USAF (Ret.)
11/19/2013 - Winter 2013/2014 -- Anyone who ever told a flying story started with "There I was ... "
You may call them war stories, bar stories, hangar-flying stories, or anything else, but when military personnel with some slack time get together, there is a good chance someone will start telling tales. In the Air Force, these are likely to be flying stories.
"There I was at 43,000 feet, a fire in the cockpit, and a boiling thunderstorm flashing lightning at me as I was barely skimming its top! Then number two starts unwinding ... "
Fun tales? Yes.
Do they have anything to do with safety, lessons learned, crew management, or tanker and airlift operations? You betcha! Sit back, take a sip of your sarsaparilla, and see if you agree.
Picture two or three folks swapping tales.
You might hear "Yeah, but . . ." when one guy has told a story, and the next guy is pretty sure he can top it. Sometimes the aircraft can be working fine, but what if you're not?
"Why, one morning we took off from a base in Turkey, headed for Germany. About the time we flew around the toe of the Italian boot, I started feeling sick. And sicker. Then real sick. Figured it must have been those hash browns I had for breakfast at the mess. There was just me and the copilot, so I couldn't abandon the cockpit for long."
About here, you know the story is gonna get better.
"Heck, the copilot was right out of training and on his first trip to Europe. The weather in Germany was down to minimums in rain and fog, and I couldn't ask him to fly that approach. I was so sick I knew I was going to die, but I also knew I had to get that plane on the ground first!"
"We started down, bouncing through the rotten weather--really helped my stomach--flew the approach, and then painted that Starlifter on the runway! It turned out to be one of the best approaches and landings I'd flown in months. We got that puppy parked, and I went to the Q and slept the entire crew rest. The next morning I was fit and ready."
The next guy nods and takes over.
"That reminds me of the time I was a copilot on Old Shaky and got sick coming out of Africa . . ."
And so it goes.
The point is that these are not just useless stories or wastes of time. They serve valuable purposes. There is often a genuine safety message that is transmitted in many of our war stories. They might describe how you coped with a problem or cheated death in a way that might help someone else. Think of flight tales as possible NOTAMS.
There is a historical component. Times change. Destinations change. Leadership changes, and certainly the equipment changes, but aircrew remains aircrew.
Human, fallible, funny, brave, and dedicated to duty, honor, country. We ARE our stories and they are us.
When we laugh (or cry) together, we build that camaraderie that binds us as a crew, a squadron, a wing, or an air force to everyone else who not only wears the blue, but also to those who wear the other uniforms of the United States. We become brothers and sisters in a way that will carry through to the end of our days. Many of us say our time in the service and the friends we made there represent our finest hours.
Our "war" stories remind us of those times when we worked together on something bigger than ourselves. Whether you serve a few years and go on to something else or serve a full career, you will have stories to tell. When you are long in the tooth, grey of hair, and bending with the weight of years, or when you go to your unit reunion, you will walk a little taller. Your eyes will light at the sight of a comrade from long ago. You'll hug, shake hands, and tell the old jokes and stories--recount the times of peril and those of fun.
You may note your evenings get earlier and earlier, the stories get better with each telling, and those who are no longer with you get reverent recollections that invariably end with raucous stories!
Here comes the safety message: You definitely want to make it to old age! There is a lot to be said for longevity. Pay attention, listen to the stories, and learn (sometimes you'll learn what not to do), and know they'll be told for a long time. Hopefully, by you. Sure, safety awareness is rules and regulations and training, but it is also common sense, and perhaps, in the ultimate way of doing things "right," it can be fun, too. The accounts our hangar-flying tales relate bring witness to our profession and provide real life explanations of how things were--sometimes illuminating both mistakes and great saves! Gathered together, they reflect our history.
Remember the guy who was telling about getting sick coming out of Africa?
"I spent most of the 10-hour flight sprawled on the cockpit floor, covered by an army blanket, and sick as the proverbial dog. (Safety note to self: When they say drink only bottled water, make sure the ice cubes are made from bottled water, too.)
"We came from Ouagadougou--in Upper Volta then, but they have since changed the name of the country to Burkina Faso--across the Sahara to Libya. The crew helped me into the copilot seat for the landing, but I wasn't much help to the AC."
"The truck that met the aircraft took me and the whole crew to the clinic, where a corpsman was on duty. I remember he was a big guy. He literally picked me up and sat me on a gurney.
'Lieutenant,' he smiled, 'we're gonna have to take a blood sample to see what variety of Montezuma's revenge you've got.' Later one of the crew told me that as the syringe filled with blood, what little color was left in my face seemed to leave in a direct correlation. He said, "You just faded away on that gurney, and said, 'Sarge, you better put it back . . . ' Three days later, when we took off again, the crew was still laughing."
Sometimes just a sentence or two reminds you of a story. Like the fellow on a training flight along the Northern tier, landing in a driving snowstorm, the drifts so heavy the runway plows had been unable to keep up. The aircraft bounced on landing, but the trainee salvaged things the second touchdown. As they rolled out, the instructor announced over the intercom, "I didn't know you could bounce one of these on a foot of snow . . . "
In the grand tradition, the tales will continue. Be sure to mine them for pearls of wisdom as well as for laughs.
You be safe out there, okay? I'll be waiting to hear your stories.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment