Spider Crack in Plane Window: Rapid Decompression

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0:33It's Monday, May the 4th, 1970. About 8.25 in the morning. Heavy fog mantles the sky above Sonoma County, California. Sharp, rainy squalls cut through the cloud like arrow showers, falling on the rolling hills and fields, the oak forests and cattle pastures. Two and a half thousand feet up, a US military training aircraft struggles to climb above the dense grey cloud. Water droplets bead on the cockpit windows as the plane gains altitude, forcing its way up through layers of soaking mist. Designed in the 1940s and modelled on early airliners, the Convair T-29 is a bulky, twin-engined workhorse, built mainly for radar and navigation training.

1:25Now, after three decades of service, the fleet is showing its age. The stainless steel fuselage trembles as the aircraft continues its shaky ascent, propellers churning the air, turbines battling the downdrafts. Inside the cabin, Captain George Burke sits slumped over a chart table, his head resting in his folded arms. Conditions might be a little rough, but for an experienced airman like George, it's just another day at the office The 28-year-old's eyes are closed and he's on the verge of drifting off When suddenly I raise my head quickly, turn to my right And the window, a spider crack from front to back I don't know if it was the outside window or the inside window George stares at the fractured glazing The crack gets bigger, jagged pencil lines zigzagging rapidly across the window.

2:26He turns to one of his colleagues, Kenny. I hollered across the table to Kenny. You better go forward and tell Pappy, who was our crew chief, we may have a problem. Kenny unthuckled. He disappeared to my left through the structural bulkhead doorway. He was gone, I don't know, ten seconds. The next sound I heard was something like, Um, only louder. There's a microsecond pause, and then boom! The airplane decompressed. Rapid, explosive decompression. A sudden extreme loss in cabin pressure. There is a concussive wave of sound that feels more like a physical force than a noise. It knocks the breath from Georgia's lungs.

3:12In an instant, every window bursts, vanishing into a spray of shards. Loose objects were immediately sucked through the empty holes, whisked off into the void. A deafening roar engulfs the aircraft, followed by a blast of icy air as the wind rushes through the cabin. Fumbling with his seatbelt, George unbuckles and gets to his feet. Gripping onto whatever he can, he hauls himself towards the cockpit to consult with the crew chief. But before George can make it out into the center aisle, he spots something through one of the windows. Flames. Fire was rolling over and under the engine calling. The engines were on fire.

3:53All I heard in the background was pitching on and rolling, and we were going down.

4:04Ever wondered what you would do when disaster strikes? If your life depended on your next decision, could you make the right choice? Welcome to Real Survival Stories. These are the astonishing tales of ordinary people thrown into extraordinary situations. People suddenly forced to fight for their lives. In this episode, we meet U.S. Air Force Captain and Vietnam War veteran George Burke. In May 1970, George is on board a plane bound for an airbase in Washington State. It's a routine mission, a Monday morning like any other. Or at least it should be. As soon as the airplane decompressed and the windows blew out, We pitched violently nose up and then violently nose down.

4:49A structural failure will lead to a horror scenario in the sky. The plane rapidly decompresses mid-flight, blowing out the windows and turning this military aircraft into a hollow aluminum tube hurtling towards the Earth at over 250 miles an hour. By the time George and his colleagues have gathered their senses, it will already be too late. I glanced quickly into the cockpit. The nose was split open. The top of the canopy had been peeled back. The left side was completely gone. Exactly what happens next will remain a mystery, even to George. But suffice to say, there will be an impact, a fire, a desperate scramble for safety, and at the bleakest possible moment, an unlikely savior.

5:36He could have continued down that ravine, and literally within 30 seconds or a minute, I would have burned to death. I'm John Hopkins from the Noiser Podcast Network this is Real Survival Stories

6:09It's 6.45 a.m. on Monday, May the 4th, 1970. Hamilton Air Force Base, Novotaux, Northern California. Captain George Burke stands at his living room window, watching raindrops chase each other down the glass. Pale sheets of drizzle and fog ripple over the lawn. The branches of the tree across the street thrash quietly in the wind, like arms signaling distress. George sighs. Not exactly ideal conditions for flying. The 28-year-old laces up his shoes and heads out of the door, shutting it quietly behind him so as not to wake his sleeping wife and children He loads his duffel and briefcase into the back of his Austin Healey, then climbs into the car and backs it carefully out of the driveway

7:04George drives down his residential streets, passing row upon row of purpose-built officers' cottages The houses look identical to his own, with their neat driveways and picket fences, their white stucco walls and terracotta roof tiles. Sodden palm trees droop in the manicured lawns. George takes a left turn and continues through the quiet base. He passes the barrack-style accommodation blocks where the unmarried recruits are billeted. He passes administrative buildings, hangars, the commissary, until eventually he reaches his destination, base operations. Moments later, George is stepping through the door of the mission briefing room, nodding good morning to his sleepy-eyed colleagues.

7:51My job was chief of an air traffic control analysis team. We analyzed the military bases, air traffic control, radar, control tower, VFR. We had a group of technicians, comm technicians, that would check the radios and the comm centers, etc. Today, George and his team are flying 900 miles north to Fairchild Air Force Base in Washington State for systematic analysis checks. It's a journey George has made many times before, a briefing he's received on countless prior occasions. He's been stationed here at Hamilton for the better part of two years. In that time, the steady rhythm of life on the base has become second nature, an endless cycle of repetition and routine.

8:36But that's all about to change. A few weeks ago, George received a promotion, a reassignment to a U.S. airbase in Okinawa, Japan, where he's to run a radar facility in one of the most strategically important locations in the Pacific. It's a great opportunity, a big step up in his career. With his reassignment pending, he has just two more missions to fly here in California, including this morning's trip to Fairchild. After delays, due to the heavy fog, George and his crew receive the go-ahead. They walk out across the airstrip to the waiting plane, a Convair T-29. The men, 14 in total, board the plane and get into position.

9:22George buckles himself into his usual seat beside two colleagues, Kenny and Fred. The pilot sparks the engines and taxis the plane onto the mist-shrouded runway. We took off east-northeast out of Hamilton, climbing right-hand turn. Made that trip many, many times. Headed back to what would have been my next to last TDY to Fairchild Air Force Base right outside Spokane, Washington. The aircraft surges upward through the dense, swirling fog. Soon they'll be above the clouds and the weather should clear. Lulled by the monotonous drone of the engine, George yawns. He folds his arms, shuts his eyes, and lets his chin drop onto his chest.

10:11A nap will make this short flight go even quicker.

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11:26At 28, George Burke has already enjoyed his successful military career. There was a time, however, when the idea of joining the Air Force would have seemed like a deviation from his true passion, baseball. At high school, George was the star of his varsity team. Later at college, in Michigan, he caught the eye of local talent scouts, and it seemed inevitable that the big leagues would soon come calling. That is, until a fateful injury scuppered everything. My junior year, playing ball in the summer, I hurt my left arm, really never come back. My dream of signing a professional baseball contract ended.

12:08I use a term that the scouts scurried, like when you turn on the lights at night and all the bugs disappear. They went away very quickly. With his dream in tatters, George found himself adrift. After finishing college, he bounced around a couple of different jobs, but nothing felt quite right. So I was in limbo. I was set back emotionally. I didn't know what I was going to do. I didn't really have any direction per se. I had a couple of jobs after I graduated. I ended up getting married. My brother-in-law was in the Air Force at the time. He was a pilot. This was 1964. And so, George took himself down to the local Air Force recruitment depot.

12:52He aced his qualifying tests, then shipped off to Officer's Candidate School in Texas.

13:00Soon, it was time to specialize. George wanted to be a pilot, but after a medical examination revealed a problem with his eyesight, flying was off the cards. They found out I had a stigmatism in one of my eyes, depth perception. Back then it couldn't be fixed. So I had a choice to either get out of the Air Force or stay in, maybe early 67. A place called Vietnam was starting to heat up. While George contemplated his future, America's involvement in the Vietnam War was intensifying. The military was in urgent need of skilled personnel, including air traffic control officers I knew that if I declined and got out of the Air Force, I didn't really know what I was going to do But if I stayed in, never going to offer me a position As it turned out, probably it was going to be in Vietnam because air traffic control officers were critical They would have offered me orders to go to Vietnam had I turned them down, I would have been required to leave the Air Force.

14:08In the end, George wasn't prepared to do that. He broke the news to his wife that he would soon be shipping out. And a few months later, in October 1967, he landed in Da Nang, on the eastern coast of central Vietnam. As they opened the back door for the steps and they deployed the stairs, three things I remember was the heat, stifling, the noise, an active military base at night, never closes, and the smell, like I walked into an open sewer. I remember thinking to myself, what the hell have I gotten myself into? As a critical hub for air operations in Vietnam, Da Nang Base was the busiest airport in the world at the time.

14:52From their lofty post in the control tower, George and his colleagues were responsible for coordinating the military and civilian aircraft that came through every day. The work was tough, but rewarding, and George excelled under pressure. He was soon promoted to the rank of captain, and one year after his deployment he was offered a reassignment, an opportunity to lead an air traffic control analysis team at Hamilton Air Force Base in California. George accepted the new posting, packed up his things, and flew home to the U.S. From the chaos and humidity of Da Nang Province, he was suddenly back with his family, living in the relative luxury of an officer's housing billet in the temperate climes of Northern California.

15:36And now, with another reassignment looming, this time to Okinawa, George is preparing for yet another change of circumstances, another exciting new chapter. But first, there is final work to be done in the States. An assignment in Washington awaits.

16:01It's about 8.30am, two minutes after takeoff. The aircraft continues its bumpy climb over the vast plains of Northern California, straining against the elements, heading northeast. Rain pelts the cabin windows. The navigation lights glow weakly through the fog. George sits with his head lowered and his eyes closed. The weather's a little rough, but nothing he hasn't experienced before. I don't know how long my head was on my arms. Maybe just a few minutes, if that. I don't know if I heard a crackling sound. George's eyes snap open. He turns to the cabin window. A tiny spider crack has appeared in the glass.

16:49Fine lines branching out from a single point. He watches as the fracture spreads. the lines zigzagging outward like the cracking of ice on a frozen lake. George's chest tightens. He bellows above the roar of the engines to his colleague, Kenny, telling him to run and notify the crew chief, Pappy. Kenny nods. He unbuckles, starts making his way towards the cockpit. He was gone, I don't know, ten seconds. The next sign I heard was something like, like, um, only louder. There's a microsecond pause, and then, boom! The airplane decompressed.

17:34It feels like an explosion ripping through the aircraft. A gut punch of massive sonic energy. The windows shatter in unison, vaporized into a million sharks. There is an ear-splitting roar, followed by a surge of freezing wind as the outside rushes in, plain rocks like a ship being tossed on heavy seas. We pitched violently nose up, and then violently nose down. And all I heard was a pitch of the engine going, Rrrr, rrrr, rrrr, rrrr. Pitching, yaw, and rolling. A lot of snorings I never heard, the wind shear. I quickly glance to my left and then to my right. Mayhem is all around. Loose objects hurtle through the air.

18:23Papers, seat cushions, bags, all being sucked towards the howling black holes where the windows once were. George clings to the base of his seat. To his left, through the smashed window, he can see coils of flame wrapped around the engine cowlings, trailing through the air like orange streamers. He unbuckles his seatbelt. Gripping what he can, he gets to his feet. Through the maelstrom of wind, rain, and debris, he can see Kenny making his way back down the center aisle, the loose corners of his raincoat flapping furiously. Beyond him, George can see inside the cockpit, or what's left of it. The nose was split open, the top of the canopy had been peeled back, half a steering wheel was vibrating left to right and back and forth, left to right and back and forth.

19:12The left side was completely gone. Horrifyingly, he can make out the pilot's body, torn apart, slumped limply in his seat. George turns back. There's nothing left to do now but brace for impact. I turned around and sat back down in my seat, buckled my seatbelt, put something in my lap, a cushion, blanketed, blown free. I assume the survival position is best I possibly could. The aircraft lurches hard to one side, accelerating earthward at a 30-degree angle. The shriek of tearing metal joins the howl of the wind as the fuselage begins to break apart, panels of steel ripped off by the air. The ground appears through breaks in the fog, brief flashes of green.

20:04Then the plane drops below the cloud and suddenly the earth is everywhere. The hills, forests, streams and lakes all surging up to meet them. Until.

20:20Impact, the breaking and bending and shearing of metal. I was thrust violently back and my head hit the back of the chair. My skull was fractured and I was then finally thrown forward like a rag doll. George lifts his head. Blood pours from his misshapen nose. Smoke and debris swirl around him. There's a high-pitched ringing in his ears. The plane seems to have stopped moving. With trembling hands, he unbuckles his seatbelt and rises unsteadily to his feet. He turns to where Fred and Kenny were sitting moments ago. and calls their names. But before they have a chance to reply, there is a rush of wind and a surge of heat.

21:15That sensation was like someone dumping large buckets of scalding hot water on me. We had about 1 ,200 gallons of aviation fuel on board. Everything went black.

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22:25It's May the 4th, 1970, in the hills of Sonoma County, California. Around 8.30 in the morning. A red pickup truck trundles along a dirt road, wending between fields of tall prairie grass. Behind the wheel sits rancher John Davio. Every morning for the past 25 years, John has made this drive around the outer perimeter of his 2 ,000-acre cattle ranch, checking to make sure that none of his livestock have strayed from the herd. This morning, a grey and bleak Monday, John drives slow, raking his eyes back and forth across the pasture It's raining, and the middle-aged farmer has to lean forward to see, headlights straining against the elements When he reaches the outermost boundary marker, John turns around and starts driving back to the house Due to the foul weather, he's decided to cut his usual journey short Later, when the rain stops, he'll come back out and pick up where he left off.

23:32John starts down the road back to his house. But after traveling just a few hundred yards, he makes a sudden, impulsive decision. He veers from the road and sets off down the bottom of a shallow ravine, figuring it'll be a shortcut. The sooner he gets out of this rain, the better. All the years he'd been on that ranch, he'd never been through that ravine before. He smelled smoke. What are the neighbors burning in a day like this? And he clocked himself. John sniffs the damp air again. It's definitely smoke. An acrid, sharp scent billowing in the wind. Strange. Does he go to investigate, or does he continue his journey home?

24:19He could have continued down that ravine, And literally within 30 seconds or a minute, I would have burned to death, literally. But he pivoted the truck 90 to the right, lurched it up over the other side of the ravine, saw a tail of an airplane, raced in, saw me running on the ground on fire.

24:40The sight before John is jaw-dropping. The burning, smoking wreckage of an aircraft. But amid the pulverized mess of fire and metal, someone is still alive. John spots George and races over to where the young man is writhing on the ground, flames dancing over his body. John scoops up two handfuls of soil and starts frantically heaping the damp earth onto the Burning Man, trying to extinguish the flames. It works. The fire goes out and George falls still. His eyes are closed. It's hard to tell if he's alive or dead. John calls out, telling him to hang on, that he's gonna get help. Then he races back to his truck, jumps in, and thunders off to find a telephone.

25:44Moments later, George regains his senses. He opens his eyes and inhales weakly. The air is filled with a horrible stench, a cocktail of smoldering vegetation, aviation fuel, and burnt flesh. The thought's going through my head, not in any particular order. This is a dream. I'm going to wake up. This isn't happening to me. I roll over on my back. Look at my hands. My hands are charred black. There was a glob of skin hanging off my left hand. Roll back over on my stomach. And to this day, I still believe I heard somebody crying for help inside the airplane. It's faint, but George hears it. A lone, desperate voice.

26:34He pushes himself onto his elbows and drags himself back towards the plane. I crawled only, I was six foot five and a half at the time, probably my height plus a few extra inches, right up to the airplane's skin, if you will, and I heard a hissing noise, muffled explosion, and a great deal of heat in my face.