Richard Jernigan -> RE: Some aircraft drawings and paintings (Jan. 18 2017 6:54:41)
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Great paintings, Stephen. Keep 'em coming. I flew C-141s between Honolulu and Kwajalein several times from the late 1970s through the 1980s, when I went out for planning meetings or flight tests. Usually they were rigged with passenger seats that dated from the time of the Spanish Inquisition, though a couple of times they just had the sling seats that paralleled the sides, and could be hoisted out of the way to make room for more cargo. Even with seats, there was always room for a few pallets of cargo. Woe betide the newbie civilian who innocently strolled up to take a look at the stuff. The Loadmaster would make it abundantly clear that passengers didn't cross the line. When a civilian traveled on a military plane, they asked for your salary to calculate your rank. It was a false equivalence, since civilians typically got paid more than military with similar responsibilities. I started telling the travel people to lie, so I wouldn't get assigned to one of the two VIP seats on the plane. The C-141 had two tiny windows, one on each side of the fuselage. The VIP seats were next to them. The usual setup had a row of electric radiant heaters down the ceiling of the center aisle, and no insulation on the skin of the plane. You were broiled on one side, and only 1/16" of aluminum separated you from -65F outside. The chief flight attendant was often a master sergeant, a woman about six feet-four, with muscles to match. She wore fatigues and combat boots. When she handed out the baloney sandwiches, you said, "Thank you!" in a loud clear voice. On Kwaj at that time, Courvoisier VSOP was $8 per liter. Heading back to Hono I had a couple of bottles in my carry-on bag. While I wasn't looking, one of my companions "borrowed" a bottle and was furtively spiking cups of coffee from the big jug at the back of the passenger compartment. As soon as I tasted mine, I was in mortal fear of being apprehended by the master sergeant. The Air Force Ballistic Missile Office moved from El Segundo out to Norton, so I went to meetings there fairly often. Taking classified briefings to meetings at Norton, you were supposed to check them in overnight at the Military Air Transport Command Ops Shack. The first time I did it, I didn't know how to navigate out the flight line to the Ops Shack. A friend with me said, "Why don't we just drive out and look around?" "You don't understand," I said. "The Air Force is very serious about their airplanes. I am not going to drive out and wander around among about two dozen C-141s and a few C-5s and get my butt arrested." We finally found an Air Policeman who led the way. When we got there I said to my friend, "Want to come in with me?" The Ops Shack was on the second floor of the building. Two signs flanked the broad stairway, each reading, "This is an operational facility of the United States Air Force. The use of deadly force is authorized." The signs had the desired effect on my friend. The effect was reinforced when we got to the little window in the wall and rang the bell. One of the two majors pulling the night shift picked up his M-16 automatic rifle, came to the window, and said,"What can I do for you?" My friend kept staring at the weapon while I checked in the package and got my hand receipt. RNJ
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