Sorry - no pictures
By LtCol. A.J. D'Amario USAF Ret. From the pages of the American
Rifleman, November 2013.
On my first solo flight at K-13, Suwan, Korea, in June 1952, I took
off in an F-80 Shooting Star. It was not a combat mission. All I had
to do was go up and have fun boring holes in the sky for about an
hour and a half.
Immediately after takeoff, I felt the left wing was heavy and
determined that the left tip fuel tank was not feeding properly or
not at all. Afraid it might fall off and rupture during landing,
potentially melting asphalt on the runway, the tower would not let me
land with the full tank. I was instructed to make a bomb run and drop
the whole tank.
Arriving at the bomb range, I set up my bomb-release switches to
release the tank. Flying over the impact area, I pushed the button
but nothing happened. I tried a second time and again there was no
response. On my next pass, I tried the manual release handle but to
no avail. Making one final run, I used the button we called the
"panic button" because it allegedly released everything hanging on
the airplane. It worked as advertised and dumped everything, save my
errant left tip tank.
The tower control officer advised me that if I couldn't get rid of
the tank or its contents, I should give them my location, eject and
await pickup.
Well. Pilots really hate to punch out of a perfectly flyable airplane
and I figured I still had one option worth trying.
The canopy of an F-80 can be opened in flight up to about 220 MPH. So
I opened the canopy and upholstered my G.I. Issue Colt M1911 .45
automatic.
Now, liquid fuel will not burn, at least not like vapors, so I aimed
for the part of the tank I was sure would be full of liquid. Firing
my first shot, I had no idea where the bullet went--perhaps airborne,
high-speed physics were at work, or maybe just my nerves. But my next
three shots punctured the tank, passing through the fuel and exiting
cleanly out the far side of the 24" wide tank.
For the next thirty minutes, I flew with the left wing down in a
series of circles to drain the fuel and slowly return to base. By the
time I got to the airstrip the tank was empty. I made a routine
landing. As far as I know, I am the only pilot in the Air Force who
ever shot his own plane to correct a malfunction.
Thank goodness for my .45.
Lt.Col. A.J. D'Amario, USAF Ret. Florida
By LtCol. A.J. D'Amario USAF Ret. From the pages of the American
Rifleman, November 2013.
On my first solo flight at K-13, Suwan, Korea, in June 1952, I took
off in an F-80 Shooting Star. It was not a combat mission. All I had
to do was go up and have fun boring holes in the sky for about an
hour and a half.
Immediately after takeoff, I felt the left wing was heavy and
determined that the left tip fuel tank was not feeding properly or
not at all. Afraid it might fall off and rupture during landing,
potentially melting asphalt on the runway, the tower would not let me
land with the full tank. I was instructed to make a bomb run and drop
the whole tank.
Arriving at the bomb range, I set up my bomb-release switches to
release the tank. Flying over the impact area, I pushed the button
but nothing happened. I tried a second time and again there was no
response. On my next pass, I tried the manual release handle but to
no avail. Making one final run, I used the button we called the
"panic button" because it allegedly released everything hanging on
the airplane. It worked as advertised and dumped everything, save my
errant left tip tank.
The tower control officer advised me that if I couldn't get rid of
the tank or its contents, I should give them my location, eject and
await pickup.
Well. Pilots really hate to punch out of a perfectly flyable airplane
and I figured I still had one option worth trying.
The canopy of an F-80 can be opened in flight up to about 220 MPH. So
I opened the canopy and upholstered my G.I. Issue Colt M1911 .45
automatic.
Now, liquid fuel will not burn, at least not like vapors, so I aimed
for the part of the tank I was sure would be full of liquid. Firing
my first shot, I had no idea where the bullet went--perhaps airborne,
high-speed physics were at work, or maybe just my nerves. But my next
three shots punctured the tank, passing through the fuel and exiting
cleanly out the far side of the 24" wide tank.
For the next thirty minutes, I flew with the left wing down in a
series of circles to drain the fuel and slowly return to base. By the
time I got to the airstrip the tank was empty. I made a routine
landing. As far as I know, I am the only pilot in the Air Force who
ever shot his own plane to correct a malfunction.
Thank goodness for my .45.
Lt.Col. A.J. D'Amario, USAF Ret. Florida
Hey Joe, I think this maybe the longest running thread on CGN!...Trolls must be busy elsewhere!? 
