Chapter 13

We kept it up ... not just talking about airplanes ... but a multitude of likes and dislikes. The beginning of an unusual bond. A bond between a 23 year old ... still a kid ... and a mid thirties Reserve pilot/mid level industrial complex manager. Waiting ... he ... for his C-130 being flown by a 23 year old pilot of unknown skills ... and me ... waiting for my sister ... who was flying a C-130 with enough problems that it was heading for a major repair/salvage facility. The odd couple ... tied by a girl. Common worries.

We were out of AILF (aircraft I'd like to fly) ... having run the gamut from WWI fighters all the way through select Russian aircraft when he surprised me. A subject I'd rather not touch ... Science Fiction.

"If I could travel back in time..." He looked at me, "No, seriously ... if I could drop back and had gold, I'd buy three planes ... a Howard, a 195 Cessna and ME 262."

"Why the Howard? Why not a Waco?"

"The Howard was the fore-runner of modern luxury personal aircraft. It didn't 'invent' the features but it brought the best of the best together ... low wing cantilever wings. NACA speed airfoil, retractable in wing landing gear, all metal construction ... just think about it ... from 1933 on, the shape of the Howard fuselage was the shape of air-cooled fighter aircraft past the end of the war.

"Before the Howard, military aircraft, if they had retractable landing gear at all, hid the retracting gear in the fuselage ... the planes were hard to land because they had such a narrow stance. Even superlative fighters like the Spitfire were hard to land.

"Why not Waco? They persisted in building to an obsolete mindset. Biplane, fixed gear and all those wires. A cantilever biplane with retractable? ... the Waco would look great. Except for the bumps.

"Howards had tight fitting smooth engine cowlings and a fuselage shape that matched the cowling. Look at the F-4-F. The fuselage was a good foot larger in diameter than the engine. The F-6 fixed a lot of that. By the end of the war, combatant radial engined aircraft looked so similar they were shooting their own aircraft down. But, by the end of the war the jet made propeller craft obsolete."

"You said a 195 Cessna ... that seems like an odd choice."

"Prettiest high wing monoplane ever built. There is absolutely nothing like a flying 195. Pure grace in the air. Retractable, cantilever, radial. The nose is long ... classy.

"They're pretty on the ground, too. Well balanced, stately, I call 'em."

"A 262?"

"Do you know as far as shape goes ... we're just beginning to match the 262. A more reliable pair of engines and the Germans would have driven the bombers from the sky. We can thank what ever gods there may be that Hitler was insane. He slowed development of the 262 for two years ... two years when even a week was too much. Yeah, if I could turn back time and know what I do now ... those three. They're among the rarest planes in the world. I can think of some more rare but they're ugly ... BT 18 for one."

I was nodding like a water dipper bird sitting on a glass behind a bar somewhere. Sheesh ... I feel awful ... I could pick up all three of those planes with a few clicks of my watch.

We were buried deep in the junk when the 130 made its approach. The wheels came down and we watched as June greased it. Great job, Junebug!

The Colonel sighed..."I wish she was military ... your sister can fly." He got this 'calculating' look, "Can I interest you in the Reserves?"

I chuckled, "Not hardly ... too damn many rules ... too damn many assholes. I have to respect the man ... there's too many assholes wearing the uniform to respect it."

"Kinda like a Baptist preacher who cheats on his wife?"

"Yeah ... only more-so." I gave him a look, "Like a preacher who cheats, drinks and preaches bigotry. I've heard it before... 'If you're not a member of MY church, you're going to hell!'"

We both laughed ... it was a 'funny sheesh' laugh ... not a 'funny ha ha' laugh.

My cell phone rang.

"Moon."

"Hi Moon."

"We're in the junk piles."

"What I can see is the last parts C-47's."

"Ok ... send up a flare." It was a joke ... but she did.

"POOF!"

"Holy Shit, June. I was kidding."

The Colonel was looking at me ... the flare ... me again ... the flare..."Shit, I hope that doesn't start a fire."

"Me too."

Pretty soon, the Air Police showed up. A Sergeant opened the backdoor, "Is this yours?"

Junie.

"Yeppers,"

"Ya'all get in ... General wants to see you."

Shit! "June..."

"You told me to."

"If I told you to ride a bicycle off a tall cliff ... bad example ... we both did that."

And that got a look.

"Little bikes ... parachutes ... it was fun," said June.

Oops.

Then I said, "It was a 'Hold my beer' moment."

Now they know we're crazy.

The General wanted to congratulate the pilot who landed the 130. It took a moment to convince him it was June. June is SHORT ... there is a height limit for flying the 130. June was a good three inches under the low limit.

It didn't take long before June and I were sitting on the 'Group W' bench out in the outer office. The entire flight crew was in the inner sanctum.

Twenty or so minutes I got summoned. I explained the deal. We qualified in the 130. The Colonel qualified in the Beech ... the Beech got delivered to Lansing. We delivered the 130 to the Reserves after it was fixed.