February 18, 1959
Den Helder Naval Base, Netherlands
Karel Doorman's air group, along with the planes of 323 Squadron, are craned aboard the aircraft carrier. While the air group would normally fly out to their ship and trap aboard the carrier, the addition of the dozen Hawker Hunters tied down on every open inch of her flight deck made that impossible. Doorman will deploy to New Guinea with ten Grumman TBF Avengers and fourteen Hawker Sea Hawks with two Sikorsky S-55 Helicopters providing ASW and SAR. Though the Sea Hawks are considered obsolete, they are newly equipped with American Sidewinder infrared guided air-to-air missiles.
An urgent request to the United States for an emergency purchase of Douglas AD Skyraiders or A4D Skyhawks is declined, as the United States Navy does not have enough spare airframes to part with and still meet their own operational needs considering the increasing tensions in the South West Pacific. The United States does offer to provide a squadron's worth of FJ-4Bs to the Netherlands as that aircraft type is being retired from the fleet. But after looking at the weight and performance of the aircraft, the Royal Netherlands Navy is forced to decline, as Karel Doorman would be unable to launch the Fury with a useful bomb load.
Several objections are made to deploying the Doorman with strike aircraft that first saw service in World War Two, but political considerations overrule the operational concerns. The Netherlands has to be seen to respond to Indonesian aggression in the region, and the best, and indeed only, way to do so was by deploying a carrier battle group to the region.
Are you positive on that? FJ-4B routinely launched from H-8 cats.. This is a section from a book by an FJ-4 pilot that transitioned to A-4's later.. As I understand KD's cats they should be able to launch the Fury with at least a 2/3's bomb load and a full A2A one.
Kearsarge was equipped with two of the old H-8 hydraulic catapults. To prepare for launch, you taxied onto the start of a 225-foot slot in the carrier’s deck that was the catapult track. A bridle made up of inch-thick steel wires was hooked to one point on each side of the plane’s fuselage (near the main mounts) and into the curved mouth on the front of the shuttle plate that rode the slot in the carrier’s deck. The shuttle was attached to a piston situated in a long tube underneath the catapult track.
The holdback fitting, a piece of ceramic that looked very much like a weight lifter’s dumbbell, was slipped into a slot under the plane’s tail and attached to the deck with another steel cable. The shuttle was then tensioned—hydraulics moved it forward until the bridle was taut. At this point, the plane squatted from the forward pressure of the shuttle fighting against the strength of the holdback fitting. A huge steel blast deflector, located a few feet behind the plane, was then raised up at a steep angle.
When the crew was ready to shoot you off the bow, the yellow-shirted catapult officer stepped over in front of your wing to prove you wouldn’t be fired off until you were ready. He then raised one arm over his head and twirled two fingers. You shoved the throttle forward to 100 percent power and grabbed a small metal rod that stuck out of the cockpit wall slightly ahead of the throttle. You held the throttle head and that metal rod together in your left hand to make sure that your hand, and the throttle, didn’t fly backward when the cat fired.
After a quick check of the engine instruments, you gave the cat officer a salute with your right hand. Then you tucked your right elbow into your gut and set your hand behind the stick; you didn’t want it to come back in your lap on the cat shot.
The cat officer stepped away from in front of your wing, fingers still twirling over his head, and made sure your path was clear. Then he made a balletlike sweeping motion that took him down on one knee, face and arm toward the bow. His outstretched fingers touched the deck…and the cat fired.
In that instant the hydraulic catapult distinguished itself from the more modern steam catapult. The “slug” that caught the shuttle and pushed you down the cat track started from a point about 20 feet behind your plane. It had accelerated to full bore by the time it picked up the shuttle—and you—on its way to the end of the track and a final speed of about 165 mph. When this force hit you, the holdback fitting snapped in two; it didn’t even slow the shuttle down.
The first time this happened, I blacked out. I woke up about 60 feet above the water, flying. I was so thrilled that I keyed the UHF radio button and yelled
“Yah-hoo!”