Latest news with #JimClash
Forbes
11-04-2025
- General
- Forbes
SERE Immersion Training Tests Mettle Of Intrepid Journalist
Forbes writer Jim Clash parachute training, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 24, 2025. In the fifth part of this series about Dyess AFB in Abilene, Texas (links to other four parts below), I participated in a simple Survival, Escape, Resistance, Evasion training (SERE) exercise. The idea was we had successfully ejected from a crippled aircraft over enemy territory and needed to find a safe place for helicopter extraction by our own forces. The setting was an open field near woods with thick underbrush. All we had was what was in our packs in the ejection seat package. Saving time and moving quickly, polar opposites, were paramount as enemy troops were all around us, possibly having seen our parachutes descend. Earlier in the day, as preparation for my B-1 bomber flight, I had learned to manage a parachute fall using virtual-reality goggles and hanging in a harness. Right after my virtual chute had opened, I looked up and saw a twisted canopy. Using the "bicycle-peddling" technique, I managed to untangle it, then scan the ground a few thousand feet below for a suitable landing site. Forbes writer Jim Clash with TSgt Kyle Bartlett during a SERE field training exercise, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 24, 2025. A noticeable wind was pushing me toward dangerous trees, and I had to maneuver, using a pull chord on each side of my head, to avoid hitting them. I did miss them, barely, and landed at the edge of some undergrowth. Back to the field exercise. First thing we did, under the guidance of TSgt Kyle Bartlett, SERE NCOIC 7th OSS, one of four SERE specialists at Dyess, was to hide the sprawled-out parachute on the ground, making it more difficult for the enemy to spot. Then we hightailed it to the woods and fired up our walkie-talkie radio to formulate a rescue plan with friendlies. Codes were used to verify it was actually us calling. The Airmen are trained in both survival and in how to handle enemy interrogation situations. Forbes writer Jim Clash takes direction from TSgt Kyle Bartlett in the field during SERE simulation training, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 24, 2025. Right off, I learned I shouldn't have worn shorts. Cutting through the thick underbrush, a combination of mesquite and thorny bushes, made for painful going. Contacting friendlies every few minutes on the radio kept them abreast of our progress. We were told to aim for a lake ahead as the extraction target. About to cross a dirt road, I spied a machine gun-toting enemy soldier on patrol. I motioned to the others to stay down and keep quiet. Evidently, he didn't see us because he kept walking. Just as I was about to signal it was safe, the soldier stopped for some reason. Again, we all hunkered down and kept radio-silence. Once it was finally deemed safe, we crept across the road in the direction of the lake. Once we saw it, I made a bee-line, but TSgt Bartlett warned me to stay in the brush as that path was taking us into the open. Upon reaching the water, I was instructed to attach a bright flag we had been carrying incognito to a low branch of a close-by tree, then alert the rescue team via radio. They arrived within minutes. Somehow, we had made it. SERE field training, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 24, 2025. This was nothing but a simple training exercise with dummy soldiers and predictable parameters. The entire SERE course for Airmen lasts about six months, with 85% of those who attempt it flunking out. I was stressed enough just participating, even though I had done something similar under brutal arctic conditions at Eielson AFB in Fairbanks, Alaska. Now imagine what it's like for Airmen under real combat conditions. Again, respect for our military. They do a hell of a job under incredibly challenging conditions. There is a lot more at stake for them than just cut-up knees.
Forbes
02-04-2025
- Automotive
- Forbes
The B-1 Bomber: ‘Listen, Hear My Engines Roar'
A B-1 engine at full throttle as Forbes writer Jim Clash looks on in the test chamber, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 28, 2025. In Part 1 and Part 2 of this series about Dyess Air Force Base in Abilene, Texas, we covered my recent supersonic B-1 flight with the 9th Bomb Squadron - and my immersion into the base's Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) unit, complete with bomb suit. Here, in Part 3, we focus on maintenance of the B-1 bomber's formidable engines. As reported earlier, four General Electric F101-GE-102 turbofan engines power the aircraft. During takeoff and supersonic runs, the afterburners typically are lit. At that level, each engine puts out more than 30,000 lbs. of thrust, and, collectively, the four gulp more than 240,000 lbs. of fuel per hour. Given such high demands, engines occasionally break down. To prevent that, they must pass regularly scheduled inspections after 200 flying hours, with full-engine teardowns every 4,000 hours. For the inspections, engines are carefully removed from the aircraft and to a special Dyess maintenance area. There, they are rebuilt and refurbished accordingly. During full-throttle B-1 engine testing, all personnel must wear sufficient ear protection, among other things, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 28, 2025. The last step before returning the engines to planes is testing them at full throttle. My photographer, Art Harman, and I were invited to watch this procedure from the chamber where it is done. We were met at Building 5111 by MSgt Nathanael Rehburg, CRF Assistant Flight Chief, 7th CMS. Mind you, there is nothing in that chamber to protect us if something goes awry. Say an engine malfunctioned during a full power test and coughed up a blade or two, or if it exploded - or if the thing came out of its confines and the jet nozzle sprayed in our direction - we would be helpless, basically toast. To prevent this nearly impossible occurrence, the engine we encountered had already been run at full power several times prior to our arrival. First, we watched a full test run in the control room. Even from there, it's impressive. A 30-foot focused yellow/blue flame roared from the back of the engine into a narrow concrete tunnel, then vented to the outside air. The spectacle reminded me of the launching of a Saturn V rocket. A B-1 bomber engine sits idle in the Dyess AFB test chamber, Abilene, Texas, March 28, 2025. Once the engine rpm dropped back to idle, and everything was deemed safe, we carefully made our way in to the chamber to watch from there, hugging the near wall as we moved along. For noise, we were given simple earplugs, plus headphones to cover them. All jewelry, cell phones, tape-recorders, watches - anything loose - was left in the control room. As the engine began to rev, we hung on to metal scaffolding along the wall to prevent us from being sucked toward it. First, there was a significant amount of building noise and hurricane-force winds blowing through the chamber. Once the afterburners kicked in, though, it got wild, including palpable rumblings in your chest, plus the added element of heat. I was upfront, closest to the flame. My bare arms and face gradually got hotter and hotter, as if I were in an oven. There was nothing I could do to address the discomfort. I couldn't cover my face with my hands, as I was holding on to the scaffolding for dear life, and I certainly couldn't move back in the line, further from the flames. I guess if there is such a thing as Hades, this is it. View from control room during B-1 engine testing, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 28, 2025. After 30 seconds of full afterburner, which seemed twice as long, everything thankfully was shut down, and it became eerily quiet in the chamber. The engine was ready to go back into service. I knew these monsters were powerful, having been in the B-1 when they kicked in, but being so up close and personal, well… A bit stunned, we politely thanked the maintenance group and continued our tour to the next functional Dyess area. There are many. And no, my hair did not catch on fire, but it had come close. What an experience!
Forbes
01-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Forbes
Dyess' ‘Hurt Locker' Guys Do More Than Jeremy Renner Did In His Hit Film
Forbes writer Jim Clash in EOD suit, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 28, 2025. In Part 1 of this series about my recent visit to Dyess AFB in Abilene, Texas, we covered my rare media flight in a B-1 (link below), a bomber even more lethal than its predecessor, the B-52 - or any other U.S. military aircraft for that matter. Why so deadly? Because the B-1 can carry more ordnance than the B-52, and can fly just a few hundred feet off the ground with a range of 7,500 miles sans refueling. Oh, and it can go supersonic. We maxed out at Mach 1.13 on our sortie to and from Pecos, New Mexico. SSgt Junior Diaz (right) explains bomb defusion to Forbes writer Jim Clash (suit), Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 28, 2025. During that flight, we also sent simulated guided bombs to select targets. The inverse of that, if you will, is defusing bombs on the ground. For that process, I was privileged enough to visit Dyess' EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) unit, a part of the base responsible not for dropping, but for defusing and disposing of live bombs. First, by truck we were escorted to the demolition range, a secure, desert-like area where Airmen train for their dangerous art. After some background about EOD operations and verbal tutoring - much more involved than what's in 'The Hurt Locker' film that won the Academy Award for best picture in 2009 - I was given a full bomb suit to try on as part of my immersion. Crude bomb with inert C-4 used in a EOD immersion with Forbes writer Jim Clash, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 28, 2025. To say it was cumbersome is an understatement. The thing weighs 70 lbs, quite a bit more than the Michelin Man pressure suit I wore on my U-2 flight last summer. The suit is also extremely confining and hot, with no relief other than a small battery-operated fan inside. But most challenging is the limited mobility. Just to walk requires balance and real physical exertion. First, I knelt, then laid down on my stomach and rolled over, the kind of actions the real guys do as a regular part of their jobs. I was out of breath after just a few minutes. The Airmen actually have a gym on premises to stay in shape. Then I was asked to stand up and walk a few hundred yards down-range to where the bomb - a crude homemade device in a brown cardboard box - lurked. Inside was a 9-volt battery connected by wires to a small liquid detonator switch attached to a block (inert) of C-4 explosive. The device was deemed too precarious to defuse by hand, so a sophisticated metal robot was used. Pieces of the crude cardboard box bomb diffused by robot, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 28, 2025. From a distance in a concrete bunker, I pushed a button that sent an electric signal to the robot, which, in turn, fired the shot. A small puff of an explosion ensued, certainly nowhere near what would have been produced had real C-4 detonated. When we went back down to where the bomb had been, small parts of it were scattered. Next, just to gauge the power of a real C-4 block, we set up a detonation system whereby we could electronically set it off from the same bunker. Again, I was given a button to push, and, sure enough, a much more robust explosion ensued in the distance. C-4 detonation, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 28, 2025. After heading back down-range, we encountered a large crater produced by the explosion. It's amazing just how powerful one block of C-4 is. To sum up my brief experience, it's hard to imagine that these EOD Airmen work in such cramped suits for hours at a time, in much harsher conditions and in unfamiliar territory, scouring the ground for all types of unexploded ordnance - land mines, grenades, pipe bombs, radio-controlled IED's - you name it, they encounter it. Starting back left: Staff Sgt. Junior Diaz, A1C Jose Collado, SrA Tylor Van Grinsven, Art Harman (Forbes), SrA Dante Bernardi. Front left: Jim Clash (Forbes), A1C Lillian Lovelace, AlC Dominic Potter. My immersion in just a tiny part of what they do continues to strengthen my belief about the skill and commitment of USAF personnel. Thank you for your service, folks (photo above).
Forbes
27-03-2025
- Business
- Forbes
‘Da Bomb' Of Aircraft, The B-1 Rarely Takes Media Up. But It Took Us
B-1 bomber with Forbes writer Jim Clash aboard taxis out to participate in a supersonic training sortie, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 25, 2025. The B-1B Lancer is the only supersonic bomber still in service within the American military fleet. It has been a workhorse for the U.S. Air Force for nearly four decades. Nicknamed 'the bone,' the plane no longer carries nuclear weapons - the 1994 START treaty prevents that - but it is still highly lethal with a range, without refueling, of 7,500 miles. In fact, the B-1 can carry more ordnance than its venerable predecessor, the B-52. Forbes writer Jim Clash (oxygen mask) hypoxia training for a B-1 flight, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 24, 2024. With four General Electric F101-GE-102 turbofan engines, each producing more than 30,000 pounds of thrust, the B-1 is also a favorite at air shows. The guttural roar of takeoff, then the subsequent high-speed passes over the crowd, is unmistakable, and unforgettable. As with the U-2 spy plane, in which I rode to the edge of space last summer (link at end), the B-1 is difficult for civilians, including the media, to score a ride in. Reportedly, only one journalist has done it - from Newsweek - so I'm to be the second. To say I'm excited goes without saying, but, as with any high-performance aircraft, a little nervous, too. Forbes writer Jim Clash trains in a parachute harness in preparation for his B-1 bomber flight, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 24, 2025. My first day at Dyess AFB in Abilene, Texas, home to two dozen of the remaining B-1s still active, included a mandatory medical exam followed by SERE immersive parachute and ejection seat training - plus suit, helmet and oxygen-mask fittings. While we would be flying over friendly territory, and a B-1 bailout is rare, as a precaution all riders (and pilots) must know what to do in case of an emergency. In 2024, a B-1 crashed upon landing at Ellsworth AFB near Rapid City, South Dakota. The quarter-billion-dollar aircraft was destroyed, but all crew onboard, thankfully, survived. Forbes writer Jim Clash boards a B-1 bomber, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 25, 2025. During our mission, conducted by Dyess' 9th Bomb Wing ('Death From Above'), I was to be one of four on the plane: pilot Lt Col Ryan 'Duke' Stillwell, Commander of the 9th; copilot Capt Jordan 'Offset' Dobranski; Capt Nicholas 'King' George, offensive weapons systems officer; and a defensive one (me). The two weapons guys' seats are located in a separate area behind the pilots' cockpit, so it's difficult to see much during takeoff because of the tiny windows back there. For such a large aircraft, like with the B-52, the B-1 is incredibly cramped. Most of the space is used to carry bombs and fuel. B-1 bomber carrying Forbes writer Jim Clash takes off with full afterburners from Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 25, 2025. After boarding the plane, code-named Dark 26, via steps underneath the fuselage, then strapping into our seats, the hatch was sealed and we took on more than 100,000 pounds of fuel. An emergency incident involving a potential brake fire in another B-1 delayed our sortie by a little over an hour. Once we did taxi out to the runway, the ejection seat was set to automatic for takeoff, meaning if one person initiated bailout, all four would go quickly and sequentially, the back crew first, then the front. USAF Lt Col Ryan 'Duke' Stillwell at the controls of a B-1 bomber high above Texas, March 25, 2025. Despite my obscured view, the takeoff got my attention. It's not as violent as the fighter jets I've flown in, but still intense. Those four GE engines at full thrust each blast out a 30-foot-long orange/blue flame and push you back into your seat with the force of a couple of Gs. Once airborne and above 10,000 feet, we put our ejection seats into the manual mode, and Stillwell let me unbuckle and swap places with Dobranski to watch the action from upfront. En route, Stillwell let me take the controls for a few minutes. For such a big plane, it was very responsive to stick and throttle inputs, and handled well. Forbes writer Jim Clash in a B-1 bomber over Texas, March 25, 2025. Upon reaching Pecos, New Mexico, we, along with our wingman B-1 Dark 27, unloaded smart bombs over targets, executing three separate rolls in the process. We only pulled 2.6 Gs on each roll, but it felt like a lot more. If you're wondering, there is usually a small bathroom on board. Crews can be in the air for more than 24 hours straight, so it comes in handy. We were in the air for only an hour and 45 minutes, so our B-1 didn't have that latrine, but we did have little piddle-paks. Bombing mission complete, it was back to Dyess. On the way, we went supersonic. For that, the variable sweep wings were pulled back for less air resistance, then we accelerated over a restricted area where supersonic flights are permitted. In populated areas, anything above Mach 1 is prohibited due to loud sonic booms. B-1 bomber's shadow just before landing at Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 25, 2025. Starting a dive at 17,000 feet, we maxed out at Mach 1.13 down at 14,000 feet, damn impressive for such a heavy beast. With full afterburners, we were burning fuel at a rate of more than 300,000 pounds per hour. Before landing back on terra firma, we did a quick touch-and-go to help train copilot Dobranski. Once we did land, I was pretty stoked. It was the eighth separate plane in which I had flown supersonic, probably a record for non-pilots. I'm going to submit it to Guinness World Records. Seems a lot more valid than some of the wacky stuff they certify these days. Forbes writer Jim Clash and the B-1 he just flew supersonic in, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 25, 2025. What's next? Now that I've flown in two of the three iconic American bombers still active - the B-1 and B-52 - I'm eyeing the stealthy, bat-like B-2 Spirit and the inactive B-29. Of course there's the SR-71 Blackbird, no longer in service as far as the public has been told. Even if one of them were still flying, the chances of getting onboard are about the same as visiting verboten Area 51. Editor's Note: This is Part 1 of a series about Dyess AFB and the B-1. More installments are forthcoming shortly.
