Chapter 3

Edward followed the hand signals from David to park the Corsair.

“Thank you, Helen, my girl. I hope this isn’t the only time we enjoy a little time together,” he smiled, patting the dashboard, and reluctantly shutting down the engine. Brent placed chocks against the wheels and then pushed the portable stairs to the rear of the right wing. Edward’s face was hurting from smiling so much as he opened the canopy.

He put several fingertips to his lips, in a kiss and touched the scripting, which was eloquently scrolled on the right upper panel, a tradition he developed after landing from any successful wartime mission with Helen.

The group gathered close to the wing while Edward climbed from the cockpit, down the steps, to the ground. “That was an unbelievable experience! Thank you, David; I’ll remember this day for a long time!” He remarked, vigorously shaking his hand.

“It was my pleasure, though you had me worried when you did that inverted flat spin. I’m sure you were going to crash.”

“I was a little worried for a moment too,” he admitted.

“Mr. Edward Martin, are you trying to make me a widow before my time? What on earth do you think you were doing up there besides scaring me half to death with a stupid ass stunt like that?”

“Uh oh, when Helen calls me Mister, I know I’m in trouble!” He joked with David as she approached.

“Relax, Helen, I had control of the plane ... most of the time,” he tried to reassure her as he removed his old headgear.

“Don’t you ever let me see you do that sort of stunt again!” Her half-hearted slap to his arm, kiss, and hug showed her decades of love for him.

“I won’t. I’ll do them when you’re not with me,” Edward countered, and she playfully slapped his shoulder, then helped him slip on his jacket.

Edward looked down the tarmac as the high-pitched jet engines announced the arrival of the two F-15s. Parked about 100 yards away, he heard the wind-down sound of the engines shutting off.

“It sure was different flying with those two,” he remarked of the F-15s.

“I think they were more impressed than you were,” David said, noticing the two pilots now walking in their direction.

Nick and Linda approached, wearing their khaki-green flying suits and carrying their helmets. Several paces in front of Edward, they halted to attention, giving him a proper and respectful salute. He raised his right arm, fingertips at his eyebrow.

“Thank you, Captains,” Edward smiled, returning their salute. Handshakes were exchanged as Nick and Linda was formally introduced. The group stood and chatted for a moment about Edward’s flying, with Linda and Nick taking a closer inspection of his Corsair.

Nick and Linda took a quick look inside the cockpit of the Corsair, remarking how cramped yet simple it looked. “Our planes can basically fly themselves,” Linda mentioned.

“Maybe some day we can arrange for you to take a spin in one of our birds,” Nick suggested.

“Now that would be an experience!” He grinned.

“Commander Martin, we have prepared a luncheon in your honor for everyone. We’d like to do a documentary about you and your Corsair during the war,” David asked.

“I wouldn’t want to bore you with details about myself or my war stories,” he remarked.

“I think it’s important for the public to realize what you and your planes endured most every day for several years during the war,” David countered.

“Would you please, Commander? Hearing what you experienced will help me to appreciate even more what my granddad has told me about his time in the war,” Linda asked.

“Most people don’t want to hear war stories from an old veteran. I will if it helps to create more interest in the heritage and preservation of fighter planes. I owe it to those who didn’t make it back from the war.”

David had Edward’s Corsair towed from the hot afternoon sun into the cooling interior of the hanger. He stationed it to serve as a backdrop for Edward’s recollections of the war.

Brent set up the video camera to make sure the Corsair was in full view behind Edward. David had prepared several questions to ask him.

Sandwiches and cold drinks were enjoyed, along with Edward prompting Nick and Linda about their F-15s. David, Brent, Nick, and Linda looked through Edwards’s photo albums of his war days.

“Sadly, a lot of the brave, young men you see in those pictures didn’t make it home,” he lamented of the smiling faces.

“There’s my Grandpa Carmichael!” Linda remarked loudly, pointing to him standing behind Edward.