We rightfully assume that it takes months of intensive training to safely fly a Marine Corps attack jet.
LCPL Edward Foote pulled it off never having flown an A4 before. Public domain.
Top Gun was one of the most popular action movies of all time. Featuring a compelling story, aerial visuals that were life-changing for the era, uber-cool characters, and a pulsating musical score, Top Gun ensured that Naval Aviation recruiters could all retire early and get real jobs. Suddenly, everybody and their grandmother dreamt of strapping on an F14 and tearing across the skies.
I admit to having drunk a bit of that Kool-Aid myself. Flying an OH-58 aeroscout helicopter single pilot with the doors off is a bit like riding a 3-dimensional motorcycle. I do miss that so.
Additionally, several of our flight engineers got the avionics guys to splice boom boxes into the intercom systems of our military helicopters. I have actually flown NOE (nap of the earth) down remote Alaskan rivers at 170 knots and thirty feet while rocking to Kenny Loggins’ Danger Zone. If you were paying taxes back in the 1990s, sincerely, thanks for that.
Serving as a military aviator was such an incredible privilege. I worked hard to earn that slot, but an awful lot of it was just unvarnished luck. The physical requirements were both stringent and relentless. Sometimes, the most trivial of things would crush a young man’s dreams. Such was the case with an enthusiastic Marine Lance Corporal named Howard Foote.
The A4 Skyhawk was an all-purpose workhorse of an aircraft
throughout the Vietnam War and beyond. Public domain.
The Guy
Lance Cpl. Foote was a born aviator. He served as a maintenance specialist on A6 Intruder strike aircraft and was, by all accounts, an exemplary Marine. He spent his free time flying gliders and made it clear to all who served with him that he aspired to Officer Candidate School and a career as a Marine fighter pilot. His chain of command thought that was a splendid idea and encouraged him at every opportunity.
One weekend, Foote was attempting to set a world altitude record in a civilian glider and suffered an aerial embolism. This is a potentially catastrophic variation on the bends, a condition wherein a nitrogen bubble forms in the bloodstream as a result of rapid pressure changes. Though LCPL Foote recovered, this injury disqualified him from Marine flight training. He was justifiably heartbroken.
The drive to fly high-performance aircraft can seem overwhelming. In Lance Cpt. Foote’s case, it overcame his otherwise sound judgment. Early in the morning on 4 July 1986 — Independence Day — Lance Cpl. Foote donned a flight suit, stole a crew truck, and motored out to a Marine A4 Skyhawk that was technically down for maintenance.
The ailerons were out of adjustment, and there was something amiss with the nose wheel. Regardless, Edward Foote, a young Marine who had previously only flown gliders, climbed aboard, ran through the startup procedure, and soon had the little jet turning and burning.
A left front view of a Marine Attack Squadron 322 (VMA-332) A-4M Skyhawk aircraft parked on the flight line.
The Crime
It was still dark when Foote angled the nimble little attack plane onto the blacked-out runway. Before anyone was the wiser, he firewalled the throttle and blasted off into the California skies. For the time being, at least, he was free.
Lance Cpl. Foote flew the plane for about 45 minutes. He angled out over the Pacific Ocean and entertained himself doing barrel rolls and loops, covering some 50 miles in the process. Eventually, he headed back to the airfield, made five separate passes over the runway, and then executed a perfect landing. Tragically, by then, somebody had noticed that an attack jet was missing.
Foote was charged in a General Court Martial with about a zillion different infractions and confined to the brig. After some vigorous negotiations between the Marine Corps and his attorney, the charges were dropped.
In quiet moments, I suspect all involved at least quietly sympathized with the kid’s plight. Foote was credited with 4.5 months served in confinement and separated with an Other-than-Honorable discharge. His parents were reportedly thrilled with the outcome.
The Rest of the Story
Curiously, our tale does not end there. I mentioned Edward Foote was a born aviator. Once the dust settled on his little attack plane larceny, Foote found another cockpit into which to climb.
Once he properly earned his pilot ratings, he attempted to fly for both Honduras and Israel. Failing at that, he did eventually qualify as a test pilot. Foote was ultimately rated in more than twenty military and civilian aircraft and served as a contract pilot for NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory. Before he hung up his flight suit, Edward Foote had been awarded patents in both aviation design and engineering.
Disney tells us to follow our dreams. That’s a fine sentiment if somewhat impractical. If we all aspired to be princesses or princes, there would be no one left over to do the real work in society.
It is indeed OK to chase those dreams so long as we remain at least somewhat grounded in reality. However, there are some among us, like Edward Foote, who simply seem destined to bend the world to their will. When the flight surgeon told him he’d never fly a Marine attack jet, Foote just stole one and did it anyway.
The list of reasons why he should not have done that is long. It would have been awfully easy to have balled up that airplane and killed himself and others in the process. Only he didn’t. Edward Foote went on to a successful flying career as a test pilot for NASA. In so doing, this audacious young criminal served in some strange small way as a hero to us all.