TALL TALES II CONTEST (Read 22,395 times)

Very sorry to hear that. Hope you are doing well.
:god_bless_usa
Take it easy and will have prayers for you.

Old Sarge, I'll jump in as # 7. I found an old tale I told back in 2004 but it needs some "style" so I'll rework it. Count me out of the contest for prizes - from what I've seen so far, I wouldn't stand a chance any who.

Thanks to Barney Barnes for sending this... Fred Reed has a writing style that may help with the Tall Tales II contest

Jan 11th article
fredoneverything.net/TSAAgain.shtml

Fred On Everything is humor and his home page is here
fredoneverything.net/index.html

From his bio page:
Fred, a keyboard mercenary with a disorganized past, has worked on staff for Army Times, The Washingtonian, Soldier of Fortune, Federal Computer Week, and The Washington Times.

He has been published in Playboy, Soldier of Fortune, The Wall Street Journal, The Washington Post, Harper's, National Review, Signal, Air&Space, and suchlike. He has worked as a police writer, technology editor, military specialist, and authority on mercenary soldiers. He is by all accounts as loony as a tune.


Pat P.

doc, change some names and places...................btw, they won't ever notify you, you have to inquire as to its' current status ..... put you down as 3 # 8??

Glad you asked that...I was gonna have to lie or something...


Steve

Tale # 3
I hope this counts as what you are looking for in a story. I would love to have a chance at one of those beautiful clocks.

I was stationed at Korat RTAFB Thailand in 1972. We had numerous types of aircraft there and saw many others come and go regularly.

I was a crew chief on an F-4E that was on a mission when we heard that an SR-71 was coming in to spend the night. We watched the sky at the expected time of arrival and pretty soon we saw an airplane that we knew was not something from our base. There it was, a sleek, black, SR-71. What a beautiful machine, and so graceful. It landed and was met by the "Follow Me" truck and Security Police. There were many vehicles leading and following with lights flashing.

It taxied into a hangar used for EC-121's that were stationed there. It shut down the engines and the doors were closed in front and behind it. They were left open only about shoulder-width so only one armed security policeman was required. There were, of course, others inside the hangar to monitor maintenance personnel who were servicing the bird. We were allowed to stand at the entrance and take a look at this marvelous machine. The engines looked massive and the styling of the twin tails was beautiful.

We had to drive around the hangar to the other side to see it from the front. We were awe-struck and it was the only thing we talked about the rest of the night when we were not busy with our normal tasks.

We worked 12 hour shifts and we heard it was going to take off around sunrise. Wow, we got to see it come in and now we were going to see it leave, too. We worked on our F-4's with one eye on the taxiway so we wouldn't miss it. It had a distinctive sound, as every aircraft does.

Before long, it was coming and we watched it as it gracefully went by. It came down the runway and just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. We went back to work but were told by the expediter to watch the sky. Pretty soon we saw an airplane in the landing pattern but it wasn't going to land. It was coming in too fast for a landing. It was coming in very fast. I had never seen an airplane go that fast over the base. It was subsonic, but it had to be close to supersonic. We saw it go overhead and get smaller before we heard the sound. For me it was the thrill of a lifetime.

We were used to seeing many different types of aircraft come in for a visit but that was the best one that I saw.

Tale # 4
This story begins when I was a young airman out of tech school. My first assignment was the 456th FIS at Castle AFB in sunny California in 1957.

The squadron had F86L's to begin with, F102's in 1958, then F106's in 1959. This was all in SUNNY California. Little did I know what was coming. Fast forward to Jan 1962. Orders for Thule, Greenland!!!!

Didn't take me long to figure out that the cold weather was for somebody else. Two weeks into the tour I landed a position in Job Control where it was WARM. Look at the 102's from the inside.

At any rate being there to work where I did gave me knowledge of a lot of things that went on there. Have you ever saw a B57 with the 15 foot extensions on the wings and the big engines? We had one come in up there and supposedly they were there to "Check the weather". Right!! When he took off he went basically straight up and if you watched close would then turn straight NORTH. There was only one thing north of Thule and that was the pole and the Ruskies.

It wasn't but a couple of days later that the deuce pilots came back mad as he**. Absolutely no explanation but we received a call in maintenance to remove the drop tanks from the deuces. The next day the same thing happened. Boy were those pilots steamed!!

We finally got one of them to admit what was going on. As you guys know the service ceiling of both a six & a deuce was about 51,500. The deuce drivers were trying to use that B57 as a target but when they started to get close he would key his mike, laugh at them, & go straight up. They couldn't even begin to catch him even without tanks on!!! It really did show that a fighter pilot does have just a little ego problem. They probably wouldn't be fighter pilots if they didn't.

Tale # 5
Heart Surgery & military medicine
This story has a great message in it.
It is right out of my book.


For maybe six years, I’d been feeling very poorly. Years of headaches, nausea, and gastroenteritis will wear a person down. I’d been excused from duty about once or twice a month for a few days at a time when the gastroenteritis was severe. My wife worried about my health, and prayed for me to get well. As the years went by the symptoms became more frequent and more severe. I didn’t know how much longer I could take this sickness.

I had been checked by many military doctors of all ranks. I was being treated for high blood cholesterol levels, and allergies. The Air Force hospital did two physicals a year on us aircraft technicians. One check was always an industrial physical, with total blood work, x-rays, and an electrocardiogram. My physicals always showed that I was in very good shape. But I didn’t feel in very good shape at times.

It was a bright warm sunny day in May of 1990. I was at home relaxing with my family. Someone in our family noticed a white calf belonging to our neighbor who owned the dairy farm behind us. Some how the calf wondered under our electric fence and was now lying in the grass along the top of our driveway. The calf was right next to the highway and in front of our house. We were afraid the calf would get frightened and jump up and out in front of a vehicle, causing a vehicle crash and injuries. This calf was pure white. I’d never seen a totally white calf or cow before, and I was in awe. I’d spent many years on our dairy farms in Pennsylvania growing up and had never seen one. This calf was something very special.

Slowly and quietly I walked up our driveway, which is about 50 or 60 yards long to the road. The calf watched me, but was not afraid of me. I was listening, watching and waiting, until I heard no traffic before I made my move. When I was sure all was clear, I approached the young white calf, forcing it down into our yard, and toward the pasture fence line. All along the mother cow was calling to the calf as it headed in her direction with me close behind.

As soon as it was all over I came back to the house. As I came into the kitchen I was holding my chest, breathing hard, and laughing. I said, “This country life will kill ya!” My wife said, “Sit down, you look like a heart patient!” I was all out of breath, and sweat was rolling off my forehead. She asked, “Can I get you anything?” and I said, “Just give me a coke and some ice and I’ll be fine.”

My wife who had been a Nurse for 17 years (U.S. Army Nurse for 6 years) said, “You need to go to the doctor and get checked out.” I argued with her and said, “I don’t want to go to the doctor.” She ignored me and called our family physician. It was Memorial Weekend and the McChord Air Force Base Clinic was closed but Doctor Flux told her to have me come in on Tuesday to the clinic to see him.

As many cardiac patients are, I was in denial about my condition. Against my wife’s urging to take it easy I went about my usual activities. I even took our 10 year old son out in our boat salmon fishing, but I became so weak that we cut the fishing trip short. We came back home and I spent most of the rest of the day sleeping.

On Tuesday, I woke and drove the 75 miles to the McChord AFB Clinic. Dr. Flux did an Cardiac EKG. He didn’t tell me, but the results showed that my heart was showing signs of ischemia (lack of oxygen to the heart). He remarked, “Your industrial physical and electrocardiogram about 6 months ago showed no abnormalities.” He looked me in the eyes and said, “We have a problem.” I responded with, “We have a problem; you mean I have a problem.” I have no idea why some doctors say that. Except that it expresses interest and concern. He told me to take my records and go to the Emergency Room (ER) at Madigan Army Medical Center.

I went to the MAMC ER with my EKG results provided by Dr. Flux. The ER did a battery of tests and did not tell me what was wrong. I was very sick with nausea, vomiting, and a headache. They sent me home with the test results and told me to go to the cardiology clinic in the morning. I drove home the 75 plus miles to my home. When I got there my wife asked what the doctor said, I replied, “They said it isn’t serious,” and I went directly to bed. My wife read the report that stated I had ischemia and called the local hospital to make sure they would take me, a military man if needed, and stayed up all night.

When I awoke the next morning I felt great and insisted on driving myself to the hospital. Before leaving we noticed that there was a beautiful rainbow in the sky that was positioned so that the ends landed on each side of our property line. We marveled at the beauty of the rainbow but didn’t think it had any significance. We kissed the kids and put them on the school bus and headed for MAMC. We had no idea of what we were going to experience over the next three weeks.

I reported to the Cardiology Clinic Ward at Madigan Army Medical Center. My wife and I went in to talk to the cardiologist. She was a tiny little woman whose name was Dr. Saltiel. She would ask questions about my condition and I would say, “I’m fine. No problems.” Then my wife would say to the Doctor, “Oh yes, he does” and describe the symptoms that she had observed. After speaking to us for just a few moments Dr. Saltiel told us that she wanted to do a cardiac catherization and described what that would be. I was told that I needed to stay in the clinic while they looked for a bed for me in the cardiac unit. Still in denial, I insisted that I wanted to go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat. I was allowed to go to the cafeteria get something to eat and come right back. When I got back I was admitted to the cardiac care unit to spend the night. The procedure would be done the next morning.

The next morning I was given a Cardiac Catherization. This procedure, as I remember it was commonly referred to as a “heart cath”. It involves the insertion of a catheter into the femoral artery. The catheter is then threaded up the artery into the heart chamber or vessel of your heart. It’s done for both investigational and interventional purposes. Coronary catheterization is a diagnostic tool or technique that provides 100% accurate inspection of coronary arteries. Its results fully show the exact locations where the obstructions are located and how bad they are.

The cardiac catheterization results were not good. But, it was also good news, because now we all knew what was wrong with me. And there were several options to fix my condition.

My cardiologists, wife, and I discussed my health situation and the options for my treatment. I chose the option to have an Angioplasty performed. An angioplasty is much the same as an angiogram but a balloon is placed where there is an artery blockage. The balloon is inflated to force the artery opened, which in some cases causes a small tear in the artery. This allows the blood to flow more freely.

Madigan Army Medical Center in 1990 was far from a modern facility. I believe it had been built during WWII. It was all brick and all on one floor, with dozens of separate wings, and miles of joining hallways. It also did not have a modern surgical heart operating room. If for any reason during my angioplasty procedure the balloon tore or ruptured my heart artery, then an emergency heart artery bypass would need to be done.
Saint Joseph’s Hospital was equipped with all the facilities needed and was a very nice place to be. We were thrilled to hear that I was going to be transferred there for my Angioplasty. Saint Joseph’s Hospital was a very clean and modern hospital. Over the years several of our friends received treatment there and were very please.

The procedure was supposed to take 45 minutes, but it took 2 hours. All of our family lived either in the Midwest or on the East Coast. My wife waited alone wondering what was happening. What we didn’t know was that the substance that had formed in my artery was very tough and didn’t stretch easily. When the artery did tear, it tore much too far. Unaware of the extent of the tear, the angioplasty was considered a success.

After the completion of the procedure I had to lie still in my hospital bed for at least 4 hours while the insertion point in my leg artery healed. A very young nurse came around often and gave me sips of water. She also took the time to massage my back and neck, thus helping to prevent cramps and the need for me to move around. I had the best of care and plenty of it. My wife spent most of her time at my bedside. She also massaged me, brought me drinks, and fed me when I was too weak or drugged.

Later I was transported back to Madigan Army Medical Center. Going from St. Joseph’s to Madigan Hospital was like a trip back in time. I remember an old steam radiator not far from my bed. The building had a cold look and atmosphere to it. But, the medical care was outstanding.

I felt excellent, and my doctor decided to let me go home. After about two days I was scheduled to come back the following day for a treadmill stress test. I was pleased and happy to be back at home feeling great. Our Church was having a revival and we took our three children that evening. When the invitation to pray was given I went to the altar and prayed a prayer of thankfulness for my life, family, and the medical procedure which had saved my life.

When I got up and went back to my seat, my wife noticed that I was pale, cold to the touch, and that my forehead was wet with sweat. She asked me, “Are you all right?” “It’s nothing, was just hot up there,” I responded. The treadmill test scheduled the following day would tell a different story.

Back at Madigan Army Medical Center’s Cardiology Ward it was time for my treadmill stress test. The test seemed very easy to me. The intern performing the test said I was doing great and encouraged me to press on. At one point near the end of the test I was on a full run and my heart rate was up to 179 BPM (Beats per Minute), well above the target rate. I also surpassed the target time limit and only stopped as my legs gave out on me. I was real proud of my performance.

I freshened up and got changed out of my running clothes. My wife and I then met with my cardiologists as we held hands waiting for the results. When the cardiologist came out to talk to us she looked very concerned. I told her I felt great and that the intern encouraged me to keep going long as I could. I was ready to go home and get on with our lives.

Well, the good doctor once again said, “You’re not going anywhere!” She explained that the electrocardiogram had indicated a problem and the intern should have terminated the test. She was not pleased at all, and I was sure the intern was in for a real bad day. Doctor Saulteal told me to, “Sit here and wait for a hospital bed to become available.” “I am going home,” I replied. “You are not; you are going to sit there!” She said again. I said, “I’m hungry and just going down the hall for some lunch.” She was a doctor, but also a Major in the U.S. Army Medical Corps, and knew her stuff, and was not about to let her patient (me) tell her what he was going to do. Another angioplasty might be needed the next morning.

My wife, Dr. Saltier, and I discussed my options and current condition. My main heart artery had been torn. The inner lining of the main artery was torn and flapping in the blood flow. If not corrected there was the strong possibility that blood would get between the inner and outer artery linings and cause a bulge that could totally block blood flow. I asked, “What does that mean?” The Doctor explained that a balloon would form and burst with the pressure of blood flow. I asked, “What will happen then?” She said, “A fatal heart attack.”

First, I could choose another angioplasty at Saint Josephs Hospital and see if the flap could be stuck back against the artery wall and hoped it stayed there and healed.
Secondly, I could choose to have the damaged area bypassed. Of course this would be major surgery, including many other risks, including death.

My wife and I looked at each other as we held hands. I asked my doctor this question, “If I choose the angioplasty again, what is the estimated percentage of success?” Her reply was, “Maybe 40 percent.”

I then asked, “What percentage would the bypass offer?” She replied, “100 percent.” I informed her that I elected to go with the bypass. She said, “That would have been my recommendation,” she was pleased I selected it on my own. She informed my wife and I that arrangements would be made and I could expect the surgery within 48 hours. My wife and I just held each other and hugged.

“We talked about a medi-vac flight on a C-9 for you to Letterman Regional Military Medical Center for an angioplasty, but decided it was too much of a risk, if anything happens during the flight they won’t be able to save you.” That was the Doctor’s worry. Our hearts just sank as my wife and I sat there looking at each other. We could see it in each other’s faces. But, we also knew we were in excellent hands.

The next day my wife brought our three children in to the hospital to see me. They were, ten, eleven and fifteen years old. After my wife and children left, I wrote separate letters to my family members. When the evening doctor came by on his rounds he asked, “What are you doing?” I informed him, “I’m writing letters in case something goes wrong during heart surgery.” He tried to reassure me that everything would go well as hundreds if not a thousand or more heart surgeries are done daily across the nation. I replied, “Mistakes, accidents, and equipment failures do happen.”
Later that evening I prayed and asked God for some sign or reassurance that I would survive the surgery and get well. I then got out my Bible and opened it. The pages fell open and my eyes focused on Luke 9:11 “And the people, when they knew it, followed him: and he received them, and spake unto them of the kingdom of God, and healed them that had need of healing.” I quickly thought,“ Wow, that sounds like reassurance to me!”
But we humans often have doubts and think maybe that was just by chance. I closed my Bible and let it fall open again. This time my eyes focused on Mark 12:24 “Therefore I say unto you, What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them.”
That was just awesome I thought! I have a desire to get well, I prayed and prayed hard, I believe and I am a believer, so I shall have it. I put my letters in my Bible and put my Bible on the stand next to my bed. I quickly fell asleep.

The bypass would be performed at Tacoma General Hospital. My heart surgeon would be Dr. Colabits one of the Pacific Northwest’s best. He had reviewed my case with my cardiologists (Dr. Saultiel) and agreed to perform the surgery. So I was in very good hands.

The night before the surgery, when it was time to move me to Tacoma General Hospital things started to move fast. A guy came into my room and said, “I have to shave you before your heart surgery.” I asked, “What are you talking about and where?” He answered, “All over, it prevents infections.” My wife said to me, “I’ll be right back.” And I quickly replied, “Don’t leave me – stay!” She just replied, “That’s Okay, I’ll be back soon.” All of a sudden hospital staff seemed to descend on me like a flock of locusts; lab work was drawn, x-rays taken, intravenous liquids started. I was transported by military ambulance to Tacoma General Hospital. Our friend who is a pastor, Wayne Chase came in to pray with us.

The morning of the surgery Dr. Colabits came into talk with us. He told us how long it might take and exactly what he was going to do. He took my wife into a room to view the film of the cardiac cath so she could see why intervention was necessary and why he had to move quickly. My wife, Pastor Wayne Chase, and I prayed together. Our Pastor from our church came in and prayed with us also.

When it was time to move to the surgical room I was medicated with Morphine and other relaxants. As I’ve been told, I must have been concerned about my wife because I kept saying to her that if anything happened she was to sell the boat. My wife stood there with tears streaming down her face listening and assuring me that nothing would happen.

When my wife was taken to the patient waiting room there were so many of our friends there that she was taken to a larger private room. My surgery took longer than expected. It was very difficult to get in the intubation device due to my having a class 4 airway.

When my wife was taken in to see me after the surgery she was not prepared for what she saw. There I was with tubes coming out of every possible place on my body. I had IV’s on both sides of my chest, chest tubes, and a catheter. I was hooked up to a ventilator and had a naso-gastric tube in place. I was still unconscious. Surrounding my bed were large computer machines and monitors. My body had been doused in betadine solution so my entire body was yellow. When she went over to the bed and touched me I was cold to the touch. Tears streamed down her face as the nurse and my best friend tried to assure her that this was all normal.

My wife later told me that when she went over to the far side of my bed she discovered that my IV connection had come loose and I was leaking blood into a large puddle on floor, which was not visible from the door side of the room. My wife quickly and calmly went and got the nurse and had her secure the IV. This is just one of the little things that worried me the night before surgery until I searched my Bible. My wife just had this strange urge to go to the far side of the bed. Had she not, who knows what serious medical emergency might have happened.

When I woke up I had those tubes down my throat. My throat was sore and dry. I could not wait to get those air breathing tubes out so I could drink some cold water.

Then came the time when my doctor came around to check on me. I had three hard plastic tube like straws through my chest into my chest wall to drain off excess fluid and blood. The doctor advised me that he was going to pull the three tubes out. I asked, “Doc, is this going to hurt?” He indicated, “Yes!” I mentioned something about pain, but don’t recall what it was, but the doctor told the nurse to give me a shot of morphine. I made a remark or joke about making it a double morphine shot. After the shot he grabbed all three tubes and pulled them out. That and the breathing tubes were the worse part of the whole heart surgery process.

I recovered at a miraculous rate! A walkman was given to me by my wife and kids, which I used when I was able to walk. I soon was walking up and down the halls of Tacoma General listening to my favorite music. On my walks around the ward I often stopped and visited other patients waiting for heart surgery. I would tell them, “You will not feel a thing and there is nothing to worry about, just a walk in the park.”

The day came when I was to be transferred back to MAMC on the southern sided of Tacoma, and past McChord AFB, a fairly short trip of maybe 15 or 18 miles. I was prepared for the transfer and a nurse wheeled me out in a wheel chair to the military vehicle waiting for me. Just being maybe 5 days out of heart bypass surgery I expected a comfortable medical ambulance would be transporting me. I was shocked to see a military van. Several patients were already seated in the window van and I was given the last seat which was the passenger seat beside the driver.

The medic helped me in the passenger’s seat and put the shoulder strap and seatbelt on me. I remarked, “Do you know that I had heart bypass surgery and my chest is held together with 4 metal bands?” “Yep, I sure do,” was his reply. I then suggested, “I should be transported in an ambulance for safety.” He quickly said, “This van is all we have available today.” We agreed he would be extra cautious traveling down the interstate to MAMC.
Once I was transferred back to MAMC my wife finally went home to visit with our children who were being cared for by close friends in our Church. On the way, she saw a big rainbow in the sky. All of a sudden the rainbow had new meaning. She remembered the rainbow over our property the day she and I drove down to MAMC the first time to see the cardiologist. She believes to this day that God was trying to tell us that everything would be all right, we just didn’t realize it.

When I returned to duty I was assigned to the main jet engine shop and not maintenance supervision. For my first 90 days I was assigned low stress and light duty and my duty day was restricted to only 4 hours. After that I was assigned light duty for another 90 days and a medical profile was put in my records that I could not eat MRE’s known as Meals Ready to Eat because of their high salt and fat contact. Salt and extra fat would affect my blood by increase cholesterol levels.

DesertShield/Storm started in August and many of my friends were and had deployed to Saudi. Because of my surgery and new medical profile I was was locked out of the action and not happy about it.

Tale # 7

My only experience with helicopters was in Summer of 1953.

I was at The SCAB, in the Air Base Squadron. We took care of transient aircraft that came our way.

One day an H19 came in from near O'Niell, Nebraska, about 130 miles West.

There was a group of scientists, Air Force and others, working from a field several miles out of O'Niell.
They were doing some research on wind activity and seeing if they could figure out how the wind would effect rocket launches.

When the copter came in we stood off and let the main rotor and the tail rotor stop before we did anything. We put the chocks under the main gear and then refueled it.

If you have never seen an H19, it is an big machine. The pilot sits high in the top of the fuselage, there are two seats. The passenger/cargo compartment is on the lowest level of the fuselage. The engine is in the nose and is placed at a forward angle from vertical, with the propeller shaft facing up and aft. That made it easier to run the shaft to the transmission and rotor. The transmission is behind the cockpit and above the compartment. It used a Wright R1300 engine. That's the engine used in the T28.

The next morning we got the copter loaded and the crew chief did his pre-flight. One of the things he did, and we assisted, was to turn the engine over with the ignition off. One of our guys held a pole with a piece of cloth attached like a flag. It had a chalk mark on it. When the rotor turned the tip of each blade was supposed to hit the chalk mark. They all did.

However, there was something that just didn't seem right. I had no idea about any of it, except the engine, as I worked on planes with reciprocating engines. That was not much help.

One of our NCOs just didn't like the way the main rotor looked and talked to the crew chief and the pilots about it. They decided to start up and one of the pilots and the crew chief take a look while it was running. They decided to take the bird and head back to O'Niell.

We got to the hanger the next morning and were doing whatever we were supposed to be doing. The boss came out to the hanger and told us the H19 had crashed and he needed some "volunteers" to go recover the wreckage. I was selected, along with two other young guys. There was one two-striper and two us us one-stripers. There was a TSgt in charge who went with the flatbed we were going to put the wreckage on.

The A2c had a car and the three of us rode in it to O'Niell. We left on Saturday morning and got there around noon.
We got there and went to the Air Force Recruiting Office. That is where the whole thing was being coordinated. It was all being done by enlisted, there wasn't an officer to be found, except the ones involved in the experiments.

We got checked in to the local tourist court (motel) and then went out to the site.

There was a large hole in the ground and lots of aluminum scattered about. The largest pieces we found were the engine and transmission. The tires melted in the fire when the crash occurred. Lots of other things burned, as well. The interior was insulated cloth covered and mostly burned.
It was a giant mess.

The crash site had that sickening aroma that comes from burnt flesh, fuel and explosives. Unless you have smelled it, there is no way to describe it.

There were 4 on board when it crashed, plus the two pilots. All of them were killed.

All of the bodies, or what was left of them had been recovered soon after the crash and were being taken to Offutt, I think.

The quick opinion on the cause of the crash was not hard to come by.

People on the ground were watching the bird climb to altitude and begin to fly around the area, looking at the thunder clouds and doing some in-flight measurements.

One farmer, who was in the next field, was looking up and heard a funny sound and saw something fly off of the top. Turned out to be one of the rotor blades. Others on the ground, mostly a bit away from the immediate area, heard the noise and saw something falling away from the bird. There were over 100 involved in the testing and most of them witnessed the crash.

The official report said a rotor blade came off and hit the tail assembly. The copter then fell with devastating results.

Then they all described the fall and crash in much the same way.

The copter tilted forward and began to fall toward the ground. The engine being in the nose, put all the weight at the front. It fell a couple thousand feet and hit in the field and exploded. It had been refueled just before takeoff and the full load of Av Gas exploded. The fire was devastating. There were also lots of explosives that were used in the wind testing. The began exploding and the people on the ground were not able to get anyone out of the compartment.

There wasn't anything we could do that day, as it was getting toward supper time and there was nothing could be done for that day.

Back to our rooms, each of us had a single room and shower, and change in to civvies.

Then it was down the street for a meal in the diner we were directed to by the recruiter. When we got there, the owner told us we couldn't pay for our meals. They were on him. He said we were doing a nasty job and he didn't want to charge us. Good food. The place is no longer there.
The waitress told us there was a dance at the high school gym that night and we were all invited. There were, as I recall, only 5 of us.
We went to the gym and some of the people came over and welcomed us and told us partners would find us. They did. Seemed like lots of the high school girls, and some older, wanted to dance with the airmen.

One dance was really strange.

All the men lined up around the walls and the girls lined up inside the line of men. Then the music started, live band of fiddles, guitars and string bass. Looked like a group of local men. When the music got going, the ladies started moving in one direction and we followed the men moving in the opposite direction. The ladies would whirl around and the men would hold out a hand to them. Then the ladies would each take a hand and we all whirled around two or three times, then the ladies let go and started off in the opposite direction. This went on for what seemed like hours, but was probably only 15 minutes. Never saw a dance like that. It was tiring. Then there was a refreshment break. Punch and cookies. After that it was waltzes, polkas, two-steps and a bit of square dancing.

We all had a good time and when we headed back to our rooms were tired out.

Small, Nebraska farm town entertainment.

The next morning it was down to the diner for breakfast and talk about the dance. Then off to the crash site. It was a Sunday, but there were people out looking at the site. The local sheriff was there to keep people away from the wreckage. Most of the people involved with the experiments were there, but stayed out of the way.

The TSgt made contact with a local garage and had a wrecker brought to the site of the crash to help load the heavy pieces on the flatbed. The engine being the heaviest, and then the transmission. Those were the first things loaded, as the Air Force was paying for the wrecker.

The wrecker was on the opposite side of the flatbed from the wreckage and we took the hook and using a cable wrapped around the engine, drug the engine up some planks on to the flatbed. We did the same with the transmission. There were some other pieces that were large enough to use the wrecker, like the cockpit area and part of the tail assembly. The rest was just picked up and put on the pile. We put the side rails on the flatbed as we got more loaded. It took most of the load space to get everything on.

We were in the process of loading the flat bed, when a Gooney Bird flew over quite low. About that time the recruiter came to the site to tell us there was going to be a Gooney Bird coming to look over the site and wanted to know where to land. A couple of the men went out in one field next to the crash site to look it over. It was level and pretty smooth. So they took pieces of cloth and signaled the pilot to land in that field.

The Gooney Bird made a couple of passes and then very slowly came across the barbed wire fence and set it down as smoothly as if it were on a hard runway. The bird taxied to the area where the crash site was closest and shut down.

The door opened and SSgt Tony Gonzales, the flight mechanic opened the door and put the steps on, Then came the pilot, a big man, with a fringe of red hair, wearing a flight suit and his trademark Wellingtons. Lt. Col. Benjamin, Commander of the 87th FIS.

He greeted everyone and got a briefing from the TSgt. He had a photographer with him. Don't know why, the base photographer and the sheriffs photographer had already taken ton's of pictures. Maybe he wanted them for his collection. Who knows. It was Big Bull Benjamin, WW2 fighter pilot, CO of one of the last F51 Mustang squadrons on active duty.

There were others who got off the Gooney Bird, but didn't get back on. They must have been involved with the investigation or the experiment.

Once he was done, he took a look at the field to see if we were going to have to take out some fence for him to take off.

Nope. He figured if we pushed the Goon in to the corner of the field, he would have enough room.

So, we all went over the fence and moved th bird so the tail was a close to the fence as we could get it.

Everyone got back on and the steps were in and the door closed.

No fire guard that day. Just start the engines and warm them up.

Engines at full throttles and the tail began to bounce.

Brakes off and bounce across the field and missed the fence in the other corner.

One fly by and back to The SCAB.

We finished loading the flatbed and then head back to The SCAB ourselves.

While we were picking up the pieces of the copter, one of the guys picked up a piece of aluminum skin and found a human hand. It was grasping a piece of a wooden grab rail from the cabin. There were a few other pieces of flesh, all burned, but the hand was not burned. All the body pieces got put in a burlap sack that was put in the tool box on the flatbed.

When everything was tied down, we headed to U.S. 20 and back to the base.

Being Summer, on the Prairie, there were thunderstorms in the area. The truck driver didn't want to drive in the hard rain, so he pulled off at a roadside diner. We ran inside to get something to eat while it rained.

When the rain subsided, we drew a crowd. There was a lot of curiosity about our cargo.

The TSgt had a weird sense of humor. When people in the crowd asked about the wreckage, they had heard about it, he told them to get close and smell. The smell of burned human flesh is not a pleasant smell. They moved back to get away from the smell.
Then he took the burlap sack from the tool box and opened it for the crowd to look at.
Yep, a couple of them ran off to get rid of the lunch they just ate.

Then it was an uneventful trip back to The SCAB.

Just another day for the 79th Air Base Squadron crash recovery crew.

Here is an article about the O'Neill Experiment and the crash. www.airspacemag.com/military-aviation/58533392.html

Jim Scanlon

OK!!! Ya got me back!!! I'll be a judge, but mind ALL of you ---- I can tell apretty good lie me ownself!!!


MArv :fire_missle_ani :green-beer :green-beer :drunk