Iron Modeler

The Hows and Whys of Post-War United States Military Air Power

Howdy, all!  Today (28 March 2024, to be exact) is a rare day--I'm making multiple posts on the same day for your reading enjoyment.  Sit back, relax, and enjoy...
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Today, let’s examine how the creation of the United States Air Force as a separate branch of the military created the military’s air power structure. This is a much larger brief than I had planned, but it answers a friend’s questions of “Why doesn’t the Army or Marines operate the A-10” and “How did the military air power structure get the way it is?”

Several names to remember—these acts of Congress, conferences, memorandums, and agreements shaped the United States’ post-WWII air power doctrine:

• The National Security Act of 1947

• The Key West Agreement of 1948

• The Pace-Finletter Memorandum of Understanding of 1952

• The Howze Board of 1961

• The Johnson-McConnell Agreement of 1966
  

It is a tangled tale, and if you really want to start at the start, it goes back to 1907.

The U. S. Army got into the aviation business during the Civil War, actually, but things began in earnest when the Aeronautical Division, U. S. Army Signal Corps was formed in 1907. The Aeronautical Division began acquiring aircraft in 1908, purchasing one nonrigid airship and one Wright Model A airplane from the Wright Brothers. The dirigible was delivered in July 1908, and the airplane came along in September. It was this airplane that also caused the first military fatality related to the new machines, when, on 17 September 1908, a propeller split, severed a guy wire, causing the airplane to crash. Killed in the crash was LT Thomas E. Selfridge, one of the early officers of the Division…

As the years went by, the Aeronautical Division would be replaced with the Air Division, which became the Aviation Section of the U. S. Signal Corps, which was in turn replaced by the U. S. Army Air Service in the World War I years. In 1926, the Army’s aviation group became the U. S. Army Air Corps, a title it would maintain until 1941, when it was changed to the U. S. Army Air Forces. The Air Corps still would exist in the army, relegated to battlefield observation and liaison duties, while the USAAF would handle the ever evolving concept of strategic and tactical air power.

Things got interesting. Since the early 1920’s, there had always been a faction of the USAAC/USAAF who believed that the service should be separate and independent from the Army. In 1947, the National Security Act did just that—in among many items that discussed intelligence gathering, a National Military Establishment, and security, President Truman ordered the creation of a United States Air Force as an independent branch of a revamped Department of Defense. In part, the duties were broadly outlined:

“In general, the United States Air Force shall include aviation forces both combat and service not otherwise assigned. It shall be organized, trained, and equipped primarily for prompt and sustained offensive and defensive air operations. The Air Force shall be responsible for the preparation of the air forces necessary for the effective prosecution of war except as otherwise assigned and, in accordance with integrated joint mobilization plans, for the expansion of the peacetime components of the Air Force to meet the needs of war.”

At the same time, the U. S. Navy realized the importance of aviation, and began to develop their own organic air arm for the Fleet, as well as for the United States Marine Corps. Indeed, through the better part of two World Wars, the Navy’s investment in aviation paid off, much to the chagrin of long-time “Black-Shoe” officers. As aircraft became more capable, they would replace the big guns of the Navy’s battleships and cruisers. They became the eyes and ears of the Fleet, and they employed it quite effectively. The one drawback to post-war Navy aviation was that the early jets caused some issues. They were slow, thirsty, and early jet engines’ performance made them less than ideal from operations from a carrier deck.

At the end of the war, the United States possessed nuclear weapons. The nuclear weapons of the day were large, and required large aircraft to deliver them—aircraft that were in the USAF inventory. Naval aircraft, operating off carrier decks, could not carry and deliver the nukes of the period. As a bit of a sop to the Navy, Truman promised the Navy that they could build their “supercarrier”, the USS United States (CVA-58), and allowed them to maintain an aviation wing of their own—for tactical, not strategic functions.

As the saying goes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions…

In March 1947, the service chiefs met in Key West, Florida to come up with specified duties for each branch of the United States armed forces. The documents that resulted from these meetings have been collectively called the “Key West Agreement of 1948”, formally Functions of the Armed Forces and the Joint Chiefs of Staff. The largest outcome of the meetings was an outline on how air assets would be deployed. The aforementioned Supercarrier and Naval Air Arm were indeed part of the discussion, but the largest discussion concerned the new USAF. Because they felt they were in the strategic airpower business, the USAF wanted to be the sole branch to conduct strategic aerial warfare. The truth be told, Curtis LeMay, USAF Chief of Staff, thought the USAF should be the sole service branch to operate any form of aircraft—or, as he put it, the Air Force should operate “everything that flies, right down the last puddle jumper.”

In the end, the Key West Agreement specified that the Navy (and by extension, the Marines) needed to have their own tactical (but not strategic) air power, and were permitted to develop the same. The Army was sort of left out in the cold in all these talks, and the aviation duties left within the Army structure at the time of the National Security Act were more or less kept as-is. The Air Force’s specific areas of operation were kept a bit vague at the time the Agreement was signed.

The papers, and the resulting memorandum, was sent to the Joint Chiefs in March 1948. A few months later, the Agreement was amended, and specific duties for the USAF were outlined:

• Gain/maintain air superiority

• Air defense of the United States

• Strategic air warfare

• Interdiction of enemy land power and communications

• Close combat and logistical air support

• Intelligence (including tactical intelligence) and aerial photography

• Airlift, air transport and resupply, and support for airborne and amphibious operations

• Interdict enemy sea power

• Antisubmarine warfare and shipping protection

• Aerial mine-laying

At the end of the day, the Army got to say their piece. The Agreement was said to bind the Armed Forces together into an “efficient team of land, naval, and air forces”. The USAF was to provide CAS, airlift, resupply, reconnaissance, and infrastructure interdiction. The Navy was given responsibility for developing and maintaining a tactical air arm. The Army could retain aviation assets for battlefield reconnaissance and medical evacuation (Medevac).

In 1948, this arrangement worked given the equipment then being fielded. However, time and technology stand still for no man…

In 1952, a memorandum of understanding was drafted and signed by then-Secretary of the Air Force Thomas K. Finletter and then-Secretary of the Army Frank Pace. Called the Pace-Finletter Memorandum of Understanding, it accomplished two objectives.

The first objective was removing the gross weight capacity of the Army’s rotary wing aircraft. As helicopters developed and could carry more and do more than simple battlefield observation and short-distance medevac tasks, the Army would find ways to use them to their advantage. The Pace-Finletter MOU codified these changes, to a certain extent, by allowing the Army to operate larger helicopters to serve their combat needs.

At the same time, the MOU imposed a 5,000-lb. empty gross weight restriction on the Army’s fixed-wing assets. This limited the types of aircraft the Army could use, mostly directed at the liaison and administrative types in use.

This MOU also placed limits on what the USAF could do with their own helicopters. They could be used for airlift and medevac purposes to support combat operations using either fixed- OR rotary-wing aircraft.

It also stated the following:

“Army organic aviation will consist of aircraft primarily utilized by the Army within the Army combat zone as an integral part of its components for the purpose of expediting and improving ground combat and logistical procedures, subject, however, to the limitation that such aircraft will not duplicate the functions of the U.S. Air Force in providing the Army, by fixed-wing and rotary-wing type aircraft, close combat support, assault transport and other troop carrier airlift, aerial photography, tactical reconnaissance and interdiction of enemy land power and communications.”

But wait, there’s more!

By the early 1960’s, the Army (and, to some extent, the Marines) were developing what would become known as the Airmobile concept. One of the tenets of this new way of thinking was that the Army would use specialized helicopters to provide organic Close Air Support to their troops in the field. The war in Southeast Asia was beginning to create a lot of friction between the Army and Air Force. The Air Force pointed to the Key West Agreement and the Pace-Finletter MOU and bluntly told the Army to:

A. Stop using armed helicopters for CAS

B. Stop arming the new Grumman OV-1 Mohawk Battlefield Surveillance airplane

C. Terminate the AC-1 Caribou program.

As discussed, LeMay firmly believed that the USAF should be the only service branch to operate any type of aircraft. And, to LeMay, that meant strategic air warfare doctrine developed around the deployment and use of nuclear weapons. However, the Key West Agreement and Pace-Finletter MOU challenged that notion.

Enter the Howze Board. And enter more fuel to the fire.

The Howze Board was convened at the behest of Secretary of Defense McNamara to discuss a working plan for integrating helicopters into a coherent unit. It also wanted to explore the use of helicopters as Close Air Support aircraft, something the Air Force was vehemently against. After all, one of the tenets of both the Key West Agreement and the Pace-Finletter MOU was establishing the USAF’s responsibility for fielding CAS assets, and the stipulation that the Army should not develop aircraft in parallel to the Air Force for the same mission.

Tangent: For those who want to point at the USMC’s use of their own CAS (from the use of F4U Corsairs in Korea to AV-8B Harriers in modern times), recall that the Key West Agreement allowed the Navy and Marines to develop and field “tactical” aviation assets. Loophole? Yeah. But the fact that the Air Force was split off from the Army as a separate, mature force was much different than the way the Marines were always a paired service with the Navy, and developed their own air arms together.

The result of the Howze Board was the formation of the 11^th Air Assault Division (Test) in 1963 at Fort Benning, Georgia. The subordinate units of the 11^th Air Assault Division planned and tested various concepts until they found a workable formula. In 1965, the 11^th Air Assault Division (Test) was merged with the 10^th Air Transport Brigade and the 2^nd Infantry Division. The Division was then inactivated and the personnel and materiel were assigned to the 1^st Cavalry Division (Airmobile). They were sent to Vietnam in July, 1965, and began to prove the Airmobile concept to the Army leadership. The Army was satisfied that organic Army units could indeed carry out any mission that the situation called for.

This is where what would be “another story for another time” needs to be told now. The AC-1 (later CV-2) Caribou was a deHavilland Canada cargo airplane designed at the request of the U. S. Army capable of short field operations. The Army saw these aircraft as ideal for carrying troops and cargo into the battlefield. The Air Force, however, insisted that the Fairchild C-123 could carry more for a longer distance. What rankled the USAF was that, with the acquisition of the Caribou and the OV-1, the Army was building an organic tactical air arm.

Incidentally, the Caribou proved to be a better aircraft in theater, but the USAF was still not happy. So…

In 1966, Army Chief of Staff Harold K. Johnson and USAF Chief of Staff John P. McConnell came to an agreement, called the Johnson-McConnell agreement of 1966. The result: The Army agreed to give up the Caribou, which were transferred to the USAF in 1967 under Operation RED LEAF and re-designated as C-7. The agreement stated that the USAF was required to maintain the C-7 and were required to confer with the Army before replacing or retiring the type.

The Army was allowed to retain the OV-1. They continued to arm them, much to the chagrin of the USAF.

At the same time, this agreement made the USAF relinquish all rotary wing aircraft used for intra-theater transport and other Army-related missions. This was specifically aimed at the USAF use of the Sikorsky CH-3A as transports. The USAF’s use of these aircraft were to be limited to Special Air Warfare and Search and Rescue use.

And the Air Force adopted the Navy's Vought A-7 (as the A-7D) for the close air support mission.  After evaluating that aircraft's combat performance in the skies over Vietnam, they began the A-X program, which resulted in the selection of the Fairchild-Republic A-10 as the USAF's next CAS aircraft.  It boggles the mind that the final example of the 715 A-10's built left Fairchild's Hagerstown, Maryland facility in 1984--40 years ago.  The venerable Hawg, the airplane the generals didn't want (until it proved itself, then they only wanted it when it was convenient because it wasn't a sexy, pointy-nosed, speed demon of an airplane) is now in the twilight of its career, sadly, but as I've said before, technology and time stand still for no man...

When the Army developed the Hughes Helicopters AH-64 Apache beginning in the early 1970's (to replace the Lockheed AH-56 Cheyenne cancelled in part to free up funding for the A-10 and AV-8 Harrier), there was some growling from the Air Force, but by then the Army was going to do what was good for the Army, Air Force arguments and the patchwork of inter-service agreements and memorandums be damned.

So, here we are. What did we learn? Intra-service rivalries are not exactly a good thing…even though the various agreements specified no overlap of assets, this is what happens. It is expensive. But is there an alternative?

In one of those “chew the rag” sessions at the hobby shop, a discussion about the various military forces around the globe started. One thing led to another, and the conversation shifted to something along the lines of, “What would happen in the U.S. if the individual branches of the military were combined into a unified force (such as the unified armed forces of Canada)?"

But that truly is another story for another time.

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Sorry to be so long, but it is a story that few people even know about. And again, if I got some of the details not quite correct, let me know.

Thanks for reading.  As always, be good to one another, and I bid you Peace.

New Year, New Stuff

New Year, New Stuff

Howdy, all! I trust you all had a safe, healthy, and happy holiday.

We’re looking forward to the New Year. With a New Year comes new promise, new adventures, and new things to get done.

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Speaking of getting things done, I am on the closing stretch on the trio of Vermont ANG F-16C’s. The paint is done, the decals are on, and I’ve begin final assembly. I still need to do the bases, and the in-flight model will take a little more work than normal since I have configured the landing gear to be shown in-transit. It should be a cool display…

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On the “New Toy” front, I finally pulled the trigger and bought a Silhouette Cameo 4 at the beginning of December. I should have some time soon to get the beast set up and running. The intended purpose of the machine is to cut paint masks and stencils, but it can do so much more–creating styrene parts (one reason I opted for the Cameo over the Portrait), making vinyl stickers for displays, etc. Stay tuned…

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Speaking of New Stuff, here’s something I’ve been meaning to share for a while. Once the F-16’s are done, I’ll be starting a new project, and I thought it would be fun if I shared how I plan my projects. Not all of them go into this depth of research, but this should give you an idea how I do things (note, this is how I do things—your mileage may vary). Without further fanfare, here’s the dope...

Subject: A-10A, S/N 73-1669, C/N A10-0006
Time/Date: 8 June 1978
Place: Edwards AFB

The project will be to replicate the ejection of then-MAJ Francis C. “Rusty” Gideon, Jr. from the sixth preproduction A-10A when a gun propellant test caused a double engine flameout after a secondary gun gas ignition event robbed them of oxygen.

I want to show the airplane in flight, the canopy jettisoned, and the seat just starting to come out of the cockpit. So, that means that I won’t have to worry about detailing the landing gear wells or the cockpit.

So, where would you start?

I usually begin with the subject and drill down into the data. The basics usually result in the brief summation I started with above—What, Where, and When, and what configuration I want to display.

Next, I start to drill down into the available references. What are the particulars of the subject? Is this something I can do with an existing kit or kits, or will I need to do some scratchbuilding? If it can be done from a kit, which kit best fills the need? What modifications do I need to make to show it in the configuration I want to display? What about additional details? What do I need to know about the colors and markings?

Let’s look at these one at a time. We’ll start with the particulars…

First, you should note that several well-traveled internet sites refer to the preproduction A-10A’s (serial numbers 73-1663 through 73-1669) as a YA-10’s. This is incorrect—there were only two YA-10’s built, 71-1369 and 71-1370. These were the two airplanes that were in the “fly-off” for the A-X contract against the Northrop (note spelling—there’s no “u” in that word!) YA-9’s. These two also participated in the later “fly-off’ between the A-7 and the A-10. The two YA-10’s were quite a bit different from both the preproduction and production A-10A’s.

Here are the key things to consider:

• Ejection Seat: The A-10 was originally built with the Douglas 1E9 ESCAPAC ejection seat. Incidentally, events such as this one hastened the conversion from ESCAPAC to ACES II across the A-10 fleet.
  

• Leading edge slats, Ventral Strakes, and Trailing Edge Fairing: The YA-10’s had some issues with wing buffeting at high angles of attack (AoA, or “alpha”), particularly when the gun was fired. To combat this, leading edge slats were installed on the inboard section of the wings between the fuselage and landing gear sponsons, ventral strakes were added to the fuselage where the wing joined the fuselage, and a wing-to-fuselage fairing at the trailing edge junction. All the preproduction airplanes were so fitted.
  

• Flap guides: The original design for the YA-10 allowed the flaps to extend 40 degrees. The flap travel was later limited to 30 degrees on the preproduction ships, and finally limited to a maximum of 20 degrees on the production aircraft. The flap guides—those rails on the underside of the wings at the ends of the flaps—were altered accordingly. 73-1669, being a preproduction aircraft, was limited to 30 degrees.
  

• Gun: The YA-10’s were initially fitted with an M61 20mm Vulcan cannon because the GAU-8/A Avenger was still being developed. All the preproduction airframes had the Avenger from the outset, with the perforated sleeve at the muzzle end. The aft facing scoops covering the gun gas purge slots and fan were not present on the preproduction airplanes.
  

• Chaff/Flare dispensers: Chaff and flare dispensers were not initially fitted to the preproduction or early production airframes (think early DM or MB A-10’s in the various camouflage schemes before Euro I was standardized), they used pods instead. The production aircraft were fitted with streamlined boxes under the wingtip turndowns and the underside of the aft end of the landing gear sponsons. 73-1669 did not have the dispensers at the time of the incident.

The first thing most modelers consider are “which kit?” and “what scale?” Seems logical, right? In order to do this, let’s look at the data. We know we want to build a preproduction A-10A. Are there any kits out there that fill this bill?

The answer is yes: Monogram and Hasegawa in 1/72nd scale, and Tamiya and Revell in 1/48th scale.

They’re all older kits. Monogram’s dates back to 1977, as does Tamiya’s kit. Revell’s kit originated in 1979, and was later “retired” in favor of Monogram’s plastic (circa 1986) when Revell and Monogram merged. The easy way to tell them apart is to look at the box top—if the box top shows a photograph of a built-up model, it is the original Revell plastic. If it shows box art, it is Monogram plastic.

Hasegawa’s is the youngest of the quartet, arriving in 1982.

The pros and cons: In 1/72nd scale, Monogram’s kit is nicely done except for the engine nacelles—they’re egg-shaped. You can fix them, graft nacelles from another kit onto the Monogram fuselage, or built it as is and be happy. The pilot figure in Monogram’s kit is superb. While we’re speaking of such things, it appears that Gideon was wearing the blaze orange CWU-1/P or K-2B flight suit, as opposed to the sage green standard issue suits of the day.

The initial issue of Hasegawa’s 1/72nd scale kit did not feature the chaff and flare boxes under the wingtips and sponsons, but all subsequent reissues had them. Removing them is a rather easy task, so don’t sweat it. Hasegawa kits issued in 2014 or later have started to add the additional bits (or modified parts) to depict the LASTE and more modern configurations, so these are more bits you will have to delete.

In 1/48th scale, both Tamiya and Revell’s kits are great kits for their time. The nose of the landing gear sponsons on the Tamiya kit are a little square. Also, in subsequent reissues, Tamiya added the chaff and flare dispensers, so if you get a later issue of the kit you’ll need to remove these.

The engine fans on the Revell kit sit too close to the inlet and the compressor blades turn the wrong way. I would think that any of the available resin fan sets would be a good start—they probably won’t be an exact fit, so you’ll have to exercise your modeling skills. Frankly, I wouldn’t worry about it...

If you don’t like “ancient plastic”, you certainly could backdate any of the currently available kits—any production A-10 kit can be backdated to preproduction configuration, if you want to do the work. Depending on the kit, you may need to remove the LASTE humps and bumps, use an ESCAPAC seat, and delete the scoops over the gun purge slots, delete the modern antenna fits, and installing the earlier pattern bits.

If you work in 1/32nd scale, you have one choice: Trumpeter’s 2001-vintage kit, and it will need to be backdated.

Now, let’s look at some photos. The entire ejection sequence was caught on film by the chase aircraft, so we can determine a lot from stills taken from the recordings. As with all A-10’s, the aileron trim tabs were deflected a bit (both the fixed and adjustable tabs), so a little cutting and repositioning will be in order. Also, the flaps seem to be extended to some extent, so again, you’ll need to break out the razor saw and cut the flaps loose. Unfortunately, I know of no aftermarket flap sets for the A-10 in any scale. I’ll be happy to be proven wrong on this point.

As mentioned earlier, there is really no need to go hog wild on detailing the cockpit or gear wells. So save those photoetched and resin doo-dads for a project where they will be seen.

Ordnance, too, is no concern, as the airplane wasn’t carrying any. The wing pylons on Stations 1 through 4 and 8 through 11 were fitted, but I have yet to see a good photo of the underside of the fuselage, so I’ll assume the pylons were fitted to Stations 5, 6, and 7 as well. The PAVE PENNY pylon was not installed, the photos and videos clearly show this.

Colors and markings are interesting. This was one of the early experimental paint schemes that featured a black undercoat with varying numbers of coats of white paint on top. As the white paint eroded, it resulted in a mottled gray finish. The rudders and wingtips were red.

When it comes to decals, there are a few options. In 1/48th scale, the Tamiya kit features the basic markings for 73-1669, but the camouflage color notes are vague. Microscale (the OLD Microscale) offered sheet 48-69 back in the day that featured 73-1669 and most of the other preproduction airframes.

In 1/72nd scale, Microscale’s sheet 72-313 will take care of you. You’re on your own in 1/32nd scale...

As far as goes a good guide to the interesting minefield that is early A-10A camouflage, I can’t recommend a better reference than Dana Bell’s Colors and Markings of the A-10 Warthog (C&M Vol. 24) from the folks at Detail and Scale (ISBN 0890242247). A real good photo of 1669 appears on page 7, showing how the scheme looked before the white was allowed to erode, exposing more of the black undercoat.

Likewise, Dana’s A-10 Warthog In Detail and Scale (D&S Vol. 19, ISBN 0816850305) is a good source for information.

The last consideration that needs to be made concerns the display itself. How will the airplane be suspended “in flight”? For the VTANG F-16C, I plan to use a length of acrylic rod inserted into the tailpipe of the jet and plugged into a hole in a display base. Given the airplane was depicted just taking off, this was an easy choice. But the A-10 was at 2,000 feet AGL when MAJ Gideon pulled the handles, so the acrylic rod plugged into the base might not work. I’m still in the “thinking” phase on this one.

That’s where I am on the project to date. I don’t plan to start this project until the VTANG F-16’s are complete, but I thought it would be interesting if I shared some of my methods with you.

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That’s all I have at the moment. Take care of yourselves, and be good to one another. As always, I bid you Peace.

Adventure in Moving

Howdy, all!

You may recognize the header—it was a long-time marketing slogan for the U-Haul truck rental company.  I’ve used them four times, and each one certainly was an adventure.  The most memorable event came 20 years ago…

We had moved that January, and used a small U-Haul.  Given that I’m a bit of a pack-rat, and given that working at a hobby shop for credit has pluses and minuses, it took several trips in that little truck to move things from one end of the county to the other (plus a load in my pick-up truck, and another in my then-girlfriend’s car).  This one was more a pain in the ass than it was an adventure—I had a lot of stuff, and was moving from a small first-floor apartment to a third floor apartment (with no elevator), so the adventure was more on me than on U-Haul.

When I had to move again eight months later, I was better prepared for what I would need.  I had pared down a lot of the stuff that I had taking up space, and had given one of the couches away to a neighbor, but I still hedged my bets with a larger truck.  I’d rather have a little unused space than have to decide what to take and what to toss in the dumpster.

Oh, did I tell you this was happening two weeks after the September 11^th attacks?  Yeah, I guess I needed to add that excitement to the trip as well…

I reserved the truck with a pick-up of Monday, 24 September in the afternoon.  A friend dropped me off.  I went in, and they couldn’t find the reservation until one of the managers, who was covered in grease and soot, came in and told the kid behind the counter where it was.  As I walked out to the truck, the guy covered in dirt told me it had “a little crack in the exhaust manifold”.  Great.  I reminded him that I was travelling nearly 700 miles in this thing, but was assured it was quite sound and could make the trip easily.  Okay, sure, I guess.  My friend left, and told me he would be back the next morning to help me load up.

I got the truck to the apartment complex, and had to let the resident idiot know that I needed to park by the stairwell, and he that could park his Ford F-whatever, soot spewing, Deep-Stroke-diesel engined, jacked-up-suspension-and-knobby-tired penis substitution somewhere else for one night.

I spent the rest of the day finishing up with the packing.  Fortunately, we had already figured out that we would be moving in a few months when we moved in, so we left a lot of things in boxes.  The big things that needed to be packed were the kitchen and bedroom.  My girlfriend had already moved her stuff a few months earlier, which also made things a little easier.

Tuesday was loading day, and getting all that stuff down three flights of stairs was not going to be fun.  Fortunately, my friend helped me get the big stuff downstairs and into the truck without a lot of drama—gravity working for us was a great help, as opposed to when we lugged it all upstairs in February. 

The rest of the stuff was easy, and I was about home free when I, while carrying a stack of boxes, missed the last step on the last set of stairs and went tumbling to the ground.  I tried to get up, but my right ankle wasn’t having any of that.  My buddy got an ice pack, and after a few minutes I could at least stand and hobble.  We had two loads of stuff left, and we managed to get it all in the truck. 

I would be staying at my parents’ condo overnight—so I locked the truck, locked the apartment, and drove over to see the folks.  My father, after seeing me hobble about and hearing the story of how I hurt my ankle, rolled his eyes and said “Well, I guess I’ll be driving a truck tomorrow!”  Mom and I knew the act was for show—he would have loved driving that truck, and secretly hoped that I wasn’t able to do so in the morning so that he could.

I assured him that I would be perfectly able to make the trip—with the ice pack, the ankle felt fine, and there was only a little swelling.  Mom made supper, we sat up and talked about the move, and eventually we retired for the evening.

As I figured, a night of rest helped my ankle—no swelling, and it felt a little tender but I had no trouble walking on it.  I left an overnight bag at the condo.  I would be leaving my truck at the condo, so Dad drove me to the apartment to pick up the U-Haul.  It was right where I left it, and I did a quick walk around to make sure nobody had done anything stupid.  All was well, so I went back up to the apartment, had one last look around, and left the rental office a note telling them that the lady across the hall would take the couch I left in the living room.  I went to the office and dropped the keys and my final check in the mail slot.  A few minutes later, I was on the road.

As I drove down the on-ramp on to the Florida Turnpike, I heard a rather loud “thump” as if I had run over something.  I looked in the mirrors and saw nothing, and the truck was running fine.  I thought nothing of it until I turned the AC on and it was blowing warm—it was blowing cold when I picked the truck up on Monday.  Oh, well, I figured that the proverbial 2-55 air conditioning would work…

I had to stop by the avionics shop to get my tools—I left them there, since it made no sense to haul them down to the apartment only to drive right by the shop the following morning.  I grabbed the tools, loaded them into the U-Haul, and bade my colleagues farewell. 

I stopped in at the 7-11 I had visited every morning since 1995, got my Diet Coke Super Big Gulp and a few packages of nuts, and bid the guy behind the counter my goodbye.  His nametag said Fred, but I doubt that was his actual name, but he was always very nice to everyone who came into the store.  He was a showman, too.  “Step up and be the best!  A deal is a deal!”—if I heard those words once, I heard them a thousand times.  I often wonder what happened to old Fred…

I started up and navigated to the Turnpike again and set a course north.  Everything was going well (except it was a bit warm).  At Fort Pierce, I stopped in at Mickey D’s for a “real” breakfast.  I had avoided fast food for a few years, and this was the first fast food I had since I started watching what I ate.  After the breakfast burritos, I remembered why I was glad I quit eating fast food…but it was food.

At Fort Pierce, I fueled the truck and then made the switch to that great North-South artery known as I-95.  All was well until I was approaching Exit 73, the Melbourne exit.  All of a sudden, a loud “bang!” and a godawful noise started coming from under the hood.  The truck was running a little rough, and there was no smoke or other indications of a catastrophic failure, but it needed to be looked at.

These were the days before smart phones, so I found a gas station and grabbed the Yellow Pages from the phone booth (remember those?).  Whew—there was a U-Haul facility a mile away.  The truck made one hell of a noise, but I got to the facility and explained my problem.  I was told that they could look at the truck, but if it was unable to travel, I would have to unload it and load my stuff into another truck.  By myself.  Marvelous…

Fortunately, the problem was a spark plug that blew out of its bore.  Further investigation showed that the AC belt was gone (which explained the noise as I was starting the trip that morning!) and the mechanic had a hunch that the belt slapped the spark plug and damaged it.  I had my doubts about that—I think Joe Greasy Rag who rented me the truck didn’t finish something he was doing.  A new belt, a new set of plugs, and a new set of plug wires, and the U-Haul guys took it around the block.  I signed some papers and I was ready to once again hit the road.  It only delayed the trip by an hour and a half…    

“Hey, you know there’s an exhaust leak, right?”  It wouldn’t be the last time I heard someone say those words…

I passed my normal landmarks—Melbourne, Rockledge, Cocoa, Titusville, New Smyrna Beach, and Daytona Beach.  I had driven that stretch of I-95 more times than I could remember between Ft. Lauderdale and Daytona Beach while going to college and later, visiting.  After a fuel stop in Ormond Beach, I took a look around.  This was the last familiar place I would see until I came back for a visit.  As I passed Ormond Beach, I was now driving through places I had last seen in 1982, when we took a vacation trip to New Jersey.  The exits slid by--Flagler Beach, St. Augustine…and then came Jacksonville…

I had planned to pass through Jacksonville around mid-afternoon, but the delay meant I hit it at the beginning of rush hour.  I did take I-295 to skirt downtown (the western route—the eastern loop was under some construction), but that wasn’t a whole lot faster.  It took about 30 minutes to navigate around the city, and the next thing you know, I’m about to enter Georgia.  But wait—there is an Agricultural Inspection Station.  I stop.

“What’s in the truck?” 

“Oh, pretty much everything I own.” 

“Any produce?” 

“No.” 

“Okay, you can go.  By the way, do you know that truck has an exhaust leak?”

Georgia was uneventful until Savannah, but even that wasn’t as bad as Jacksonville had been.  As I crossed into South Carolina, it was past supper time.  I grabbed Mickey D’s again—it was cheap and fast.  I figured it hadn’t killed me that morning, so I could probably handle it again… 

A stop for gas—“Hey, buddy, that truck has an exhaust leak!”—and I started up again.  Now, the roads in Florida and Georgia were good.  But South Carolina?  Yeah, there was something Third World about them—rough pavement, bad patch jobs, potholes—and U-Haul trucks don’t have the softest ride to being with.  The stretch right before Walterboro was perhaps the worst—it had patches on top of the patches that only partly filled the potholes and cracked out concrete sections…

I found I-26, and made the final push through Orangeburg, Columbia, and the short ride to my destination.  On the way, I noticed road construction was going on—crews were installing cable barriers.  Cable barriers?  Yes, cable barriers.  I later found out why, but for now, I pushed on.

Of course, by the time I made it to “my” exit, it was nearing 1AM on Thursday…

I stopped at the top of the exit ramp and turned the dome light on to check my directions.  As I looked up, I noticed a SC Highway Patrol cruiser sitting in the abandoned parking lot of a former gas station across the road.  Thinking nothing of it, I turned and headed to the house—it was only a mile or so down the road off a side street. 

As I put the directional on to make my final turn, the trooper lights up the bubble gun machine.  I pulled off the road.  Mr. Trooper approached the driver’s side and his partner went around to look in the passenger window.

“Where are you headed?”

“To a house about 500 yards away.”

“We’ve been told to check out all U-Haul trucks with Arizona plates.”

“I thought they all had Arizona plates?”

“What’s in the truck?”

“Pretty much everything I own.”

“Moving?  It’s kinda late.”

“Well, the truck does say ‘Moving Adventures’”, and I described my journey.

“Oh, where are you moving from?”

“South Florida.”

“You should have left earlier!”

“I left at 7AM.  I expected to be here no later than 9PM, but stuff happens…”

I was aware that I was parked in the side yard of a house, and that the lights inside had come on.  After a few minutes of looking over my license and the rental contract, Super Trooper decides I’m not a terrorist and that he has to look elsewhere for his major felony arrest.

“Okay, I guess you’re clear to go.”

“Thank you, sir!  Have a good evening, and be safe!”

“Oh, by the way—this truck has a cracked exhaust manifold…”

“Yes, sir, I picked it up from U-Haul that way…”

I made it to the house, parked the truck, greeted my girlfriend, and went to bed.  I was tired.  And I would be unloading the truck more or less by myself in the morning, since she had to work in the morning, so it would be a busy day…

The next day, the unloading went faster and better than I thought it would.  The big items got unloaded last—we had to lug the couch in through the front door, which was an adventure, but it all got done with no real drama. 

I enjoyed the day—slightly overcast, high around 70 degrees—a far sight from the 90+ it was in Ft. Lauderdale that day.  “I could get used to this quickly”, I thought.  Another time, I may tell the story of the following January, when it snowed and I quickly realized that in South Carolina, 2 inches of snow may as well be two feet…

I washed up, then called U-Haul to get the address of the location to turn the truck in.  It was a short drive away.  I drove up, got out, and went inside. 

“I’m here to turn in a truck.”

“What truck?”

“The U-Haul I just spoke to you folks on the phone about less than five minutes ago.”

Apparently, not passing on phone messages or checking the computer was an issue with U-Haul locations.

Finally, a guy wearing greasy coveralls comes in and says, “Is that the big truck we was ‘spectin’?”

I completed the paperwork as he drove the truck around back.  As I was leaving, he came back inside.

“Hey, you know, this truck has an exhaust leak…”

The next day, we drove to Atlanta and flew to Ft. Lauderdale.  Try flying on a one-way ticket with no luggage two weeks after airliners were used to attack the country—it raised a few eyebrows, that’s for sure!

My brother picked us up and took us to my parents’.  We spent the night, and the next morning got in my little truck to repeat my Wednesday journey.  We overnighted in Ormond Beach, and then drove to Atlanta to pick up her car. 

Can I say that I-75 between I-10 and Atlanta is the most boring stretch of road I have driven in my life?  It may be better these days, but that was a long ride?  Valdosta…then forever to Tifton…and another eternity to Macon…

The route did take us past Hahira, though—we wondered if Coy and Bubba had settled their differences from the shenanigans at the Shrine Convention. 

We made Atlanta without incident and stopped at the parking lot so she could retrieve her car.  I followed her, and we drove I-20 to I-26, and headed to the house.  We had thought of stopping for supper, but we pressed on—we were both tired by this point and only wanted to get to the house.  By the time we got home, I was toast…

So that’s how I spent the week of 24-30 September 2001. 

Twenty years have passed.  I still get the same questions:

Do I regret the decision to move?

Do I miss South Florida?

The answer to both questions is a resounding “No”. 

Sure, I miss friends, but many have moved away themselves.  I miss going to my old haunts, but most of them no longer exist. 

As the saying goes, “You can never go home again.”  Amen.

Oh, and the girlfriend?  We’re still together, even though we have made four moves together.  We were married in 2009--we had been together nearly 10 years by that point. 

The next time we move, we plan on taking a page out of NASA’s book—grab the important stuff, stencil ABANDON IN PLACE on the house, and just drive away…

Thanks for reading.  Be good to one another, and, as always, I bid you Peace.

Scale Modeling—Art or Craft?

Howdy, all…

So, which is it?  Are we artists?  Craftsmen?  Neither?  Both?

Anybody who has skimmed the various online forums has seen this argument before.  A model is featured, and viewers proclaim it as “fine art”.  Others reply that modeling isn’t an art, it is craft.  Who is correct?  Is either correct?  Or is neither one correct?

Let’s see what the dictionary has to say…

Merriam-Webster has several entries for “Art”, but the one that best fits our question is “the conscious use of skill and creative imagination, especially in the production of aesthetic objects.  Also: works so produced.”

As for “Craft”, there are likewise several entries, but the one that interests us is “An occupation or trade requiring manual dexterity or artistic skill.”

Boy, that was helpful, wasn’t it.  Let’s see what that great repository for all Internet knowledge, Wikipedia, has to add…

“Art is a diverse range of human activities involving the creation of visual, auditory or performing artifacts (artworks), which express the creator's imagination, conceptual ideas, or technical skill, intended to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.”

“A craft or trade is a pastime or a profession that requires particular skills and knowledge of skilled work. In a historical sense, particularly the Middle Ages and earlier, the term is usually applied to people occupied in small-scale production of goods, or their maintenance, for example by tinkers. The traditional term craftsman is nowadays often replaced by artisan and by craftsperson.”

Hmm.  Let’s look further…

In the entry for “Art”, Wikipedia goes on the say this:  “Though there is no generally agreed definition of what constitutes art, and ideas have changed over time, general descriptions typically include an idea of imaginative or technical skill stemming from human agency and creation. The nature of art and related concepts, such as creativity and interpretation, are explored in a branch of philosophy known as aesthetics.”

Now we seem to be making headway.

What does the Great and Powerful Wiki say about “Craft”?  “Handicraft is the "traditional" main sector of the crafts, it is a type of work where useful and decorative devices are made completely by hand or by using only simple tools. Usually the term is applied to traditional means of making goods. The individual artisanship of the items is a paramount criterion; such items often have cultural and/or religious significance. Items made by mass production or machines are not handicraft goods. Handicraft goods are made with craft production processes.” 

In case you were wondering and didn’t want to click on the link, Craft production, as defined by Wikipedia, is “manufacturing by hand, with or without the aid of tools. The term ‘craft production’ describes manufacturing techniques that are used in handicraft hobbies and that were the common methods of manufacture – as in the production of pottery – in the pre-industrialized world.”

Hmm…where does *that* leave us?

Perhaps now it is time to use those guidelines and apply them to what we do.  But first, what *do* we do when we build a scale model?  I mean, all it entails is sticking plastic (and sometimes metal and resin and maybe wood) bits together, right?

Right.

As I like to point out in Model Building 101, building models is both.  Preparing and sticking the bits together is no different than building furniture—we remove parts from the runners, clean up the molding flaws, and stick them together.  A woodworker rough cuts their boards and smooths them so they are straight and square (you’ll see it referred to as “S6S”, square on six sides), then cuts them to size and assembles them.  During assembly, all joints are made to be tight, and the piece is measured again and again to ensure it is straight, square, and plumb.  If there are visible joints, they are dressed to eliminate or disguise them.  These steps are handicraft and craft production methods.

We engage in our handicraft using those same craft production methods.  Along the line, we make allowances for the artisanship of the finished model by dealing with flaws—inherent molding flaws, construction flaws, and finish flaws.  We ensure the core of our models—armor and ship hulls, aircraft fuselages, wheeled vehicle chassis—are straight, square, and plumb. These skills are more or less part and parcel of building a model for a skilled model builder.  That is the “craft” of building a model.

Where the art comes into play is with the finishing steps.  Woodworkers sometimes use carved or specially cut and/or finished trim pieces to embellish the piece they are building, and then apply a smooth finish that is complementary to the construction material—sometimes employing a clear finish to highlight the grain and figure of wood, other times using pigmented paint simply as an aesthetic step to make the piece attractive. 

Scale modelers engage in art when they apply the finish to their models, too.  We apply paint to more realistically match the colors of the actual item, or to change the color of the material the model is molded from.  From there, some modelers use various techniques to add wear and tear to the model, and/or adds the markings seen on the original that places it at a certain place and time.  The trick here is to fool the viewers’ eyes into believing that the model they are looking at is an exact copy, in miniature, of the item used as reference (and inspiration) for the process of building the model.

So, we are both “artists” and “craftsman” in my book.

But at the end of the day, does it really matter what we call ourselves?  I am fond of saying this about our hobby—there are as many ways to enjoy it as there are people enjoying it.

You do you.  The Late Al Superczynski, a long time denizen of the rec.models.scale Usenet group, contributor to “Internet Modeler’, and a fine modeler, used to say “Build what YOU like, the way YOU want to, and above all, have fun."  He was absolutely right. 

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I received a few messages on my last post concerning Robert McNamara.

First, I fully realize that there was a *lot* more to the story than what I wrote.  Entire volumes have been written about TFX alone.  This is a blog, not a fully-funded research and reference site, and my posts are aimed at people who didn’t know about these subjects before and those who would take what is there are do some legwork on their own to get the whole story.  That’s the danger with some internet articles—they don’t tell the whole story, or they can be misleading or outright incorrect.

Speaking of being misleading, it was also brought to my attention that I may have been a little unfair to the Navy’s TFX variant, the F-111B.  Perhaps I was.  So, in an attempt to atone…

The issues the Navy had with TFX were said to be that the airplane was too big and too heavy to operate off the decks of the carriers.  But if you read the accounts made during the F-111B’s early sea trials, it doesn’t seem to be the case.  Without trying to re-write what has already been written, I’m going to direct you to Tommy Thomason’s excellent blog, “Tailhook Topics” and his entries on the F-111B, starting with this one:  http://thanlont.blogspot.com/2009/03/f-111b-carrier-trials.html . 

As for the “too big and too heavy”, here’s Tommy’s piece that compares the F-111B and its eventual replacement, the F-14A:  http://thanlont.blogspot.com/2011/01/f-111b-versus-f-14a-one-more-time.html.

So, it appears that the airplane was capable of the job.  Tommy points out two pertinent points in the second link, however—first, the Hughes radar and missile system development was a few years behind the development of the aircraft, so had the F-111B had gone into full production it would have been initially without the AN/AWG-9 and the Phoenix missiles.  It was another case of desire outstripping technology—similar issues plagued the Convair F-102, a supersonic interceptor that couldn’t break Mach 1.0 in its original form.  It took application of newly formulated aerodynamic data and a redesign of the fuselage to make it barely supersonic.  All the while, the fire control system development was fraught with issues, and these issues led to not only the Convair F-106, but also the McDonnell F-101B interceptor version of the Voodoo.

The second point Tommy makes is that the Navy was wise to unburden itself from TFX, since the airplane they would have received (like the airplane the USAF *did* receive) was compromised by trying to accommodate both the Fleet Air Defense and low-level supersonic interdiction missions with the same airplane—it just so happened that the airplane performed the Air Force’s mission better.  That should have surprised nobody, since TFX started as a USAF project that was being adapted to also fit the Navy’s mission.

While there were deficiencies with the Tomcat as well, there were other facets of the F-14A program that made it a better fit for the Navy.  Plus, it was supported by the Navy’s mid-level commanders, unlike TFX.  In short, TFX suffered in the Navy due to the NIH (Not Invented Here) theory—the Navy had previously held full dominion on the design and production of their weapons systems, and TFX took that away because it was a system dictated to the Navy by the Pentagon and managed by the USAF.

And yeah, I’m sure I probably missed a few items.  Again, if you want to know more, go dig.  The information is out there…

And if you have an interest in the F-111B (or any other Naval Aviation subject, for that matter) and have not read Tommy’s blog, you really should.  In addition to “Tailhook Topics” there is a sister blog, “U.S. Navy Aircraft History”.  Check them both out, won’t you?

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As of right now, the South Carolina Scale Model Mega Show will go forward on the weekend of 18/19 June (Friday the 18^th is a set-up day, the show happens on Saturday).  Last week, we added the title of “2021 IPMS/USA Region 12 Regional Convention” to the show, and we’re looking forward to that.

Our contest format this year will be unlike anything IPMS or AMPS has seen on a regular basis.  We decided to move our show to more of a social event and exhibition.  We’ve combined what we think are the best aspects of the Military Miniatures Society of Illinois (MMSI) show and the AMPS scoring system.  Entrants will pay a small fee that will allow them to display as many models as will fit in a ~30 inch square space.  They can designate one of their models for judges’ evaluation and scoring, and they can select their skill level at the same time.  Two teams of two judges will evaluate and score the model, and the score earned will be used to determine if the model earns a medal.  Better still, the score sheet and written judges’ feedback will be returned to the entrant to be used to aid them in becoming a better modeler.  Medalists will be eligible for Class awards (best aircraft, etc.) and Best of Show award.  There will be several Special Awards available, too.  The best part of this format is that there will be chairs behind the displays so that the entrant can sit and talk with folks who are admiring their models, share techniques, and enjoy themselves.  We’re hoping it is a more relaxed environment where modelers can gather and admire models.  After all, that should be what the hobby is about—models not medals.   

If you’re in the area, come on by and spend some time with us.

Thanks for reading.  Until next time, be good to one another, stay safe and healthy, and as always, I bid you Peace.  

The McNamara Effect

Howdy, all, and Happy New Year!

When I have no paying work to do, most of my day is spent doing research on personal projects.  Along the way, as I gather information, I’m reminded of things that lurk in the far back corners of my mind.  Recently, I made an anniversary post on Facebook for the selection of the A-10 as the winner of the A-X competition, and as I dug, an interesting aspect of the program was brought back to mind, a smaller part of a larger theme, so to speak: the influence, either directly or indirectly, that Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara had on almost every tactical aircraft used by the U.S. military from 1961 onward.  Don’t believe me?

First, it was McNamara who pushed the USAF to adopt the Navy’s F4H-1/F-4B Phantom II made by McDonnell (later McDonnell Douglas).  McNamara was a statistician, and was obsessed with the costs of the various military programs in work when he was tapped to serve as John F. Kennedy’s Secretary of Defense.  Formerly the President of the Ford Motor Company, he had degrees in economics and an MBA.  He was one of the so-called “Whiz Kids” Kennedy brought into his Cabinet.  So, to McNamara, when the Air Force was looking for a modern fighter bomber, the fact that the Navy had an airplane he believed was suitable was enough for him. 

As it turned out, the F-4 was a good fit with the USAF.  Since the F-4 was originally designed as an attack airplane (the McDonnell AH-1), it was large enough to carry a fairly large ordnance load.  Since it was overseen by the Navy, the airplane possessed all those aspects of Naval aircraft—small, light enough to operate from a flight deck, good low-speed and high-speed performance, etc.—that made it work aboard the carriers.  With minimal changes, it was good for the Air Force, too.  In essence, it was what both services needed at the time.  Combat in Southeast Asia would eventually reveal shortcomings, but they were addressed as they became evident.

However, McNamara got lucky.  His next move wouldn’t be so good…

The Navy had been looking to add a new Fleet Air Defense (FAD) airplane to their inventory in the 1950’s.  They required an airplane with a powerful search and tracking radar that was fast and fairly maneuverable.  Given the state of aviation—especially Naval aviation—in the 1950’s, such an airplane was not in the cards.  The Navy decided, then, to have a subsonic aircraft that had enough range to fly out from the fleet and loiter, using the radar to locate potential threats and  long-range guided missiles to shoot the enemy aircraft out of the sky.  The program resulted in the proposed Douglas F6D Missileer, an aircraft similar in appearance to an enlarged F3D Skyknight, equipped with a Westinghouse AN/APQ-81 pulse-Doppler radar and carrying six Bendix AAM-N-10 Eagle missiles.   The program did not progress, the Kennedy administration cut funding for the missile and the Navy eventually lost interest in the concept—but not in a fleet defense aircraft.

Enter TFX, the Tactical Fighter, Experimental program.  The Air Force was looking for a new high-speed, low-level, all-weather interdiction/strike aircraft, and had issued General Operations Specifications for such an airplane.  McNamara believed the Navy could use the same basic airplane for their FAD needs, too—their mission had changed from the Missileer concept to a high-speed maneuverable airplane with a search/track radar system similar to that proposed by the Missilee and the Air Force’s cancelled North American XF-108 Rapier interceptor program.  Indeed, a lot of the technology proposed for the F6D and XF-108 did wind up in the TFX program—the Pratt and Whitney TF30 turbofan engine from the Missileer was modified with an afterburner, the Hughes AN/ASG-18 radar from the XF-108 was developed into the AN/AWG-9 system, and the AAM-N-11 was improved and became the AAM-N-11, later AIM-54 Phoenix, missile. 

The difference between the successful integration of the F-4 into the Air Force and the development of a single airplane intended to accomplish the disparate missions TFX was supposed to undertake was that the TFX program was initiated by and administered by the Air Force, who tended to place their preferences ahead of those of the Navy.   Anybody who has studied aviation for even a little while knows that the Navy’s requirements are much more stringent that anyone else’s—the airframe needs to be beefier, lighter, and smaller in order to operate off the carrier decks.  Other factors came into play, too.  The strike fighter didn’t need a large radar array in the nose, but the FAD did.  The size of the radar was reduced, but it was still rather large for the USAF’s liking.  In turn, the reduced size of the array reduced the effective range of the set, which didn’t please the Navy.  In short, it should have come as no surprise that the resulting TFX variant (the F-111B) for the Navy was unsuitable for carrier duty—the basic design wouldn’t allow it. 

McNamara, now fully obsessed with the concept of “commonality”, had heavily invested himself in TFX, which became apparent when he unilaterally overruled the selection committee (who chose Boeing’s design) and named General Dynamics’ design the winner based solely on the “commonality” factor—Boeing’s designs were 20% common while General Dynamics was closer to 85% common—and cost.  He believed Boeing misestimated the cost aspects of their design.  When the program ran into trouble early on, he burrowed himself deeper into it, at one time suggesting that he should be the program manager.   Because he was schooled on flow charts and statistics and not aerodynamics and tactics, he missed the bigger point—this design was not, and would never be, suitable for both roles.  In effect, the Navy toiled for nearly a decade before they were able to extract themselves from the TFX program in late 1968.

In the end, the results of the TFX program resulted in no airplanes for the Navy, and a compromised, less capable airplane for the Air Force.  It also resulted in a very expensive program that yielded five subtypes for the USAF—the F-111A, F-111D, F-111E, F-111F, and the strategic FB-111A (that was produced to replace the Convair B-58 Hustler, which McNamara ordered the USAF to retire in 1965); and the F-111C for the Royal Australian Air Force.  Each of these subtypes was different enough from the others to be less than 15% common across the fleet.  Flaws pointed out early in the program took time and resources to rectify, and rather that looking at them as a fleet-wide issue, they were addressed differently on each subtype—each had slightly different inlets, and the avionics systems varied widely between each type.  At the end of the day, the airplane the USAF received could have been so much better had it not had to make concessions for the Navy’s F-111B.

Now, some of this wasn’t directly McNamara’s fault.  The F-111 would be the first production aircraft employing a variable geometry wing, and the first to be powered by an afterburning turbofan engine.  Electronics technology, too, had been rapidly changing, so what worked one week was obsolete the next.  That’s a lot of new stuff to be placed in one package, and problems cropped up during development.  And, had he left the Air Force to develop TFX and allowed the Navy to pursue their FAD in a separate program, perhaps the results would have been different.  Without having to deal with not only the gestational issues and the inter-service requirements, who knows what would have come to pass.

Once the Navy was allowed to develop their airplane, they did succeed.  Grumman, the Navy’s contractor in the TFX program, developed their Model 303, and after they got out from under TFX, the airplane (the VFAX, later VFX, program) was developed into the F-14A Tomcat, the airplane the Navy wanted all along—more or less.  It could have been in service much earlier had Grumman not been saddled by TFX. Grumman skipped the prototype phase (no XF- or YF-14’s were built), the first examples serving as full scale development (FSD) airframes. Several aspects of the Missileer and TFX were held over and used on the F-14, those being a variable geometry wing, TF30 engines, AN/AWG-9, and Phoenix missile armament.  The radar and missile became the key parts of the Tomcat program, but the engines would plague the Tomcat throughout its life span.  Eventually, the F-14A+ (later F-14B) and F-14D received new powerplants late in the type’s service life, but for the most part, they soldiered on with the TF-30.

Incidentally, the Pratt and Whitney TF30, the bane of both the F-111 and F-14, also powered the early version of the A-7 (albeit without an afterburner)—it wasn’t until the Air Force was told to adopt the A-7 that the engine was replaced with the Allison TF41, a license built copy of the Rolls-Royce Spey.

Those are the well-know items McNamara was responsible for.  But there are more…

The USAF found out a hard, cold fact in the Vietnam War—their pointy-nosed, fast, and sexy jets were no good for close air support.  In an effort to field an airplane better suited to protecting troops in contact and fly cover for rescue missions, they were more or less obliged to refurbish Douglas A-1 Skyraiders that the Navy had retired.  Because these airplanes had already been declared obsolescent, the USAF went looking for a better solution.  McNamara wanted them to adopt either the Douglas A-4 Skyhawk or the Vought A-7 Corsair II, both in service with the Navy.  They weren’t happy—they had already had their arms twisted into operating the F-4 (which had some deficiencies that came to light in combat, notably the lack of an internal gun), they had adopted the Skyraider, and they really didn’t want another Navy airplane forced down their throats.

The USAF wanted a light attack airplane that was speedier that the A-1, A-4, or A-7 (they still hadn’t learned the lesson that speed wasn’t the end-all and be-all in the CAS mission), and could defend itself.  They began looking at the Northrop F-5 as a solution, but McNamara, with more than a little pressure from the Army (whom the Air Force forbade from fielding a fixed-wing CAS airplane of their own and only grudgingly allowed them to develop attack helicopters), told the Air Force to choose—the A-4, the A-7, or the Army got to develop their own. 

“Well, since you put it that way…”

The USAF adopted the A-7.

Since the F-111 was a compromise, and because early issues weren’t exactly shining a favorable light on the airplane, and regardless of the “F-for-fighter” designation, the F-111 could do one thing well—deliver ordnance on a target at low level and high speed, and because the air-to air-prowess of the Phantom wasn’t all it could be (even with the advent of the cannon armed F-4E), the USAF looked towards fielding a new fighter. 

Experience in Vietnam dictated a dogfighter—a fast, maneuverable, light aircraft capable of yanking and banking with the best the bad guys could send.  The program, called F-X (embodied as the McDonnell Douglas F-15), started with promise, but as the program progressed, mission creep set in.  The airplane, initially proposed with no radar, gained a system that had “look down-shoot-down” capabilities that could guide the latest air-to-air missiles the USAF had—these changes were made due to the appearance of the Soviet MiG-25.  More stuff in the airplane means the airplane weighs more.  More weight needs (prompt Tim Taylor grunts) more power, so a second engine was installed.  Another engine means more fuel.  More fuel needs more airplane to carry it, which means more weight…

Like the Tomcat, there were no XF- or YF-15’s, the program going straight to the FSD stage with the initial airframes.

A small group of men (dubbed “The Fighter Mafia”), including USAF Major John Boyd, were upset at what F-X had become, and set upon making things right.  Boyd was a Korean War F-86 pilot whose claim to fame came not on the battlefield but in the realm of energy management and aerodynamics.  He developed the “Energy-Maneuverability” Theory (or E-M), and reasoned that a pure dogfighter needed to be very light, very maneuverable, and possess an excess of power.  The Air Force brass—most of them, anyway—weren’t pleased.  They saw this new design as a threat to F-X, since there were not funds for two programs.

However, a small number of Air Force officers and Pentagon officials were watching the price tag of F-X climb higher and higher, and realized that there was no economical way for the Air Force to completely equip with the type.  They liked the idea of a “high-low mix”, where the force was mostly equipped by a smaller, lighter, and cheaper airplane, with fewer of the more expensive F-15.  The resulting offshoot was initially called F-XX, later changed to the Lightweight Fighter (LWF) program.

The LWF program resulted in two designs—the General Dynamics YF-16 and the Northrop YF-17.  After a fly-off, the YF-16 was declared the USAF’s lightweight fighter.   Of course, by the time it reached squadron service, it was made larger, with a radar, and all sorts of ordnance carriage provisions—which made it also more expensive.  So, that “high-low mix” became a “really high—sort of high” mix, but the airplane has been a global success.

The Navy was not unaffected.  The F-4 needed to be replaced in the fleet, and the F-14 wasn’t getting any younger.  Also looking for a high-low mix, the Navy evaluated the LWF contenders and chose the Northrop design, re-designated F-18, but only after it was “navalized”.  McDonnell Douglas was chosen as the partner contractor to develop the fleet F-18 (as the F/A-18, for “Fighter/Attack”, since the airplane was intended to perform the Phantom’s air-to-ground duties with the USMC) while the modified YF-17 land-based derivative was Northrop’s to sell as the F-18L.  Yeah, that deal didn’t work out too well.  Northrop sued McAir when the latter sold the F/A-18 to landlocked countries instead of recommended the F-18L.  In response, McAir sued Northrop for illegally using F/A-18 technology in their F-20 Tigershark (a single engine F-5 variant), and in the end, the cases were settled.  Northrop would be cut out of the program and McDonnell Douglas would produce the F/A-18A/B/C/D and the derivative F/A-18E and F before they merged with Boeing in 1997.

One last knock-on effect of McNamara was the USAF requirement to acquire a new CAS airplane to replace the A-7.  The USAF found that while the A-7D did well as a light attack airplane, it lacked survivability in the CAS mission.  They wanted something more suited to slugging it out down in the weeds amidst enemy ground fire.  The A-X program was set up and resulted in the Fairchild-Republic A-10A, a twin-engine, low wing airplane with a monster 30mm cannon in the nose that fired a round containing a depleted uranium (DU) spike, used for its density to punch holes in Soviet armor.  And, true to form, the DoD resisted, even putting the A-10 through another fly-off against the A-7 to “prove” that the USAF *really* needed the new airplane.  The A-10A wasn’t fast and sexy and, for a long time, it received no respect.

So, how have these weapons systems fared?  Despite some of the difficulties McNamara caused, these aircraft have performed their duties admirably.

The F-111 eventually solved its teething problems.  The F-111A, after a horrible debut in COMBAT LANCER, went back to Southeast Asia and performed admirably.  The best performer of the family was the F-111F, with a better digital avionics system and more powerful and reliable TF30-P-100 engines.  They would become a major force during Operation DESERT STORM.

In an interesting twist of fate, when the USAF went looking for an electronic warfare airplane, they decided to convert 40 or so F-111A’s to fill the role as the EF-111A.  They partnered with Grumman based on two factors—Grumman was intimately familiar with the electronic warfare suite intended for the Raven (as the new variant was officially named, called “Spark Vark” by the troops), being similar to the versions installed on Grumman’s EA-6A and EA-6B; and Grumman’s experience on the F-111B.  In this case, the program was a smooth as the TFX had been rocky for Grumman.
 

The F-111’s began to be retired in 1992 after Operation DESERT STORM, the final EF-111A retired in 1998.  The RAAF finally retired their F-111C’s in 2010.  Called “Aardvark” for most of its life, the name was officially bestowed upon the type on the day the F-111F was retired.

The F-14 Tomcat served as the Navy’s fleet defense aircraft from 1975 until it was retired in 2006.  It was, without a doubt, one of the finest interceptors ever designed.  Limited numbers are still in service in Iran, the only other nation to fly the type.  They bought 80 (and received 79) in the late 1970’s before the fall of the Shah.

The F-15 Eagle is still in service with the USAF in multiple roles.  Air Superiority, interceptor and low level interdiction (in the form of the F-15E Strike Eagle, replacing the remaining F-4’s and the F-111’s), it does the jobs well.  The fighter variants are getting long in the tooth, and in an interesting twist, the latest F-15EX variants are forming the “low” portion of a “high-low mix” with the Lockheed F-35  Lightning II Joint Strike Fighter.

The F-16 Fighting Falcon (nobody calls them that, though—Viper seems to be the most common nickname) has become the backbone of the USAF’s fighter force, and is predicted to serve for another 20 years.  It also has formed the nucleus of many allied air arms, replacing the Lockheed F-104 Starfighter in many of those air arms.  The F-16 was license built in several NATO nations, and continues to serve around the world.

The F/A-18 Hornet, likewise, is still serving the Navy, Marine Corps, and several allies.  The older A through D models (the “Legacy Hornets”) have been phased out of the fleet, and are being replaced with the F/A-18E and F/A-18F Super Hornet as a lower cost option to a navalized Lockheed F-22 Raptor.  A specialized EW version, the EA-18G Growler, is taking the role of the long retired EA-6B in the fleet.  The Marine Corps still operates the Legacy Hornets, but will replace them (and their McDonnell Douglas AV-8B Harriers) with the F-35B V/STOL version of the JSF.

The A-7 Corsair II remained with the fleet until the last two squadrons were stood down in 1991, at the end of hostilities in DESERT STORM.  The USAF sent their remaining active duty airplanes to the Air National Guard at the same time, and the ANG retired the type in 1993.  The last active A-7’s served with the Hellenic Air Force in Greece, and were retired in 2014.

The A-10A Thunderbolt II (the troops call it “Warthog”, “Hawg” for short), the Rodney Dangerfield of the USAF, finally earned respect after DESERT STORM.  On the verge of being retired in 1991, it was given a new lease on life.  Another pending retirement in 2000, and again in 2014, have been averted, and the airplane has belatedly been given several avionics upgrades to continue to fight.  A re-winging program recently concluded, and the A-10 may well serve another 15 to 20 years.

Some noise has been made about the F-35 replacing both the F-16 and the A-10.  DESERT STORM proved the F-16 was a poor CAS airplane, and apparently the USAF brass has forgotten the lesson they learned when they had to swallow first the piston-engined A-1 and then the A-7 because their fast, pointy-nosed and sexy wonder airplanes couldn’t do the job.  Ask any A-10 pilot, and they’ll tell you—only an A-10 can replace an A-10.

Speaking of the JSF, why don’t we take a look at that program as compared to TFX?

In short, the JSF, rather than being one airplane with many jobs, it became more of a family of closely related airframes—something that the F/A-18 and F-18L were envisioned to be.  The land-based F-35A, the V/STOL F-35B, and ship-based F-35C look alike from a distance, but closer examination shows them to be different in key areas.  Whether or not the program is a success remains to be seen, but any other comparisons to TFX would be misguided.

More than any other Secretary of Defense, McNamara loomed large for several decades after his retirement in 1968.  Of course, he wasn’t the only SecDef to have their fingerprints on military programs that weren’t what they were advertised to be—several of his predecessors were in charge of programs like the advanced manned interceptor programs that resulted in the Convair F-102 and F-106, and McDonnell F-101B.  Technology played a large role in these difficulties, and, like the Missileer and TFX, they depended on a lot of new technology not only working properly, but working together at the same time. 

There are modern versions of this story, too—take a look at the Rockwell B-1B as but one of those stories.  But those are different stories for another day.

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When I’m not researching or building models—I’m engaged in Phantoms #2 and #3 of a three-airplane project—I’m usually half-watching TV, since I have it on as background noise to aid my fight with tinnitus—it kills the ringing somewhat. 

One of my favorite shows to watch is “Kids Baking Championship” on The Food Network (with re-runs on Cooking Channel). 

Why?

For starters, these kids know far more about baking at 8, 10, or 12 years old than I do in my fifties.  I started to find my way around a kitchen when I was 7 or 8 years old, including helping to bake the Christmas goodies.  In all that time, I have never made sablée, macarons, or lemon curd, yet here these kids are, merrily whipping them up in the kitchen.  I am amazed at their knowledge at such a young age.

Next, although it is a competition, it isn’t as cutthroat as some of the cooking shows are.  Starting from an early episode, when one baker helped another, the kids genuinely care about each other.  I don’t believe I’ve seen a season where one of the kids starts to break down after having trouble when another doesn’t step over to lend a hand.  From some of the “Behind the Scenes” shows, these kids become fast friends.

Finally, there is one element that makes the show.  Indeed, if it weren’t there, the show wouldn’t hold the same charm.  I’m speaking, of course, about the hosts/judges, Duff Goldman (of Charm City Cakes) and Valerie Bertinelli (if I have to tell you who she is, you’ve got issues).  They make the show what is is simply because of who they are—Valerie (aka "Wolfie's Mom") is the quintessential mom, and Duff is a 46-year old kid.  Watching one episode recently, one of the kids starts to cry when things aren’t going how they should.  Duff was there talking to the baker, trying to pep her up, and when she started crying he motioned for Val—“This is a Val moment, not a Duff moment”, he said.  And he was right—she has a mother’s touch, and she handles those moments well.

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In other TV news, the NHL is back in action, and the IMSA season starts this weekend with the Roar Before the 24… 

My beloved Florida Panthers had their first two games of the 2021 season postponed because their opponents, the Dallas Stars, had several members test positive for COVID-19.  They got their season off to a belated start by beating the Chicago Blackhawks twice.  I’ll have to get used to the 2021 Division realignment that moves Florida to the Central Division, but it ought to be fun.  Of course, I miss the normal rivalries, but the fact that we even have hockey means I can live with the realignment.

In IMSA, my two favorite drivers are back in action after nearly a year on the sidelines.  Katherine Legge, who broke her leg last year in an ELMS practice, has recovered from her injuries, and she and her Meyer Shank Racing and GEAR Racing co-driver, Christina Nielsen, have been tapped to co-drive the Hardpoint EBM Porsche 911 GT3 R alongside Earl Bamber and Rob Ferriol—and the team may add a second car for Katherine and Christina so they can run the rest of the season.  Well done, ladies!  Looking forward to much success!

While we're speaking of ladies in motorsport, Simona DeSilvestro has been named to drive the Paretta Racing car in the Indy 500, and Pippa Mann will drive in the WS Racing Girls Only Audi R8, and is heavily involved with Shift Up Now team. 

Now, if only Pippa and Katherine could get an IndyCar ride for the 500...

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Oh, yeah—“The Blacklist” returns on Friday, too.  They began the season last fall with a handful of episodes (probably the final episodes intended for last season before the pandemic shut production down), and now we’ll get to see to what ends Elizabeth goes in order to get back at Reddington after he killed her mother, Katarina.  It took me a while to get into this show, but James Spader's creepy portrayal of Reddington is spot on and keeps things interesting.

Thanks for reading.  Stay healthy, wear a mask, and be good to one another.  As always, I bid you Peace.     

Phun with Phantoms

This article is part of a series of articles I've been working on lately.  Again, the Technical Writer in me lives for this sort of thing, so it gets a bit, well, technical... 

This article was previously published in the October 2020 issue of the IPMS/Mid-Carolina Newsflash.  Incidentally, you may view our club's newsletters on our website.

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“Never forget that, at the most, the teacher can give you fifteen percent of the art. The rest you have to get for yourself through practice and hard work. I can show you the path but I cannot walk it for you.” -- Kung Fu Master Tan Soh Tin

The Short Form Scale Modeler’s Guide to the F-4 Phantom II

I’ve embarked on several F-4 projects lately.  When I started talking about my plans with some folks, I got a lot of questions about the F-4 in general.  Every question I answered spawned three more questions.  Since there have been dozens (literally!) of volumes written about the F-4, this short guide will serve only to point you in the right direction for your F-4 project.  You are encouraged to use this as a stepping stone for your own research.  And, as always, if you see something in error, leave a comment.  I'm not so proud to admit I make mistakes...

Origins

The McDonnell Douglas F-4 Phantom II (initially the McDonnell XF4H-1) was originally designed as the XAH-1, a single seat attack fighter for the U.S. Navy.  A development of their earlier F3H Demon, the McDonnell Aircraft Company started with an enlarged twin-engine aircraft based on the F3H Demon—Wright J65’s or General Electric J79’s were the proposed powerplants.  At the time, the Navy passed—they had the F9F Cougar and F8U Cutlass fighters, and were starting to use the Douglas A4D Skyhawk in the ground attack role. 

McDonnell redesigned the airplane to be a supersonic fleet defense interceptor.  They chose the J79 afterburning turbojet engines to propel the aircraft.  A second crew member was added, McDonnell correctly surmising that the extra crew member would help shoulder some of the information load that came with modern military aviation.  The Navy ordered two prototypes on 25 July 1955, and the first flight of the XF4H-1 was on 27 May 1958. 

Initially, the type was to be named “Satan” or “Mithras”, keeping with the company’s penchant for using the names of supernatural apparitions for their airplanes (previous examples being the XF-85 Goblin, FH Phantom, F2H Banshee, and F3H Demon).  The proposed names were passed over in favor of “Phantom II”.  When the type initially entered USAF service as the F-110A, it was named “Spectre”, but the name was short-lived.  In 1962, the type was designated F-4 Phantom II under the Tri-Service Designation system.  The USAF’s F-110A became the F-4C after the initial XF4H-1 and F4H-1F’s became F-4A and the later F4H-1’s became the F-4B.

5,195 examples were produced, including 138 license-built aircraft in Japan.  They were used by Australia (24 new F-4E’s on lease while problems with the F-111C were being ironed out), Egypt (ex-USAF F-4E), Germany (new F-4F and RF-4E), Greece (new and ex-USAF F-4E and new RF-4E), Iran (new F-4D, F-4E, and RF-4E), Israel (new and ex-USAF F-4E and new RF-4E), Japan (new F-4EJ, including 138 built by Mitsubishi Heavy Industries, and new RF-4E), South Korea (ex-USAF F-4D and new and ex-USAF F-4E), Spain (ex-USAF F-4C and RF-4C), Turkey (new and ex-USAF F-4E and new RF-4E), and the United Kingdom (new F-4K/FG.1, F-4M/FGR.2, and ex-USN/USMC F-4J).

The last St. Louis-built F-4 (an F-4E bound for South Korea) rolled out of McDonnell’s plant in 1979; the last ever Phantom II built (an F-4EJ) came off the Mitsubishi Heavy Industries production line in 1981.  Some are still in limited use today.  How’s that for longevity?

The Phantom Phamily

F-4A:               A retroactive post-1962 designation for the XF4H-1/F4H-1F prototypes.

F-4B:               Initial production model for the USN/USMC, formerly the F4H-1.

F-4C:               Minimum change F-4B for the USAF with 11.5” wide main gear and bulged wing.

F-4D:               F-4C with improved air-to-ground capability.

F-4E:               Added internal M61A1 Vulcan cannon in an elongated nose for the USAF.

F-4EJ:             Lightweight F-4E with simpler avionics for the Japanese Air Self Defense Force.

F-4EJ Kai:      Updated F-4EJ with new avionics and structural upgrades.

F-4F:               Lightweight F-4E for Germany with slatted wings.  No AIM-7 Sparrow capability.

F-4F ICE:        Updated F-4F with AIM-120 AMRAAM capability.

F-4G (USN):   Converted F-4B with datalink carrier autolanding system. 

F-4G (USAF): F-4E modified for the SEAD (“Wild Weasel”) mission (“Wild Weasel V”).

F-4J:               “Navalized” F-4C with the wider wheels/tires and updated avionics.

F-4K:               RR Spey-powered F-4J built for the Royal Navy, designated FG.1.

F-4M:              RR Spey-powered F-4J built for the Royal Air Force, designated FGR.2.

F-4N:               Updated F-4B’s with new avionics and structural changes.

F-4S:               Updated F-4J with new avionics and a slatted wing similar that of the F-4E.

RF-4B:            “Navalized” RF-4C for the USMC.  Most retained thin wheels/wing of the F-4B.

RF-4C:            Reconnaissance version of the F-4C for the USAF.

RF-4E:            Export RF-4 variant; hard-wing F-4E with RF-4C nose.

RF-4EJ Kai:   JASDF recon versions, two distinct aircraft configurations.  See notes. 

THE CHART OF PHANTOM PHEATURES

The major visible distinguishing features of the Phantom subtypes are the main landing gear, the wing, the stabilators, the afterburners, the nose, and aerial refueling method.

Main Landing Gear:  The F-4B, N, and RF-4B used a 7.7” wide main landing gear wheel and tire.  All other F-4 subtypes used an 11.5” wide main wheel and tire, necessitating the addition of a bulge in the inboard wing over and under the main landing gear wells and on the doors.  The F-4B/N and RF-4B wing was known as thin wing airplanes, the rest were called thick- or bulged wing airplanes.  The nose gear struts were different between the ship-based (F-4B/N, RF-4B, F-4J/S, and the FG.1) and land-based versions.  The U.S. ship-based versions could extend 20 inches for launch, while the FG.1 strut could extend 40 inches.

Wing:  Initially, the wing had leading and trailing edge flaps, and was called the “Hard” wing.  Beginning with the Block 48 F-4E’s, the leading edge flaps were deleted and leading edge slats replaced them.  Earlier surviving F-4E’s were retrofitted.  A similar (but not identical!) slatted wing was installed on the F-4S, a conversion of the F-4J.

Stabilators:  The first production stabilators had a solid, cambered leading edge.  The stabilators later received a cambered leading edge with aerodynamic slots that increased pitch authority in the low-speed regimes.  Initially installed on the F-4J as part of an approach speed lift improvement program, the slotted stabilator was used on all further shipboard versions as well as some of the land-based Phantoms.    

Afterburners:  The F-4B/N, RF-4B, RF-4C, and F-4C/D used short exhaust nozzles (J79-GE-8 and -15 engines).  All other J79 powered F-4’s used a longer exhaust (J79-GE-10 and -17).  The British Phantoms (FG.1 and FGR.2) used the Rolls Royce Spey (RB.168 Mk.202) turbofan engine, and had a larger exhaust nozzle that was smooth on the outside.

Nose: The F-4B/N, F-4C/D, F-4J/S, and the British Phantoms had a short nose housing a radar unit.  The F-4B/N and F-4C/D had a fairing for an infrared sensor under the nose.  This fairing was deleted on the F-4J/S and British versions.

The F-4E/EJ/F had an elongated radar nose with an under slung General Electric M61A1 Vulcan rotary 20mm cannon and 640 rounds of ammunition.  There was a gun gas purge scoop in front of the windscreen that was open on the ground and whenever the gun was fired.  The USAF F-4G had the gun removed and a sensor fairing installed where the gun’s muzzle was located as part of the Suppression of Enemy Air Defense (SEAD, or “Wild Weasel”) avionics package. 

The reconnaissance variants had an elongated nose full of cameras and other equipment.  There were two common designs for the recon nose—an earlier, flat bottomed angular nose and later, a curved bottom nose.  Consult photographs of the airplane you are interested in to determine which was fitted to that airplane. 

The environmental control system inlets on the long nose and reconnaissance airplanes were different from those on the short nose F-4’s, the earlier ones being smaller and more symmetrical. 

Aerial refueling method:  The USAF versions and their derivatives had a high-speed flying boom refueling receptacle on the spine; all others had a Probe and Drogue aerial refueling system with a retractable refueling probe on the right hand side of the forward fuselage.

Type (Initial Operator)	MLG	Wing	Stab	Exhaust	Nose	Refuel
XF4H-1/F-4A (USN)1	7.7”	Hard	Unslotted1	Short	Short1	Probe
F-4B (USN/USMC)	7.7”	Hard	Unslotted2	Short	Short, IR	Probe
RF-4B (USMC)	7.7”3	Hard	Slotted	Short	Recon	Probe
F-4C (USAF)	11.5”	Hard	Unslotted	Short	Short, IR4	Boom
RF-4C (USAF)	11.5”	Hard	Unslotted	Short	Recon5	Boom
F-4D (USAF)	11.5”	Hard	Unslotted	Short	Short, IR4	Boom
F-4E (USAF)	11.5”	Hard6	Slotted7	Long	Long	Boom8
F-4EJ (JASDF)9	11.5”	Hard	Slotted	Long	Long	None9
F-4EJ Kai* (JASDF)10	11.5”	Hard	Slotted	Long	Long	None
RF-4E (Luftwaffe)	11.5”	Hard11	Slotted	Long	Recon	Boom
RF-4EJ Kai* (JASDF)12	11.5”	Hard	Slotted	Long	Long	Boom
F-4F (Luftwaffe)13	11.5”	Slatted	Unslotted	Long	Long	None13
F-4G* (USN)14	7.7”	Slatted	Unslotted	Short	Short, IR	Probe
F-4G* (USAF)14	11.5”	Slatted	Slotted	Long	Long	Boom
F-4J (USN/USMC)	11.5”	Hard15	Slotted	Long16	Short16	Probe
F-4J(UK)* (RAF)17	11.5”	Hard	Slotted	Long	Short	Probe
F-4K (RN) (as FG.1)18	11.5”	Hard	Slotted	Spey	Short19	Probe
F-4M (RAF) (as FGR.2)	11.5”	Hard	Unslotted	Spey	Short19	Probe
F-4N* (USN/USMC)20	7.7”	Hard	Slotted	Short	Short, IR	Probe
F-4S* (USN/USMC)21	11.5”	Slatted	Slotted	Long	Short	Probe

* = Conversion, no new airframes built

Keyed Notes:

1. The XF4H-1 aircraft had different inlets, intake ramps, stabilators, and noses than the production variants.  Additionally, the early airframes had a flatter canopy profile.
2. Some F-4B’s would be retrofitted with the slotted stabilator late in their service life.
3. The last 10 production RF-4B’s had the wider 11.5” main landing gear and thick wing.  The last three had the rounded reconnaissance nose.
4. The IR sensor was not fitted to the F-4C or F-4D, but the empty fairing remained.
5. Consult photographs to determine which nose was fitted to a particular airplane. 
6. The F-4E received slatted wings with a thicker lower wing skin from Block 48.  Earlier surviving F-4E’s (except the Thunderbirds aircraft) were retrofitted with the slatted wing and a lower wing skin stiffener called a “belly strap”.
7. In 1972, F-4E stabilators had an arrowhead-shaped doubler installed mid-span.  Later, all surviving USAF F-4’s received this modification.  Photos exist of USN F-4’s with these, but it was the exception rather than the norm.
8. Some Israeli F-4E’s had a locally fabricated refueling probe fitted.
9. The F-4EJ was a lightweight version of the F-4E with simpler avionics and no aerial refueling equipment built for the Japan Air Self Defense Force.  All but 2 of the 140 were built in Japan by Mitsubishi Heavy Industries.
10. The F-4EJ Kai was an updated F-4EJ, with structural modifications and new avionics.  The biggest visual cue is a series of external stiffeners on the radome. 
11. The RF-4E is basically a hard-wing, slotted stabilator F-4E fitted with an RF-4C nose.  The last two production blocks of the RF-4E for Greece and Turkey had the slatted wing. 
12. There are two distinct aircraft called RF-4EJ Kai.  The first is an upgraded RF-4E; the latter is an F-4EJ (non-Kai) modified to carry reconnaissance pods.
13. The F-4F was a lightweight version of the F-4E built for the West German Luftwaffe.  It lacked aerial refueling and AIM-7 Sparrow capability.  The ICE (Increased Combat Effectivity) program in 1989 upgraded 110 of these aircraft with AIM-120 capability and other improvements including high-speed boom aerial refueling.
14. The original F-4G’s were USN F-4B’s equipped with experimental automatic carrier landing systems.  Once the test period was over, they were converted back to F-4B’s, although some of the equipment remained installed.  The later USAF aircraft designated F-4G were converted F-4E’s optimized for the Suppression of Enemy Air Defense (SEAD), or "Wild Weasel", mission under Program WILD WEASEL V.
15. The F-4J had the inboard flap deleted as part of the approach speed lift improvement program that also added the slotted stabilators.  This also added a feature where the ailerons were drooped 16.5° when the landing gear and flaps were extended.
16.  The first F-4J’s were delivered without radar—ballast was installed instead.  They also had the J79-GE-8 engines featuring the shorter exhaust nozzles. The airplanes went to the Blue Angels and would retain the -8 engines for their service life.
17. The F-4J(UK) airplanes were 15 ex-USN/USMC F-4J’s bought by the Royal Air Force in 1984.  These were taken through the same SLEP that converted F-4J’s to F-4S’s with the exception of the slatted wing.  American avionics were removed and British avionics were installed.
18. The FG.1 had a double-extendable nose strut for takeoffs from the shorter decks of the British carrier HMS Ark Royal.  Along with that, a stabilator trim indication quadrant was painted on the left side of the tail for the deck crew to tell if the takeoff trim was set correctly.  As these airplanes transferred to the RAF, this was generally removed, but the double-extendable nose strut remained.
19. The F-4K and F-4M (FG.1 and FGR.2) were aircraft based on the U.S. Navy’s F-4J but built with Rolls Royce Spey afterburning turbofan engines.  As a result, the inlets were wider, the aft fuselage was wider and deeper, and the exhausts were different.  Many would have the belly strap installed at some point in their service life. 
20. The F-4N was an updated F-4B with the aerodynamic approach speed lift improvements of the F-4J and updated avionics.  The inboard leading edge flap was deactivated and locked closed.
21. The F-4S was an upgraded F-4J with updated avionics, a slatted wing and a belly strap similar to that of the early F-4E’s was installed, and other minor changes such as low intensity formation (“slime”) lights.  The outboard slats were not identical to the USAF versions.

Additional Notes, Ephemera, Useless Trivia, and Other Geek Stuff

The ship-based Phantoms (F-4B/N, F-4J/S, RF-4B, and the FG.1/FGR.2) did not have flight controls in the rear cockpit.  There was a pedestal with a radar controller joystick located where a control stick would be.  The right side of the cockpit was a vertical panel—there was no console on the left side of the rear cockpit of the ship-based Phantoms because that area is where the refueling probe well is located.  The console on the left side was abbreviated compared to the land-based F-4’s, too.

Some F-4C’s (in the 1966-1967 time frame) did not have the IR fairing under the radome, these “dorkless” radomes were installed while the original radomes were being modified with the AN/APR-25 RHAW system antennas on the empty IR fairing.  Check your references!

Late in their service lives, the USN/USMC F-4’s received an AN/ALQ-126 Defensive ECM system featuring antenna fairings on the inlet shoulders, under the inlets and under the wings (the B/N inlet fairing cable guides were about twice the length of those on the F-4J/S).  The shoulder fairings remained on the F-4J(UK) but were empty.

Ship-based versions had catapult bridle hooks installed in shallow depressions under the forward fuselage at the wing leading edge.  The land-based versions did not, and a flat panel covered the area.  The F-4J(UK) had the hooks removed but the depressions remained. 

The ship-based airplanes received up-rated main landing gear struts installed.  In the case of the USN/USMC aircraft, the main struts had a long-stroke oleo; the British struts were capable of landing at higher gross weights.  A rounded rectangular clearance blister was installed on top of the wing over the pivot points as a result.  USAF airplanes (and their derivatives) did not have this small blister.

Block 48 and newer F-4E’s were TISEO (Target Instrument System, Electro-Optical) capable.  The Northrop AN/ASX-1 TISEO consisted of a cylindrical fairing on the inboard left wing root that housed a camera used to visually acquire and track targets.  The image was displayed on the WSO’s radar display.  TISEO could also be retrofitted to earlier aircraft. 

There were several styles of gun muzzle fairing for the F-4E that were developed over the years.  The initial muzzle fairing was a short fairing that caused gun gas ingestion problems for the engines.  A longer unit, called MIDAS 4, was the definitive muzzle fairing and became standard with the Block 48 airplanes.

Late in life, some F-4E’s, F-4G’s, and RF-4C’s received the ARN-101 digital avionics modification.  The visual indication was a trapezoidal antenna on the spine of the airplane and a lot of static wicks sprouting from various parts of the airframe.

There was a difference in inboard wing pylons.  The ship-board variants (as well as early F-4C’s, RF-4B’s, and most RF-4C’s) used LAU-17/A’s with adapters; USAF used a MAU-12 rack in the weapons pylon.  You can tell one from another easily—the LAU-17/A has a straight leading edge while the MAU-12 pylon has a curved leading edge.  Either could be fitted with a pair of Aero 3A Sidewinder rail adapters on the sides of the launcher/pylon. 

There were several types of 370-gallon underwing tanks made by McDonnell, Sargent Fletcher, and Royal Jet.  The Sargent Fletcher was the prevalent type used—it can be identified by the single flange on the left side of the tank at the five o’clock position (when viewed from the front).

Royal Jet’s 600-gallon centerline tank could be distinguished by the angled sway brackets aft and the nose-down attitude when fitted.  Later, the USAF (but not the USN/USMC) would adapt the 600-gallon tank used by the F-15 for use on the F-4 centerline station.  It had a single sway bracket aft and was mounted level.  It also caused less of a drag penalty.

Other variants you might see mentioned in your travels:

EF-4B and EF-4J:  ECM aircraft used for training.

EF-4C and EF-4D:  Early SEAD fits under Program WILD WEASEL IV.

F-4 “Agile Eagle”:  Testbeds to explore the use of maneuvering slats for the F-15; the information gained led to the slatted wing modifications for the F-4.

F-4E(S):  Three Israeli hard-wing F-4E’s with an elongated nose housing a General Dynamics HIAC-1 LOROP (LOng Range Oblique Photography) camera with a 66-inch focal length lens for high-speed, high altitude reconnaissance.  Offshoot of the PEACE JACK program.

F-4(FBW)/F-4 PACT/F-4 CCV:  The YRF-4C reconfigured for (variously) fly-by-wire and canard controlled vehicle testing.

DF-4J:  Drone controller aircraft.

F-4X: Highly modified with new inlets, water injection (pre-compression cooling or PCC) conformal tanks, and elongated nose housing the HIAC-1.  Remarkable because the HIAC-1 had previously only been flown aboard USAF RB-57D’s and in bulky centerline pods on RF-4C’s.  Part of the PEACE JACK program.

Super Phantom:  Proposed Boeing-led upgrade to replace the J79’s with PW1120 afterburning turbofans, under-fuselage conformal fuel tank, and new avionics.  Some of these changes were also projected to be used by the Kurnass 2000 program in Israel, but were not.

Kurnass 2000:  Israel modified some of their F-4E’s with new avionics and capability to use the Rafael Popeye (aka the AGM-142) standoff missile.  Some of this same technology would be used to update some of the Turkish F-4E’s as well.

QF-4B/QRF-4C/QF-4E/QF-4G/QF-4N/QF-4S:  Aircraft converted to remotely piloted target drones.

The PEACE JACK, F-4X, and Super Phantom programs were designed to increase the altitude and speed performance of the F-4, and were cancelled because they would either draw sales away from new aircraft (primarily the McAir F-15 and F/A-18) or allow other nations to have reconnaissance capabilities approaching that of the Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird.

So, what about kits?

Choosing the “best” model kit of any subject is a minefield.  As with all things related to plastic models, one’s opinion of  the “best” kit of any subject can be highly subjective due to several factors, not the least being price, ease of assembly, and the level and fidelity of detail included.  Because of that, I’ll attempt only to tell you about the kits.  What you see is either a collection of what I’ve collected via as many reviews of a particular kit that I can find or personal experience.  I’ll let you decide which one is the “best” for your personal needs…

For more information on release dates, timelines, and re-boxings, the best resource to use is Scalemates.

1/32 Scale

Tamiya’s lineup of large-scale Phantoms is good, but not totally great.  Starting in 1995 with an F-4C/D, they have also made the F-4J and a hard-wing F-4E.  They represented several maintenance panels as raised panels, and these stand a little bit too proud of the surface, so a touch of sanding is warranted if this bothers you.  The exhausts are also a touch too small, so you might want to secure replacements.  The gun-nose kits include both muzzle fairings.

Starting in 1995, Revell also made new-tool kits of the RF-4E, F-4F, RF-4C, F-4E, and an F-4G.  The newer Revell kits are almost as good as the Tamiya kits--almost.  Revell’s F-4E/F nose is a bit skinny and too pointy (you’ll see this claim again), the nose strut is anemic, and the cockpit detail is not as good as that of the Tamiya kit.  Revell’s long nose versions include a slatted wing.

There is a big difference in price, too—Revell’s kits initially retailed for $30 while Tamiya’s MSRP was around $100.  Only you can decide if the extra dough spent is worth it.

If you want a thin-wing Phantom in 1/32 scale, there have been a few aftermarket conversions available from Real Model, GT Resin, and Cutting Edge.

Revell had kits of the F-4J and F-4E (also released as an RF-4E, F-4F, and RF-4B) in the 1970’s and are best left to the collectors and nostalgia folks.   

1/48 scale

The most recent kits of the F-4 are the Zoukei-Mura kits initially released in 2016.  There’s been some grousing online about an incorrect contour in the aft fuselage at the exhausts, and they aren’t cheap ($75 a pop from most retailers).  But they have been deemed superb kits by all who have built them, and they do represent the state-of-the-art in injection molding.  They’ve done the F-4C/D and F-4J/S so far, and their new F-4E kits are just starting to hit the streets, and early word says the aft fuselage on the F-4E has been corrected.  Z-M has indicated that they want to complete the series, so stay tuned.

Hasegawa’s 1/48 scale Phantom Phamily started hitting the hobby shop shelves in 1982, at the exorbitant (for the time—I remember hearing the wailing and crying!) price of $20 American.  Initially, the kits featured raised panel lines, but through the years, the earlier raised panel line kits (save for the F-4B/N and F-4C/D) have been revised to feature recessed panel lines.  The biggest drawbacks are fiddly fit around the intakes (a common ailment of all Phantom kits) and the lack of underwing stores included in the kits.  You’ll want to dip into your spares box or purchase aftermarket weapons sets.  So far, they are the only manufacturer to produce the entire F-4 series in this scale--Hasegawa offers all of the subtypes, including the slatted-wing F-4E/F and the Spey-powered FG.1 and FGR.2.  . 

Academy’s short-nose (F-4B/N, F-4C/D, and F-4J so far) kits that were released in 2012 aren’t bad—in fact, some folks like them over the Z-M and Hasegawa kits.  A few reviews say the nose and tail near the stabilators have minor shape problems and that the canopy center bridge is too wide, but it certainly looks like a Phantom when completed.  The ECS scoops have shape issues, too; fortunately there are aftermarket fixes for this.  The shape around the aft fuselage at the engine exhausts is deemed to be better than that of the Z-M kit.  Starting in 2014, Eduard re-released the Academy F-4B, F-4C, F-4J, and F-4N plastic in their Limited Edition series with resin (“Brassin”) and etched detail parts with decals designed by Furball Aero Design and printed by Cartograph.

In 1979, Monogram issued an F-4C/D kit, followed in 1981 by a “Black Bunny” F-4J of VX-4.  They have the dreaded “raised panel line” affliction that so many modelers consider deal-breakers, the USAF kits are closer to an F-4C than to an F-4D, and the cockpit isn’t quite correct for the Navy F-4J, but all in all, they were good value for the dollar.  Monogram’s take on the intakes is quite different than the other manufacturers, and it is either the best thing since bottled beer or the worst thing since New Coke, depending on personal circumstances.  The cockpit detailing in these kits is typical Monogram—the instrument panels and consoles feature relief molded details, and the seats feature all the straps and face curtain handles.  In a word, they are superb.  Many a modeler has “borrowed” a Monogram cockpit to detail other kits…

ESCI made 1/48 scale kits as F-4B/J, F-4E/F, and F-4C/D that came out 1980.  While not as detailed as the Monogram kits from about the same time, they can be made into super models without a lot of work, although there are some problems.  For instance, the F-4B/J kit only has the thick wing and slotted stabilators, most likely because the decal options included the striking color scheme for “Vandy 76”, Bureau Number 153088, the VX-4 Bicentennial airplane, which was a conglomeration of an F-4J airframe, an F-4B nose, and—something ESCI missed completely—experimental fixed leading edge maneuvering slats on the wing.  The F-4E/F lacks the slatted wing (meaning you can’t build an F-4F from the kit).  Like their smaller F-4E, this one was the best until Hasegawa’s materialized a few years later—shape-wise, it was better than the Fujimi and Revell kits that preceded it.  The F-4C/D kits were a nice alternative to the Monogram kits—they were only a few bucks more and had recessed panel details.  The cockpits are rather simple, but they are passable under a closed canopy and sitting on a shelf or in a display case.  Italeri has reissued some of them, too, and you’ll see them at shows for cheap.

In addition to these kits, there are a few others in 1/48 scale:

Testors kitted the RF-4C/E and F-4E/F/G in 1980.  Their RF-4C/E didn’t have the forward Sparrow well fairings, the F-4G had some cockpit issues, and overall the detailing generally wasn’t very good.  Italeri reissues these kits from time to time.  The one thing the long nose kit had going for it is the inclusion of the slatted wing, and back in the day this was the only way to get a Photo Phantom.

Aurora (no surprise) was one of the first to market with a kit of the then-F4H-1 in 1961—it is typically Aurora, and best left to the collectors. 

As mentioned in the ESCI commentary, Fujimi (in 1971, also released under the Bachmann/Fujimi and AHM/Fujimi labels) and Revell (1977) each had an F-4E (Revell’s being a slatted wing airplane), but the Revell kit had shape issues (skinny, pointy nose, canopy looks squashed) and the Fujimi kit was closer to 1/50 scale. 

Perhaps the most ambitious kit I can recall of the Phantom was made initially in 1965 by Marusan, and it was later released by UPC, Fuji, Sunny, and, finally, Entex Industries.  It too was in 1/50 scale, and included full interior details (including the engines and fuselage fuel cells), but these were not optional parts—you had to use them or re-engineer a lot of the kit.  The box advertised that you could build it as a B, C, or E version—but regardless of what the box said, it wasn’t accurate for any of them.  Even if you accept the off scale, the quality of the kit was lacking (that’s being kind—“crude” is more like it), as there were knockout pin marks and short shots galore.  I received one of the Entex Industries issues as a Christmas present in the late 1970’s.  It was so full of bad parts that I wound up cannibalizing whatever I could from the kit over the years, eventually tossing the remnants in the garbage when the family moved in 1989.  The only thing that kit had going for it was the illustration on the box: “Old Nick 201” from VF-111.  What kid could resist a shark-mouthed F-4?

1/72 scale

Right now (October 2020), the best F-4 families of Phantom kits in this scale remain the Hasegawa and Fujimi kits.  Hasegawa does them all except the Spey-engined FG.1 and FGR.2.  Fujimi does them all, including the Spey Phantoms.  I mention this simply because some folks like continuity, and different manufacturers do things, well, differently.  If you want uniformity in your collection, these are the kits to use.

Hasegawa’s new tool F-4 kits, which debuted in 1990, have a better cockpit than Fujimi, but neither manufacturer is stellar in that regard—the Hasegawa tub fits a lot better, which is what puts them in the top slot for me (their RF-4B and RF-4C also have more detail to the camera bays).  The seats are basic, so you can either detail them yourself with strips of paper or tape and some wire.  Likewise, all the consoles and instrument panels are represented by decals.

Fujimi’s kits came on the scene in 1984, and the biggest complaint was the ill-fitting cockpit tubs, an issue partially corrected in later issues.  The first issues only included a multi-part open canopy; later issues had only a one-piece closed canopy.  At some point, both canopies were included in some kits.  The control sticks are too long, and the instrument panels sit too far forward.  The same comments about Hasegawa’s cockpit detailing also apply to the Fujimi kits.

Academy released their 1/72 scale F-4J in 2015 in their MCP (Multi-Colored Plastic) line.  They are a hybrid between a press fit and a glue kit—indeed; they suggest you secure the parts with glue.  Honestly, the cockpit tubs are more detailed than either Hasegawa’s or Fujimi’s!  Whether they extend the line or not remains to be seen. 

Monogram shrunk down their 1/48 scale F-4C/D and F-4J kits to 1/72 scale and issued them beginning in 1985.  The same comments I made for their 1/48 scale kits apply here, too.  At one point, they were reissued by Accurate Miniatures.

In 1982, ESCI produced a 1/72 scale line of F-4’s, including an F-4C/J, F-4E/F, F-4S, and an RF-4C/RF-4E kit.  Like their bigger brothers, the F-4C/J is neither/nor, but an attractive model can be built from it—the cockpit is more USAF than USN, and the kit offers the slotted stabilators that were not used on the F-4C or F-4D.  The F-4E was “it” in this scale before the advent of the Hasegawa and Fujimi kits.  If you’re more interested in color schemes than in absolute nut/bolt/rivet accuracy, these might just be the ticket.  Like their larger brethren, they are still generally available in a variety of boxes, most recently Italeri.

Starting in 1997, Revell AG/Revell GmbH (aka “Revell of Germany”) produced a series of long-nose Phantoms, including the RF-4E.  Some of the comments I’ve read state that the nose is too skinny/pointy, just like most of Revell’s—past and present--Phantoms.  The few I’ve seen built seem to bear that out.

Airfix recently (2017 and 2019) released two Spey Phantom kits, an FG.1 and an FGR.2.  While nice, they have some curious omissions.  But they have a more accurate shape than Fujimi’s, and the aftermarket has catered to those who want to fix the goofs that Airfix made.

FineMolds has announced a new tool kit of the F-4EJ and F-4EJ Kai that looks inviting, and should be useable (with a little work) as a hard-wing F-4E, as well.  Perhaps they will also make a slatted wing kit, and eventually follow Z-M’s lead and give us a state-of-the art series of Phantoms in 1/72 scale.  Hey, a guy can dream…

There are others out there in 1/72 scale, but they really aren’t worth the time and effort: 

In 1965, both Revell and Airfix offered 1/72 scale kits, and neither is very good, even looking at them as products of their time.  They have been released as pretty much every variant, with very few changes being made to the actual plastic.

Matchbox did a Spey Phantom kit (as an F-4K/M) in 1975, and to their credit it wasn’t simply a re-boxed F-4J with roundels (as were the Revell, Airfix, and early Hasegawa kits), it actually represented a Spey-powered airplane.  But it was typical Matchbox—heavy panel lines and soft details.  From a shape/proportion standpoint, they were better than the Fujimi kits, but the practice bleeding you’d need to do to bring the rest of the kit up to Fujimi specs isn’t worth the effort, especially with the new Airfix kits available.

Testors followed their 1/48 scale Phantoms with similar versions in 1/72 scale in 1981, and the comments I made about the 1/48 scale kits also apply to the smaller kits.

Hasegawa had older kits of both short and long nose F-4 kits in the early 1970’s, and the F-4E was by far the better of the two.  The short-nose kits had some serious shape issues around the inlets, cockpits, and radome, so back in the day the best way to get a short nose F-4 was to mate the nose from a Revell or Airfix kit to a Hasegawa long nose fuselage and wing, and add the appropriate details parts (exhaust nozzles, pylons, etc.) and decals.  Interestingly, the older Hasegawa kits (particularly the F-4E) have been reissued up until 2010 or so, so you really need to check your scorecard before you purchase a Hasegawa 1/72 F-4.

References?  You want references?

Here are some of the better references on the F-4 (again, judged either by experience or peer review):

The Detail and Scale series, Volume 1 (F-4C/D), Volume 7 (F-4E/G), Volume 12 (USN F-4’s), and Volume 43 (Updated F-4C/D) are decent references to use for the American F-4 variants, but they are, with the exception of Volume 43, a bit dated.  They include a Modeler’s Section with kit reviews as well as nicely done 3-view drawings.

For the USAF variants, there is The Modern Phantom Guide: The F-4 Phantom Exposed by Jake Melampy.  It is currently out of print.

Daco Publications has the Uncovering the US Navy Q/F-4B/J/N/S Phantoms book, and if you’re building a Navy F-4 and need a reference, well, this is it.

Another good reference is Aerospace Publishing’s McDonnell F-4 Phantom: Spirit in the Skies.  A lot of text, a comprehensive listing of Phantom operators through the years, and, in the variants section, there are small drawings that illustrate the differences between the various subtypes of the F-4.  Initially published in 1992, a later revision was published in 2002.

Finally, there is the six-volume (and counting?) Phantom series from Double Ugly!, an associate of AIRdocs Publishing.  They’re available from Shop of Phantoms or on Amazon.

Online, there are a few sources, too.  For USN/USMC Phantoms, there are few better than Tommy Thomason’s Tailspin Topics site.  For a lot of miscellaneous data from a former Phantom Phixer, there is The Phantom Phacts site.  The Box Art Den, up until recently, had a fantastic Reference Gallery, featuring many old, obscure, and out of print reference books.  They've taken it down for various reasons, and the site managers are discussing how and if they will eventually re-establish it.  I do hope they find a way to at least restore some of it...

Incidentally, if you haven’t yet checked out Scalemates and The Box Art Den sites, you owe it to yourselves to do so.  Both sites are treasure troves of information on models, model box art, and references.

As you start to dive into all things Phantom, you’ll start to realize just how great an airplane it was.  Designed as a fleet defense interceptor, it performed that mission, the ground attack, and electronic warfare roles equally as well.  The fact that most NATO allies flew the F-4 in some guise or another at some point in time indicates the type’s usefulness. 

As I said in the opening of this article, what you have just read represents a grain of sand on the beach as far as the F-4 is concerned.  There’s a whole world of more technical information out there—go discover it!

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Thanks for reading.  Be good to one another, and, as always, I bid you Peace.

The IAI Nesher

Howdy, all!

Here's a model I completed not too long ago.  It got started during one of the Saturday build days at the hobby shop before they moved across town, and had been sitting in a state of suspended animation until I got it back in work towards the end of our Project RIPCORD diorama.  This article previously appeared in the September 2020 issue of the IPMS/Mid-Carolina Newsflash.

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The Israeli Defense Force Air Force had employed the Dassault Mirage IIICJ to good effect during their 1967 war with the surrounding nations.  Due to wartime losses and attrition, the Israelis needed to add aircraft to their inventory not only to fill the gaps caused by the lost airplanes, but to also upgrade their fleet.  The Mirage III was a great air-to-air interceptor, but couldn’t do much in the way of ground attack.  Also, its short range made keeping an airborne combat air patrol aloft a challenge.

Enter the Mirage 5.

In the mid-1960’s, the IDF/AF began working with Dassault to develop a new fighter suitable for their needs.  The IDF decided that the Cyrano radar in the Mirage III was good, but not needed, as most combat in the region was withing visual range.  Also, the IDF asked for more fuel to increase the aircraft’s endurance.  So, Dassault started with a Mirage IIIE (a strike version of the Mirage III with additional avionics and fuel in an extended fuselage behind the cockpit), relocated the avionics behind the pilot to a new extended nose, and deleted the radar.  The new aircraft was called the Mirage 5, and the IDF placed an order for 50 of them in 1966.

In 1967, the French government, in a bit of a snit (de Gaulle wasn’t happy that the Israelis started what we call the Six Day War over his objections), enacted an arms embargo against all arms destined for Israel—including the new Mirage 5’s, which were built and ready for delivery in 1968.

At the same time, the French began selling arms to the various Arab forces in the region.  Never one to play favorites, de Gaulle believed all money coming into the country was “good” money.

Here’s where the story gets cloudy, depending on whom you listen to or what you believe.

The common tale among “those in the know” (and the story Israel tells to this day) is that the Israelis tried several times to “reallocate” the airplanes (the Israeli government asked for them to be re-positioned to Corsica so they could continue to train with the airplanes), but the French saw the ploy and took action to stop the effort.  Eventually, the French kept the airplanes, called them Mirage 5F’s, and integrated them into their Armée de l'Air (AdA).  They were said to have kept the Israeli money, to boot.  Because of this, Israel resorted to industrial espionage, obtained the plans for the airplane, and set up shop with Israel Aircraft Industries (IAI) to build the airplanes.  The rest, as they say, is history…or is it?

As Paul Harvey would say, here’s “the rest of the story”…

The real story isn’t quite so wrapped up in intrigue.  The French actually refunded the money Israel paid for the Mirage 5’s in 1972.  The airplanes were indeed kept and introduced into French service.

But that’s where the truth in the original story ends, if you believe the other stories. 

In 1968, Rockwell International (probably at the request of the U.S. State Department) approached Dassault with an order for Mirage 5’s for Israel.  The French agreed, but to camouflage the effort, the airplane components supplied to this order were instructed to be those built by subcontractors (Aerospatiale made fuselages, Reims-Cessna built the wings, and SABCA, a Belgian subsidiary of Dassault, built the ATAR 9C engines), crated, and shipped to Israel in crates aboard USAF C-141’s.  The crates were delivered to IAI, and the airplanes were reassembled by Rockwell technicians masquerading as IAI employees.  Israeli avionics were fitted. 

How do we know this?  Gene Salvay, a Rockwell engineer, was there.  He was there assisting the Israelis in fitting the General Electric J79 engine into the Mirage airframe, and became one of the lead engineers to assist in the development of the IAI Kfir.  But that's another story for another time.

Some point to the oft-shown photo from Nesher 01 in the IDF/AF Museum that shows “Mirage 5J” and names of the subcontractors on the various components “clearly only apply to that one single example, and that the others were entirely IAI products.”  But all of Israel’s Neshers were later sold to Argentina, and the parts all had French part numbers and data plates—why would IAI spoof these or use Dassault part numbers on parts supposedly made in Israel?

As an aside, if you’re a fan of the Mirage III/V/IAI Kfir/Atlas Cheetah series, a lot of Kfir and Cheetah components were likewise built in France.

The truth is out there…

In 1/48^th scale, the Mirage 5 was previously represented by kits from ESCI, later re-boxed by Italeri.  Typical ESCI kits, they weren’t too bad for their day.  The type got a big boost when Kinetic Models produced their Mirage IIIE/Mirage 5 kit (Kinetic kit 48052).  Wingman Models, a German group, helped the cause when they bought bagged shots of the Kinetic plastic, added Isra Cast resin, Isra Decals markings, photoetch, and Master Brass parts and sold it as a limited run, full meal deal Super Kit (WMK48013).  It is this last kit we’ll discuss…

First, I will say this—if you have not developed your basic modeling skills, this kit might be difficult to build.  This is certainly not a Tamiya quality model kit, but it is nicely molded and the shapes are pretty much spot-on.  It is certainly a kit that needs you to employ those Model Building 101 skills that I cover in my seminar of the same name.  You will spend a lot of time sanding, fitting, filing, fitting, fettling, and fitting before you even open the glue bottle.  Trust me.  Just trust me…

The kit is full of options.  You can build the Nesher or the Argentinian Dagger/Finger/Mara from the kit—there are resin noses for the Nesher and Dagger/Finger, and the plastic nose is good for the Mara (Argentinean Mirage 5 acquired from Peru).  There is a neat resin cockpit, instrument panel, choice of ejection seats (Martin-Baker Mk.  4 or Mk. 6), and a bit of under wing things (missile rails, Rafael Shafrir 2 missiles), and decals galore—you can pretty do any Nesher you fancy, as the sheet gives you numbers in several styles and the two styles of orange/black ID triangles applied to the Nesher if your airplane carried them.  Oddly, the kit provides two resin 1300 liter under wing ferry tanks, but does not provide the supersonic 500 liter under wing tanks and the 800 liter centerline tank that the Nesher usually sported.  Never fear—if you find you really need them, Wingman offers resin wing tanks in their “FixIT!” line (WMF48014).

I started by test fitting the wings.  No surprise, there was a nice step where the halves came together.  The bottom of the wing is inset into the top, and this step will be a royal bear to remove after assembly—maintaining the proper shape and contour will not be easy.  (And since this was one of those hobby shop build days, I didn't get photos.  You'll just have to trust me...)

You will need to sand the inside of both upper and lower wing halves as well as some of the inner structure to make them fit flush.  There will be a seam to fill on the underside of the wing no matter what you do; just do your best to get everything lined up flush across the outer surface.  I installed the speed brakes in the closed position—not many photos show them open on the ground without a hydraulic mule and someone in the cockpit, although a Mirage fixer has said they do tend to droop.  No matter, I glued mine in the closed position.  You will have to fit, sand, and fit again—this will be the main lesson from this kit.  The wells are beveled, as are the brake panels—but the bevels are different angles!  The brake panels tend to stand proud of the surface if you don’t do some of that test fit-sand-fit again stuff.  However, take a close look at what’s happening—the bevel on the brake panels themselves are what holds the part proud of the wing, so rather than sanding the edges of the brakes, increase the angle of the bevel on their underside.  The former will cause them to be too small, the latter will do a Goldilocks on them—they’ll be “Just Right”…

Likewise, the large aft center section panel needs to be fit and can be added, along with the proper inserts on either side of it.  Hold off on adding the trailing edge control surfaces until the wing is installed on the model.  It may help to add some Evergreen tabs inside the lower wing to help align the insert, too.

Begin the fuselage by cleaning up all the inlet trunk parts.  Kinetic give you inlet trunks all the way back to the engine compressor facing—99% of this is invisible, but you will want to hit the trunks with white paint.  Test fit, sand, and test fit again until the inlet assembly fits into the fuselage, but don’t secure it at this time.

Now, turn your attention to making sure the fuselage halves fit together.  You got it—fit, sand, fit again, repeat until it fits.

Next up: the cockpit.  Remove the parts from the pour stubs.  Be careful—the cockpit tub floor is thin; you don’t want to break through!  I did, but the small area will be hidden under the seat.  Likewise, clean up the nose gear well.  The well will be attached to the underside of the tub, just so you know…and it will need to be fit and sanded in order to properly fit inside the fuselage halves.

As you can see, I indeed cut a hole in the cockpit floor while removing the cockpit from the pour block.  You can also see the resin glareshield in place.

You will need to remove the molded-in plastic glareshield.  I used a combination of saws, files, and a rotary tool.  Try not to remove too much.  Test fit the windscreen to help guide you on the amount you need to remove.  The windscreen will tend to hide some gaps around the edges, but you still want to be careful and not remove too much plastic. 

As you assemble the cockpit tub to the nose gear well, test fit the lot into the fuselage.  I found that the waste side of each could take some sanding to make it fit.  I tacked the tub and well together with a single drop of CA while I did the test fit.  Make sure you fit the lower nose panel at this time, too—if the cockpit is marginally too wide, it can throw the nose off!  Once you are satisfied that it all goes together, secure the tub/well to one half of the fuselage with CA or epoxy.

Assemble the tailpipe.  You can install it at this point.  This is probably the simplest assembly in the kit-a resin tube and a plastic flame holder.  Leave the exhaust nozzle off until the model is finished.

Okay, now the fun begins.  Position the inlet trunk in one fuselage half.  Now, you’ll need to do some sleight of hand to get the other fuselage half into position—it isn’t difficult, but pay attention to where the inlets line up on the outside of the fuselage.  Test fit, adjust, and test fit again until the lot comes together without having to force the issue—I found I had to trim a little bit from the tabs on the inlet trunk assembly at the top as well as trim and sand the sides of the tub/well assembly to get the fuselage to close.  I tacked the fuselage halves with CA and, once I was satisfied with how they were positioned, applied Tamiya Extra Thin to the seam—this “double whammy” locks the fuselage halves in the proper alignment with the CA and welds the seam with the liquid cement.  I added the top fuselage insert at this time after carefully fitting it in place—the fit was less than exact, so get the fit as close as you can and expect to do some sanding/filling/scribing later.  The same goes with the dorsal fin extension, by the way…

You can address the fuselage seams now or wait until the wing is installed.  I decided to wait and tackle all the seams at the same time.  With that established, offer up the wing to the fuselage and check the fit.  I had to install a couple of spreaders in the fuselage to make the wing root seam tight—I chopped lengths off of the kit sprue and cut them to length so they were a push-fit into the fuselage and spread them just a slight bit.  Test fit the wing again, and if the fit is tight, reduce the length of the spreaders until it is a sliding fit—not too tight, not too loose…you know, just another Goldilocks situation.

I had to open up one of the slots on the fuselage wing root face that is supposed to interlock with the tabs molded on the root end of the upper wing.  You will also find out that you’ll need to be thorough in removing the parting lines from the aft section of the lower wing that meets up with the aft fuselage.  You know the drill by now—test fit, adjust fit, repeat as necessary.  Once the wing fits, time for cement—I used a few small tacks of CA, then applied Tamiya Extra Thin along the rest of the seams and allowed it to dry overnight.

The upper inlet parts are next.  Test the fit and trim as needed.  Then offer them up, one at a time, and cement only the aft end.  Let the cement dry completely, then cement the top edge and let that dry.  The final step is to maneuver the inlet into place where it meets the wing, then cement and let dry.  Done in this manner, you shouldn’t have too many fit issues.  I did find where the upper half meets the lower half wasn’t as precise as it could be, but we’ll take care of that when we fill and sand the seams.  I also had some gaps between the upper inlets and the splitter on the trunks; I simply filled these with white glue after everything was assembled.

Once all the cement is dry, let’s look after the seams and gaps.  The fuselage seam isn’t too bad—if you did your fitting correctly, the only thing you should need are a few swipes with sandpaper.  The insert on the upper fuselage aft of the cockpit, however, will need some filler.  I used to use all varieties of putty, but these days I use CA almost exclusively.   I have a length of .015” brass wire shoved into the eraser end of a pencil, and I use this to apply small amounts of thin or medium CA to any gaps and seams.  Work small areas at a time.  Apply the CA, let it cure, then sand.  If the defect is small, I use thin CA; any more than about 1mm gets medium CA.  The ONLY time I use an accelerator is when I have a wide gap that opens into a hollow space—the accelerator arrests the travel of the first application of CA so that you won’t wind up filling the hollow space behind the gap.  Otherwise, I let the CA cure naturally.  The important thing to remember about using CA is to sand it as soon as it is hard enough to sand.  Don’t layer on tons of CA and let it sit overnight—CA gets harder as it cures, and becomes a real bear to sand.   Speaking of sanding, I am not prissy—I started with 220 grit sanding film (3M makes some dandy sanding films and sponges) and worked the bulk of the filler down.  Then I switched to 400 grit Tri-M-Ite wet/dry sandpaper (wet) and removed the 220 grit scratches.  I then used 600 grit wet/dry to further smooth and remove the heavy scratches.  The final polishing was done with a Scotchbrite pad (Squadron markets them as “Finishing Pads” if you can’t find gray Scotchbrite pads at Lowe’s or The Home Depot).  Examine the surface for scratches—if there are any deep scratches; repeat the 400/600/Scotchbrite processes until the surface is smooth.  It you really want to go off the deep end, you can polish the plastic to a mirror shine with a nail buffer—but since we’re using paint (as opposed to an NMF), all you really need is a smooth surface without heavy scratches.

Note the gaps that were filled with CA.  Also note the aggressive sanding—with gaps like this, start with 320 grit!

Now, I can tell you this—you WILL lose some of the panel line detailing.  You can handle it one of three ways: 

•  Ignore it.  Under a coat of paint, it isn’t that noticeable.
• Restore it with a scribing tool—I use a sewing needle chucked into a knife handle and my JLC razor saw.  It isn’t too difficult, just work slowly and carefully.  One tip is to flow some Extra Thin into the restored lines to “soften” them—this helps to blend your work into what Kinetic molded.
• After the paint and decals are on, draw them on with a pencil.

With the wing installed and all the seams addressed and panel detail replaced, you can assemble the control surfaces.  Take care here—the holes are larger than the pins on the hinge fairings, so they tend to float a bit both on the wing and on the control surface.  I tried to get everything assembled with a consistent gap, but had to resort to adding a few .015” shims to several of the surfaces to eliminate a “gap-toothed” look and maintain somewhat even gaps between them. 

Note that the trailing edge doesn’t need to be precisely aligned, i.e., the control surfaces don’t need to describe a straight line—the flaperons and elevons moved independently of each other, and could deflect either direction.  You have the option to depict them in the lowered position, but 99% of the photos I looked at of Mirages and Neshers on the ground showed them in the neutral position, so that’s how I built the model.

The resin nose needs to be test fit carefully—resin can shrink unevenly while curing, so make sure it fits before you commit the glue.  I found that mine fit best if I left it to sit high on top and flush around the rest of the perimeter.  I later sanded the top to match the fuselage contour.

The nose in place and the junction sanded smooth

Mask the canopy and windscreen inside and out.  Paint the frames black (I used Vallejo Panzer Gray Surface Primer in the cockpit—it is a nice scale black).  Trust me on this—you should always paint the inside and out of the cockpit glazing if you intend to pose it open—it looks more realistic.

The time to attach the windscreen has arrived.  As you might suspect, test fitting is a must.  I found that I needed to add a .010” shim under the sides to get it to sit relatively flush up front.  Remove the masking from the inside of the windscreen (I left it on during the test fitting to keep from damaging it), then use CA to attach the windscreen along the sides.  Sand the sides flush, then work your way to the front.  I had to add some filler—another reason to paint the frames first, otherwise the filler shows through the clear parts, a colorful reminder to be more careful next time.  For this, I used Perfect Plastic Putty, primarily because I could apply it and smooth it with a wet finger.  I got it roughly shaped, let it dry, and then gave it a light sanding to do the final shaping.

After that, it was all downhill.  I made one last check to make sure all of the items were in position—I left off the clear lenses, antennas, pitot, exhaust, and ordnance, but all the rest of the doo-dads were installed at this point.  A wipe down with a lint-free paper towel moistened with Isopropyl Alcohol, and the model was ready for paint.

I’ve been playing around with the “black basing” technique lately.  Accordingly, the model was primed using Vallejo’s Panzer Grey Surface Primer.  I allowed this to sit for a few days to fully and completely cure (24 hours is usually sufficient).  Then I applied the camouflage using the appropriate Vallejo Model Air colors.  I carefully applied the colors so they were more concentrated in the centers of individual panels and less so on panel lines and structural landmarks—by doing so, the black “peeks through” and creates a shadow effect.  If the shadow looks too harsh, simply apply another thin—the key to this technique is to build color in thin layers—coat of paint.   As a final step, I will thin the paint into a tint and then mist an even coat over the whole area to “homogenize” the finish.  I repeated this process with each color.  After all four colors were applied; I gave the model a close inspection to see if I needed to make any corrections.  I had to touch a few things up, and then left the paint to cure.


The fuselage, primed and ready for color

With the paint fully cured, it was time for decals.  Now, there is a small (but very vocal) faction of modelers who insist that you do not require a clear coat under decals.  And while this is indeed true, if you plan on doing any sort of weathering you really should use a clear coat.  I use Future, or whatever they’re calling the product named Future these days (at last count, it is going by “Pledge Revive It Multisurface Floor Finish”)-- although I am led to understand the Alclad Aqua Gloss is a great product, too.

The key to using Future as a gloss is to apply it and allow it to fully cure—this takes anywhere between 24 and 36 hours.  Once it is fully cured, you can apply your decals.  The first thing to pay attention to is the water you use—if you know, or even suspect, that your water has a high mineral content, simply use distilled water. 

With modern decals, the easiest way to proceed is to apply one decal, no setting solutions or solvents, and let It sit, face-up, for an hour to see how it behaves.  Modern decal adhesives do a good job of pulling the film down into panel lines, but sometimes you will need to employ a solvent—I start with Solvaset, diluted a bit with distilled water.  If that won’t do it, I’ll reduce the amount of water until I’m using it full-strength—usually, that isn’t necessary with modern decals, but older decals might require repeated applications of full-strength Solvaset.  I divide my decals into four sessions—top, bottom, left, and right, and I will support the model so the decals in question can sit face-up while they do their thing—let gravity help when you can, right?

Another important, yet often overlooked, aspect of decals is this: after they’ve dried overnight, you need to gently remove the residual adhesive from the surface of the model.  If you don’t, you run the risk of having brown spots appear after a few years.  Using a lint-free towel (a microfiber towel is good) and some warm distilled water, carefully clean the model—look at the model after you dampen it, the spots of decal residue will appear as spots on a washed dish.  Gentle scrubbing will remove it.  Allow the model to dry…


Decals on, residue removed, and clear coat applied, ready for weathering.

Now, if you are not going to do any additional “weathering”, apply a clear satin or flat coat.  If, however, you’re planning on a panel line wash, apply a coat of clear gloss over the decals.  You can use a satin finish; however, understand that the washing process will stain the paint.  A glossy surface limits the staining and gives you a bit more control.

I added an oil wash.  I will be the first to tell you that I’m not 100% happy with it, and this is partially due to the colors I used.  My tones leaned towards the red end of the color wheel, and it is a touch too red for my liking.  Now, I left well enough alone, but if you find yourself in a similar predicament, the fix is to overlay the original wash with one more to your liking.  Oils are very forgiving that way—sure, whatever you add will mix with what is already down, but you can always mix oils to accommodate the colors already on the model.  You don’t need to rush; they will stay workable for at least six hours, probably longer if you use odorless turpentine.  If, on the other hand, you use something like Naphtha, they will dry quicker.  I’ve never used anything but odorless thinners, so I have never had to worry about it.

Once the wash does dry, you can apply a clear flat or semi-gloss finish.  Unmask the clear bits, and proceed with final assembly…

Oil wash applied.  Ready for final clear matte or sating and final assembly.

The details were added—the landing gear was installed along with the doors.  The exhaust nozzle was painted in various shades of black and Vallejo Metal Color paints to depict the typical scorched metal colors found on these items.  It was added to the model.

The various antennas were painted and added.  The Angle of Attack sensor, one of those turned brass goodies, was installed.  I used the tip of a new #11 blade to locate the hole, and then drilled the hole with a #76 drill.  A small dab of Canopy Glue secured the AOA sensor in place.  The pitot probe was also installed at this time in the same manner.  I used Vallejo Metal Color to paint the probes after they were installed.

The resin missiles and pylon adapters were painted and installed.  Nothing difficult about this step, although you might want to add some brass wire pins to obtain a more secure bond.  I did not, but hindsight may call my bluff on that one…

Last to go on were the seat and the canopy.  I painted the seat following the color photos included in the instruction sheet, added the photoetch details, and detail painted the lot.  The canopy was cleaned up, the interior frame painted with Vallejo Panzer Gray primer, and the photoetch mirrors were added with Canopy Glue.  I added a rod to the hinge tab of the canopy as a positive means of attachment, and the canopy was installed.

Once everything was added to the model, I made a final inspection and touched up any paint glitches and shiny glue spots. 

I have yet to fashion a base for the model.  I know what I want to do, and I am still planning what the final display will be.  Eventually, I want this to be part of an “Israeli Deltas” display, featuring two Mirage III Shahaks (1967 bare metal and 1973 camouflage), the Nesher, and three Kfirs—a C1, C2, and C7.  Six airplanes—you figure out what the base *might* look like… 

But the model itself is complete.  It took some work, but the modeling skills required are all basics—parts clean-up, test fitting, alignment, and careful construction.

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Speaking of the RIPCORD diorama, the FSB RIPCORD Veteran's Association has posted the article from the AMPS Boresight to their website.  I know I've teased with tidbits and photos, so you may as well see the story behind the diorama, too.  Click through it--it runs for about 55 pages on their site. 

Thanks for reading.  Please be safe and stay healthy in this time of COVID.  Be good to one another, and, as always, I bid you Peace.

Game-Changing Moments

Howdy, all…

Set the Wayback Machine.  The date:  July, 1982.  The place:  Warrick Custom Hobbies, Ft. Lauderdale, Florida.

The summer was winding down.  I had graduated high school in early June, and we went north for a few weeks to celebrate and visit family.  This was my one and only (so far) visit to the Air and Space Museum in Washington, and I literally could have spent a week there alone--as it was, we went twice because one of the other places were wanted to visit was closed.  I must have taken a hundred pictures with my new 110 Instamatic.  Yeah, I have no idea where any of those photos went.  To this day, I haven’t been able to find any of them…

A week or so after we got home, I went to my recently-discovered hobby haven to look at the latest kits.  On my previous visit several months before, I had previously spied a few kits that I might want to bring home with me.  So, I grabbed the car keys and set out.

I strolled around—I was only beginning to discover the depth of merchandise housed within the store.  There wasn't anything in the stacks that grabbed me on that day (I know, right?), so I went to the magazine rack and started looking at the books.  The first to call to me was Sheperd Paine’s How to Build Dioramas.  Having pored over his diorama sheets from the Monogram kits for a few years, I decided that I probably should pick this up.  Back in the day, it was only about 9 dollars American, about the same as one of the Otaki kits of the day.  Next to it was Hints and Tips for Plastic Modelers.  I flipped through it, and there was quite a lot of information packed into the book.  Four bucks—yeah, I can swing it.  Then, as I turned the rack, a magazine cover caught my attention:

Image:  Kalmbach Publishing

I gave the magazine a quick once-over, verified that I had the extra two and a quarter (plus the 4% for Governor Bob Graham), and took my finds to the counter.  The guy at the counter—who had previously saved me from buying a Nichimo Avenger, noting it was nothing more than a re-box of the Marusan 1/50 scale kit, itself a poor copy of the Monogram kit—told me he liked the new magazine, and thought I would, too.  I settled my tab--so much for that $20 bill--and drove home.

When I opened the magazine at the house, the following words greeted me:

 

Image:  Kalmbach Publishing

As I scanned the articles, I noticed the editorial in action.  Unlike the previous scale modeling magazines I had read in which the articles were text-driven with a few shots (mostly in black and white) of the completed models, the articles in this magazine actually took time to show me what the process looked like.  There were detail drawings.  Color references.  Notes about where to find the stuff they used to build the models.  Also unlike the other magazines, the history of the prototypes was mercifully brief—a paragraph or two, tops, but the meat of the article was the model and how the builder made it look that way.

At the time, I was still an airplane geek—sure, I built a few tanks and ships, and more than a few cars—but I found myself reading and re-reading all the articles in the issue.  The scratchbuilt 1/76th scale Abrams captivated me—I thought the Abrams was a neat-looking vehicle, and the MERDC color schemes (which I found quite attractive) were just coming into vogue, and were certainly more interesting that straight green.  But the color scheme was only the tip of the iceberg—the way Steve Zaloga wrote the article was almost begging me to try to do the same.  All along the way, he made it sound like any modeler could do this, and he did it without treating the lesser skilled modelers like imbeciles or idiots.  The tone was advanced, but the undertones were inviting everybody to give it a try. 

The only article of a subject in my area of interest was Ernie Pazmany’s Fw-190 conversion, and I certainly learned a great deal from his model.  The same holds for Richard Stazak’s vacuum-form kit article—I had only seen one vac kit to date back then, and I wondered how you built it.  Now I knew.  And, true to Bob Hayden’s word, I managed to take something away from every article in the issue, even though I didn’t build armor, or Navy jets, or space ships, or boxed dioramas.

I must have read and re-read that copy a dozen times before I decided that I needed to subscribe.  I had to scrounge for the twelve bucks (introductory rate, IIRC—the ad in the first “real” issue said $15) for eight issues, or two years, but to me, it was well worth the price.  Twelve dollars would have bought a nice model kit and the paint it needed, but I could buy them any time.  As I matured (ha!), I reasoned that it was like the parable about men, fishing, and eating.  I could have bought a model that kept me busy for a few days—and yeah, I would have learned something, I’m sure—or I could buy the magazine that would teach me how to build better models for years to come.  I would still subscribe to that other magazine, but it paled in comparison to FSM. 

Of the early issues, I remember most of the articles, simply because I read them over and over, extracting as much knowledge as I could from each page and every image.  To this day, I can still remember the sense of amazement I experienced when I read Boh Boksanski's article on combining a vacuum formed and injection molded kit into a fabulous model of an airplane I had only read snippets about (the B-50D) that was painted with...dope?  Pactra Silvaire Aluminum dope?  Yep.  Dope.  Wow. 

Or Mike Dario's conversion of a vacuum-formed F-89D to the earlier cannon-nosed F-89C, painted with what to me seemed to be a strange concoction of Floquil's Crystal Cote, Dio-Sol, and Pactra Silver.  I would later rely on the recipe and alter it to come up with a home brewed acrylic metal finish paint many years later, a recipe I used until Vallejo's Metal Colors made their debut.

My all-time #1 modeling article of all time is still Bob Steinbrunn's cockpit detailing article from the October (Fall) 1983 issue.  My original copy of that issue became so shop-worn and dog-eared that when I found a mint condition copy in the late 1990's, I snapped it up. 

To give you an indication of how much I ate this stuff up, my first copy of Shep Paine's book on dioramas that I bought with that Test Issue of FSM was likewise (as they say around here) "slap wore out" by 1984 or 1985...I finally bought a new copy, as well as the Second Edition, in 2000.

I would go off to college shortly after I read that first “Test” issue, but I would look forward to reading the new issues when I would go home for the occasional weekend.  Since it was a quarterly back in the day, and since I wasn’t at the house but three or four times a semester, the wait wasn’t too horrible.  And once the new issue arrived, I was off to read it from cover to cover, several times.

Through FSM, I learned of IPMS, and of local clubs.  After I graduated and came home, I would spend more time at the hobby shop—doubtless looking to buy all those kits I had read about in FSM.    I started to meet fellow modelers who said I should start going to the IPMS/Flight 19 meetings.  I went to one in late 1989, and as the story goes, was a bit gun shy to bring anything, but I did—I had a Nichimo Ki-43 Oscar in 1/48^th scale that I built a few years earlier.  I had dipped my toes into weathering on that one—I used a Tamiya silver marker to check seams, and added a few patches here and there for good measure.  I would swab the paint on with the paint marker, and then wipe off the excess with toilet tissue.  When I applied my finish colors (Polly-S in those days), I let them dry for a few minutes, then used a tight roll of masking tape to pick off spots of color to reveal the silver underneath.  I thought it was merely okay, but by the number of questions I got from the other guys you would have thought I had invented beer. 

As I looked at the other models on display, I was impressed by the scope and quality of the work and it seemed like everybody was there to help each other.  That was my kind of group, and I was a member from that night in 1989 until I moved away in 2001.  For some odd reason, I got roped into serving as the club President from around 1993 until we moved. 

A funny story about that first meeting—I knew the guys from the shop, and as I was socializing and meeting the rest of the gang, I bumped into an old high school friend.  I hadn’t seen him in seven years, and had no idea he built models.  He had, like me, been building since he was a kid.  Without clubs, that’s pretty much what model building was in the day…a lone wolf hobby.

Between discovering FSM (and the Kalmbach books) and joining IPMS/Flight 19, I was on the way to being a better model builder.  What I learned back then has become the foundation of the skills I use to this day.  Further, and I’ve already discussed it, I met people who are friends to this day.  For what can be a solitary pastime, that speaks volumes.

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One of the hobby manufacturers who was noted as introducing a line of paints matched to Federal Standards in Mr. Hayden’s editorial was none other than Testors, through their Model Master line.  In fact, the ad inside the cover of the next issue was for Model Master products.  In the nearly 40 years since then, the Model Master line was expanded to include the Metalizer products (bought from the originator), new colors, acrylic colors, brushes, blades, knives, tools, clear finishes, and a whole raft of modeling “stuff”.

Republic Powdered Metal (now RPM International) had acquired Testors a few years previous, along with Floquil/Polly-S, and were in the process of acquiring Pactra.  They also owed or would eventually own Zinser, Bondo, and Rust-Oleum. 

Testors got into the airbrush business in 1991 when they first marketed the Aztek airbrush as the “Model Master Airbrush”.  I bought one, sight unseen, as soon as Warrick Hobbies could get them in stock, and I used it until the early 2000s.  Aztek was a UK-based manufacturer of airbrushes and within a year of Testors marketing the Aztek, RPM (Testors parent company since the early 1980s) would buy Aztek and expand the line.

That 40-year run is coming to an end.

RPM has announced that all Pactra, Floquil, and Model Master Products have been discontinued.  Apparently, they are contracting the line back to where it was in 1978—square bottle enamels, their original tube and liquid cements and putties, and the inexpensive brushes.  It seems like several big steps backward, but apparently RPM had to answer to the shareholders, so they have moved the focus of their efforts to the craft scene.

There has been a lot of wailing and gnashing of teeth over this decision, but as I wrote on one of the online forums, there is nothing Testors made or marketed that you cannot obtain replacements for elsewhere.  The bite comes when you will have to order it, since the local stores might not carry it.

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In related news, Revell has announced they will be marketing their paints and finishing materials in the U.S., including enamels, acrylics, and spray lacquers.  They should be hitting the stores before the end of the year.

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The 2020 AMPS International Convention, initially planned for Harrisburg, PA in May and moved to Danbury, CT for late September, has been cancelled.   Given the resurgence of COVID-19 in some states, and the quarantine orders several of the Northeastern Governors have enacted for folks traveling to their states, it came as no surprise that it, too, has been shelved.

*     *     *     *     *     *
I have a few model-related research projects underway.  One is fairly straightforward and will probably become an article on the F-4J(UK), the surplus U.S. Navy Phantoms purchased for the Royal Air Force and put into service by No. 74(F) Squadron in 1984.

The second project is more complicated.  From the time I first saw one of the photographs of a 340^th Bombardment Group B-25 buried under ash after the 1944 eruption of Mount Vesuvius, I wanted to recreate it in miniature.  The sharper ones out there will see the problem right away: the lack of good, comprehensive documentation of the Twelfth and Fifteenth Air Forces in Italy.  It has been a bit of a hidden treasure hunt so far.  The books that are out in the world are either rather dated (Kenneth Rust’s books date back to 1975), limited in scope, or are nothing more than picture books.  The websites, too, are disjointed and scattered.  I even sent one of the webmasters an e-mail suggesting that the various sites join forces, like the old Web Rings. 

We’ll see how that pans out...

That's about all for now.  Thanks for reading!

Stay safe and healthy! 

Be good to one another, and, as always, I bid you Peace.

Old School Sea King

Howdy, all!

Last time we talked about Fujimi kits, and I promised you a rundown of the Sea King model I built not too long ago.  Well. here she be...

Building Fujimi’s 1/72 scale SH-3

In the 1950’s, the Soviet Union began fielding a larger and more potent force of submarines, both to conduct offensive strikes and to deal with enemy shipping.  In response, the Department of Defense—specifically, the U.S. Navy—began developing weapons to counter the threat. 

Among the equipment in development, Sikorsky began investigating the use of turboshaft engines on helicopters to replace the obsolescent piston engines then in use with the fleet.  The helicopter they designed, the Sea King, would serve the Navy until 2006.

Designed around a sealed amphibious hull and twin General Electric T58 turboshaft engines, the Sea King combined the missions of submarine hunting and submarine killing—previously, antisubmarine helicopters were either hunters or killers.  Initially designated HSS-2 (H=Helicopter, S=Antisubmarine, S= Sikorsky, 2=second subtype), it would be re-designated SH-3 in 1961.  Although the SH-3 had nothing in common with the HSS-1 Seabat—itself a variant of the S-58/H-34 family—other than the manufacturer, in the day, funding for an existing design was easier to obtain than for a clean-sheet design.  If they wanted to stick to the HSS nomenclature, it would have more accurately been HS2S-1…

The design would be stretched into the U.S. Air Force’s HH-3E with a rear loading ramp, and eventually Sikorsky would take the basic SH-3 design, stretch it, widen it, and introduce the CH/HH-53 series.  While not physically related, the family lineage is apparent.

Over the years, it was upgraded to the SH-3D, SH-3H, and SH-3G variants.  A civilian variant, the S-61, was produced and initially used to ferry passengers from downtown Ney Your City and Los Angeles to their respecting international airports, where the passengers could catch their flights—it saved time and trouble dealing with traffic.  S-61’s have also been used in aerial firefighting.

Fujimi’s 1/72 scale Sea King kits date back to 1981, and are quite nice, even now.  The kit was available in several boxings, depicting U.S. Navy SH-3’s, Japanese HSS-2B’s, and British Sea Kings (HAR.3 and Sea King Mk. 41).  Revell Germany also issued the kit as a Sea King Mk.41 (not to be mistaken for Revell’s own new-tool Sea King Mk.41 that appeared in 1998), and the kit also appeared in a Testors box.  Currently, Italeri has it in a box commemorating the Apollo 11 recovery featuring “Old 66”.  Options included in the box allow you to build it as an early or late Sea King—the short and long sponsons and stabilizers are included, along with a few different interior options.  This model was built from one of the JMSDF issues of the kit, a kit I picked up second-hand.  By the condition of the decals (and, as I would discover, the brittleness of the plastic), it probably lived most of its life in an unconditioned space.  The decals didn’t matter, but I would face several issues relating to the condition of the plastic all throughout the project.

Fujimi’s venerable Sea King kit dates to 1981, but is still pretty good for its age.

Initially, I was going to build one of the CH-3B’s that the United States Air Force used to service the Texas Tower radar platforms, and I began the project with that in mind.  I was going to delete the ASW gear in the cabin, so I installed the plugs for the SONAR well.  The more I started digging, the more I realized that I had a lot more information to gather for a CH-3B, and rather than let this kit languish, I decided to reverse course. 

I still wanted an early Engine Gray (aka Seaplane Gray, FS36081) aircraft.  I started digging in my decal stash, and located two sheets that had that as an option:  Microscale 72-391 and Cutting Edge Decals CED72008.  I opted for the latter, since it had a colorful ship for HS-5 “Night Dippers” off the USS Lake Champlain (CVS-39).  As it turns out, I would also use the Microscale sheet for the data—the Fujimi decals were worthless in that regard (remember, it was the JMSDF issue with appropriate Japanese data), and Cutting Edge does not provide it.

 

   Left: CED72008, supplies main scheme           Right: Microscale 72-391, supplies data

I took a look at what I had done to that point.  Removing the plug from the cabin floor was easy—the SONAR enclosure would hide any ugliness.  But the fuselage plug was another issue—when I attempted to remove it (I applied some Tamiya Extra Thin to weaken the earlier bond), part of the fuselage came out with it.  I was fully prepared to make the required repairs, but my wife (who also happens to be the Sea King Subject Matter Expert over on the Tailhook Topics website) offered me her Sea King spares box for anything I may need.  So, I selected a pair of fuselage halves that would work for me.  The port side came from a Sea King Mk. 41 issue, and is molded in green.  The starboard side was from one of the USN SH-3 issues, and was molded in white.  Parts from the original kit are almost an ivory color.  So, in the pictures you will notice that the model looks like Lou Antonio’s “Lokai” character from the “Let That Be Your Last Battlefield” episode of “Star Trek”—there’s the reason why.  I also would use sponson stub pylon parts and landing gear from her spares, since the originals were brittle and I managed to break them during construction.

I stuck pretty much to an out of the box build, but several items couldn’t be left alone: the cabin interior was flat and featureless (a quick look inside of a Sea King reveals structural members that are quite visible) other than the optional window cut lines and some ejector pin marks, the main landing gear wells opened up into the interiors of the sponsons, and I wanted to fold the main rotor to save on display space.

I revisited my earlier cabin work and added the ASW consoles and seats, as well as the “broom closet” and SONAR housing.  I left the aft web seat out for now.  In the cockpit, I added a second collective (the kit only has one), and assembled the rest per the instructions.

Now comes the fun.  I filled the window cut lines with a mixture of CA (super glue) and microballoons and sanded them flush once cured.  There are quite a few ejection pin marks and sink marks inside the cabin, too, and these also got addressed.  The good thing about the CA/microballoons mixture is that it cures fast but does not get as hard as straight CA—it sands and fathers easily.

Next, I took a pencil, and using the rivet lines on the exterior of the fuselage, I drew corresponding lines inside.  Using various sizes of Evergreen strip stock, I added the indications of frames and stringers inside the left half—the right side cannot be seen, so I didn’t waste the effort, time, or materials.  Simply cut the strip stock to length, and cement it in place with Tamiya Extra Thin.  You’ll need to hold the stock in place for a few minutes while the cement grabs.

I also fashioned a cabin overhead from Evergreen sheet.  I used the overhead from one of the new Airfix kits to cut a pattern from an index card.  I test fit the pattern and adjusted it until the fit was to my liking.  I transferred the pattern shape to some .015” sheet, cut the pattern out, and did some final fettling to get it “just right”.  I installed some .040” square stock as gluing tabs for the overhead.

Window cut lines filled and structure added—that’s the Airfix overhead I used as a template in the foreground

The widows were cleaned and installed at this time.  I used CA—sparingly—and allowed it to wick into the seam.  Done carefully, the windows will be installed securely and the seam between the window and fuselage should be sealed.  If you want the flush look, add more CA to the outside seam and then sand and polish the windows back to clarity.  Once that was done, I masked the windows and painted the interior areas FS36321 Dark Gull Gray.  The seat cushions were painted orange, and I added paper seat belts to all of the seats, and used a greenish tan shade for the web seat.  The interior was then added to the fuselage halves, and the fuselage was assembled (don't forget to un-mask the insides of the windows!).  The fit was quite good, I only needed to add some CA into the seam on the bottom.  A quick sanding, making sure to keep the keel sharp, and that was that.

The interior “pan” painted.  I didn’t go into a great deal of detail, since 99% of this won’t be seen.

The insides of the fuselage—note that I only added structure where you could see it

The engine inlet face needed to be fitted carefully—there isn’t a lot to positively locate it, so work carefully.  I still wound up with some gaps, and rather than use CA as filler, I used Vallejo putty.  It is workable with a wet brush, so I applied the putty and smoothed it out.  After it dried, a quick touch with sandpaper feathered in any errant edges.

The engine inlet face installed.

The early issues of this kit have an issue with the cockpit windows—the lower horizontal frames are far too wide.  My kit had the later corrected version, but forewarned is forearmed and all that.  I first cleaned up a rather large scratch with Micro Mesh pads and Novus Polish, and then gave the canopy a dip in Future.  Once the Future cured (overnight), I masked and sprayed the inside of the “greenhouse” windows—in the case of early Sea Kings, they were actually blue.  I used Tamiya’s Clear Blue for this.  Another curing period and the canopy panes were masked with Tamiya Tape, trimmed with a brand new #11 blade.  I masked my canopy before I installed it, but you can do it whenever suits your mood.

I used Pacer’s Formula 560 Canopy Glue to secure the canopy.  I had to use small tacks of CA in a few spots, since the top of the fuselage tended to bow more than the top of the canopy—gentle pressure on the fuselage, a tack of CA to lock it into position, and then some Canopy Glue to fill the small gaps, and you’re done. 

With most of the fuselage together, I dealt with the sponsons.  The halves were cleaned up, and then I sized a bit of Evergreen sheet to form the sides of the gear wells.  I installed it right over the sockets for the struts, and once the sides of the well were secure, I drilled matching holes.  I cut a bit of sheet to act as the well’s roof, and secured it to one side.  The sponsons were assembled—don’t forget to install the struts!--and the roof was attached to the other side wall to close it up.  I then sized bits of sheet to close off the fore and aft ends of the wells.  A bit of sanding to make the sides of the well flush with the bottom of the sponson, and we could check that off the list.

All you need is Evergreen and time.  Tell me, which looks better?

When you install the sponsons, do a test first to make sure the support strut will fit okay.  Note that there is a normal gap between the sponson’s stub wing and the fuselage on the actual aircraft, so don’t fill it.  You should, however clean up the fit of the struts where they meet the fairings.

You can see the gap that needs to be filled where the strut meets the fairing.

The horizontal stabilizer was added, and the gap was filled.  The basic carcass is now complete.

The tail rotor was cleaned up of flash, and the hub detail added.  I also cleaned up the main rotor parts, assembled and cleaned up the dipping SONAR unit, rescue hoist, pitot masts, main wheels, and the fuel dump.  Early Sea Kings didn’t have the ice shield or rotor cap, so those went to the spares box.  I ascertained that this helicopter had the split pitot probes—earlier aircraft had them both located on the right side in a vertically staggered arrangement.  I left them off for painting; however, since there would be some tight work needed around the engine doghouse, they would have been in the way had I installed them now.  I should have left the fuel dump off, too—I wound up breaking it several times.

Everything got a coat of Vallejo’s Panzer Gray Surface Primer.  It gives a uniform base of subsequent colors, and acts as a very nice scale black.  I masked the lower canopy frames that would remain black (the chin windows and lower windscreen frames) and the flame pads near the engine exhausts.  Next, I used Vallejo White Surface Primer on the nose and tail band area—fluorescent and Day-Glo paints don’t do well unless there is a white backing for them.  The areas were masked off in preparation for the main color.  I looked and looked, and swore I had a bottle of 36081—but all I had was the Testor Acryl modern Engine Gray.  I also needed the red-orange paint, so I placed a supplies order.  As usual, Sprue Brothers Models was quick to ship…

Primed and ready.

The Seaplane Gray went on without a hitch.  I unmasked the white areas and back-masked them for the red-orange.  Yes, I could have shot the red-orange on before the gray, but as it was I had two layers of paint—I wasn’t going to chance that the tape would lift any of the paint.  The red-orange is from Lifecolour, and I gotta say this—that was some really nice paint!  It only needed minimal thinning and it laid down very nicely.

We now have a gray and white model. 

      Red on the fuselage, Gull Gray on the blades.

The tail rotor tips were masked, and the white was sprayed on the tips.  When dry, the white areas were masked and the red added.  It was unmasked and set aside for later.

Tail rotor, ready to go.

The main rotors’ undersides were masked, and the tops given a coat of FS36440 Light Gull Gray (I used some of the last of my Acryl paint on this).  The yellow bands and tips were masked and painted.  Once they were dry, I assembled the blades to the rotor head.

The main rotor assembled in the unstowed position.

“But wait a minute—you were going to fold the rotor, right?”  Patience pays here.  It is easier to assemble the main rotor, and then cut four of the five blades off.  Using my JLC razor saw, I cut the blades from the hub just outside the main rotor head collars—this is a wee bit longer than the lap joint on the blades reaches, so I trued everything up with a sanding block.  Keep track of which blade goes where, too—I merely set them on my bench in the order they were removed around the head.

Four of the five blades cut from the head.

To replace the material lost in the cutting, I added pads of .010” Evergreen sheet stock to both the blades and the rotor head.  Now, comes the fun.  The rigid blade is #1, therefore I needed to fold the #2 and #5 blades aft.  I added a small section of Evergreen angle stock, sanded it until it was thinner and matched the angles I needed—I didn’t measure the angles, I merely eyeballed things until they looked like the reference photos I was using.  I used CA here, since it grabs fast and I can lock it if I need to with some accelerator.  Once they were secure, I filled the angle a bit with more CA, and sanded everything smooth.

Added the styrene pad, angle stock, and…done.  Now, one more of these…

For the #3 and #4 blades, they not only fold back, but also down and lie almost flat to the fuselage.   Again, I added angle stock and placed it to orient the blades where they needed to be.  Again, I assembled everything with CA to get a solid bond.  If you look closely, it won’t make sense, but it is the appearance that counts here.  I was satisfied with the look of the rotor, and that’s what matters.

Now, were folded.

I took care of the rotor while the decals went on the rest of the model.  As I said earlier, I used the Cutting Edge markings and the Microscale data.  Everything went on easily, although I did make a goof—I’ll let you guys and gals have a look and see if you can tell.  I’m not sayin’ a word…I can live with it.  Good thing, too—fixing it would require a ton of work (and another set of decals!) that I’d rather not do…

I apply decals over a model that’s had a clear gloss applied.  I use Future, thinned 50-50 with Isopropyl Alcohol, for this task.  You can apply it straight if you wish, I find that the alcohol yields a thinner coat and a smooth but not too shiny finish.

 

Decal time.  I do one side at a time, and let gravity help pull them tight.

By the bye, there is a small (but very vocal) faction of modelers online who claim you don’t need it, that as long as the paint is smooth, you’re good to go.  And largely, this is true—decals only need a smooth surface to adhere to without silvering.  But if you weather with washes, you will find that the untreated paint will stain differently than the paint protected by the decal film—the work-around(s):  Remove all the clear film from your decals OR paint on all your markings OR apply a clear gloss.  I’ve been doing the Microscale System for so long that it is ingrained in the way I build models, and it works, so I’ll stick to it.  If your mileage varies, that’s cool—far be it to me to tell you how to build your models.  The decals settled down nicely, for the most part, but around some of the rivets they needed some help—a bit of Solvaset did the trick.  Once dry, the model was wiped down with a moist (with distilled water--I use distilled water for all phases of the decal application) microfiber towel—this removes the excess decal glue and solvent residue and prevents these areas from turning brown months or years later.

Another coat of Future, again cut 50-50 with Isopropyl Alcohol, was applied.  I allowed it to dry, and then stripped off the masking from the clear parts.  A few licks of paint to color details—the antennas (Panzer Gray primer), the tips of the pitot tubes and landing lights (Molotov chrome marker—next time, I’ll use MV lenses for the landing lights), the engine inlet bullets (Vallejo Mediterranean Blue and White mixed to match the blue of the checkerboard decals), and the inlet rings (Panzer Gray primer) were brush painted in the relevant colors.  As the last paint operations, I masked off the wheel wells and painted them white, made a mask for the two oval antennas on the forward belly and painted them with Desert Tan Surface Primer, and masked the stainless panels around the exhausts and painted them Vallejo Metal Color Dark Aluminum.

Ready for final assembly.

A close shot of the front end.  You can see a lot in the photo—the exhausts and inlets are painted, the pitot masts are installed, the engine spinners are painted, and the position light on the sponson is complete.

I had sanded the tail beacon off during construction.  I made a new one from a drop of Canopy Glue.  I also removed the lower beacon (I sanded off of the chin fairing), and replaced it in the same manner.  I cut the molded position lights on the sponsons off, and small dabs of Canopy Glue replaced them.  When the glue drops were dry, the lights were painted in the relevant colors using Tamiya Clear Red and Clear Green.  A clear position light was added to the aft end of the tail.

The remaining parts were installed with Canopy Glue.  The benefit of using Canopy Glue is that the bond breaks before the part does, so if the model gets bumped, you can easily repair anything that pops loose.  Any shiny glue spots were addressed with either Future or Matt Varnish, as the situation warranted.

The main rotor still needed work.  As it was, the tips of the blades stuck straight out.  I used a small section of .040” square stock to raise the forward edge of the rotor head—this dropped the blades to where they looked like the reference photos I used.  As a final detail, I made the rotor tie-downs from paper and thread.  I slid the bags over the ends of the rotors and secured the “ropes” to the tail wheel as shown in photos.  This will put some tension on the blades and get them to curve down a bit.  There was no “one” way these were secured—look at your photos and build what you see.

A little stock to get the right “sit” on the rotor head, then some paper and thread will tie down the main rotor.

All models need a base—it is literally a frame for your model.  Simple bases for aircraft models are easy—they are usually a flat base covered with either turf, pavement, or, in the case of ships, a deck (either wood or steel).  I had a craft-store plaque lying around that I inherited from someone who simply left them at the hobby shop as freebies.  It wasn’t in the greatest shape—it had scratches and dings on it.  I sanded it as smooth as I could, filled the dings and divots, and gave it a few coats of Matt Black using a craft acrylic.  Once the paint was dry, I shot on a few coats of Future—I have an older bottle that was turning yellow, and I had added some food coloring to create a tint. 

I created the deck using a piece of mat board I bought as part of a package of off-cuts from the crafts store.  I measured the base, cut the mat board to size, and then used a pencil and a straightedge to simulate the deck planks.  I had a good photo of the Champ’s deck, and I followed it as closely as I could—Essex-class carrier decks were planks set side to side.  About every eight planks, there was a steel frame with tie-down cleats.  In the case of my base, I didn’t bother with the cleats, since the deck was so dark.  Once the planks were embossed, I painted the mat board with Vallejo Tire Black.  Once dry, I masked and painted the stripes and helipad location.  A coat of matt clear finished the job.

A simple base sets your model off.  This took about an hour and used common materials found in craft shops.

I glued small squares of felt to the corners of the bottom of the plaque, and attached the deck to the top side, all with Tacky Glue.  I whipped up a quick placard in PowerPoint and printed it on card stock, trimmed it to size, and attached it to the deck with Spray Mount.

The final step was to attach the helicopter to the deck with a few dabs of Canopy Glue.  With that, another model is ready for the display cabinet.

A dab or two of glue, a placard, and we’re done.

From the top.  The folded rotor adds some visual interest and saves on display space.

So there you have it.  All told, this took maybe 10 nights of work, about three hours per night--give or take.  You can plow a lot more work into one of these kits--detailing the cockpit, detailing the rotor heads, adding small details to the exterior--but I only added what I considered the bare minimum required to make it look good on the shelf. 

I'm happy with the end result, but not satisfied--the model is quite attractive, sure, but as the "father" of the finished model, I cannot help cringe when I see my boo-boos.  In the end, it gives me an excuse to build another...and another.  By doing, you learn.  By practicing, you become a master.  Isn't that what it is all about?

Thanks for stopping by.  Be good to one another, and, as always, I bid you Peace.

Teen Debutantes

Howdy, everyone!

I've been spending time at the workbench lately.  Our AMPS Chapter is involved with a display for a museum, and that has eaten up quite a bit of our collective time over the past year.  We're still not finished, but every week gets us one step closer.  My part of the project was to handle the aerial assets (read: helicopters), where I painted four that were constructed by some of the other members of the club, and I built and painted another pair, one of which will remain in my collection.

In addition, I wanted to finish some of the half-completed models I had in the queue, including one that featured in my Model Building 101 seminar.  As a result, I managed three completions (two helicopters plus a Revell 1/72 F-101B) in the space of a few weeks.  I'll publish Voodoo pictures later, and the photos of the display will have to wait until it is officially unveiled at the museum sometime in the early parts of 2020.

While I was on a roll, I kept moving.  I had started a new-tool (2014) Airfix Spitfire Vb during our HobbyTown Saturday build days.  It got stalled, but I picked it up and am not too far from the finish line.  It is an interesting kit--I'm sure you can find in-depth reviews of it on the Interwebs--and for all the griping over some of the decisions Airfix made, it is a far shade better than their old 1977 kit, that's for sure.  Is it better than the 1993 Hasegawa or Tamiya kits?  I can't say--while I have copies of the Japanese kits in the stash, I have never built one.  I will go out on a limb and say that they all have their plusses and minuses, so there is a kit for everyone...

The only issue I had with the Spitfire was finding markings.  I settled on an old Ministry of Small Aircraft Production set, 4814 "USAAF Spitfires" to decorate my model as "Lobo"/HL-M from the 308th Fighter Squadron, 31st Fighter Group based on Sicily in 1943.  The price tag on the sheet shows I bought it in early 2000, and I was curious to see how well they worked.  Well, the results were rather mixed--they looked good on the sheet, but didn't respond well to solvents.  I used Solvaset for most of them, and even diluted the solvent caused the blue in the insignia to run a little.  Eventually (and with a little help), they laid down into and around the details, but I had to babysit them in order to get them to behave.  I applied the clear gloss overcoat to them last night.  I noted some rough patches that I'll  polish out with a 3200 grit Micro Mesh pad, then do the toning/"weathering" before flat coat.  The only concerns I have from here on out are the landing gear leg attachments--a half-lap joint where the leg meets the knuckle that others have wailed loud and long about.  We'll see how it goes...

Again, pictures at 11...but here are a few from the first decal.  You can see how the blue ink ran a wee bit and the disc is slightly discolored.  I'm not going to worry about it, since it will look okay by the time I get through with the toning and shading.  You can also see how they are on the thick-ish side and didn't quite suck down all the way into the panel lines.  A sharp #11 blade persuaded them otherwise...

**************

While the Spitfire winds through the finishing phases, I have picked back up on the Wingman/Kinetic IAI Nesher in 1/48th scale, also started during the HobbyTown Saturday sessions.  These kits, while nice, are not for the faint of heart.  A lot if sanding, filing, trimming, test fitting, sanding, filing, trimming...

When it is complete, I'm sure it will be an impressive model.  The journey from kit to model will be fun, and will definitely exercise those Model Building 101 skills!

I also intend to get back to finishing the camouflage scheme and construction on the long-suffering Special Hobby Macchi C.200 that I've been chipping away at for ten (!) years now.  There's still that 1/700 scale USS Cowpens (CVL-25) in work.  The Aerolcub 1/48th Gloster Gamecock needs some love, too; and, since it is so close to the finish line, the 9-year StuG IV project might just get finished before the end of the year, too.  In the desire to clean out the backlog, I want to get all of these done before I tackle something else.

Wish me luck.

In the meantime, how about a piece I wrote on some older kits?

********************

At the recent IPMS/USA National Convention in Chattanooga, I picked up a couple of kits from my childhood—Revell’s 1/72 scale F-15A (kit H-257) from 1974 and F-16A (kit H-222) from 1976.  Why, with all the up to date kits of these airplanes available, would I buy these dinosaurs?

Nostalgia. 

There was a summer in the mid-1970’s—probably 1977—when my brother and the other neighborhood kids virtually emptied the shelves at the local SuperX Drug Store of plastic models.  One of the trips yielded the aforementioned kits.  I can’t recall who built what—I seem to recall building the F-16, but I could be mistaken.  Anyway, these were pretty nice kits for their day, and honestly, they still stand up today if you consider what they are and what they aren’t.

What they are:  Affordable, quality Revell kits from the mid-1970’s, they were based on early information from the USAF and manufacturers, and served as a few hours of fun time.  They were available in more stores than just hobby shops.

What they aren’t:  Expensive, super-detailed Uber kits with every nut, bolt, and rivet correctly portrayed, available only in a hobby shop.  However, they are good in outline, so they’re also not garbage, as some have labeled them. 

These kits are products of their time.  With a few hours’ work, maybe a little aftermarket, and you will have a couple of handsome models on the shelf. 

Why would anyone build one of these?  My answer—color.  We see tons of current configuration F-15’s and F-16’s in their multiple shades of gray, but very seldom seen are the early pre-production and prototypes in their colorful roll-out and test schemes, which brings me to the point of this article…

Let’s take a look at each—we’ll see what we need to do, we’ll take a look at what is available to do it, and we’ll take a look at photos.

Starting with the F-15A, here’s what we need to know:

1. The F-15, like the F-14, didn’t have any “true” prototypes that wore an XF- or YF- designation—from the first airframe to the last, they were all F-15’s.  The plan was that any changes could be made on the production line; therefore the first airframes would serve as the Flight Test articles; they are often designated as pre-production or Full Scale Development aircraft.
2. The early F-15A’s could be identified by their squared-off wingtips, un-notched horizontal stabilators, short speed brake, and the installation of the Douglas IC-7 ESCAPAC ejection seat.

Now, looking at the Revell kit, here’s what we have:

1. Fairly nicely done exterior with recessed panel lines, for the most part.
2. Simple interior, it lends opportunity to scratchbuilding some of the smaller details.  Actually, you could do a lot of good simply by installing an aftermarket Douglas IC-7 ESCAPAC ejection seat.
3. It represents the early aircraft with square wingtips, short speed brake, and the notch in the stabilators.

The first thing you must ascertain is whether or not the airplane you want to build had these features.  Early in testing, engineers noted a problem with wing buffeting, and their “fix” was simple—they (literally) cut the wingtips off at about a 30 degree angle from wing tip at the leading edge to the aileron break on the trailing edge, giving the production Eagles their characteristic raked wingtips. 

The short speed brake remained through the first 12 production Eagles.  It was extendable through a 66 degree angle, and this caused some rearward visibility issues for the pilots as well as some buffeting.  The cure was to extend the length of the speed brake, allowing the same braking action with a smaller extension angle.  The early “long” (aka production) speed brakes had an external stiffener that was later removed. 

Revell’s kit correctly depicts the short speed brake.  One important item of note:  There is no “well” into which the speed brake—either short or production—closes into.  There are streamlining plates that stand perhaps ¼” off the skin of the airplane, but the brake closes flat onto the skin of the upper fuselage.  The only well is for the actuator.  Most kits of the F-15 still depict a recessed well, however.  The fix?  Build the airplane with the brake closed…

The final item is the notch, or dogtooth, on the horizontal stabilizer.  Flight testing revealed a slight flutter problem, and adding the notch solved the problem (this was the opposite of the later F-18, where McAir engineers removed the dogtooth from the stabs on that airplane for the same reason).  Revell gives you stabs with the dogtooth, but the first Eagle flights were flown with stabilizers without the snag.  The fix?  Square off the notch, insert a piece of properly sized Evergreen, and sand to shape.

Add a test boom (brass or Evergreen rod) to the nose and the appropriate paint and markings, and there you go.  If it bothers you, source a set of early F-15A wheels, as they were different from the later F-15C versions. 

The early airplanes wore either Air Superiority Blue (FS15450/FS35450) or gloss white with various trim colors.  The first Eagle, Serial 71-0280, wore Day-Glo red panels over the ASB, while some others wore International Orange or Gloss Blue.   As for decals, you’re in luck—Caracal Decals has produced a decal sheet dedicated to the early F-15’s.

Incidentally, you can source Air Superiority Blue from Life Colour (UA 37), MRP (240), Hataka Red Line, Tru-Color (TCP-1229), Mr. Hobby (C074), K Color, and True North Precision Paint.  Many of these are gloss, which is fine—the scheme consisted of a mix of gloss (15450) and matte (35450) Air Superiority Blue.

Some other miscellaneous items—the main landing gear of the F-15A, when viewed from directly forward or aft, cants outward, so make sure you position yours accordingly.  The early flight test aircraft lacked the gun, so take note if your kit has the opening in the left wing leading edge glove.  If you feel the need to replace the exhaust cans, make sure you use one with the “Turkey Feathers” installed.

If you want to work with a more modern kit in any scale, you will have to backdate them on your own.  The easiest route to the early speed brake is to assemble the model with the brake closed, fill the seams with CA, and re-scribe the outline to depict the original speed brake.

To square off the wings, do what the engineers did in reverse—add a triangular piece of styrene sheet to the wingtip.  The wingtip is the reference point.

Add the ESCAPAC seat, eliminate the gun, fill the notches in the stabs (as described above), and get Caracal’s early F-15 decal sheet.  It is available in both 1/72^nd and 1/48^th scales.

In 1/32^nd scale, you’re on your own, but it is not difficult.  The hardest thing will be the markings since no decals exist. 

Some good photos of the first Eagle in flight show the original wingtips and stabilators (Photos: USAF).  They also show the lack of a gun, and that the main wheel doors remained open after the gear was extended (Photos: USAF):

Now, moving on to the F-16…

Unlike the Tomcat and Eagle, the F-16 program began with the General Dynamics Model 401 in a fly-off against the Northrop P-600 Cobra.  Accordingly, both manufacturers produced two flight test prototypes, the YF-16 (Serial Numbers 72-1567 and 72-1568) and YF-17 (72-1569 and 79-1570).  None of these airframes was considered a full-spec version of the eventual aircraft, they were merely test articles, hence the YF- designations.

The eventual winner was the YF-16.  Following the two YF’s, there were seven Full-Scale Development F-16A’s produced, five single-seaters (Serial Numbers 75-0745 through 75-0750) and two two-seaters (Serial Numbers 75-0751 and 75-0752).  For all intents and purposes for scale modeling, the FSD aircraft were virtually production airframes with the smaller horizontal stabilators.  They were fitted with the Stencel SIIIS ejection seats, too.

The Revell kit is a pretty good representation of the FSD F-16A.  A replacement seat might be worthwhile, and you’ll want to replace the forked pitot tube of the YF-16 with a straight one made from tube or Evergreen rod, otherwise you get a decent model of the FSD airplanes.  If you want to do some additional detailing, the main gear retraction jacks are missing, but are easily added with some scraps of Evergreen. 

The kit came with markings for the first FSD airplane in the “Bicentennial” red, white, and blue scheme also worn by the two YF-16’s, but for some reason they got the serial number wrong. 

At one time, Vingtour Decals offered a decal sheet for the early Vipers, but it seems to be out of print and hard to find.  If the decals in the Revell kit are in good condition, simply replace the kit-provided serial number with white numbers to depict “50745”.  Note that the “flag panel” was not always present, and sometimes included an Israeli or an Iranian flag, depending on who G-D was trying to sell the airplane to at the time.

The FSD F-16’s were a colorful bunch of airplanes.  Some wore overall single-color gray schemes, others wore experimental “Cloud” and two-tone grays, others were painted in the initial Compass Ghost Gray schemes.  One of the two-seat F-16B’s wore a “Lizard” scheme similar to the A-10’s Euro-1 scheme of two greens and dark gray.

These airplanes had multiple roles, as well.  They tested the extended tail housing, heavy ordnance carriage, special flight regimes (AFTI F-16), Wild Weasel systems, and alternate engines (in addition to the DFE, one of the two-seat F-16B’s was fitted with a General Electric J79 as used in the F-4, in hopes that smaller air forces would acquire the type without having to do the dance with the DoD to gain access to the F100-powered airplanes before President Reagan relaxed the export rules).  Two would be converted to F-16XL SCAMP configuration and used by NASA after the USAF was through with them.

75-0745 was the aircraft retrofitted with the General Electric F101 Derivative Fighter Engine (DFE), and when it received the new engine the tail logo read “F-16/101”.

To do this with a more up-to-date kit, start with an early F-16A with the small stabs.  In 1/72, try to find a Hasegawa F-16A+ kit and source some small stabs, or start with the Italeri kit—it ain’t great, but it is a good starting place.  In 1/48^th scale, Tamiya and Monogram both offered fairly decent kits of early F-16’s, you may want to try to find one.  There are some goofs you’ll want to fix—both have the early split nose gear doors, for instance—but a little work will yield a nice model.  Replace the ACES II seat with the Stencel type, delete the position lights on the inlets, rearrange the antennas, and apply the appropriate markings.  This should satisfy all but the most dedicated Viper fan.

Here are a few shots of the #1 FSD ship.  The second photo is after it received the DFE and is sitting next to a production-standard F-16A.  Note the longer test boom on the nose of the engine testbed, too (Photos: USAF)…

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That's all I have for this installment.  Thanks for reading!  As always, be good to one another, and I bid you Peace.