No Kidding Panic in a Drum - Part I

Older readers may recall a panic scene from An Officer and a Gentleman, the 1982 drama featuring Richard Gere as an aspiring naval aviator suffering through preflight indoctrination. Along with Top Gun, this film became a positive recruiting tool for Naval Air. (What red-blooded American male wouldn't want to end up with Kelly McGillis or Debra Winger at the end of the story?)

The film does a credible job of depicting the challenge and stress of Aviation Preflight Indoctrination (API). API includes a series of didactic and physical tests to achieve two primary purposes: 1) Weed out the weak and marginally motivated before the Navy invests millions of taxpayer dollars training them as naval aviators, 2) Build confidence in the strong, preparing them to withstand the risks and rigors of the unforgiving aviation environment.


Water survival training addressed both purposes. In the film, one young man who lacks the right stuff nearly drowns after failing to negotiate the Dilbert Dunker. The apparatus simulates egress from a jet cockpit after an unscheduled water landing, also known as a crash. The never-gonna-be-a-naval-aviator chump fails to egress, forcing a dramatic rescue/resuscitation by the drill sergeant (played by Louis Gossett, Jr.).


Student Naval Flight Surgeon Class 92002 endured API. In addition to other water survival exercises, we did the Dilbert Dunker. After the dramatic movie scene, the Dunker itself turned out anti-climactic. No big deal. Hold your breath, release your harness, swim to the surface. Pass. Confidence built.


But the movie didn't show the REAL challenge, the Helo Dunker. Fondly known as "Panic in a Drum," that torture device simulates a helicopter crash into water. The You Tube clips below show a modern version of the Helo Dunker. Ours was more primitive, and really did resemble a super-sized tin can with 8 seats inside.


Because of all the engine weight on top, helicopters roll inverted after hitting water. The occupants must remain strapped in their seats and hold their breath as the aircraft, or tin drum, rolls upside down and sinks. Of vital importance is holding onto a reference point (window, seat, etc.) as water rushes in from all sides.







Once "all violent motion stops," you then release your harness and egress the aircraft/tin can. Easy, eh?

In 1992 we had to pass four rides in the helo dunker: Nearest exit/window, then main exit; first times with eyes open, second times blindfolded to simulate night operations.


The final, blinded, main exit ride resulted in me replaying the Louis Gossett, Jr. rescue -- for three takes.