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| Iraq |
| C-130 Pilots Like To Have Fun, Too |
| 2006-09-12 |
| From the email inbox... There I was at six thousand feet over central Iraq, two hundred eighty knots and we're dropping faster than Paris Hilton's panties. It's a typical September evening in the Persian Gulf; hotter than a rectal thermometer and I'm sweating like a priest at a Cub Scout meeting.. But that's neither here nor there. The night is moonless over Baghdad tonight, and blacker than a Steven King novel. But it's 2004, folks, and I'm sporting the latest in night-combat technology. Namely, hand-me-down night vision goggles (NVGs) thrown out by the fighter boys. Additionally, my 1962 Lockheed C-130E Hercules is equipped with an obsolete, yet, semi-effective missile warning system (MWS). The MWS conveniently makes a nice soothing tone in your headset just before the missile explodes into your airplane. Who says you can't polish a turd? At any rate, the NVGs are illuminating Baghdad International Airport like the Las Vegas Strip during a Mike Tyson fight. These NVGs are the cat's ass. But I've digressed. The preferred method of approach tonight is the random shallow. This tactical maneuver allows the pilot to ingress the landing zone in an unpredictable manner, thus exploiting the supposedly secured perimeter of the airfield in an attempt to avoid enemy surface-to-air-missiles and small arms fire. Personally, I wouldn't bet my pink ass on that theory but the approach is fun as hell and that's the real reason we fly it. We get a visual on the runway at three miles out, drop down to one thousand feet above the ground, still maintaining two hundred eighty knots. Now the fun starts. It's pilot appreciation time as I descend the mighty Herk to six hundred feet and smoothly, yet very deliberately, yank into a sixty degree left bank, turning the aircraft ninety degrees offset from runway heading. As soon as we roll out of the turn, I reverse turn to the right a full two hundred seventy degrees in order to roll out aligned with the runway. Some aeronautical genius coined this maneuver the " Ninety/ Two-Seventy." Chopping the power during the turn, I pull back on the yoke just to the point my nether regions start to sag, bleeding off energy in order to configure the pig for landing. "Flaps Fifty!, Landing Gear Down!, Before Landing Checklist!" I look over at the copilot and he's shaking like a cat shitting on a sheet of ice. Looking further back at the navigator, and even through the NVGs, I can clearly see the wet spot spreading around his crotch. Finally, I glance at my steely-eyed flight engineer. His eyebrows rise in unison as a grin forms on his face. I can tell he's thinking the same thing I am. "Where do we find such fine young men?" "Flaps One Hundred!" I bark at the shaking cat. Now it's all aimpoint and airspeed. Aviation 101, with the exception there's no lights, I'm on NVGs, it's Baghdad, and now tracers are starting to crisscross the black sky. Naturally, and not at all surprisingly, I grease the Goodyear's on brick-one of runway 33 left, bring the throttles to ground idle and then force the props to full reverse pitch. Tonight, the sound of freedom is my four Hamilton Standard propellers chewing through the thick, putrid, Baghdad air. The huge, one hundred thirty thousand pound, lumbering whisper pig comes to a lurching stop in less than two thousand feet. Let's see a Viper do that! We exit the runway to a welcoming committee of government issued Army grunts. It's time to download their beans and bullets and letters from their sweethearts, look for war booty, and of course, urinate on Saddam's home. Walking down the crew entry steps with my lowest-bidder, Beretta 92F, 9 millimeter strapped smartly to my side, I look around and thank God, not Allah, I'm an American and I'm on the winning team. Then I thank God I'm not in the Army. Knowing once again I've cheated death, I ask myself, "What in the hell am I doing in this mess?" Is it Duty, Honor, and Country? You bet your ass. Or could it possibly be for the glory, the swag, and not to mention, chicks dig the Air Medal. There's probably some truth there too. But now is not the time to derive the complexities of the superior, cerebral properties of the human portion of the aviator-man-machine model. It is however, time to get out of this shit-hole . "Hey copilot clean yourself up! And how's 'bout the 'Before Starting Engines Checklist." God, I love this job! And we love you for doing it Major! |
| Posted by:Besoeker |
| #18 I look around and thank God, not Allah, I'm an American and I'm on the winning team. Then I thank God I'm not in the Army. Don't know whether to pass that to my USAF ret. spouse or my Army colleagues LOL |
| Posted by: lotp 2006-09-12 21:48 |
| #17 Jeez, I really needed this story today. And the comments, too. Really made my day. "Shaking like a cat...." Perfect! |
| Posted by: Whiskey Mike 2006-09-12 21:46 |
| #16 353rd took me out of Zambo Dec 2001, night combat take off. 200+kts at under 100 ft. Muzzie fireworks in the hills, it was a quiet a show. |
| Posted by: 49 Pan 2006-09-12 21:44 |
| #15 I flew quite a few times in C-130s, when I was in Panama, in Vietnam, in England, and in the States. Combat take-offs were a gut-wrencher. Landed on San Andros Island (owned by Colombia, about 200 miles east of Costa Rica) once to drop off some parts for another C-130 that had made an emergency landing there. The runway is only 2800 feet, and runs uphill/downhill about 7 degrees. I don't think I ever saw the ground from the left window... |
| Posted by: Old Patriot 2006-09-12 21:10 |
| #14 Hey AK Paul, you do know what that ole 747 has a cockpit hump right? So the pilot can sit on his wallet. |
| Posted by: Besoeker 2006-09-12 17:31 |
| #13 Hahahahahah! |
| Posted by: 6 2006-09-12 17:30 |
| #12 OK, folks, here is a "There I was" aviation story. Actually a flying magazine cartoon: Picture this: DeHavilland Beaver on skis, flying through the snowy mountains in winter. Pilot up front, passenger in right seat, both in winter coats with fur ruffs on the hoods. Pilot sez to passenger: And there I was, Captain on a 747 on a nonstop coast-to-coast flight. Plane on autopilot, feet up on the panel, stu in my lap, drink in my hand, and into the cockpit walks the regional director of the FAA. |
| Posted by: Alaska Paul 2006-09-12 16:35 |
| #11 Gotta love 130 drivers. Of all the AF jockeys these guys are great. Yeah. I get to see them showing off every year at a nearby airshow hosted by the RIANG (143 Airlift Squadron at Quonset Point). They were the first to fly the C-130H and J models in combat ops, and they're damn proud to let us know it. I just love to watch those guys showing off for the home crowd. |
| Posted by: xbalanke 2006-09-12 16:20 |
| #10 Gotta love 130 drivers. Of all the AF jockeys these guys are great. Wonderful tale. |
| Posted by: 49 Pan 2006-09-12 15:24 |
| #9 "YEEEEEEE-HAH!" |
| Posted by: mojo 2006-09-12 15:09 |
| #8 shaking like a cat shitting on a sheet of ice That's a keeper. This reminds me very little of being at Moffett Field's 50th anniversary air show. As one of the biggest sub-chasing bases on the Pacific west coast, they sent up a P-3 Orion to perform aerobatic maneuvers. Kind of like watching a rhino go through some disco moves. |
| Posted by: Zenster 2006-09-12 14:43 |
| #7 Ditto #6, especially the extremely modest "Naturally, and not at all surprisingly, I grease the Goodyear's on brick-one of runway 33 left..." comment. but God love those guys that do this kind of thing for us (former) ground pounders. And they get paid for that! |
| Posted by: USN, ret. 2006-09-12 14:42 |
| #6 But now is not the time to derive the complexities of the superior, cerebral properties of the human portion of the aviator-man-machine model. Oh yeah...this guy has GOT to be USAF. Mike |
| Posted by: Mike Kozlowski 2006-09-12 14:33 |
| #5 For all who are interested, the airforce equivalent to Bill Mauldin's WWII comic "Willie & Joe", was Bob Stevens' "There I Was..."(flat on my back). Except Stevens stayed in the comic game beyond WWII, into Korea and Vietnam. His two collections, "There I was..." and "More there I was...", not only contain his comics, but also aircraft spotter profiles and war songs from the period. Definitely a must have for air force fans. This C-130 pilot story sounds a LOT like many of the stories from 'the good old days'. |
| Posted by: Anonymoose 2006-09-12 14:00 |
| #4 Italian focaccia pugliese, not so bad. Italian pistols in 9mm....well, thats another uh-story. |
| Posted by: Besoeker 2006-09-12 13:36 |
| #3 I just love it when somebody likes their work, :) |
| Posted by: djohn66 2006-09-12 13:32 |
| #2 That's a great story! Thanks Besoeker, for finding it. This part made me chuckle, being a 1911-A1 man: Walking down the crew entry steps with my lowest-bidder, Beretta 92F, 9 millimeter strapped smartly to my side, I look around and thank God, not Allah, I'm an American and I'm on the winning team. Then I thank God I'm not in the Army. LOL! |
| Posted by: Alaska Paul 2006-09-12 13:32 |
| #1 We need a film of that 90/270. We pass on the copilots wet spot. |
| Posted by: wxjames 2006-09-12 13:11 |