Selene
Copyright© 2022 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 23
Which of course, shattered me.
And that almost cost me my pilots license. I got a royal ass chewing for losing my calm demeanor in the cockpit. The lecture included a bunch of ‘what ifs’ ... including passengers ‘if you were flying for one of the airlines.’
I wasn’t planning to make flying a career ... I just wanted to fly my mother’s airplane.
“What if you were flying in an airshow?” He asked. “Would you crash into the spectators?”
And a whole bunch of other hypothetical situations ... those two were the ones that I recall.
He let me land and do a couple of ‘touch and goes.’
I was terrified he was going to flunk me, but he said, “Follow me along on the stick, I want to teach you something.”
I had a professional lesson in acrobatics. I learned things you CAN NOT do with a bomber.
“Now, you do it,” he said.
I did ... not up to standard ... but good enough for my Fokker. It is very hard to be precise in a replica Triplane. Precise would get you killed in 1917. Spontaneous works wonders ... expanding the box. When we had used up three thousand bucks worth of fuel, it was time to land.
He requested my logbook, signed off, took out a blank license and inscribed it.
I could aviate ... legally.
My turn...”have you ever wanted to fly a basic machine?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like a SPAD ... or a Neuport ... Great War aeroplanes.”
“I’m building Pup ... there’s a lot more to building a replica than I thought.”
“Follow me home. I insist.”
“Bud ... full thousand hour.”
I meant that I was hiring Bud to total overhaul my Sandy. I had a remanufactured Wright twin Cyclone ... the original 2100 hp she came with. And anything he could think of to fix. I loaded up in my ‘34 and he followed. I don’t know what make or model car ... but it was blue.
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