A little long but..........
Jumpseating home to STL from ORD. I manage to get the last j/s on the last TWA 727 departure of the night. Every seat full in the back, standard 3-man crew up front with an AA guy and me in the tandem jumpseats behind the Captain. The crew welcomed me on board and I thanked them. The Captain was the typical old school 727 guy who'd been flying the old girl since disco reigned supreme and had no plans to change prior to retirement.
I was still a pretty new 727 FE at UAL. Since I was the last jumpseater to show, I had to sit directly behind the Captain. The seat was more elevated than the one behind me, less comfortable, less legroom and gave me a bird's eye view of the pilot's domain as well as the FE's panel. I spent some time marveling at the slightly more antiquated version of the FE panel currently in use at TWA but most of it was familiar. I had a chance to chat with the FE who had been in his current position a few years.
Ground ops were basically familiar and routine. The only thing of note was the 20 knot direct crosswind we were all launching into off runway 22L. This would become a major factor in the takeoff roll to come.
Before we go there, some additional info about the venerable 727 is in order. The number 2 center engine intake was called the "S-duct". This was the result of the intake being situated above the fuselage with the actual engine located well below the intake buried inside the center of the fuselage. The air entering the intake initially traveled straight aft followed by a turn downward and another turn back aft to hit the compressor. The air duct formed the approximate shape of a "S" (if viewed from the right side), hence the name.
It was common knowledge among 727 operators that the #2 engine did not take kindly to disrupted airflow down the S-duct at low speeds. The most common source of such disruption was a cross-wind. As the power came up and the hungry JT8D engines started sucking air down that serpentine path, the turbulent cross-wind combined with the less than optimum routing for the air could produce some spectacular compressor stalls.
The normal technique to combat this problem was called "dragging #2". Simply put, this meant increasing power on the #1 and #3 engines that did not have an S-duct while leaving #2 at idle. As the takeoff roll began and ground speed increased, the airflow down the S-duct would also increase and by 20 to 30 knots, the cross-wind effects were negated. Takeoff power could then be brought up on #2 to match the other engines and the threat of compressor stalls was diminished or often completely eliminated.
So, as a fully trained 727 FE, I was expecting to see some version of this procedure as we were cleared for takeoff from a dead start after holding in position. That did not happen and the fun began.
Perhaps it was a case of "last-leg-get-home-itis" or maybe "let's get dafuq outta here now", our crusty Captain cobbed the power up on all three engines simultaneously. A second later we were treated to the first of at least 3 spectacular compressor stalls that were audible all the way at our end of the jet. On the second "ka-pow", the engine failure light flickered, came on and then went out. The FO stated "engine failure" as procedure required just as the light was going out and "KA-BAM" number three was heard.
Another minor systems diversion is required. On the mighty, but somewhat thrust deficient 727-200, the auto-pack trip system had been installed to provide maximum thrust in the event of engine failure on takeoff. It was armed by the FE prior to takeoff and would automatically shut down both air-conditioning packs if thrust loss was sensed on any engine. This would halt any diversion of bleed air off the engines to run the packs and keep all the thrusties going out the back of the good engines for optimum takeoff performance.
So, back on our takeoff roll..... as we enjoyed our threesome of compressor stalls, the momentary loss of thrust on #2 which caused the illumination of the engine fail light had also dutifully signaled the auto-pack trip system to work as well.
About the time the air rush from the now dormant packs became non-existent, the Captain had figured out the #2 engine had not failed, was in fact delivering thrust and his forward panel looked normal, so he decided we were going flying. "It's fine!..... just the cross-wind.....we're going!"
Our speed now built past the maybe 10 knots we had attained as all this was happening. I looked over at the FE’s panel and noted a bunch of abnormal lights, including two tripped packs, at least one main generator off line and the cabin climb rate needle swinging to zero. About the time the Captain said, “We’re going!”, my head involuntarily tilted sideways as I did my best impression of a pig looking at a wrist watch. I'm pretty sure I remember hoping the other FE knew what to do. He paused for a moment and our eyes met for a second as he came to the realization that the train was leaving the station. He then got the “Holy sh!t, I gotta do some stuff fast” look and his hands flew across the panel in expert fashion returning it to normal ops in record time.
The biggest indicator he had been successful was the pack lights going out, the cabin rate needle making an audible “sproinnnnnggg” as it reversed directions and went to infinity as most of the air in the Chicagoland area was pumped into our jet in the span of about 2 seconds. Anyone with a free hand was pinching the crap out of their nose in a herculean effort to Valsalva fast enough to save our eardrums.
Sometime between second “Ka-Bang!” and “We’re going!” the FA call chimes from the back of the airplane started and continued for most of the takeoff roll. Once the packs started blowing our eardrums out, we couldn’t hear them or much of anything else and I’m pretty sure the FO had to hit the Captain on the arm and mouth the word “rotate” when it was time.
Things calmed down pretty quickly once we got airborne. I gave a thumbs up to the obviously competent FE and turned around to look at the other jumpseater. He simply shook his head and mouthed “What the fook” (or something similar). At the top of climb, the crew took a moment to discuss the event. Try as he may, I don’t think the FO was able to get the Captain to agree that maybe they should have rejected while they were still at about 4.6 knots. I couldn’t help myself and I managed to politely inquire about the possibility of “dragging #2” with such a cross-wind. The Captain replied, “Yeah, I’ve heard of that but I don’t like to do it. If I’m going to have a problem with an engine on takeoff, I want to know as soon as possible.”
Of course, I wanted to immediately respond by saying “Why would knowing sooner matter if you’re going to ignore the warning lights, FO call-outs and takeoff regardless?” But, I managed to bite my tongue as I pondered this logic, probably with the same look I had when the FE’s panel lit up like a Christmas tree. The rest of the flight involved calming the FAs via interphone, especially the one sitting under #2 who apparently was ready to raid the liquor cart by top of climb.
It wasn’t my first or last jumpseat with TWA, but I can safely say it was the most eventful by far.