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Military Translations
(In the spirit of inter-service rivalry -- provided by former Air Force)
NAVY/USMC
Head
Rack
Chow Hall
"Cookie"
Coffee/Mud
Bug Joice
MRE
Ge-Dunk
Utilities
Zoom Bag
Cover/Head Gear
Seaman
Chief
Captain
Captain's Mast
Berthing/Billets
Skivvies
Thrown in the Brig
Ship's Store/BX
TAD
Cruise/Afloat
Ground Grabbers
Boon Dockers
Low Quarters
Shipmate/Marine
Die for your Country
Terminate/Kill
SEAL
Shore Patrol/MPs
Oouh-Rah!
Salute
Obstacle Course
Grinder / Drill Field
PT Test
Dept. of the Navy
Midshipman
Hard-Core |
ARMY
Latrine
Cot
Mess Hall
Mess Cook
Cup of Joe
Kool Aid
MRE
Snack Bar
BDU's
Flight Suit
Beret
Private
Sergeant
Colonel
Article 15
Barracks
Underwear
Put in confinement facility
PX
TDY
Deploy
Athletic Shoes
Jump Boots
Low Quarters
Battle Buddy
Die for your Battle Buddy
Take Out
SF/Ranger
MPs
Hooah!
Salute
Confidence Course
Parade Field
APFT
DoD
Cadet
Strak |
AIR FORCE
Powder Room
A Single with ruffle and duvet
Cafe'
Contract Chef
Vanilla Skimm Latte'
Shirley Temple
Happy Meal To Go
BurgerKing
Casual Wear
Business Casual
Optional
Bobby or Jimmy
Bob or Jim
Robert or James
Time Out
Dormitory/Apartment
Lingerie
Grounded
AAFES Shopping Mall
PCS with family
Huh?
Flip-Flops
Berkenstocks
Patent Leather Pumps
Honey
Die for Air Conditioning
Back on Base for Happy Hour
Librarian
SF
Hip-Hip hurray!
Wave
Class VI Parking Lot
What?
No conversion available
DoD Lite
Debutant
'Way Too Serious' |
Aviation Rules to Live By
The only three things a wingman should ever say are:
1. Two's up.
2. Lead, you're on fire.
3. I'll take the fat chick.
...and in a multi-place aircraft, there are only three things the copilot should ever say:
1. Nice landing, Sir.
2. I'll buy the first round.
3. I'll take the fat chick.
As a new copilot on Americam Airlines, I was told to say these three things, and otherwise keep my mouth shut and not touch anything:
1. Clear on the right.
2. Outer (marker) on the double (indicator)
3. I'll eat the chicken. (Crew meals consisted of one steak and one chicken to avoid possible food poisoning of the cockpit crew).
About Fighter Pilots:
1. As an Aviator in flight you can do anything you want... As long as it's right...
And we'll let you know if it's right after you get down.
2. You can't fly forever without getting killed.
3. As a fighter pilot only two bad things can happen to you and one of them will:
a. One day you will walk out to the aircraft knowing that it is your last flight in a fighter.
b. One day you will walk out to the airplane not knowing that it is your last flight in a fighter.
4. Success is being able to walk to your F.E.B.
5. There are Rules and there are Laws. The rules are made by men who think that they know better how to fly your airplane than you. The Laws (of Physics) were made by the Great One. You can, and sometimes should, suspend the Rules but you can never suspend the Laws.
6. More about Rules:
a. The rules are a good place to hide if you don't have a better idea and the talent to execute it.
b. If you deviate from a rule, it must be a flawless performance. (e.g., If you fly under a bridge, don't hit the bridge.)
7. The fighter pilot is the highest form of life on earth.
8. The ideal fighter pilot is the perfect blend of discipline and aggressiveness.
9. About check rides:
a. The only real objective of a check ride is to complete it and get the bastard out of your airplane.
b. It has never occurred to any flight examiner that the examinee couldn't care less what the examiner's opinion of his flying ability really is.
10. The medical profession is the natural enemy of the aviation profession.
11. The job of the Wing Commander is to worry incessantly that his career depends solely on the abilities of his aviators to fly their airplanes without mishap and that their only minuscule contribution to the effort is to bet their lives on it.
12. Ever notice that the only experts who decree that the age of the pilot is over are people who have never flown anything? Also, in spite of the intensity of their feelings that the pilot's day is over I know of no such expert who has volunteered to be a passenger in a non-piloted aircraft.
13. It is absolutely imperative that the fighter pilot be unpredictable. Rebelliousness is very predictable. In the end, conforming almost all the time is the best way to be unpredictable.
14. He who demands everything that his aircraft can give him is a pilot; he that demands one iota more is a fool.
15. If you're gonna fly low, do not fly slow!
16. It is solely the pilot's responsibility to never let any other thing touch his aircraft.
17. If you can learn how to fly as a Lt. and not forget how to fly by the time you're a Lt.Col you will have lived a happy life.
18. About night flying:
a. Remember that the airplane doesn't know that it's dark.
b. On a clear, moonless night, never fly between the tanker's lights.
c. There are certain aircraft sounds that can only be heard at night.
d. If you're going to night fly, it might as well be in the weather so you can double count your exposure to both hazards.
e. Night formation is really an endless series of near misses in equilibrium with each other.
f. You would have to pay a lot of money at a lot of amusement parks and perhaps add a few drugs, to get the same blend of psychedelic sensations as a single engine night weather flight on the wing.
19. One of the most important skills that a pilot must develop is the skill to ignore those things that were designed by non-pilots to get the pilot's attention.
20. At the end of the day, the controllers, ops supervisors, maintenance guys, weather guessers, and birds; they're all trying to kill you and your job is to not let them!
21. The concept of "controlling" airspace with radar is just a form of FAA sarcasm directed at fighter pilots to see if they're gullible enough to swallow it.
Or to put it another way, when's the last time the FAA ever shot anyone down?
22. Remember that the radio is only an electronic suggestion box for the pilot. Sometimes the only way to clear up a problem is to turn it off.
23. It is a tacit, yet profound admission of the pre-eminence of flying in the hierarchy of the human spirit, that those who seek to control aviators via threats always threaten to take one's wings and not one's life.
24. Remember when flying low and inverted that the rudder still works the same old way but hopefully your IP never taught you "pull stick back, plane go up".
25. Mastering the prohibited maneuvers in the dash-1 is one of the best forms of aviation life insurance you can get.
26. A tactic done twice is a procedure. (Refer to unpredictability discussion above)
27. The aircraft G-limits are only there in case there is another flight by that particular airplane. If subsequent flights do not appear likely, there are no G-limits.
28. One of the beautiful things about a single piloted aircraft is the quality of the social experience.
29. If a mother has the slightest suspicion that her infant might grow up to be a pilot, she had better teach him to put things back where he got them.
30. The ultimate responsibility of the pilot is to fulfill the dreams of the countless millions of earthbound ancestors who could only stare skyward and wish.
31. Any flight over water in a single engine fighter will absolutely guarantee abnormal engine noises and vibrations.
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Thoughts About Aviation
1. As an aviator in flight you can do anything you want... As long as it's right... And we'll let you know if its right after you get down.
2. You can't fly forever without getting killed.
3. As a pilot only two bad things can happen to you and one of them will:
a. One day you will walk out to the aircraft knowing that it is your last flight.
b. One day you will walk out to the airplane not knowing that it is your last flight.
4. Success is being able to walk to your F.E.B.
5. There are Rules and there are Laws. The rules are made by men who think that they know better how to fly your airplane than you.
The Laws (of Physics) were made by the Great One.
You can, and sometimes should, suspend the rules but you can never suspend the Laws.
6. More about Rules:
a. The rules are a good place to hide if you don't have a better idea and the talent to execute it.
b. If you deviate from a rule, it must be a flawless performance.
(e.g.: If you fly under a bridge, don't hit the bridge.)
7. The pilot is the highest form of life on earth.
8. The ideal pilot is the perfect blend of discipline and aggressiveness.
9. About check rides:
a. Having someone climb into your aircraft to grade how you fly is just like having someone come into your bedroom to grade how you screw.
b. The only real objective of a check ride is to complete it and get the bastard out of your airplane.
c. It has never occurred to any flight examiner that the examinee could care less what the examiner's opinion of his flying ability really is.
10. The medical profession is the natural enemy of the aviation profession.
11. The job of the Wing Commander is to worry incessantly that his career depends solely on the abilities of his aviators to fly their airplanes without mishap and that their only minuscule contribution to the effort is to bet their lives on it.
12. Ever notice that the only experts who decree that the age of the pilot is over are people who have never flown anything? Also, in spite of the intensity of their feelings that the pilot's day is over I know of no such expert who has volunteered to be a passenger in a non-piloted aircraft.
13. It is absolutely imperative that the pilot be unpredictable. Rebelliousness is very predictable. In the end, conforming almost all the time is the best way to be unpredictable.
14. He who demands everything that his aircraft can give him is a pilot; he that demands one iota more is a fool.
15. If you're gonna fly low, do not fly slow!
16. It is solely the pilot's responsibility to never let any other thing touch his aircraft.
17. If you can learn how to fly as a Lt. and not forget how to fly by the time you're a Lt.Cdr you will have lived a happy life.
18. About night flying:
a. Remember that the airplane doesn't know that it's dark.
b. On a clear, moonless night, never fly between the tanker's lights.
c. There are certain aircraft sounds that can only be heard at night.
d. If you're going to night fly, it might as well be in the weather so you can double count your exposure to both hazards.
e. Night formation is really an endless series of near misses in equilibrium with each other.
f. You would have to pay a lot of money at a lot of amusement parks and perhaps add a few drugs, to get the same blend of psychedelic sensations as a single night weather flight on the wing.
19. One of the most important skills that a pilot must develop is the skill to ignore those things that were designed by non-pilots to get the pilot's attention.
20. At the end of the day, the controllers, ops supervisors, maintenance guys, weather guessers, and birds; they're all trying to kill you and your job is to not let them!
21. The concept of "controlling" airspace with radar is just a form of FAA sarcasm directed at pilots to see if they're gullible enough to swallow it. Or to put it another way, when is the last time the FAA ever shot anyone down?
22. Remember that the radio is only an electronic suggestion box for the pilot. Sometimes the only way to clear up a problem is to turn it off.
23. It is a tacit, yet profound admission of the pre-eminence of flying in the hierarchy of the human spirit, that those who seek to control aviators via threats always threaten to take one's wings and not one's life.
24. Remember when flying low and inverted that the rudder still works the same old way but hopefully your IP never taught you "pull stick back, plane go up".
25. Mastering the prohibited maneuvers in the dash-1 is one of the best forms of aviation life insurance you can get.
26. A tactic done twice is a procedure. (Refer to unpredictability discussion above)
27. The aircraft G-limits are only there in case there is another flight by that particular airplane. If subsequent flights do not appear likely, there are no G-limits.
28. One of the beautiful things about a single piloted aircraft is the quality of the social experience.
29. If a mother has the slightest suspicion that her infant might grow up to be a pilot she had better teach him to put things back where he got them.
30. The ultimate responsibility of the pilot is to fulfill the dreams of the countless millions of earthbound ancestors who could only stare skyward and wish.
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Military humor.
On some air bases the Air Force is on one side of the field and civilian aircraft use the other side of the field, with the control tower in the middle. One day the tower received a call from an aircraft asking, "What time is it?"
The tower responded, "Who is calling?"
The aircraft replied, "What difference does it make?"
The tower replied, "It makes a lot of difference........
If it is an American Airlines flight, it is 3 o'clock.
If it is an Air Force plane, it is 1500 hours.
If it is a Navy aircraft, it is 6 bells.
If it is an Army aircraft, the big hand is on the 12 and the little hand is on the 3.
If it is a Marine Corps aircraft, it's Thursday afternoon and 120 minutes to "Happy Hour".
Officer: "Sailor, do you have change for a dollar?"
Sailor: "Sure, buddy."
Officer: "That's no way to address an officer! Now let's try it again!"
Officer: "Sailor. Do you have change for a dollar?"
Sailor: "No, SIR!"
A Navy Master Chief and a Air Force Chief Master Sergeant were sitting in the barbershop. They were both just getting finished with their shaves, when the barbers reached for some after-shave to slap on their faces.
The Chief Master Sergeant shouted, "Hey, don't put that stuff on me! My wife will think I've been in a whorehouse!"
The Master Chief turned to his barber and said, "Go ahead and put it on. My wife doesn't know what the inside of a whorehouse smells like".
"Well," snarled the tough old Navy Chief to the bewildered Seaman, "I suppose after you get discharged from the Navy, you'll just be waiting for me to die so you can come and piss on my grave."
"Not me, Chief!" the Seaman replied. "Once I get out of the Navy, I'm never going to stand in line again"!
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"The Gospel According to St. Fresnel of the Miraculous Lens"
Chapter One, Versus One through Six
1. In the Beginning, God created the heavens, and the Aircraft Carrier, and the seas upon which to float it; and yet there was complete Darkness upon the face of the earth. And, as we traveled, there came to us, as a voice out of the darkness, an angel of the Lord, saying, "On centerline, on Glideslope, three quarters of a mile, call the ball." I reflected upon these words, for I was still yet engulfed in complete darkness. With deep feeling and doubt overwhelming my countenance, I glanceth towards my companion at my right hand and saith "What seeth thou, trusted friend?", and there was a great silence. Gazing in a searching manner and seeing naught, I raised my voice saying, "Clara......."
2. And God spoke to me, and He said, "You're low....power". As the Lord saith, so shall it be, and I added power; and lo, the ball riseth up onto the bottom of the mirror. But it was a tainted red glow, and surely indicateth Satan's own influence. And God spoke to me again saying, "Power...Power. Power!!!!....fly the ball." And lo , the ball riseth up and off the top of the lens, and the great darkness was upon me.
3. And the voice of the Angel came to me again, saying, "When comfortable, twelve hundred feet, turn downwind." Whereupon I wandered in the darkness, without direction, for surely the ships radar was beset by demons, and there was great confusion cast upon CATCC, and there was a great silence in which there was no comfort to be found. Even my tacan needle spinneth......and lo, there was chaos; my trusted companion weepeth quietly unto himself and from close behind I heard weeping and gnashing of teeth of our flock. There was a great turmoil within my cockpit for a multitude of serpents had crept therein.
4. And though we wandered, as if by Providence I found myself within that Holy Corridor, and at twelve hundred feet, among my brethren seeking refuge; and the voice of the Angel of the Lord came to me again, asking of me my needles, and I raised my voice saying, "Up and centered", and the voice answered, "Roger, fly your needles...." I reflected upon these words, and I raised my voice in prayer, for though my gyro indicateth it not so, surely my aircraft hath been turned upside down. Verily, as Beelzebub surely wrestled with me, a voice, that of my trusted companion, saith to me calmly, "Friend.....fly thy needles, and find comfort in the Lord." And lo, with deep trembling in my heart, I did, and He guideth me to centered glideslope and centerline, though I know not how it came to be.
5. And out of the great darkness, God spoke to me again saying, "Roger ball" for now I had faith. And though the ball began to rise at the in close position, my right hand was full of the Spirit, and it squeeketh off power and as in a great miracle my plane stoppeth upon the flight deck, for it hath caught the four wire which God in his infinite wisdom hath placed thirty feet further down the flight deck than the three wire.
6. And thus bathed in a golden radiance from above, our pilgrimage was at an end, and my spirit was truly reborn. And as I basked in the rapture, God spoketh to me one final time, and He saith, "Lights out on deck...
"Bear"
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Subject: How to simulate life in the Navy
1. Buy a dumpster, paint it gray and live in it for 6 months straight.
2. Run all of the piping and wires inside your house on the outside of the walls.
3. Pump 10 inches of nasty, crappy water into your basement, then pump it out, clean up, and paint the basement "deck gray."
4. Every couple of weeks, dress up in your best clothes and go the scummiest part of town, find the most run down, trashy bar you can, pay $10 per beer until you're hammered, then walk home in the freezing cold.
5. Perform a weekly disassembly and inspection of your lawnmower.
6. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays turn your water temperature up to 200 degrees, then on Tuesday and Thursday turn it down to 10 degrees. On Saturdays, and Sundays declare to your entire family that they used too much water during the week, so all showering is secured.
7. Raise your bed to within 6 inches of the ceiling.
8. Have your next door neighbor come over each day at 5am, and blow a whistle so loud that Helen Keller could hear it and shout "Reveille, Reveille, all hands heave out and trice up".
9. Have your mother-in-law write down everything she's going to do the following day, then have her make you stand in the back yard at 6am and read it to you.
10. Eat the raunchiest Mexican food you can find for three days straight, then lock yourself out of the bathroom for 12 hours, and hang a sign on the door that reads "Secured-contact OA division at X-3053."
11. Submit a request form to your father-in-law, asking if it's ok for you to leave your house before 3pm.
12. Invite 200 of your not-so-closest friends to come over, then board up all the windows and doors to your house for 6 months. After the 6 months is up, take down the boards, wave at your friends and family through the front window of your home...you can't leave until the next day you have duty.
13. Shower with above-mentioned friends.
14. Make your family qualify to operate all the appliances in your home (i.e. Dishwasher operator, blender technician, etc.).
15. Walk around your car for 4 hours checking the tire pressure every 15 minutes.
16. Sit in your car and let it run for 4 hours before going anywhere. This is to ensure your engine is properly "lighted off."
17. Empty all the garbage bins in your house, and sweep your driveway 3 times a day, whether they need it or not. (Now sweepers, start your brooms, clean sweep down fore and aft, empty all shitcans over the fantail)
18. Repaint your entire house once a month.
19. Cook all of your food blindfolded, groping for any spice and seasoning you can get your hands on.
20.Use eighteen scoops of budget coffee grounds per pot, and allow each pot to sit 5 hours before drinking.
21. Have your neighbor collect all your mail for a month, read your magazines, and randomly lose every 5th item.
22. Spend $20,000 on a satellite system for your TV, but only watch CNN and the Weather Channel.
23. Avoid watching TV with the exception of movies which are played in the middle of the night. Have the family vote on which movie to watch and then show a different one.
24. Have your 5-year-old cousin give you a haircut with goat shears.
25. Sew back pockets to the front of your pants.
26. Spend 2 weeks in the red-light districts of Europe, and call it "world travel."
27. Attempt to spend 5 years working at McDonalds, and NOT get promoted.
28. Ensure that any promotions you do get are from stepping on the dead bodies of your co-workers.
29. Needle gun the aluminum siding on your house after your neighbors have gone to bed.
30. When your children are in bed, run into their room with a megaphone,and shout at the top of your lungs that your home is under attack, and order them to man their battle stations. ("General quarters, general quarters, all hands man your battle stations")
31. Make your family menu a week ahead of time and do so without checking the pantry and refrigerator.
32. Post a menu on the refrigerator door informing your family that you are having steak for dinner. Then make them wait in line for at least an hour, when they finally get to the kitchen, tell them that you are out of steak, but you have dried ham or hot dogs. Repeat daily until they don't pay attention to the menu any more so they just ask for hot dogs.
33.When baking a cake, prop up one side of the pan while it is in the oven. Spread icing on real thick to level it off.
34. In the middle of January, place a podium at the end of your driveway. Have you family stand watches at the podium, rotating at 4-hour intervals.
35. Lock yourself and your family in your house for 6 weeks. Then tell them that at the end of the 6th week you're going to take them to Disneyland for "weekend liberty." When the end of the 6th week rolls around, inform them that Disneyland has been canceled due to the fact that they need to get ready for Engineering-certification, and that it will be another week before they can leave the house.
36. In your grim, gray dumpster (refer to #1), with 200 of your not-so-closest friend (cite para. 12) regardless of gender, suffer through PMS!
37. Sleep on the shelf in your closet. Replace the closet door with a curtain. Have you wife whip open the curtain about 3 hours after you go to sleep. She should then shine a flashlight in your eyes and mumble "Sorry, wrong rack."
38. Renovate your bathroom. Build a wall across the middle of your bathtub, move the shower head to chest level. When you take showers, make sure you shut off the water while you soap down.
39. When there is a thunderstorm in your area, find a wobbly rocking chair and rock as hard as you can until you become nauseous. have a supply of stale crackers in your shirt pocket.
40. Put lube oil in your humidifier and set it on high.
41. For ex-engineering types: leave the lawn mower running in your living room eight hours a day.
42. Have the paperboy give you a haircut.
43.Once a week, blow compressed air up your chimney, making sure the wind carries the soot onto your neighbors house. Ignore his complaints.
44. Every other month buy green or red marine primer and put it in a paint sprayer. Spray it over the roof of your house onto your neighbors car. Ignore his complaints.
45. Lock wire the lug nuts on your car.
46. Buy a trash compactor, but use it only once a week. Store the garbage on the other side of your bathtub.
47. Get up every night around midnight and have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on stale bread.
48. Set your alarm clock to go off at random during the night, jump up and get dressed as fast as you can making sure you button up the top button on your shirt, stuff you pants into your socks. Run out into the backyard and uncoil the garden hose.
49. Once a month, take every major appliance apart and put them back together again.
50. Install a fluorescent lamp under the coffee table and then get under it and read books.
51. Raise the thresholds and lower the top sills of your front and back doors so that you either trip or bang your head every time you pass through one of them.
52. Every so often, throw the cat in the pool and shout "Man overboard, starboard side" Then run into the house and sweep all the pots and dishes off the counter. Yell at the wife and kids for not having the kitchen "stowed for sea."
53. Put on the headphones from your stereo set, but don't plug them in. Hang a paper cup around your neck with string. Go stand in front of your stove. Say ... to no one in particular "Stove manned and ready" Stand there for three or four hours. And say again to no one in particular "stove secured." Roll up your headphones and paper cup and place them in a box
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Sea Provisions
LITTLE KNOWN NAVAL HISTORY:
The U.S.S. Constitution (Old Ironsides), as a combat vessel carried 48,600 gallons of fresh water for her crew of 475 officers and men. This was sufficient to last six months of sustained operations at sea. She carried no evaporators (fresh water distillers). However, let it be noted that according to her log, "On July 27, 1798, the U.S.S. Constitution sailed from Boston with a full complement of 475 officers and men, 48,600 gallons of fresh water, 7,400 cannon shot, 11,600 pounds of black powder and 79,400 gallons of rum."
Her mission: "To destroy and harass English shipping."
Making Jamaica on 6 October, she took on 826 pounds of flour and 68,300 gallons of rum. Then she headed for the Azores, arriving there 12 November. She provisioned with 550 pounds of beef and 64,300 gallons of Portuguese wine. On 18 November, she set sail for England.
In the ensuing days she defeated five British men-of-war and captured and scuttled 12 English merchantmen, salvaging only the rum aboard each.
By 26 January, her powder and shot were exhausted. Nevertheless, and though unarmed, she made a night raid up the Firth of Clyde in Scotland. Her landing party captured a whiskey distillery and transferred 40,000 gallons of single malt Scotch aboard by dawn.
Then she headed home.
The U.S.S. Constitution arrived in Boston on 20 February 1799, with no cannon shot, no food, no powder, NO rum, NO wine, NO whiskey and 38,600 gallons of stagnant water.
GO NAVY!
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The Seabag
There was a time when everything you owned had to fit in your seabag. Remember those nasty rascals? Fully packed, one of the suckers weighed more than the poor devil hauling it. The damn things weighed a ton and some idiot with an off-center sense of humor sewed a carry handle on it to help you haul it. Hell, you could bolt a handle on a Greyhound bus but it wouldn't make the damn thing portable.
The Army, Marines and Air Force got footlockers and we got a big ole' canvas bag. After you warped your spine jackassing the goofy thing through a bus or train station, sat on it waiting for connecting transportation and made folks mad because it was too dam big to fit in any overhead rack on any bus, train and airplane ever made, the contents looked like hell. All your gear appeared to have come from bums who slept on park benches.
Traveling with a seabag was something left over from the "Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum" sailing ship days. Sailors used to sleep in hammocks. So you stowed your issue in a big canvas bag and lashed your hammock to it, hoisted it on your shoulder and in effect moved your entire home and complete inventory of earthly possessions from ship to ship. I wouldn't say you traveled light because with one strap it was a one-shoulder load that could torque your skeletal frame and bust your ankles. It was like hauling a dead linebacker.
They wasted a lot of time in boot camp telling you how to pack one of the suckers. There was an officially sanctioned method of organization that you forgot after ten minutes on the other side of the gate at Great Lakes or San Diego. You got rid of a lot of issue gear when you went to the SHIP. Did you ever know a tin-can sailor who had a raincoat? A flat hat? One of those nut hugger knit swimsuits? How bout those roll your own neckerchiefs. The ones the girls in a good Naval tailor shop would cut down and sew into a 'greasy snake' for two bucks? Within six months, every fleet sailor was down to one set of dress blues, port and starboard undress blues and whites, a couple of whitehats, boots, shoes, assorted skivvies, a peacoat and three sets of bleeched out dungarees. The rest of your original issue was either in the pea coat locker, lucky bag or had been reduced to wipe down rags in the engineroom. Underway ships were not ships that allowed vast accumulation of private gear. Hobos who lived in discarded refrigerator crates could amass greater loads of pack rat crap than fleet sailors. The confines of a canvas back rack, side locker and a couple of bunk bags did not allow one to live a Donald Trump existence. Space and the going pay scale combined to make us envy the lifestyle of a mud hut Ethiopian.
We were the global equivalents of nomadic Monguls without ponies to haul our stuff. And after the rigid routine of boot camp we learned the skill of random compression packing. Known by mother's world wide as 'cramming'. It is amazing what you can jam into a space no bigger than a breadbox if you pull a watch cap over a boot and push it in with your foot. Of course it looks kind of weird when you pull it out but they never hold fashion shows at sea and wrinkles added character to a salty appearance. There was a four-hundred mile gap between the images on recruiting posters and the actual appearance of sailors at sea. It was not without justifiable reason that we were called the tin-can Navy.
We operated on the premise that if 'Cleanliness was next to Godliness', we must be next to the other end of that spectrum. We looked like our clothing had been pressed with a waffle iron and packed by a bulldozer. But what in the hell did they expect from a bunch of jerks that lived in the crews hole of a 2250 Sumner Class can. After a while you got used to it. You got used to everything you owned picking up and retaining that distinctive aroma. You got used to old ladies on busses taking a couple of wrinkled nose sniffs of your peacoat then getting up and finding another seat.
Do they still issue seabags? Can you still make five bucks sitting up half the night drawing a ships picture on the side of one of the damn things with black and white marking pens that drive old master-at-arms into a 'rig for heart attack' frenzy? Make their faces red. The veins on their neck bulge out. And yell,"Jeezus H. Christ! What in god's name is that all over your seabag?"
"Artwork, Chief... It's like the work of Michelangelo... My ship... Great huh?"
"Looks like some gahdam comic book.."
Here was a man with cobras tattooed on his arms. A skull with a dagger through one eye and a ribbon reading 'DEATH BEFORE SHORE DUTY' on his shoulder. Crossed anchors with 'Subic Bay 1945' on the other shoulder. An eagle on his chest and a full blown Chinese dragon peeking out between the cheeks of his butt. If anyone was an authority on stuff that looked like a comic book, it had to be this E-8 sucker.
Sometimes I look at all the crap stacked in my garage, close my eyes and smile, remembering a time when everything I owned could be crammed into a canvas bag.
Maturity is hell. |
The Rules of Combat"
1. If the enemy is in range, so are you.
2. Incoming fire has the right of way.
3. Don't look conspicuous: it draws fire.
4. The easy way is always mined.
5. Try to look unimportant, they may be low on ammo.
6. Professionals are predictable, it's the amateurs that are dangerous.
7. The enemy invariably attacks on one of two occasions:
a. When you're ready for them.
b. When you're not ready for them.
8. Teamwork is essential; it gives the enemy someone else to shoot at.
9. If you can't remember, the claymore is pointed at you.
10. If your attack is going well, you have walked into an ambush.
11. Don't draw fire, it irritates the people around you.
12. The only thing more accurate than incoming enemy fire is incoming friendly fire.
13. When the pin is pulled, Mr. Grenade is not our friend.
14. If it's stupid but works, it isn't stupid.
15. When in doubt empty the magazine.
16. Never share a fox hole with anyone braver than you.
17. Anything you do can get you shot. Including doing nothing.
18. Make it too tough for the enemy to get in and you can't get out.
19. Mines are equal opportunity weapons.
20. A Purple Heart just proves that were you smart enough to think of a plan, stupid enough to try it, and lucky enough to survive.
21. Don't ever be the first, don't ever be the last and don't ever volunteer to do anything.
22. The quartermaster has only two sizes: too large and too small.
23. Five second fuses only last three seconds.
24. It is generally inadvisable to eject directly over the area you just bombed.
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While standing watch as the Squadron Duty Officer at VT-26, Beeville, TX, we used to look for anything to relieve the boredom. Occasionally a student would check in on base frequency after startup, then forget to switch and ask for a clearance from what they thought was Chase Clearance. One day we hit the mother lode, when our squadron CO forgot to switch his radio, and calls what he thinks is clearance while sitting in his T-2C Buckeye jet.
[distinctive voice of CO on radio]
CO: Clearance, XYZ, ready to copy
Me as SDO: Roger, XYZ, your cleared to Rome via Nome as filed, climb and maintain FL 650, execute the Hialuah 121 departure, intercept the 370 radial off of the Foobar tacan, contact departure 123.4
[long pause, CO wasn't really listening, thinks up excuse to ask clearance to repeat]
CO: Clearance, you were stepped on, say again.
SDO: Roger, you're cleared as filed via the Hyatuke 385 departure, beware of nesting raptors at the departure end, noise abatement in effect within 100 mile radius, request you climb to 5,000 feet by departure end of runway, departing aircraft reports TACAN anomaly on the 150 at 35, winds 160 at 100, you're cleared for hover taxi, takeoff spot 5.
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Comparison of Pilot traditions.
Navy:
On a carrier, the Naval Aviator looks over at the Catapult Officer ("Shooter") who gives the "run up engines" signal by rotating his finger above his head. The pilot pushes the throttle forward, checks all gauges and gives the Cat officer a brisk salute, continuing the Navy tradition of asking permission to leave the ship. Cat officer drops to one knee while swooping his arm forward and pointing down deck, granting that permission. The Navy pilot is immediately catapulted airborne.
Air Force:
We've all seen Air Force pilots at the air base look up just before taxi for takeoff and the ground crew waits until the pilot's thumb is sticking straight up. The crew chief then confirms that he sees the thumb, salutes, and the Air Force pilot then takes off. This time tested tradition is the last link in the Air Force safety net to confirm that the pilot does not have both thumbs up his ass on takeoff.
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Naval Aviator's Memories
During my first month of combat, I shot down six planes, took out a Comm Center and a Fuel Dump. This may have had a lot to do with my being taken out of combat training in San Diego and reassigned to the weather observation sqdn in Guam.
As we stood in formation at NAS Pensacola, our Flight Instructor said, "Alright ! All you damn dummies fall out." As the rest of the squad wandered away, I remained at attention. The Instructor walked over until he was eye-to-eye with me, and then just raised a single eyebrow. I smiled and said, "Sure was a lot of 'em, huh sir ?"
One day I somehow lost my sidearm, I had no idea how, but they made me pay for it anyway. They said I'd have to pay for anything I lost. At least then I understood the Naval tradition of the Captain going down with the ship.
When we were finally allowed to call home, it was a real treat to speak to the family again. I told my Mother that the only thing that really bothered me a lot was the Flight Instructor telling me that I was dumb, ugly and possibly the worst excuse for a pilot he'd ever seen. She said, "Why in Heaven's name would he say things like that. That's terrible !" I told her, "That's nothing, I'd hate to tell ya' what he said about you !"
A Navy wife inquired about an increase in their monthly allotment for living quarters, because rents near the Station where he was based were so high. She received the following letter back: "Class Q allotments are based upon the number of dependents, up to a maximum of three. If the birth of a child will mean your husband is entitled to more quarters allowance, please notify him to take the necessary action required."
While I'm not sure of the procedure now, when I was in the Navy every so often, you got umpteen shots whether you needed them or not. The carrier pilot in front of me as we passed thru the line asked for a drink of water after receiving what seemed to be at least a dozen different needles. The Corpsman asked if he was dizzy. "No, not at all." he replied. "I just wanna' see if I'm still water-tight."
Marksmanship rated very low on most Aviator's priority lists, and I guess it irritated the hell out of our Range Instructor, a Marine. A bunch of us were trying to qualify one afternoon, and of the six men firing, not one even hit the target from 100 yards. The Sergeant shouted, "Cease firing ! Cease firing ! Fix bayonets and charge ! It's your only chance."
This one is definitely true of most sailors!!
Back then the theory was that if Aviators were fed saltpeter it would reduce their sex drive. Wouldn't ya' know here it is over 30 years later and the damn stuff's just starting to work.
Some of those simulated tactical situations that they gave us were so easy though. One instructor said "You have two enemy craft on your tail closing at 400 knots. What's the very first thing you do ?" I mean, how simple can you get ? The obvious answer to anyone should be: "do 450 knots".
Because of the unusual duty hours at a Naval Air Station, you could pretty much find something to eat at almost any hour. At one Chow Hall the Chief in charge always used to post a sign: "SORRY, WE'RE OPEN !"
While I was never the best pilot the Navy had ever seen, I managed to be OK most of the time. You'd never know it though from listening to my Flight Instructor. He once told me, "Tell ya' what, Clexton, if they ever expand the list of the 'Seven Wonders of the World', I'm gonna' make sure that you're on there twice !
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Military Bearing
Author Unknown, but I think he had to be an Army NCO!
A tourist walked into a pet store and was looking at the animals on display. While he was there, a Command Sergeant Major (CSM) from the local airfield walked in and said to the shopkeeper, "I'll take a 6114 monkey, please." The man nodded, went to a cage at the side of the store and took out a monkey. He put a collar and leash on the animal and handed it the CSM saying, "That'll be $1,000." The CSM paid and left with the monkey.
Surprised, the tourist went to the shopkeeper and said, "That was a very expensive monkey. Most of them are only a few hundred dollars. Why did that one cost so much?" The shopkeeper answered, "Ah, that 6114 monkey, he can rig aircraft flight controls, score 300 on the Army APFT, set up a perimeter defense and perform the duties of any warrant officer with no back talk or complaints. It's well worth the money."
The tourist spotted a monkey in another cage. "That one's even more expensive--$10,000! What does it do?"
"Oh, that one is a "Maintenance Supervisor" monkey; it can instruct at all levels of maintenance, supervise maintenance at the unit, intermediate, and Depot level, and even do most of the paperwork. A very useful monkey indeed," replied the shopkeeper.
The tourist looked around a little longer and found a third monkey in a cage. The price tag read, "$50,000". The shocked tourist exclaimed, "That one costs more than all the others put together! What in the world could it do?"
"Well, I've never actually seen him do anything but drink beer and play with his -- well you know. But his papers say he's a Pilot.
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Military Common Sense
A lot of life's problems can be explained by the military and its application of common sense.
1. "Sometimes I think war is God's way of teaching us geography." - Paul Rodriguez
2. "A slipping gear could let your M203 grenade launcher fire when you least expect it. That would make you quite unpopular in what's left of your unit" - Army's magazine of preventive maintenance.
3. "Aim towards the Enemy" - Instruction printed on US Rocket Launcher
4. When the pin is pulled, Mr. Grenade is not our friend.
5. Cluster bombing from B-52s is very, very accurate. The bombs always hit the ground.
6. If the enemy is in range, so are you.
7. It is generally inadvisable to eject directly over the area you just bombed.
8. Whoever said the pen is mightier than the sword obviously never encountered automatic weapons.
9. Try to look unimportant; they may be low on ammo.
10. You, you, and you . . . Panic. The rest of you, come with me.
11. Tracers work both ways.
12. Five-second fuses only last three seconds.
13. Don't ever be the first, don't ever be the last, and don't ever volunteer to do anything.
14. Bravery is being the only one who knows you're afraid.
15. If your attack is going too well, you have walked into an ambush.
16. No combat ready unit has ever passed inspection.
17. Any ship can be a minesweeper . . . once.
18. Never tell the Platoon Sergeant you have nothing to do.
19. Don't draw fire; it irritates the people around you.
20. Mines are equal opportunity weapons.
21. If you find yourself in a fair fight, you didn't plan your mission properly.
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Difference between Men and Women
How to get to Heaven.
A minister dies and is waiting in line at the Pearly Gates. Ahead of him is a guy who's dressed in sunglasses, a loud shirt, leather jacket and jeans. Saint Peter says to this guy, "Who are you, so that I may know whether or not to admit you to the Kingdom of Heaven?"
The guy replies, "I'm Joey Shasta, retired Delta pilot from Atlanta. Saint Peter consults his list and says to the pilot. Take this silken robe and golden staff and enter the Kingdom." The pilot goes into Heaven with his robe and staff.
Next it's the minister's turn. He stands erect and booms out, "I am Joseph Snow, pastor of Saint Mary's in Pasadena for the last 43 years."
Saint Peter consults his list and tells the minister, "Take this cotton robe and wooden staff and enter the Kingdom."
"Just a minute." says the minister. "That man was a pilot and he gets a silken robe and golden staff. How can this be?"
"Up here we work by results," says Saint Peter. "While you preached, people slept; while he flew, people prayed." |
From China Lake:
Capt. Grell's official goldfish transport. It's bowl was fitted with a half-turn three point locking base, and it fastened to the nose. During those extremely hot days, the duty officer was required to get the fish up into cooler air. The bowl was located on the nose so the pilot could see if the water level was getting too low.
No Kidding? Gary Verver says its so. |
Flight Squawks
(for every gripe, there is a creative sign off)
P: Left inside main tire almost needs replacement.
S: Almost replaced left inside main tire.
P: Test flight OK, except autoland very rough.
S: Autoland not installed on this aircraft.
P: No. 2 propeller seeping prop fluid.
S: No. 2 propeller seepage normal. Nos. 1, 3 and 4 propellers lack normal seepage.
P: Something loose in cockpit.
S: Something tightened in cockpit.
P: Dead bugs on windshield.
S: Live bugs on backorder.
P: Autopilot in altitude-hold mode produces a 200-fpm descent.
S: Cannot reproduce problem on ground.
P: Evidence of leak on right main landing gear.
S: Evidence removed.
P: DME volume unbelievably loud.
S: DME volume set to more believable level.
P: Friction locks cause throttle levers to stick.
S: That's what they're there for!
P: IFF inoperative.
S: IFF always inoperative in OFF mode.
P: Suspected crack in windscreen.
S: Suspect you're right.
P: Number 3 engine missing.
S: Engine found on right wing after brief search.
P: Aircraft handles funny.
S: Aircraft warned to straighten up, fly right, and be serious.
P: Target radar hums.
S: Reprogrammed target radar with words.
P: Mouse in cockpit.
S: Cat installed
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| The TA-4J Skyhawk in a RI syllabus Solo Cross Country
I heard this tale third hand and can only relate what I was told. I believe it to be as true any TINS story can be - taking place sometime before 1976. I was flying the TA-4J as an advanced jet instructor 1976-78 at Kingsville - VT-22.
Once through the IUT (Instructor under training) I was determined to head home on a cross country to Hill AFB (HIF) Utah. I had a deal with the ops folks at Hill, where I kept an old family car (Buick) out in the lot and spare A4 parts, wheels, starter dog, CSD link, fuses etc in my own locker in base ops.
I had my XCtry (cross country) Student plan and file a DD175 to Hill AFB with a fuel stop enroute at Williams AFB (CHD ). Hill and Williams didnt have PPR (Prior Permission Required) restrictions and I was very familiar with their ops, having flown in and out recently in a gun squadron A-4M. So I submitted the X-Ctry request to Wing and prepared to spend the weekend home at HILL, skiing playing hockey etc. Surprise surprise, the X-Ctry request came back disapproved! I followed up by going across the street to TRAWing II and the LTCDR who disapproved the request. I asked why, as Williams wasnt PPR and all he could say was that since he had arrived at NQI (Kingsville) Williams had been on the no go list. I wanted to see the No Go list in writing, as a order, something, but he couldnt find anything written. So I had my student re-file NQI LUF HIF (Kingsville-Luke-Hill) and went to Williams any way (Luke was always PPR- and you had to have 3 stars to get a PPR number out of em).
The trip out to Williams was boringly uneventful until we got to the Williams transit line. Remember those old retired guys that always ran the AFB transit line in their white coveralls? Well when we taxied up in our white and yellow VT-22 TA-4J to the transit line they ALL came out of the line shack with big shiteating grins and stood around while we got pinned and shut down. They couldnt wait: Hey Navy, its been a long time no see. Welcome back, You guys arent going to do any more exciting air shows are you ? should we call the fire trucks??? and I replied, No, and what do mean fire trucks ? The following is the story they told me. And every time I went into CHD, which was often, I heard this story all over again.
The student in question is long gone but his solo cross county to join a weapons det in Yuma AZ, with a fuel stop at Willy (CHD) AFB lives on. It seems the squadrons effort to make their pilot quota led to some marginal students to continue flying.
Our Student starts the weekend with a Friday night solo bounce in the pattern where he so scared the RDO (runway duty officer) (remember the RDO log book with all the zany entries?) that he ordered him to land. The RDO calls the Squadron SDO and says hes going to give the student a down. The intrepid SDO must have been a ops weenie, as he was more concerned about the pilot completion rate than the fact this Student couldnt fly. The SDO talks the RDO out of giving the Student a down and to wait until he can talk to the Ops Officer tomorrow.
Unknown to these two instructors, the intrepid Student was on the next days schedule with an early early go on his RI syllabus solo Cross country to Yuma to join a weapons det. The syllabus solo cross county required a stop over and his was Williams AFB. Before he leaves, Maintience Control loads a center line tank-blivit with parts for the weapons det., and a mechanic to install the parts.
Refreshing your memory of Williams AFB way back in the 70s; it was a training command base, 3 long runways and a million white T-37 and T-38 swanning about. Three long runways, 30L for the T-37 aircraft, 30C for transit and IFR aircraft and 30R for T-38 pattern. Everything at Williams is flat as a pancake-baked hard hot sand.
Back to the story.
The student lets down on approach control and is passed off for a GCA to runway 30C. He slow to make corrections and follow GCA guidance, as he starts off high and well to the left of course. GCA gives constant calls, B204 you are well left of course turn further right to 315, well above glide slope. This goes on all the way down the chute with the student making ineffective corrections. GCA calls Bravo 204 you are cleared to land on 30C, if runway not in sight go around. Our SNA is still lined up on runway 30L and as soon as GCA un-keys his mike, the student asks GCA if he can land on 30L? GCA replies, no, you are cleared to land on 30C
... making a last ditch, huge, correction to land 30C he touches down briefly on 30C going north. Skidding off 30C all the way over to 30R leaving a huge pall of dust and sand behind him. On 30R (he still hasnt brought the power back) our student tromps in full left rudder, where upon the TA-4J skids back over to 30C and off on the other side toward 30L. The dust ball is getting bigger and now hes remembered to pull the power off, and with full right rudder he swerves back on to 30C and stops at the end of the center runway, turning left and holding short of 30L. He didnt hit a thing and the tires stayed on the aircraft. Meanwhile, the tower has hit the crash alarm, the trucks roll and they all lose sight of the A4 in the dust ball. The T-38s and T-37 are all bingoed out of the pattern. Amid the confusion, our student asks Twr for clearance to cross 30L, and a distracted tower operator , still looking for the crash site in the dust ball and not realizing who is who : clears him to cross and switch up ground and not to call GND, just follow the follow me truck. B-204 crosses 30L and follows the truck to the transit line. As they are taxing, The tower and the fire trucks finally spot their quarry, and are in hot pursuit, along with several blue sedans with the flashing red cherry on top. One of which is the wing / base commander. Taxing to a halt in the transit line under the guidance of a couple of smirking white jump-suited transit line guys. The parade is big now with 5 fire trucks and half dozen blue sedans following the TA4. Transit line guys put the gear pins in and hook up the ladders as our student shuts down the engine and raises the canopy all the way. Where upon the wing/base commander (O-6) storms up the ladder addressing the pilot in the front seat with a rant, What kind of XXWXWY!!! Idiot are you, etc etc. and our SNA replies, cowed by the furiously angry colonel: sir Im just a student. The colonel angrily switches target to the flight suit in back seat: who is quick to respond:, Sir Im just a mechanic and this is my first ride in a plane. This revelation, stuns the colonel for a few seconds, and makes him even madder, when he goes off in a rant about XXWXY!!!! Navy pilots and their incompetent students. And who the hell let this clown out unsupervised??? Because he sure as hell aint flying it out here. He storms off and the transit guys are killing themselves laughing. The colonel calls up CNATRA (Admiral ___?) relates the incident and forbids any navy CNATRA aircraft ever again landing at his base.
This was the reason why our white TA-4J were banned from Williams AFB. Well, the colonel apparently was gone, transferred, as I used CHD all the time as a fuel stop on my training command cross-countries to HIF and no one ever complained. I just had to listen to this story every time I used the CHD transit line.
Denny West
One time A4 pilot / Boca Raton FL. |
Royal Australian Navy Space Craft
Back in the 1970s when the Royal Australian Navy operated A-4s from the carrier HMAS Melbourne, a couple of Skyhawks were launched one day on a routine recco mission to Mars. When the big grey war canoe ran into rapidly deteriorating weather conditions, an "Immediate Charlie" recall to all aircraft was issued. No problem. The Skyhawk drivers merely popped their speed brakes, did a "slingshot" maneuver around the moon, and descended back to trap aboard.
Photograph courtesy of the Australian Naval Aircraft Museum: Mark Clayton, Director; Windy Geale, Curator
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Royal Australian Navy - Submarine Aircraft Carrier - 1970
The Royal Australian Navy Skyhawk, being an all-purpose aircraft, was the subject of a 1970s experimental sea trial of an A-4 on board a Royal Australian Navy submarine. There was no objection from the aviators to operating the Skyhawk from the somewhat limited deck space of the submarine. A problem with the Skyhawk's turbine cavitating while underway submerged was overcome. The diesel catapult worked just fine. However, the experiment was abandoned when the submarine's XO objected to the jet blast burning the paintwork off the sail.
Photograph courtesy of the Australian Naval Aircraft Museum: Mark Clayton, Director;, Windy Geale, Curator
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A plea for help from a grounded Australian to his friend, BJ....
Hi Mate,
I am writing to you, because I need your help to get me bloody pilot's
license back. You keep telling me you got all the right contacts. Well now's your
chance to make something happen for me because, mate, I'm bloody desperate.
But first, I'd better tell you what happened during my last flight review with
the CAA Examiner.
On the phone, Ron (that's the CAA dickhead) seemed a reasonable sort of
bloke. He politely reminded me of the need to do a flight review every two years.
He even offered to drive out, have a look over my property and let me operate
from my own strip. Naturally I agreed to that.
Anyway, Ron turned up last Wednesday. First up, he said he was a bit
surprised to see the plane on a small strip outside my homestead, because the ALA
(Authorized Landing Area) is about a mile away. I explained that because this
strip was so close to the homestead, it was more convenient than the ALA, and
despite the power lines crossing about midway down the strip it's really not a
problem to land and take-off, because at the half-way point down the strip
you're usually still on the ground.
For some reason Ron seemed nervous. So, although I had done the pre-flight inspection
only four days earlier, I decided to do it all over again.
Because he was watching me carefully, I walked around the
plane three times instead of my usual two.
My effort was rewarded because the color finally returned to Ron's cheeks.
In fact, they went a bright red. In view of Ron's obviously better mood, I told
him I was going to combine the test flight with some farm work, as I had to
deliver three poddy calves from the home paddock to the main herd. After a bit
of a chase I finally caught the calves and threw them into the back of the
ol' Cessna 172. We climbed aboard, but Ron started getting' onto me about
weight and balance calculations and all that crap. Of course I knew that sort of
thing was a waste of time because, calves like to move around a bit,
particularly when they see themselves 500 feet off the ground! So, its bloody pointless
trying to secure them as you know. However, I did tell Ron that he shouldn't
worry as I always keep the trim wheel set on neutral to ensure we remain
pretty stable at all stages throughout the flight.
Anyway, I started the engine and cleverly minimized the warm-up time by
tramping hard on the brakes and gunning her to 2,500rpm. I then discovered that
Ron has very acute hearing, even though he was wearing a bloody headset. Through
all that noise he detected a metallic rattle and demanded I account for it.
Actually it began about a month ago and was caused by a screwdriver that fell
down a hole in the floor and lodged in the fuel selector mechanism. The
selector can't be moved now, but it doesn't matter because it's jammed on 'All
tanks', so I suppose that's Okay.
However, as Ron was obviously a real nit-picker, I blamed the noise on
vibration from a stainless steel thermos flask, which I keep in a beaut little
possie between the windshield and the magnetic compass. My explanation seemed to
relax Ron, because he slumped back in the seat and kept looking up at the
cockpit roof. I released the brakes to taxi out, but unfortunately the plane gave
a leap and spun to the right. "Hell" I thought, "not the starboard wheel
chock again". The bump jolted Ron back to full alertness. He looked wildly around
just in time to see a rock thrown by the prop wash disappear completely
through the windscreen of his brand new Commodore. "Now I'm really in trouble", I
thought.
While Ron was busy ranting about his car, I ignored his requirement that we
taxi to the ALA, and instead took off under the power lines. Ron didn't say a
word, at least not until the engine started coughing right at the lift off
point, then he bloody screamed his head off. "Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!"
"Now take it easy, Ron" I told him firmly. "That often happens on take-off
and there is a good reason for it." I explained patiently that I usually run
the plane on standard MOGAS, but one day I accidentally put in a gallon or two
of kerosene. To compensate for the low octane of the kerosene, I siphoned in
a few gallons off super MOGAS and shook the wings up and down a few times to
mix it up. Since then, the engine has been coughing a bit but in general it
works just fine, if you know how to coax it properly.
Anyway, at this stage Ron seemed to lose all interest in my flight test. He
pulled out some rosary beads, closed his eyes and became lost in prayer. (I
didn't think anyone was a Catholic these days). I selected some nice music on
the HF radio to help him relax.
Meanwhile, I climbed to my normal cruising altitude of 10,500 feet. I don't
normally put in a flight plan or get the weather because, as you know getting
Fax access out here is a bloody joke, and the bloody weather is always 8/8
blue anyway. But since I had that near miss with a Saab 340, I might have to
change me thinking on that. Anyhow, on leveling out I noticed some wild camels
heading into my improved pasture. I hate bloody camels, and always carry a
loaded .303 clipped inside the door of the Cessna just in case I see any of the
bastards.
We were too high to hit them, but as a matter of principle, I decided to have
a go through the open window. Mate, when I pulled the bloody rifle out, the
effect on Ron was absolutely electric. As I fired the first shot his neck
lengthened by about six inches and his eyes bulged like a rabbit with myxo. He
really looked as if he had been jabbed with an electric cattle prod on full
power. In fact, Ron's reaction was so distracting that I lost concentration for a
second and the next shot went straight through the port tyre. Ron was a bit
upset about the shooting (probably one of those animal lovers I guess) so
I decided not to tell him about our little problem with the tyre.
Shortly afterwards I located the main herd and decided to do my fighter pilot
trick.
Ron had gone back to praying when, in one smooth sequence, I pulled on full
flaps, cut the power and started a sideslip from 10,500 feet down to 500 feet
at 130 knots indicated (the last time I looked anyway) and the little needle
rushing up to the red area on me ASI. What a buzz, mate! About half way
through the descent I looked back in the cabin to see the calves gracefully
suspended in mid air and mooing like crazy. I was going to comment on this unusual
sight, but Ron looked a bit green and had rolled himself into the fetal
position and was screaming his head off. Mate, talk about being in a bloody
zoo. You should've been there, it was so bloody funny!
At about 500 feet I leveled out, but for some reason we continued sinking.
When we reached 50 feet I applied full power but nothin' happened; no noise no
nothin'. Then, luckily, I heard me instructor's voice in me head saying
"carby heat, carby heat". So I pulled carby heat on and that helped quite a lot,
with the engine finally regaining full power. Whew, that was really close, let
me tell you!
Then mate, you'll never guess what happened next! As luck would have it, at
that height we flew into a massive dust cloud caused by the cattle and
suddenly went I.F. bloody R, mate. BJ, you would've been bloody proud of me as I
didn't panic once, not once, but I did make a mental note to consider an
instrument rating as soon as me gyro is repaired (Something I've been meaning to do
for a while now).
Suddenly Ron's elongated neck and bulging eyes reappeared. His mouth opened
wide, very wide, but no sound emerged. "Take it easy," I told him. "we'll be
out of this in a minute." Sure enough, about a minute later we emerge; still
straight and level and still at 50 feet.
Admittedly I was surprised to notice that we were upside down, and I kept
thinking to myself, "I hope Ron didn't notice that I had forgotten to set the QNH
when we were taxing". This minor tribulation forced me to fly to a nearby
valley in which I had to do a half roll to get upright again.
By now the main herd had divided into two groups leaving a narrow strip
between them. "Ah!," I thought, "there's an omen. We'll land right there."
Knowing that the tyre problem demanded a slow approach, I flew a couple of steep
turns with full flap. Soon the stall warning horn was blaring so loud in me ear
that I cut its circuit breaker to shut it up, but by then I knew we were slow
enough anyway. I turned steeply onto a 75 foot final and put her down with a
real thud. Strangely enough, I had always thought you could only ground loop
in a tail dragger but, as usual, I was proved wrong again!
Halfway through our third loop, Ron at last recovered his sense of humor.
Talk about laugh. I've never seen the likes of it. He couldn't stop. We
finally rolled to a halt and I released the calves, who bolted out of the aircraft
like there was no tomorrow.
I then began picking clumps of dry grass. Between gut wrenching fits of
laughter, Ron asked what I was doing. I explained that we had to stuff the port
tyre with grass so we could fly back to the homestead. It was then that Ron
really lost the plot and started running away from the aircraft. Can you
believe it? The last time I saw him he was off into the distance, arms flailing in
the air and still shrieking with laughter. I later heard that he had been
confined to a psychiatric institution - poor bugger!
Anyhow, mate, that's enough about Ron. The problem is I just got a letter
from CASA withdrawing, as they put it, my privileges to fly; until I have
undergone a complete pilot training course again and undertaken another flight
proficiency test. Now I admit that I made a mistake in taxiing over the wheel
chock and not setting the QNH using strip elevation, but I can't see what else I
did that was so bloody bad that they have to withdraw me flamin' license. Can
you?
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