Soviet Archive | Afterburner - MiGFlug's Magazine

B-52 with H-Bombs crashes in Greenland due to a cushion

Philipp — Thu, 27 Feb 2025 10:57:01 +0000

The Flight of HOBO 28: A Cozy Catastrophe Imagine, if you will, a B-52G Stratofortress, a titan of the skies, soaring over the frigid expanse of Greenland. It's 1968, and this isn't just any flight; HOBO 28 carries four Mark 28 F1 hydrogen bombs, each a potential city-eraser. The mission, a part of the Cold War's "Chrome Dome" operations, was to keep 12 nuclear-armed bombers airborne at all times, 24 hours a day. A constant, chilling reminder of mutually assured destruction. One of those B-52s constantly circled the important radar station near the USAF Thule airbase, Northern Greenland. Its additional task was to act as an airborne monitor and report to the US if the Soviets would take out that extremely important nearby radar station - which would have likely been one of the very first Soviet targets in an attack. That radar was so powerful, it could detect a tennis ball thousands of miles away. It was one of three radars of the Ballistic Missile Early Warning System (BMEWS). Nobody would have noticed an attack on the radar due to its isolation. The solution? A flying monitor with four H-bombs. What could possibly go wrong?

Operation Chrome Dome flights. Hobo 28 flew in an "8" pattern around Thule airbase and the radar station (orange arrow)

The crew of HOBO 28, flying in the mid-afternoon darkness over Northern Greenland on January 21st, 1968, bundled against the biting Arctic cold, were conducting what was meant to be a routine patrol. Already the start wasn't promising - the autopilot didn't work, so the pilot had to keep the aircraft in position for the refueling for half an hour, a very demanding and intense experience. Within the cramped confines of the bomber, a seemingly innocuous act would set off a chain of catastrophic events. Seeking a bit of warmth in the frigid cabin, a crew member made the ill-advised decision to place one of the seat cushions near a heating vent, where the hot air came in from the engine compressors. Little did they know, this simple action would soon transform their mission into a desperate struggle for survival.

The four AN/EPS-50 early warning radar antennas at the Ballistic Missile Early Warning System site. At the far right, an antenna dome.

"Ass cushion" with a core of so-called solid gasoline

On the upper deck, the crew smelled something like burned rubber and tried to figure out where it came from. What happened? Those cushions, nicknamed "ass cushions", had a polyurethane core. This material is described by firemen as "solid gasoline" because it is highly inflammable. As the heaters worked their magic, one cushion in the lower deck began to smolder, then ignite. By the time they had figured out what happened, they had to deal with a solid fire. Two fire extinguishers were emptied, but due to the highly inflammable filling of the cushions, without success. In the upper deck meanwhile, Smoke, thick and acrid, quickly filled the air, obscuring the instrument panels and choking the air. Now battling fire and disorientation, the crew donned their oxygen masks. Mayday! The Captain, John Haug, decided to try an emergency landing at Thule airbase, but couldn't do much due to the thick smoke. Then they lost power. As he couldn't see the light of the airbase outside, he figured out that they must be above the base. The situation rapidly deteriorated, and John Haug was forced to make a grim decision: abandon ship.

One by one, the crew members ejected into the unforgiving Arctic air. Six of the seven parachuted to safety. Tragically, one crew member, co-pilot Leonard Svitenko, who took a rest and had given up his ejection seat, was killed. He tried to bail out through one of the lower hatches head first, but the air stream slammed him right back into the aircraft. The B-52, now a ghost ship, continued its flight, a fiery tomb hurtling towards the icy embrace of Wolstenholme Fjord.

Thule Radar (Site J), Thule Air Base (Pituffik), and the approximate crash site of Hobo 28, 12.1km/7.5mi West of Thule Air Base, onto the floating ice in North Star Bay.

"Major, I wouldn't go within 3000ft of that son of a bitch."

The Hobo 28 Crash site. Blackened ice, the point of impact is at the top.

The impact was devastating. The conventional explosives within the bombs detonated, rupturing the nuclear warheads and scattering radioactive debris across the frozen landscape. The bombs were not armed, otherwise the nuclear explosion could have easily led to WWIII, as the US might have interpreted it as a Soviet attack on their crucial artic base. But that is pure speculation. Following the ejection, some of the crew members had made it to Thule airbase and let their commander in Omaha know that they had a so-called "broken arrow" incident - which stands for an accident involving nuclear weapons. Captain Criss, who was the first to leave the plane, floated on an ice floe for 21 hours before he was found. He was severely hypothermic and only survived because he had wrapped himself in his parachute. The following conversation took place between the base commander and the B-52s co-pilot, D'Amario: "Were you carrying nuclear bombs?" "Major, as you know, I can neither confirm nor deny the presence of nuclear weapons aboard an airplane." "I know that. But I really have to know." "I know that, but I'm not allowed to tell you." "Let me put it another way. I'm sending out rescue parties, I need to know how close they can safely approach the crash site!" "Major, I wouldn't go within 3000ft of that son of a bitch." "That tells me all that I need to know."

Denmark, the sovereign power over Greenland, was a self-proclaimed nuclear-free zone and was quick to announce to their own population that there couldn't be any nukes involved, as there is no such thing in Denmark (and Greenland). But in fact, there was a secret deal between Denmark and the US, letting the US indeed have Nukes over Greenland. After all, Denmark profited from the US Nuclear umbrella. Only in 1995 was that revealed. The revelation that the U.S. had been flying nuclear-armed bombers over their territory, in direct violation of their nuclear-free policy, sparked a political scandal - "Thulegate".

"Operation Crested Ice" was launched, a herculean effort to clean up the radioactive mess. In the brutal Arctic conditions, with temperatures plummeting to unimaginable lows and gale-force winds whipping across the ice, teams of airmen meticulously searched for every piece of wreckage. They braved the darkness and the cold, their Geiger counters clicking, their mission to recover every contaminated fragment. The local Inuits had to help them by building igloos for protection. Imagine that the world's most powerful and advanced military power relies on Inuits to build igloos for them! They found 3 of the 4 cores, but one crucial piece, the secondary stage of a nuclear weapon, a cylinder of uranium and lithium deuteride, remained elusive, lost somewhere in the depths of the fjord. After they tried everything, it was decided that if they couldn't find that missing cylinder, nobody else could.

Lingering Shadows and Enduring Lessons

Thule Air Base

The Thule incident serves as a stark reminder of the dangers of the Cold War, a time when the world teetered on the brink of nuclear annihilation. It's a tale of human error, technological hubris, and the enduring power of nature. Even today, the incident casts a long shadow. The missing nuclear component, though unlikely to detonate, remains a chilling reminder of the potential consequences of our actions. Thule Air Base, now a vital radar outpost, is a testament to the Arctic's ongoing strategic importance.

Safety first. Always.

We hope we didn't scare you too much. We at MiGFlug always put safety above everything else—as should be the norm in aviation. Hence, we have been incident-free since we started in 2004, for over twenty years now, and we intend to keep it that way. We have very well-maintained aircraft, professional pilots, and, above all, no solid gasoline cushion anywhere near our jets! If you want to learn more about MiGFlug's fighter jet flights, look here.

The Craziest Soviet Machines

Philipp — Thu, 27 Jan 2022 10:28:26 +0000

Mikoyan MiG-25 Foxbat, we at MiGFlug always had a soft spot for the fantastic Soviet creations that saw the daylight. After all, the interest in that stuff and all related to the Cold War has started the process that in the end brought us the rather odd business we are having today. At times one could think some of the Soviet engineers got their primary inspiration from the drawings of their kids. So much fantasy, such crazy concepts. Bigger is better. Often very futuristic, with meanwhile some added rust, a combination that also in architecture leads to a special charm. Since we know that it is not just us but also many MiGFlug customers and followers that share our interest in those creations from another world, we would like to share some of the masterpieces with you. There are plenty of amazing and surprising Soviet driving vehicles, but given our business, we will mainly focus on flying vehicles here.

1. KM Ekranoplan - The Caspian Sea Monster

KM Ekranoplan, nicknamed "Caspian Sea Monster" by the CIA

When Boats Learned to Fly (Sort Of)

Imagine a vehicle so bizarre, so utterly out there, that it makes a submarine riding a unicycle look normal. That's the KM Ekranoplan, or as the CIA dramatically dubbed it, "The Caspian Sea Monster." This wasn't your run-of-the-mill plane or boat; it was a glorious, gravity-defying hybrid, a "boat that flies," and it debuted in the Soviet Union in 1966 with a ceremonial champagne smash. So, how did this beast of a machine pull off its aerial acrobatics? It harnessed the "ground effect," a nifty little trick where air gets squished under low-flying wings, creating a high-pressure cushion. Think of it like a hovercraft, but way, way cooler. Seabirds use it, airplanes use it (just before landing), and the Soviets decided to weaponize it. When the CIA's satellites spotted this monstrosity skimming across the Caspian Sea, they freaked out. Seriously. They were so spooked, they cooked up a plan to strap a camera to a robotic bird to get a closer look. (Spoiler: the robotic bird kept face-planting, proving that even spies have bad days.)

Speed, Stealth, and a Potential San Francisco Surprise

The Lun - able to fire six nuclear-capable Moskit missiles

Why the panic? Well, the Caspian Sea Monster could hit a blistering 650 kilometers per hour (that's 400mph), skim over minefields like they were daisies, and fly so low that most radar systems couldn't even see it coming. One analyst even suggested that the Soviets could invade San Francisco in three hours, and nobody would know until they were sipping vodka on the Golden Gate Bridge.

From Monster to Missile Platform to Demise (Sort Of)

The Lun in 2010

And if that wasn't terrifying enough, the Soviets decided to upgrade their monster. After the original Ekranoplan crashed in 1980 due to pilot error (oops!), they unveiled the Lun in 1987. This bad boy wasn't just fast; it was armed to the teeth with six nuclear-capable Moskit missiles, turning it into a flying battleship straight out of a Cold War fever dream. Sadly, the Ekranoplan project was shelved as the Soviet Union crumbled and the money dried up. But here's the kicker: one of these beasts, the Lun, is still out there, rusting away on a barge along Russia's southern coastline. It's a relic of a bygone era, a reminder of a time when the Soviets were pushing the boundaries of technology to truly wild extremes. In July 2020, the massive Lun-class ekranoplan, destined for a Russian military theme park in Derbent, was towed from its naval base. However, its journey hit a snag when it got stuck on a sandy beach, just short of its destination. Despite attempts to free it, the "monster" remained beached, attracting curious onlookers and media attention. Concerns arose about hull damage from waves. Finally, in December 2020, it was successfully pulled further ashore, and by December 2021, fully onto dry land.

So if you're ever near the Caspian Sea, keep an eye out. You might just spot a monster lurking.

2. Mil V-12: The Unreal Giant

A Giant Takes Flight

Picture this: a helicopter so colossal it resembles a praying mantis showing off its might. This isn't a scene from a sci-fi film, but the real deal—the Mil V-12 helicopter. Unveiled by the Mil Moscow Helicopter Plant in 1968, this behemoth of the skies was poised to make history.

Stats and Stature

Aeroflot Mil V-12 - Western observers could only guess the purpose of this giant helicopter. By the 1970s the Soviets did not have a purpose for that monster (other than impressing crowds).

Stretching an unbelievable 67 meters from one rotor-tip to the other, the Mil V-12 needed not one, not two, but six crew members (including an electrician) just to keep it airborne. This wasn't your average helicopter—it was a monster designed to transport intercontinental nuclear missiles.

Breaking Records

The Mil V-12 wasn't just about looks. In 1969, a courageous test crew flew this giant carrying a jaw-dropping 40,000-kilogram load to an altitude of 2.25 kilometers. This feat set a helicopter-weightlifting record that remains unbeaten even today.

The Shift in Strategy

In 2009, the Mil V-12 made a comeback as "World’s first Hotelicopter", an April Fool's joke with photoshopped images.

However, by the time the Mil V-12 was ready to roll, the world had moved on. The development of massive missile trucks that could travel, stand upright, and launch missiles offered a more efficient way to execute the same mission. As a result, the two Mil V-12 helicopters that were built were retired in 1974. One of these legendary machines can still be seen at the Central Airforce Museum near Moscow, in Monino.

The Mil V-12 in the Central Airforce Museum in Monino, near Moscow. Having been there several times in the early days of MiGFlug, let us assure you that this beast is rather impressive.

3. Zveno Project: The Flying Aircraft Carrier

The Zveno Project - a TB-1 or a TB-3 heavy bomber as mothership, carrying two to five fighter aircraft.

A giant bomber carrying multiple fighter planes like a mother bird with its chicks. This was the Zveno project, an ambitious aviation concept developed in the Soviet Union during the 1930s. Brainchild of aviation engineer Vladimir Vakhmistrov, the Zveno system combined a heavy bomber, either the Tupolev TB-1 or TB-3, with two to five fighter aircraft. Depending on the variant, these fighters either launched with the bomber or docked mid-flight, and they could even refuel from the mothership. The most renowned version, the Zveno-SPB, featured a TB-3 bomber and two Polikarpov I-16 fighters, each armed with 250 kg bombs. This strategic combo proved its mettle during the early stages of the German-Soviet War, striking targets in Romania and a crucial bridge over the River Dnieper under German control.

Development and Design

The Zveno-2: Tupolev TB-3 and three Polikarpov I-5, with the ramp for loading the fighters.

Conceived in the late 1920s under the guidance of esteemed aeronautical engineer Andrei Tupolev, the TB-3 was one of the world’s first all-metal monoplane heavy bombers. It marked a significant leap in aircraft design, boasting impressive size and payload capacity, and incorporating advanced features for its time. The TB-3's airframe, made entirely of corrugated sheet metal, provided exceptional strength and durability. Equipped with four powerful engines mounted on its thick, straight wings, the TB-3 had the necessary lift and thrust to carry heavy payloads over long distances. Despite its size, it was adaptable and could carry various payloads, including bombs and cargo. Its robust undercarriage allowed it to operate from rough airfields, a common necessity in the Soviet Union. Tupolev’s design also focused on crew comfort and efficiency. The cockpit and crew compartments were insulated and heated, a rare feature in bombers of that era. This attention to the human element of aviation reflected Tupolev’s holistic approach to aircraft design.

The Genesis of the Zveno Project

All variants of the Zveno project

The Zveno Project, conceived in the early 1930s, was born out of a strategic need to enhance the operational range and effectiveness of fighter aircraft. By attaching smaller fighters to a larger bomber mothership, the project aimed to extend their range, conserve fuel for combat operations near the target, and maximize their effectiveness in battle. Vakhmistrov’s idea was groundbreaking. The TB-3, with its large size, robust design, and significant payload capacity, was the ideal platform. It had the power and structural integrity to carry multiple fighters and deploy them in flight. The Zveno project represented a radical departure from traditional aviation tactics and strategies, showcasing incredible ingenuity and paving the way for future aerial innovations. While the Zveno Project may have been challenging and sometimes cumbersome, it remains a fascinating chapter in aviation history. Its innovative approach and daring design continue to capture the imagination and inspire future generations of aviation enthusiasts.