Thought this was an interesting look at the V-22:
Military
Agony and Adjustment: The Odyssey of the Osprey
Overhaul & Maintenance Jun 01 , 2009 , p. 65
Jerome Greer Chandler
The V-22 Osprey finally is coming of age.
A quarter century since development began—four crashes and 30 lives later—the most-maligned aircraft ever to enter the inventory of the U.S. military is finding its sea legs. The V-22 Osprey finally is coming of age. Eighty-seven of an authorized fleet of 458 tilt-rotor, vertical take-off and landing aircraft are operational. Plans call for 360 MV-22Bs for the Marines, 50 CV-22Bs for the Air Force and 48 MV-22Bs for the Navy, although none of the Navy’s have yet been built. The first fleet Ospreys went to war for the Marines in October 2007, when 10 MV-22Bs flown by the VM-263 “Thunder Chicken” squadron started sorties in Iraq’s formerly volatile Al Anbar province, northwest of Baghdad. According to a Jan. 2, 2009, report by Christopher Bolkcom of the Congressional Research Service (CRS), the aircraft completed more than 2,000 air support requests, in the process racking up more than 2,000 combat flight hours. The average mission-capable rate: 68%.
While that 68% isn’t where the Marine Corps wants to be, it’s light years ahead of where the problem-plagued aircraft was. Consider some context:
June 11, 1991. The fifth V-22 prototype crashed on its first flight. The cause, according to the CRS report: “incorrect wiring in a flight control system;”
July 20, 1992. The fourth Osprey prototype crashed on landing at Quantico Marine Air Station, killing seven. The CRS cites the reason as “a fire resulting from hydraulic component failures and design problems in the engine nacelles;”
April 8, 2000. A V-22 crashed near Tucson, Ariz., killing 19. CRS says an investigation determined the aircraft descended “in excess of the recommended flight envelope,” setting up something called “power settling”—the infamous “ring vortex state.” The military suspended flight testing for two months in the aftermath of the human factors accident;
Nov. 17, 2000. While deeming the V-22 “operationally effective,” the Department of Defense’s Director of Operational Test and Evaluation says the aircraft still was not “operationally suitable, primarily because of reliability, maintainability, availability, human factors and interoperatiability issues;”
Dec. 11, 2000. An MV-22 crashed near Jacksonville, N.C. All four on board died. The Marine Corps later determined the crash was caused by what CRS cites as a “burst hydraulic line in one of the Osprey’s two engine casings, and a software malfunction that caused the aircraft to accelerate and decelerate unpredictably when the pilots tried to compensate.” The Marines ground the V-22 fleet;
December 2000. An anonymous letter was mailed to the media by someone claiming to be a V-22 mechanic, the CRS report says. In it, the author claims that Osprey maintenance records had been falsified for two years—this at the “explicit direction of the squadron commander.” Later reports show the V-22 squadron commander admitted to falsifying maintenance records, and the Marine Corps relieved him of command;
June 2005. CRS says a U.S. grand jury indicted a company for allegedly falsely certifying the quality of titanium tubing for the Osprey. The test program was suspended for 11 days.
By any metric—men, money, material—V-22’s learning curve has been astoundingly steep. Now, the people charged with the care and feeding of this decidedly different flying machine believe its problems are less dramatic and more tractable.
Sandy Solutions
One of the more proximate problems confronting the V-22 is powerplant longevity. The aircraft’s two Rolls-Royce AE1107Cs “are not lasting as long as expected,” says the CRS report. Initially, the Marine Corps anticipated the engines would stay on-wing approximately 600 flight hours. “However,” says the CRC, “fleet-wide engines are lasting about 420 flight hours, while aircraft deployed to Iraq are requiring engine change-outs about every 380 flight hours.”
“Three hundred and eighty [hours] is certainly less than we wanted,” conceded Marine Col. Matt Mulhern, the V-22’s joint program manager. Responsible for the maturation of both the Marine’s MV-22Bs and the Air Force’s CV-22Bs, Mulhern says on-wing time “is a function of the environment” in Iraq. Specifically, it’s the sand. “The make-up of the dirt and dust over in Iraq is different [than in the continental U.S.]. It’s more like fine talcum powder, as opposed to coarser-grained stuff that suffuses other arid areas.
The engine air/particle separators (EAPS) have had a tough time dealing with the fine airborne effluent. “Nothing is going to separate all that stuff,” says Mulhern. “Eventually you’re going to collect dust and dirt in the engine.” When it gets to the compressor section, it erodes the blades. That changes the airflow and cuts the power produced by the ostensibly 6,150 shp Rolls-Royce engines. “The turbine tends to cake up, and glass up,” he said.
The Marines responded by washing both the turbine and compressor sections. Mulhern says maintainers have increased on-wing time to “about 480 hours” in Iraq. That’s a 25% improvement. In more benign environments such as at the Marine Corp.’s New River, N.C., facility, he says the engines are getting about 1,300 hours on-wing.
Despite the best projections and the most arduous simulations, nothing remotely resembles the rigors of field. “True operational hours. [That’s] where you start to learn about an airplane,” says Mulhern. During developmental tests, the aircraft sits in a hangar when it’s not flying. It’s maintained by a cadre of top-flight technicians. “You treat [the aircraft] with kid gloves,” says the V-22 program manager. “They never get rained on.” It’s the operational environment that takes them to the edge.
In the maturational scheme of things, the Osprey still is a fledgling. While the program has been around for a quarter of a century, all V-22s combined have just racked up approximately 55,000 flight hours. And Mulhern said, “85% of those have just come in the last four years.”
Planners anticipated some issues, such as rotor blade erosion—this by virtue of what aircraft encountered at Kirtland Air Force Base, N.M., and Twentynine Palms, Calif. But that was stateside sand. When the aircraft actually got to Iraq, “We didn’t have near the [rotor blade erosion] problems we thought we were going to have,” says the colonel.
What drove maintainers crazy, at least at first, was that insidious dust. If EAPS had a hard time handling Iraqi particulate infiltration, so did the V-22’s wiring system. The micro-fine, talc-like stuff “was actually working its way into the conduit of the wires,” says Mulhern. Because the Marines were performing essential engine washes, moisture mixed with the dust to produce a fast-hardening muck the colonel described as a kind of “Quikrete…It would just turn into a very hard little ball. And that would chafe the wire.” Technicians spent an inordinate amount of time troubleshooting shorts.
Things got so bad that one squadron commander told Mulhern his people were spending one hour of troubleshooting and wire repair for every flight hour. That wreaks havoc on the mission capability rate. The solution? Changing the wiring bundle parts code from strictly repairable to repairable or replaceable. “Once we did that, it settled itself down,” he said.
Sophisticated Schoolhouse
A whole array of Osprey issues seems to be settling down just now. One of the reasons is the concerted effort the U.S. military is making to better maintain the aircraft. It all starts with training, and that begins in a new 40,000-sq.-ft. V-22 Maintenance Training Facility at New River, N.C. The plant is a full-up, full-tilt training arena, replete with a 26,900-sq.-ft. bay that can accommodate as many as four full-size aircraft.
The facility sports a sophisticated fault-insertion system that allows future Osprey technicians to simulate specific squawks in a less intimidating environment. “Usually, when you’re training a maintainer, you take them out on a real airplane, which everybody is real antsy about,” says Mulhern. “You have some master sergeant breathing down your neck, and if you break anything he’s going to kill you.”
On a depot level, Marines are maintaining V-22s in existing facilities nearby, at the Fleet Readiness Center East (FRC-East) in Cherry Point, N.C.
So, how much of the facility commander’s time is the high-profile airplane taking up just now? “Frankly, not very much,” says Col. David Smith, FRC-East’s commanding officer. “That’s because we just inducted our first aircraft in March.” A second Osprey is set for June induction.
Look for intake to pick up steam at a slow but steady clip. Smith says V-22s are scheduled to roll into his depot-level maintenance plant after they’ve been operational for 60 months. The Marine Corps pegs its depot maintenance to months, rather than flight hours. The colonel estimates Fleet Readiness Center East will handle nine of the tilt-rotors over the next two years, but noted, “that cycle is not etched in stone yet, because we’re in the prototype phase.” The specific flow is “an engineering decision,” a decision predicated by data gathered for the craft’s Integrated Maintenance Program, or IMP.
The way things stand as of this writing, V-22 programmed depot maintenance will take 3,500 man-hours and consume 90 days, although Smith again emphasized these figures are “just an engineering estimate…That’s what we’re operating from as a baseline.”
While the cycle time is still subject to change, the mettle of the maintainers the Marines intend to employ is not. “We made a conscious, deliberate plan for staffing our initial V-22 stand-up,” says Smith. “We took people that were skilled artisans off of our other [aircraft] lines to bring in some A-Team type guys.”
The trick, of course, is to attract a cadre of accomplished technicians without eviscerating current aircraft lines—AV-8 Harriers, EA-6B Intruders, CH-53 heavy-lift helos and venerable CH-46 Sea Knights.
“We obviously did not want to stumble coming out of the gate,” says Smith. “We [also] did not want to undermine our other four aircraft lines.”
The solution: In addition to bringing in grey beards from other lines, FRC-East peppered the ranks of V-22 maintainers with younger people entering the workforce through co-op training programs. Helping to anchor the mix are former Marines with V-22 experience who used to work on the aircraft. “Now they’re in civilian clothes,” says Smith, “and they’re working on that same bureau number right here at FRC-East.”
All the Osprey mechanics are receiving decent doses of training, not just at the Marine Corp.’s New River training facility, but at “Bell Helicopter, where they’re making some of the large composite pieces and other components,” says Smith.
The V-22, a product of a Bell-Boeing collaboration, makes significant use of composite structures. Boeing Rotorcraft Systems is responsible for the fuselage, all subsystems, digital avionics and fly-by-wire flight control systems. Partner Bell Helicopter Textron’s territory takes in the wing, transmissions, empennage, rotor systems and engine installation, from its completion facility in Amarillo, Texas.
Depot-Level Surprises?
While earlier Osprey iterations gained notoriety for nasty surprises, Smith contends that’s not the case with the aircraft coming into FRC-East. “All of the surprises we’ve found have been pleasant [ones].” That’s because the aircraft he’s seeing in Cherry Point fly regularly. “And an aircraft that’s exercised regularly, and has daily turnaround and pre-flight inspections” is—by definition, he insists—better maintained.
That doesn’t mean there aren’t issues. Like Mulhern, Smith understands there’s plenty of room to ratchet up reliability. The depot already is ferreting out problems, like nacelle center bodies. Those structures diffuse the V-22’s heat signature, a critical capability in hostile areas of operation where heat-seeking surface-to-air missiles are a constant threat.
The nacelle center body is a $100,000 consumable part. “It was supposed to last a long, long time,” says Smith. “It’s lasted a fraction of that.” FRC East engineers and maintainers came up with a way to replace the tenth-of-a-million dollar part “at a fraction” of that cost.
Despite the gradual leveling of this aircraft’s tortuous learning curve, it’s still too early to make sweeping conclusions about whether the V-22 Osprey will ever be the resolute, reliable warfighter the U.S. military first envisioned at the program’s launch back in 1981. For now it is, perhaps, comfort enough that its growing pains mimic those of more mundane flying machines. Given the Osprey’s background, that’s progress. ◗

