I can't imagine that the rotor is held on by one nut. Man! Glad I didn't know that when I flew in a military helo many years ago. I was freaked out enough because it didn't have doors and I have a fear of heights!
Interesting you should say that, being an Air Force vet and all (!), but I am too. Always have been -- textbook acrophobe. I learned to conquer it to a fair degree, but the world still starts spinning around if I get any higher up than about 15 feet. What's funny, though, is if I'm in a motorized conveniance like a helo, I have no problem. Go figure. I got yelled at a few times by the crew chiefs for hanging too far out the doors sight-seeing while we buzzed around, "Dammit doc -- get back in here! If you fall out, I don't want to deal with the paperwork!"
One more helo story and then I'm off for the weekend...
I also volunteered for TAD when Gallant Eagle 1980 was in progress, and found myself on the USS Tarawa (LHA-1) for a couple of weeks. In fact, that, along with the couple of weeks we were on 48-hour alert to go to Iran, was the only time I was on a ship the whole time I was in the Nav. The Tarawa was very new at the time, and very pristine as ships go. I didn't have a whole heckuva lot to do, so after taking care of my Marines after morning muster, I'd go down to the sickbay and assist the shipboard corpsmen with sick call.
Other times, I'd hang around the flight deck when permitted and watch the ops there. One incredibly hostile environment, especially when those Harriers were taking off. The noise alone would make your teeth ache, and FOD was a real hazard. One afternoon, I got to go on a resupply run inland (we were about three miles offshore of Camp Pendleton). Our destination was a mock aggressor force that was surrounding a combat town made of cinderblocks in 5 Area, Camp Margarita, which we all called "Margaritaville".
Well, copter pilots are a special (that is, particularly crazy) lot. Before we landed at the south end of the zone, the pilot decided to swoop down real low over the town at high speed just for the sheer hell of it. We cleared a two-story structure by about twenty feet, and I remember a black Marine with an M-60 on top of the roof blazing away at us with blanks as we passed over -- if he had been using real ammo, he would have blown us out of the sky. I was hanging out the door going, "Yeeee-haaaawww!".
Once we'd passed, we did a fast turn. If you've ever watched a helo do this, you'll notice it does what they call a "break" -- the bird sort of falls on it's side in mid-air, falls a bit before the main rotor catches air again, and then it straightens out and gains altitude and speed again. But for a matter of several seconds, you are simply suspended in mid-air in what feels like zero-G. Well, everyone inside is white-knuckled hanging on whatever they can inside, but the gear sometimes isn't so lucky. On this occasion, an M-16 decided to slide out the door in slow motion. A Marine grabbed for it and missed, and out the door it floated -- right up and at the main rotor. All I could think of was that rifle hitting the blades; it would have been game over. But it didn't. As the bird started to fall, so did the rifle, right back through both open doors of the Huey. This time it didn't float, though, it picked up speed like a rocket and shot through so fast that it simply knocked my foot aside when I tried to stop it with my boot. Boy, that hurt! And down to the ground the Mattel went, and I luckily it didn't hit anyone down there, although the Marine who's rifle it was had some explaining to do when we got back to the ship.
Our return to the Tarawa was an adventure all by itself. We were in a pattern about 2,500 feet up, waiting for a flight of four Harriers to take off. That was something to watch, and even at that altitude and over the noise of the Huey, you could hear the engines of those jets shrieking. Our pilot, to stay amused while we were waiting, decided to chase a flock of seagulls that was hovering around the ship. Talk about a stomach-in-your-throat kinda ride! Crazy maniac. He sure had fun, though.
That's it. I'm outta here. Thanks ever so much for a great day, everyone. Stay safe!