So I'm sitting around in my shop the other day after all the work was done just wasting time with my co workers telling stories and such. One of the guys here got the rare opportunity to go for a ride in an F-16 (the airframe we work) as an incentive earlier this year for a job well done. He was telling tales of 7g banks through the canyons outside of Nellis AFB NV (couldn't pull 9 because of a sniper pod and fuel tanks), split esses, Immelmans, and barrel rolls. He was on a roll telling his story until someone interupted him - "I think Jay over there can put your story to shame.." A few of us are new here at this shop and just getting to know one another, so none of us had heard Jays tale yet. A few years ago, he was graced with an incentive ride for earning NCO of the quarter among several other awards. He was awarded a ride, and after passing a flight physical and attending a few briefings (including getting your will up to date) the day arrived and he was all gussied up in his G suit ready to go. The pilot briefed him on the plan; take off, get acclimated, burn off some fuel and get over the range where he can stretch it out and show him what an unladen F-16 can do. They taxied on down, got clearance, and off they went into the wild blue yonder (...anyone?). About 30 minutes into the ride, Jay said he couldn't help but notice what felt like a gigantic explosion from the rear of the plane, accompanied by a myriad of warning lights and Bitching Betty explaining calmly that they were in real trouble. For those of you that don't know Bitching Betty, she is the soothing female computer voice that comes on the headset and gently reminds you of such conditions as "terrain warning", "warning; hydraulic pressure", and the favorite "altitude, altitude". As the pilot contacted the tower to explain the condition, Jay also said that he couldn't help but hear the familiar sound of a turbine engine spooling down. Now this is trouble for an F-16, because it has only one engine and a glide slope of a Corolla. He also heard the the pilot tell the tower something to the effect of "I have no control surfaces". So there he is, 17k ft up, motoring along a touch under 350 knots, on fire, spewing hydraulic fluid with no means to control the machine you're strapped to. And all because you did a bang up job at your shop. Well, the pilot comes on and explains that it's serious (really?) and "we have to go". He reminded Jay to keep his knees together and arms tucked tight against his abdomen. As explained on the ground he would say the magic word three times, and if Jay wasn't already gone by then, he would initiate the sequence for both of them (the front seat handle will blow the canopy and pop the rear seat first, then the front). "You ready Jay?" "Yes sir" "Eject eject ej-" Jay said he kind of blacked out from the 15 or so gs he got when the catapult cleared the cockpit and the under seat rocket fired, but when he came to (about 1/4 inch shorter) he was drifting gently to earth, survival kit dangling from his harness, as the plane he was just on smacked Nevada.
So I guess that when you look at the two, the story about ejecting from a fighter plane is more intense than merely riding in one and then using the built in tires to contact the earth. But man. What a story.