Black strip on fighter inner wings (1 Viewer)

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SirFrancis

Airman 1st Class
163
76
Feb 10, 2022
Hey guys, just realised I left this bit off my Bearcat. Was it a non-slip tread? I've noticed some models have it on, some don't. Anyone know what the story is? Was it non-standard?

ok cheers
 

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Ok I suspected as much. So if I'm depicting my Bearcat accurately should it have it? Was it applied at the factory? Perhaps during resprays in the field it was sometimes missed?
cheers

Most of the time it would be applied at the factory.

Not every aircraft type had this.
 
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Obviously, low wing aircraft with a canopy above the wing. A VERY important addition, and often the non-skid surface is present without being painted black. Also, a standard feature in all types of low wing civil aircraft and trainers like Beech from stagger wings to Bonanzas, Piper Comanche, Cherokee, T-6, Stearman, Mooney, etc.
This is critical, especially with oil spewing radials, as the airfoil slopes down and there's seldom any hand hold available. Obviously, tail draggers are especially treacherous.
I flew ADs in the Navy, and not only was the 3350 an oil burner, but the filler cap was right above the wing root. Quite a few pilots literally busted their butts sliding off a wing, and a slick surface was a "Down Gripe" in the training command.
This was a CONSTANT maintenance item. Two techniques were involved. In either case, the surface HAD to be stripped down to a bare, scrupulously clean surface. Then a slow drying, often thicker paint was applied, and grit or even just sand was evenly applied was it was still wet. We'd brush the surface when dry to remove excess grit, then spray a thinner layer of sealant. In recent years, epoxies have become common.
The other involves specially designed non-skid panels ... either with aggressive peel off adhesive backing, or using strong glues are applied. You may even see these applied to wing struts or entry steps where appropriate. They usually extend beyond the cockpit, as maintenance people have to service the engine, guns, access panels there ... not only needing to protect flyboys.
Regarding your Bearcat, YES, it would be NEEDED ... though often not black, matching colors. Only exceptions would be air racers doing everything to eke out every knot ... and being daredevils, taking a risk.
 
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Obviously, low wing aircraft with a canopy above the wing. A VERY important addition, and often the non-skid surface is present without being painted black. Also, a standard feature in all types of low wing civil aircraft and trainers like Beech from stagger wings to Bonanzas, Piper Comanche, Cherokee, T-6, Stearman, Mooney, etc.
This is critical, especially with oil spewing radials, as the airfoil slopes down and there's seldom any hand hold available. Obviously, tail draggers are especially treacherous.
I flew ADs in the Navy, and not only was the 3350 an oil burner, but the filler cap was right above the wing root. Quite a few pilots literally busted their butts sliding off a wing, and a slick surface was a "Down Gripe" in the training command.
This was a CONSTANT maintenance item. Two techniques were involved. In either case, the surface HAD to be stripped down to a bare, scrupulously clean surface. Then a slow drying, often thicker paint was applied, and grit or even just sand was evenly applied was it was still wet. We'd brush the surface when dry to remove excess grit, then spray a thinner layer of sealant. In recent years, epoxies have become common.
The other involves specially designed non-skid panels ... either with aggressive peel off adhesive backing, or using strong glues are applied. You may even see these applied to wing struts or entry steps where appropriate. They usually extend beyond the cockpit, as maintenance people have to service the engine, guns, access panels there ... not only needing to protect flyboys.
Regarding your Bearcat, YES, it would be NEEDED ... though often not black, matching colors. Only exceptions would be air racers doing everything to eke out every knot ... and being daredevils, taking a risk.
Ok well if they were often matching colour, then at my bearcat's 1/72 scale I could leave it I suppose. I have also weathered extra patches down to aluminium in that area so applying black now would be tricky.

cheers
 

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On a few museum models that I've made, I used very thin garnet paper, different grits on a thin paper or mylar backing. I'd trim to size, and glue in place, then paint over with a dust coat. I even found that by heating carefully, the mylar will adapt to compound curves.
For the black adhesive antiskid strips, you could use the appropriate grit of emery paper.

One thought. Resist the temptation to go too wild with the weathered bits. They occur mostly on leading edges, around fuel fillers, access panel edges, etc.
 
On a few museum models that I've made, I used very thin garnet paper, different grits on a thin paper or mylar backing. I'd trim to size, and glue in place, then paint over with a dust coat. I even found that by heating carefully, the mylar will adapt to compound curves.
For the black adhesive antiskid strips, you could use the appropriate grit of emery paper.

One thought. Resist the temptation to go too wild with the weathered bits. They occur mostly on leading edges, around fuel fillers, access panel edges, etc.
Yeah I know what you mean. I like going berserk with the weathering and then when I look over it I think hmmm looks like its been abandoned and left to decay for decades, rather than normal service weathering. But I'm still experimenting with this stuff. You're right need more realism on where to do it as well. I'll try to do some panel edges...that will test my meager skills. My original idea was leading edges and tread area near wing root. But got carried away. grrrr. Ah it's those French mechanics scrambling all over my bird making a mess....
 
I lost a prop on a T-6 once, one blade at a time.

It was about '59 or '60 when I was a high school student and ferrying a very neglected T-6 civilian bird from the Confederate Air Force field in Harlingen to San Antonio. The Maytag Messerschmidt was long gone from the AF inventory, replaced by T-34s and underpowered T-28As. At the time if someone put gas in the tank, I'd fly it for free. Only had a private ticket due to my young age.

Actually, I had gone down the previous weekend and test flown the bird, long a ramp queen with holes in the fabric surfaces. IIRC, it had a half-assed annual by a duster A&P, involving a couple jugs, a new carb and probably some old sheets doped on the flippers. Lots of parts were missing and we robbed enough instruments from the back seat to be almost flyable. The prop wouldn't cycle right, and was stuck in fine pitch, so I probably wouldn't have had enough gas to make SA even if I could stand the whine.

I somehow was smart enuf to ride the big gray dog back home instead of taking a chance. (for the few friends who'd pay attention to my wild flying foolishness accounts, I tend to neglect to mention the many long bus rides so often involved back in the day!)

A week later they said the Texan was ready, and I again slept on the bus for the Friday night eight hour ride South. They had replaced a few hoses that were leaking too much, even for me, and managed to find a compass that kinda worked right. Apparently, they had not taken the prop apart, but lots of 3 in 1 oil and both blades seemed to change pitch on demand. So, I set out.

Made it most of the way uneventfully enough that I don't remember any drama until I was passing Hondo, a WWII B-24 training base where our glider club kept our Schweizer TG-3. Everything happened in a blur ... literally.

A loud noise, incredible vibration, then the engine screaming until I slammed the throttle and hit the master. I was confused that the prop never stopped, but was occupied in setting up a glide to the convenient, unused airfield. Lots of oil smeared on windshield.

As I silently aimed for Hondo, I cracked the canopy for visibility, managed to shake gear down and locked, and made the field easily. (Started my flying in gliders … remember!) Landed on the BIG ramp, managing to roll right up to our glider club hanger. Probably was full of adrenaline and rather shaky as I just sat and took stock. Only then did I finally come to the realization that the prop was gone. One blade had departed, then it shook like a paint shaker for probably about a second before the second blade thankfully left. (In SW TX then you needn't worry about casualties on the ground … unless you're a rabbit and lizard lovin' PETA member!)

Gracefully alighting, I slipped and fell on my butt, sliding hard to the concrete with all the high-grade oil all over the now well lubricated, formerly abrasive walkway. Initially had thoughts about getting a new prop to see if I could still manage to get it to San Antone that weekend. Then noticed that the cowl seemed to be partly open. When I saw the hub split open and the R-1340 lopsided in the cowl, I'm not sure how my legs supported me. The engine was hanging from only one Lord mount (out of four).

Looking it over, wrinkled skins and popped rivets were everywhere. They scrapped the Texan on the spot.

I believe the same bus driver I rode down with took me the rest of the way home on his way back from Harlingen.
 
I lost a prop on a T-6 once, one blade at a time.

It was about '59 or '60 when I was a high school student and ferrying a very neglected T-6 civilian bird from the Confederate Air Force field in Harlingen to San Antonio. The Maytag Messerschmidt was long gone from the AF inventory, replaced by T-34s and underpowered T-28As. At the time if someone put gas in the tank, I'd fly it for free. Only had a private ticket due to my young age.

Actually, I had gone down the previous weekend and test flown the bird, long a ramp queen with holes in the fabric surfaces. IIRC, it had a half-assed annual by a duster A&P, involving a couple jugs, a new carb and probably some old sheets doped on the flippers. Lots of parts were missing and we robbed enough instruments from the back seat to be almost flyable. The prop wouldn't cycle right, and was stuck in fine pitch, so I probably wouldn't have had enough gas to make SA even if I could stand the whine.

I somehow was smart enuf to ride the big gray dog back home instead of taking a chance. (for the few friends who'd pay attention to my wild flying foolishness accounts, I tend to neglect to mention the many long bus rides so often involved back in the day!)

A week later they said the Texan was ready, and I again slept on the bus for the Friday night eight hour ride South. They had replaced a few hoses that were leaking too much, even for me, and managed to find a compass that kinda worked right. Apparently, they had not taken the prop apart, but lots of 3 in 1 oil and both blades seemed to change pitch on demand. So, I set out.

Made it most of the way uneventfully enough that I don't remember any drama until I was passing Hondo, a WWII B-24 training base where our glider club kept our Schweizer TG-3. Everything happened in a blur ... literally.

A loud noise, incredible vibration, then the engine screaming until I slammed the throttle and hit the master. I was confused that the prop never stopped, but was occupied in setting up a glide to the convenient, unused airfield. Lots of oil smeared on windshield.

As I silently aimed for Hondo, I cracked the canopy for visibility, managed to shake gear down and locked, and made the field easily. (Started my flying in gliders … remember!) Landed on the BIG ramp, managing to roll right up to our glider club hanger. Probably was full of adrenaline and rather shaky as I just sat and took stock. Only then did I finally come to the realization that the prop was gone. One blade had departed, then it shook like a paint shaker for probably about a second before the second blade thankfully left. (In SW TX then you needn't worry about casualties on the ground … unless you're a rabbit and lizard lovin' PETA member!)

Gracefully alighting, I slipped and fell on my butt, sliding hard to the concrete with all the high-grade oil all over the now well lubricated, formerly abrasive walkway. Initially had thoughts about getting a new prop to see if I could still manage to get it to San Antone that weekend. Then noticed that the cowl seemed to be partly open. When I saw the hub split open and the R-1340 lopsided in the cowl, I'm not sure how my legs supported me. The engine was hanging from only one Lord mount (out of four).

Looking it over, wrinkled skins and popped rivets were everywhere. They scrapped the Texan on the spot.

I believe the same bus driver I rode down with took me the rest of the way home on his way back from Harlingen.
Lol, well that certainly was an adventure... the way you survived that trip you seemed to have all the luck going for you so I thought were going to say you slipped on the wing did a flip and landed on your feet.... lol....great story one for the grand kids....
 
I was a football player, but no where agile enough to react that quickly. A lot of air and ground crew wound up with broken hips and cracked coccyx, which is almost as debilitating.
If the engine had left, and I somehow survived impact, it was nothing but scrub ranchland below, and as the airport was unmonitored and I was not on a flight plan, I may not have been found for days ... even though within a couple miles of town.
 
I lost a prop on a T-6 once, one blade at a time.

It was about '59 or '60 when I was a high school student and ferrying a very neglected T-6 civilian bird from the Confederate Air Force field in Harlingen to San Antonio. The Maytag Messerschmidt was long gone from the AF inventory, replaced by T-34s and underpowered T-28As. At the time if someone put gas in the tank, I'd fly it for free. Only had a private ticket due to my young age.

Actually, I had gone down the previous weekend and test flown the bird, long a ramp queen with holes in the fabric surfaces. IIRC, it had a half-assed annual by a duster A&P, involving a couple jugs, a new carb and probably some old sheets doped on the flippers. Lots of parts were missing and we robbed enough instruments from the back seat to be almost flyable. The prop wouldn't cycle right, and was stuck in fine pitch, so I probably wouldn't have had enough gas to make SA even if I could stand the whine.

I somehow was smart enuf to ride the big gray dog back home instead of taking a chance. (for the few friends who'd pay attention to my wild flying foolishness accounts, I tend to neglect to mention the many long bus rides so often involved back in the day!)

A week later they said the Texan was ready, and I again slept on the bus for the Friday night eight hour ride South. They had replaced a few hoses that were leaking too much, even for me, and managed to find a compass that kinda worked right. Apparently, they had not taken the prop apart, but lots of 3 in 1 oil and both blades seemed to change pitch on demand. So, I set out.

Made it most of the way uneventfully enough that I don't remember any drama until I was passing Hondo, a WWII B-24 training base where our glider club kept our Schweizer TG-3. Everything happened in a blur ... literally.

A loud noise, incredible vibration, then the engine screaming until I slammed the throttle and hit the master. I was confused that the prop never stopped, but was occupied in setting up a glide to the convenient, unused airfield. Lots of oil smeared on windshield.

As I silently aimed for Hondo, I cracked the canopy for visibility, managed to shake gear down and locked, and made the field easily. (Started my flying in gliders … remember!) Landed on the BIG ramp, managing to roll right up to our glider club hanger. Probably was full of adrenaline and rather shaky as I just sat and took stock. Only then did I finally come to the realization that the prop was gone. One blade had departed, then it shook like a paint shaker for probably about a second before the second blade thankfully left. (In SW TX then you needn't worry about casualties on the ground … unless you're a rabbit and lizard lovin' PETA member!)

Gracefully alighting, I slipped and fell on my butt, sliding hard to the concrete with all the high-grade oil all over the now well lubricated, formerly abrasive walkway. Initially had thoughts about getting a new prop to see if I could still manage to get it to San Antone that weekend. Then noticed that the cowl seemed to be partly open. When I saw the hub split open and the R-1340 lopsided in the cowl, I'm not sure how my legs supported me. The engine was hanging from only one Lord mount (out of four).

Looking it over, wrinkled skins and popped rivets were everywhere. They scrapped the Texan on the spot.

I believe the same bus driver I rode down with took me the rest of the way home on his way back from Harlingen.
That is a gripper of a story! Thanks for sharing. The near misses are far greater stories to hear.

RIP to our fellow enthusiasts
 
I lost a prop on a T-6 once, one blade at a time.

It was about '59 or '60 when I was a high school student and ferrying a very neglected T-6 civilian bird from the Confederate Air Force field in Harlingen to San Antonio. The Maytag Messerschmidt was long gone from the AF inventory, replaced by T-34s and underpowered T-28As. At the time if someone put gas in the tank, I'd fly it for free. Only had a private ticket due to my young age.

Actually, I had gone down the previous weekend and test flown the bird, long a ramp queen with holes in the fabric surfaces. IIRC, it had a half-assed annual by a duster A&P, involving a couple jugs, a new carb and probably some old sheets doped on the flippers. Lots of parts were missing and we robbed enough instruments from the back seat to be almost flyable. The prop wouldn't cycle right, and was stuck in fine pitch, so I probably wouldn't have had enough gas to make SA even if I could stand the whine.

I somehow was smart enuf to ride the big gray dog back home instead of taking a chance. (for the few friends who'd pay attention to my wild flying foolishness accounts, I tend to neglect to mention the many long bus rides so often involved back in the day!)

A week later they said the Texan was ready, and I again slept on the bus for the Friday night eight hour ride South. They had replaced a few hoses that were leaking too much, even for me, and managed to find a compass that kinda worked right. Apparently, they had not taken the prop apart, but lots of 3 in 1 oil and both blades seemed to change pitch on demand. So, I set out.

Made it most of the way uneventfully enough that I don't remember any drama until I was passing Hondo, a WWII B-24 training base where our glider club kept our Schweizer TG-3. Everything happened in a blur ... literally.

A loud noise, incredible vibration, then the engine screaming until I slammed the throttle and hit the master. I was confused that the prop never stopped, but was occupied in setting up a glide to the convenient, unused airfield. Lots of oil smeared on windshield.

As I silently aimed for Hondo, I cracked the canopy for visibility, managed to shake gear down and locked, and made the field easily. (Started my flying in gliders … remember!) Landed on the BIG ramp, managing to roll right up to our glider club hanger. Probably was full of adrenaline and rather shaky as I just sat and took stock. Only then did I finally come to the realization that the prop was gone. One blade had departed, then it shook like a paint shaker for probably about a second before the second blade thankfully left. (In SW TX then you needn't worry about casualties on the ground … unless you're a rabbit and lizard lovin' PETA member!)

Gracefully alighting, I slipped and fell on my butt, sliding hard to the concrete with all the high-grade oil all over the now well lubricated, formerly abrasive walkway. Initially had thoughts about getting a new prop to see if I could still manage to get it to San Antone that weekend. Then noticed that the cowl seemed to be partly open. When I saw the hub split open and the R-1340 lopsided in the cowl, I'm not sure how my legs supported me. The engine was hanging from only one Lord mount (out of four).

Looking it over, wrinkled skins and popped rivets were everywhere. They scrapped the Texan on the spot.

I believe the same bus driver I rode down with took me the rest of the way home on his way back from Harlingen.
That is a bona fide.

"Anyone can do the job when everything is going right. In this business, we play for keeps."

Brother Gann would buy you a beer.
 
That is a bona fide.

"Anyone can do the job when everything is going right. In this business, we play for keeps."

Brother Gann would buy you a beer.
Thank you. I'll share one with you tomorrow eve, just look into the sunset and think all friends who've flown into the light before us.
Happy Thanksgiving
 

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