Bits I Left Out
Anyone who’s ever written a book of memoirs will have experienced this reaction, shortly after the work has gone to the printers: “Why didn’t I include this anecdote, (that brief remembrance, the other pithy tale) in the book”? Well, it’s too late now, Sport, but like most disappointments, there is a way to recover. I’m starting this regular Blog feature on my website that will hopefully capture some of the memorable moments that I forgot the first time around. They may be humorous, tragic, or somewhere in between and they’ll certainly cover both the Phantom and Warthog eras of my career. I hope you’ll enjoy them.
Carrier Landings
First out of the box is another of the many extracurricular recreations that kept us all from being dull boys. In the book, I’ve discussed Dead Bug, Crud, and Sockey, but inexplicably left out carrier landings. All of these activities were normally carried out in an Officers’ Club bar, but occasionally spilled over into off-base commercial establishments where we were normally ejected for taking part.
A bit of background for carrier landings. The Phantom was originally built for the Navy which employed them to operate from aircraft carriers. Consequently, the Phantom was equipped with a tail hook–600 lbs. of pig iron lashed to the underside of the aircraft below the tail. Before landing, the hook was lowered and, on touchdown, ideally it would grab one of a number of cables strung across the ship’s deck, bringing 20 tons of Phantom to an abrupt halt (lest it slid off the end of the deck—not a pleasant outcome).
The Friday night happy hour pastime that replicated this operational necessity was about as close to a carrier as we Air Force fighter pilots were going to get, so we approached it with great enthusiasm (often generated by copious quantities of beer). The sequence of events went something like this:
Fighter pilots gathered in the club (or better yet, a now-forbidden den of iniquity once known as the Stag Bar–this wonderful sanctuary has now been relegated to history through the combined efforts of the Officers’ Wives’ Clubs and a politically correct leadership. R.I.P.).
Beer was consumed, war stories and other lies were told and, as the evening moved on, inhibitions disappeared, testosterone levels rose dramatically, and normally docile individuals became aggressive and intrepid. The stage was set.
A long , low table was located (or fashioned from shorter tables pushed together) and this structure was then referred to as ‘The Deck.’
The Deck was ‘foamed’ with lavish quantities of beer, both the approach corridor to the deck and the departure end were cleared of potentially lethal furnishings for reasons which will shortly become clear.
At this point, there were options: the Deck could either be completely clear of obstacles or participants could string a series of rolled up towels, discarded flight suits, etc across the deck, replicating carrier’s cables.
The event commenced: Each pilot accelerated to full tilt down the approach corridor, culminating in a head first dive onto the deck. Depending on the Deck configuration, the pilot would either hook the approach end table top immediately with his toes or, if there were cables available, snag one of these, again with the toes. Use of hands was never permitted.
Failure to hook table top or cable, as on an actual carrier, resulted in sliding off the departure end at a great rate, head first.
Most of these events were ‘safeguarded’ by crash and smash crews, who were ready with pitchers of beer to extinguish post-crash fires, etc. Broken bones, facial contusions and so forth were generally ignored until the end of the adventure.
There’s more to come on the ‘Bits I Left Out’ Blog. Please come back often and thanks in advance for your support.
