The F-100 had an interesting ground starting option, a large chamber
that received a large gas generating cartridge. When ignited by
electrical current, the expanding gas from the black powder-like
pyrotechnic cartridge drove a starter turbine which brought the engine
up to a self-sustaining rpm via a drive system. This eliminated the
need for heavy and bulky ground starting units, but the starter
cartridge spewed out a characteristic dense cloud of choking black
smoke, which was often mistaken by inexperienced ground crews for an
engine fire.

The powder charge for the ground start came in a big sealed can, and
on opening and extracting the cartridge, you'd find two small metal
tabs on the bottom of the cartridge. These tabs were the electrical
contact that fired the cartridge when the pilot moved the throttle
outboard on start, before bringing the throttle forward. As soon as a
tiny RPM registered on the tach, you brought the throttle around the
horn to feed fuel and engine ignition to the rapidly-building engine
speed.

Sometimes the big metal receptacle that held the gas generator
cartridge would get so dirty from repeated use that the metal tabs
wouldn't make contact. Then the cartridge would refuse to fire, and
the crew chief would give the starter receptacle a good healthy whack
with a chock, usually curing the powder charge of any reluctance to
fire. We'd often take a can holding a starter cartridge with us as an
alternative starting means on cross-country.

The story is told, one of few that I didn't witness, of John Green
going into Memphis, Millington NAS or MCAS, in an F-100 back in the
very early seventies. He was met by a couple of young Marine ground
crewmen, who asked what kind of plane he was flying. "F-100 Super
Sabre" in reply only got him further puzzled looks. One of the ground
crew said, "Sir, I don't think we have tech data on this bird. What do
you need for start, a huffer or just electrical"?

"Neither one", John came back. "If I can get, oh, about six guys to
give me a push to start me rolling, I'll just pop the clutch and get
the engine started that way." More and more doubtful looks! "Yes sir"
was the comeback. What else would a young Marine say?

The Hun was pretty finely balanced on the two main gear struts. When
you tapped the brakes, the nose strut compressed so much that the nose
took a dip, just like the hood of a car used to when being
clutch-started. So now six Marines are standing at the ready, still
doubtful but not about to question an Officer on procedure. "Just get
me going at about a fast walk", John instructed. "I'll wave you all
clear when we're fast enough, pop the clutch and be on my way. Thanks
for the good turnaround!"

Six Marines pushing, they quickly get the bird up to a brisk-stepping
speed. John waves his arms, and the Marines warily stand well clear.
The nose dips as John "pops the clutch", there is a big cloud of
choking smoke as the engine whines to life, and off goes Captain Green
to the takeoff end of the runway, leaving six puzzled Marines in his
wake.


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Don't know if it is true but really funny.