- A Year Later, New Details Emerge About the Unmanned Flight and Military Fallout
More than a year after a bizarre and widely publicized incident in which a U.S. Marine Corps F-35B continued flying for over 60 miles after its pilot ejected, new details have surfaced. Col. Charles “Tre” Del Pizzo, the Marine aviator at the center of the event, recently broke his silence in an interview with The Post and Courier, shedding light on the terrifying moment he was forced to eject—and the controversial aftermath that ultimately ended his military career.
The crash, which left the military scrambling to locate the missing stealth jet for nearly 30 hours, sparked national headlines. The U.S. Marine Corps (USMC) concluded its investigation in late 2024, determining that a mix of equipment malfunctions, bad weather, and pilot error led to the mishap. While Del Pizzo was cleared of misconduct and returned to flying, his command position was later revoked, raising concerns about accountability and military leadership.
Now, for the first time, Del Pizzo provides a detailed, firsthand account of what happened on September 17, 2023, from the moment his cockpit displays failed to the moment he landed in a civilian’s backyard, fearing he had crashed the jet into a populated area.
On that fateful day, two F-35Bs—call signs “SWEDE 11” and “SWEDE 12”—took off from Marine Corps Air Station (MCAS) Beaufort for a routine training mission over the Atlantic. Del Pizzo, an experienced aviator with over 2,800 flight hours, was flying as lead.
The mission proceeded smoothly, despite poor weather conditions that included heavy rain and mist. But as the jets turned back toward Joint Base Charleston, trouble struck.
At 1:32:05 p.m., Del Pizzo’s Helmet Mounted Display (HMD) flickered, then went completely dark. At the same time, his cockpit’s panoramic display—critical for flight data—also failed. Alarms blared in his headset as multiple systems began reporting failures.
Fifteen seconds later, the displays momentarily returned, but the situation rapidly deteriorated. The HMD cut out again, along with both primary communication radios, transponder, and instrument landing system. Now effectively flying blind, Del Pizzo relied only on his backup standby instruments.
“I wasn’t sure if the jet was still responding to my inputs,” Del Pizzo recalled.
Attempting to troubleshoot, he pulled back the throttle—but instead of a smooth response, he felt a sharp nose-up tilt and a falling sensation, like the jet was no longer under control. According to the F-35B flight manual, pilots encountering out-of-control flight (OCF) below 6,000 feet are instructed to eject immediately.
At 1:32:46 p.m., Del Pizzo made the split-second decision to eject.
“The next thing I remember, as I came up the seat rail, my helmet and mask got ripped off in the wind stream—straight off my face,” Del Pizzo said.
His parachute deployed, but metal fragments from the canopy explosion struck his neck, causing bleeding. As he drifted downward, he was suddenly struck with a new fear:
“I could still hear the jet’s engine. I thought, ‘This thing is going to come down and hit me.’ I thought I was going to die right there in the parachute.”
Descending over a residential area, Del Pizzo made quick adjustments, detaching his seat pan and survival kit to avoid getting tangled in power lines. He landed safely in a backyard and immediately knocked on the nearest door, asking the family inside to call 911.
Meanwhile, the $100 million F-35B continued flying on its own for over 11 minutes. Military and law enforcement launched an urgent search effort, even asking the public for help locating the missing jet.
Eventually, radar data revealed that after Del Pizzo ejected, the F-35B stabilized itself, climbing to 9,300 feet before descending in a wide turn at speeds reaching 635 mph. It ultimately crashed in a remote field in South Carolina on Sept. 18.
Military investigators later explained that the F-35’s automatic flight control systems likely kept it airborne after the ejection.
Following standard protocol, three separate investigations were launched:
- Navy Aviation Mishap Board – Found the crash was caused by electrical and display malfunctions, exacerbated by bad weather. The investigation also highlighted that pilots are not adequately trained for cascading failures at low altitude.
- Field Flight Performance Board – Unanimously praised Del Pizzo’s actions, stating he had “exercised sound judgment” and followed flight procedures correctly.
- Command Investigation – Found Del Pizzo misdiagnosed the situation and ejected from a “flyable” aircraft, concluding it was pilot error—though it did not accuse him of misconduct.
- Notably, the Command Investigation also criticized the F-35B flight manual itself, stating its definition of “out-of-control flight” was too broad, potentially contributing to the ejection decision.
- Despite the controversy, Del Pizzo was allowed to return to flying in April 2024, and was soon assigned to command Marine Test and Evaluation Squadron (VMX-1) at MCAS Yuma.
- Just 103 days into his new role, Del Pizzo was abruptly removed from command.
During a video call, Lt. Gen. Bradford Gering informed him that he had done nothing wrong, but that a press release about the investigation findings was about to be published. The decision to relieve him of command allegedly came directly from Gen. Eric Smith, the USMC Commandant.
The official reason? “Loss of trust and confidence”—a standard phrase used in military firings.
Del Pizzo was denied a change of command ceremony, as well as a direct conversation with Gen. Smith. To many, it felt like punishment.
“In aviation, we have a culture of learning from mistakes,” Del Pizzo said. “If you don’t do that, you create a culture of fear. And when pilots are afraid to make decisions, that’s how people get hurt—or killed.”
Other Marine aviators echoed the concern. “We fired a guy because of a press release,” one pilot told The Post and Courier. Another warned that blaming the pilot sets a dangerous precedent.
After 31 years in the Marines, Del Pizzo retired with an honorable discharge. Despite the controversy, he remains at peace with his decision to eject—but still wonders if politics played a role in his removal.
“Maybe it was just a business decision,” he said. “But there’s a human element. You can’t just discard someone because of a bad headline. That’s not how you maintain a culture of trust.”
For Del Pizzo, the love of flying never faded.
“When I’m in the air, I feel like that’s where I’m supposed to be. And when I’m not in the air, I just want to get back there.”
