There's No Rank in the Cockpit

– How Aircraft Commanders Should Navigate the Pilot-Aircrewman Relationship

By LT Andrew Calloway, USN

The traditional officer-enlisted relationship takes on a different form in the helicopter. “There’s no rank in the cockpit.” This is a common adage we use in the HSC Community to stress that rank disparity should never interfere with safety of flight. The ability to freely communicate in the aircraft can mean the difference between life and death. What sets the helicopter community apart from others in the Navy is the fact that this crucial pilot-aircrewman communication occurs on a daily basis, even on mundane training or logistics flights. In no other aviation community is the aircraft’s flight regime so directly influenced by the advice of the enlisted aircrew. For example, when conducting ship landings, the pilot relies on aircrew guidance for spot placement above all else. Regardless of the mission, the crew chief is consulted on nearly every decision made in the aircraft.

Because helicopter crews rely so heavily on front-toback communication, a strong bond between pilots and aircrewmen is a necessity. A more cohesive crew is a safer crew. Learning your aircrew’s background can help gauge their tolerance for risk – what drives them to continue a flight or to call it a day. On a recent deployment, I learned that a crew chief in my squadron had been in a brownoutinduced rollover – this certainly helped me understand his risk tolerance. As one might expect after having this near-death experience, he tends to be rather risk averse. I try to keep this in mind when discussing risk factors with him in the aircraft. I remain sensitive to his perspective and experience and attempt to balance his risk aversion with my younger, more risk tolerant outlook. This approach consistently resulted in decision-making that was collaborative and conducive to open discussions on risk mitigation.

Getting to know your aircrew on a deeper level can also affect Crew Resource Management (CRM) in the aircraft in subtle but often crucial ways. Consider this case study: while deployed to 6th Fleet in 2021, my detachment was called on alert in the middle of the night for an urgent Medical Evacuation (MEDEVAC) off of a DDG in our vicinity. I was the copilot and the aforementioned aircrewman was the Utility Aircrewman (UA). Upon arrival at the DDG, we noticed that it had non-NVD compatible lighting, leaving our entire crew nearly blinded on this pitch black night. I had to take the landing, as my Helicopter Aircraft Commander (HAC) sitting in the left seat did not have visual references over the flight deck. After requesting several times for the lights to be turned off, we learned that the ship could not oblige. Considering the urgency of the MEDEVAC, we decided to attempt the landing with several mitigations in place. On short final I began to discern the features of the flight deck, but there was still one bright white light in my field of view making it nearly impossible to judge my proximity to the superstructure of the ship. I waved off, informed the crew of the issue, and told

them that I wanted to try again. This time around I would take the approach especially slow and focus almost entirely on their calls from the back, forcing my visual cues to be subordinate to the verbal cues from the crewmen. As I crossed the flight deck, the crew chief called “forward for ten” in a sure and steady voice. My forward visuals were still heavily impaired by the white light within the field of my NVDs. The second crewman called “easy left.” I gave inputs to the aircraft that, from what few visuals I had out of the chin bubble, appeared to take the aircraft forward and slightly left. My UA then called “forward for three, two, one. Stop forward. Stop forward,” with a subtle hint of urgency in his voice. At this point in the deployment, I had conducted dozens of landings with this UA and spent countless hours working alongside him on the ground. I had never experienced him strike a tone that I would describe as “urgent.” I knew, simply by his intonation, that I needed to make an immediate rearward control input – a larger input than I would have made under other circumstances. After a few more corrections, the aircrew were able to talk the aircraft safely down to the deck.

During the debrief, the UA informed me that we had been dangerously close to the hangar of the ship and that my heavy rearward input was critical to prevent us from collision. It was, under the circumstances, a remarkable landing due entirely to the crew chief’s direction and ability to seamlessly convey instructions to the cockpit. Without the strong bond between myself and the crew chief, we would not have been able to safely land the aircraft and therefore would have been forced to abandon our patient. Our reciprocal understanding of one another saved the day and, likely, a Sailor’s life.

I think most helicopter pilots would concur that some level of familiarity with their aircrewmen results in an overall safer and more effective crew. A question some might disagree over is how close of a relationship is too close? Does a certain level of personal familiarity pose risks in the aircraft and what might these risks be? One could argue that the largest risk of over personalization with aircrewmen is the erosion of rank, respect, and, ultimately, authority in the aircraft. While this may be true in some rare circumstances, it is difficult to imagine, at least in my experience, that any aircrewman would refuse or shirk direction from an aircraft commander based on the nature of their personal or professional relationship. A much more likely risk, I believe, lies in how certain familiarity with the aircrew has the potential to affect a HAC’s decision making.

All pilots want, on some level, the approval of the aircrewmen with whom they fly. No HAC wants to be known as a bad stick, a poor instructor, or an erratic decision-maker. Reputation within your squadron and community at large undoubtedly matters, whether speaking professionally or personally. This innate desire in all pilots to maintain a positive reputation is where I believe the danger lies in forming an excessively close relationship between pilots and aircrew. Overcompensating in an attempt to maintain good standing with aircrewmen can cloud an aircraft commander’s judgment and cause them to make excessively risky or conservative decisions based on how they think the aircrew will react.

Consider another case study. I was tasked to pilot a routine currency flight that required several aircrewmen to perform simulated and live hoisting from various altitudes. We decided to perform the hoisting evolutions over a landing pad not far from the line area and fuel pits. In the interest of maintaining a large power margin in a high hover, I asked the previous HAC not to refuel before turning over the aircraft. I assumed that with the time allotted and fuel onboard, we would be able to complete all the hoisting evolutions with time on the back end to refuel. After completing the hoists required for three out of the five aircrew in the cabin, I noticed it was taking longer than anticipated, and we were quickly approaching NATOPS minimum fuel. The aircrew asked to continue in order to complete the currency requirement for the last two aircrewmen and stressed that they would expedite the evolutions. I obliged and justified my decision by voicing that we were a short taxi away from the fuel pits. About five minutes later while in a HOGE performing a live hoist, we dropped below NATOPS minimum fuel. I finally decided to terminate the exercise and begrudgingly informed the final crewman that there would not be enough time to complete his currency. After cleaning up and taxiing, we arrived at the fuel pits well below minimum fuel – to the extent that my copilot and I were concerned about a possible engine flameout while waiting in line.

Retrospectively assessing this flight, I recognize that being in a HOGE with a live hoister while below minimum fuel was an undue risk considering the low priority of the mission. Would we have experienced a flameout after momentarily dropping below minimum fuel? Probably not. However, NATOPS limits exist for a reason. Would an engine flameout while taxiing have posed a risk to my crew? No, but it could have caused damage to said engine. So why did I continue the hoisting evolutions after I realized that we would likely drop below minimum fuel? I was overcome by a momentary desire to be a get-it-done HAC in the eyes of the aircrew. I had previously deployed with one of the aircrewmen hoisting that day, and I had an excellent rapport with him. I did not want to sully my reputation in his eyes by forcing the aircrewmen to delay fulfilling their currency requirements when – in their words – they were comfortable dropping slightly below minimum fuel to get the job done. I made a risky decision that fortunately did not result in a mishap, but did force me to rethink the way I make decisions as a HAC. It also prompted me to reassess the risks of attempting to maintain a certain persona in front of the aircrewmen.

So, if there are both risks and benefits to forming a tightknit crew, how should aircraft commanders navigate the pilotaircrewman relationship? It is a question that is impossible to answer with a single, sweeping statement; what is important, however, is that aircraft commanders are at the very least thinking about the question. How do your relationships within the aircraft impact your decision making? Are your relationships adding to or detracting from the safety of the crew? If they are detracting, it is time to change your mindset. The pilot-aircrewman relationship is certainly a unique one, and developing it can reap massive benefits. However, the ultimate responsibility for the safety of the crew and mission completion falls onto the aircraft commander. Sometimes this burden requires making unpopular decisions. The best aircrewmen will recognize this weighty responsibility. Consider your inner biases, make smart decisions, and your reputation amongst your flight crew will follow.