Chapter 115 – The Coughing Cat
Tomcat pilots often joked that they had to babysit their aircraft. If they weren't careful, the jet would start misbehaving like a moody child—panting, stalling, and throwing tantrums mid-flight.
Even former Navy Secretary John Lehman, once a Tomcat pilot himself, once quipped, "The TF30 and the F-14 are possibly the worst engine and airframe pairing in aviation history."
Despite having sensors in the intakes to monitor airflow, compressor stalls were still common. These stalls occasionally triggered catastrophic failures—blades shattering, puncturing the casing, and sending jets crashing into the sea. Pratt & Whitney made improvements over time, reinforcing engine casings and refining airflow tolerances, but the fundamental design flaw remained. F-14 pilots had to treat their engines with delicate care—especially during missile launches, throttle transitions, and high-altitude maneuvers. The TF30 was notoriously temperamental.
Later, the U.S. considered replacing the TF30 with the British Spey engine—modified into the TF-41—but ultimately adopted the F110 engine instead, resulting in the vastly improved F-14D Super Tomcat. Unfortunately, that upgrade wouldn't arrive until 1984.
For now, the TF30 remained a liability, and William, pushing his Tomcat recklessly at low altitude, was about to discover why.
Altitude was plummeting—now below 1,000 meters. Andre adjusted his control inputs carefully. The MiG-25's oversized control surfaces could cause dangerous torque if handled too aggressively at low level.
William believed he'd sprung a trap. He'd dragged the MiG-25 into the weeds. Now, all he needed was one tight maneuver to swing behind it and fire a Sidewinder.
It was time.
He pulled the stick back. The Tomcat surged upward out of its dive, but the sudden airflow change choked the engines. The intakes couldn't provide steady airflow to the compressors. Pressure spiked, fluctuated, and then collapsed.
The TF30 began coughing.
Sensors flashed. Alarms blared. The engine's airflow tolerance had been breached. In an instant, one engine flamed out. Moments later, the unstable airflow ripped through the compressor, shearing off a fan blade. The spinning fragment, traveling faster than a bullet, tore through hydraulic lines and punctured a fuel conduit. Flames burst from the engine.
"Engine failure!"
"Shut it down!"
"She's on fire!"
"Eject!"
The radar operator in the back seat yanked the red handle of the Martin-Baker GRU-7A seat. Explosive bolts shattered the canopy. A rocket ignited under the seat, launching him clear of the burning aircraft.
William followed half a second later, his cockpit engulfed in smoke.
The ejection rocked his skull. Dazed, he drifted under the parachute. Blinking away the blur, he saw it—sleek and silver, gliding by beneath his boots.
The red five-pointed star on the wing was unmistakable.
Andre's MiG-25 passed beneath him in perfect control.
William clenched his teeth. He hadn't been beaten in a dogfight—his skills were solid. He'd lost because of that damn engine.
The U.S. was still refining its turbofan technology. Even the vaunted F100 had issues, grounding many F-15s with flameouts. Only later, with engines like the F119, would America truly master high-performance jet propulsion.
On the deck of the MiG-25, Andre pulled gently out of the low-level dive, watching the Tomcat level out before smoke erupted from the fuselage. Just 4Gs of pull, but it had been enough to expose the engine's flaw.
His intel had been right.
Avoid the Phoenix missiles, close the gap, and the MiG-25 had nothing to fear from the Tomcat. That fragile engine was its Achilles' heel.
This time, the Tomcat had locked him in PDSTT mode. That long-range lock had triggered his radar warning receiver and given him the time to prepare and maneuver. If the Americans had used TWS mode, they might've had a chance—silent and deadly. That was how Iran's Tomcats downed Iraqi Falcons decades later.
"032, that was beautiful! You downed a Tomcat!" Alexander's voice came over the radio, filled with awe.
Andre smirked. "I didn't down him. He took himself out. Engine failure."
Alexander had stayed above, per Andre's earlier order, ready to dive in if more Tomcats appeared. Instead, he'd witnessed his commander break an American carrier jet through pure maneuvering.
"027, form up. Let's head home."
He throttled back slightly, letting the MiG cruise in clean air again. The TF-30… what a sad engine. Would it ever stop coughing?
Probably not. But that wasn't his problem.