergoing repairs, Frackowiak com­pleted construction of the 30-pound Utility UAV in April 1998. On April 24, he took the airplane to Tailwinds Field, a popular R/C model airstrip in Lancaster, for its first flight. Takeoff at partial power was uneventful. After gaining 300 feet altitude, Frackowiak applied full power to check the trim then checked controllability in slow flight before bringing the Utility UAV in for a smooth landing.

By the end of June, the aircraft had been cleared to carry payloads weighing up to 20 pounds. Three months later, the Utility UAV was

modified to carry the X-33 Mini-RPRV. On September 10, Reed and John Redman began a series of captive flights at Rosamond Dry Lake. Drop testing at Rosamond began 4 days later, with 4 successful free flights made over a 2-day span to evaluate higher X-33 model weights and a dummy nose boom.[1005] On October 1, 1998, the Utility UAV made its 20th flight, and the X-33 model was released for the 5th time at Rosamond. Piloted by Frackowiak, the lifting body’s steep descent ended with a flaw­less landing, but disaster lurked in wait for the drop plane. As Redman maneuvered the Utility UAV toward final approach, he watched it sud­denly roll to the left and plunge into the clay surface of the lakebed, sus­taining major damage.[1006] Further testing of the X-33 Mini-RPRV was undertaken using the repaired Mothership. Several successful drops were made in early October, as well as a familiarization flight for research pilot Mark Stucky. Reed noted in his log: "The Mothership has again proven the practicality of its design, as it has been flawless during these launches. And it is very good to see it flying and performing useful missions again.”[1007]

NASA participated extensively in plans to develop an American SST. President Kennedy had committed the U. S. Government to contrib­ute funding for 7 5 percent of the aircraft’s development cost, with a $1-billion upper limit. Industry would contribute the rest of the cost, with the Government money to be repaid via royalty payments as air­craft were sold. This Government backing was a response to the 1962 announcement of a joint government-backed program between France (Sud Aviation) and England (British Aircraft Corporation) companies to develop a Mach 2.2, 100-passenger transport, which emerged as the graceful Concorde. The FAA, NASA, and the Department of Defense would manage the American program and select a final contractor to make the SST a reality.[1092] The competition aspect of the program gained even more of a Cold War aspect when the Soviet Union announced in June 1965 that it also was developing a Mach 2.2 SST, which would fly in 1968. The United States was still deciding on a contractor and design to be given the go-ahead.

The finalist contractors selected in May 1964 were Lockheed and Boeing, after rival Douglas and NAA designs (the latter based on B-70 technology) were eliminated. Although the initial submissions had a speed requirement of Mach 2.2+ with 160 passengers, the selected ini­tial designs were a double delta Lockheed Model 2000 Mach 3 aircraft and a Boeing Model 733 Mach 2.7 variable sweep aircraft reminiscent of the NASA SCAT 16 design. Both finalist contractors had done anal­yses of the NASA SCAT designs in 1963. They had reached the conclu­sion that at Mach 2.2, the range specification could not be achieved, so they opted for the higher Mach cruises. FAA Administrator Najeeb Halaby had favored the higher cruise speed with larger capacity to pre­empt the Concorde in the international airliner marketplace. General Electric and Pratt & Whitney were the engine contractors chosen to develop engines for the SST. Both had developed 30,000-pound thrust engines for supersonic cruise airplanes (GE J93 for the XB-70 and Pratt & Whitney J58 for the A-12/SR-71), but the SST would require four 60,000-pound thrust engines.

The selection was announced on the last day of 1966. The Lockheed configuration had remained relatively unchanged, while the Boeing fuse­lage had been made longer and the engine position had shifted from under the wing to under the tail. Even the name had been changed, to

Boeing 2707. Both contractors built impressive full-scale mockups that were as much publicity props as engineering tools. (Unfortunately, the impressive mockups would prove to be the only airplanes built.) With fuselage lengths around 300 feet to accommodate up to 300 passengers and the fuel for ranges of over 3,000 miles, the mockups represented a new dawn in civil aviation. But the Boeing design and the Pratt & Whitney engine were chosen as the United States’ entry in the super­sonic airliner derby. (Details of the Boeing design showed that the vari­able sweep wing was unachievable because of weight and complexity; the Boeing design had 59 control surfaces, versus the Lockheed design’s 16). Eventually, the Boeing design evolved to a fixed double delta with a small horizontal tail and four underwing engine nacelles with axisym- metric inlets. American flag carriers placed $100,000 deposits to reserve delivery positions on the production line with an order book of 120 air­craft by 1969, and work began on the first prototype.[1093]