Aviators…

Posted on by March 6, 2013
This was attributed to one of my former classmates in AOCS, he transferred over to the Air Force Reserves after his hitch in the Navy…


And if memory serves, it sounds like he hasn’t changed much…


In all honesty I have to say I agree with him 100%! Fighter pilots, and military aviators in general ARE NOT PC PEOPLE.  You can’t be and do your job well; you NEED an ego, and a lot of confidence in your ability to go into a fight and come out the winner.

The Old School

Written by Brigadier General Xxxxx, USAFR-Retired — a former Anchor-Clanker Navy Fighter Pilot who minces no words.  He tells it like it has become with the present day Air Force that is headed by Politically Correct Whoosies.

Some of you know that I was recently “retired” as the XXX Fighter Wing Commander. The decision was made by Brig Gen Xxxxx, the Xxxxx  Air Commander, who replaced me because he “just wants to change the culture at the XXXnd”. Not for cause or performance or any other reason. This officer never commanded anything bigger than an Air Control Squadron and somehow he wound up in charge. Heck, the guy probably got beat up in grade school everyday. I think it is indicative of what is happening in our Air Force and reinforces what Bruce MacLennan and the anonymous author have to say below. Well, I also have something to say about our changing Air Force and it’s quickly disappearing Fighter Pilot culture…

“How many scope dope drone operators does it take to change a lightbulb? Two. One to change the bulb, and one to kiss my ass. That’s right. I said kiss my ass. ‘Cause I’ve had it. The air superiority fighter and its PILOT are not dead and the Chinese are so far not impressed with drones.”

I am tired of Fighter Pilots suffering at the hands of all the pencil pushing REMFs and ladder climbing opportunists and shitty non-rated managers (who think they are leaders) just because the Air Force is currently more interested in feelings and sexual orientation than fighting. Not all officers have what it takes to lead warriors yet too many of them are in charge in our military. At this rate we may lose the next real war.

These shit bird officers need to be run out of leadership positions and get out of my face already. We have too many people in our military that feel the need to play political victim and go to court instead of just dealing with it themselves, no one can have any kind of fun anymore. Men and women can’t flirt, hug, look at anyone sideways, or drink beer out of mermaid mug because of you “victims” and your lawyers. Are you happy?

And while I’m at it… Fighter Pilots, who are willing to die so that we can have low prices at the gas pump and shop at the mall, should be able to throw the wildest parties they can manage without one uptight biddy coming in and stopping it. There were scads of women at The ’91 Tailhook party who were having the time of their lives, voluntarily being just as debauched as any of the men were. Everyone who flew a plane, or even knew someone who flew a plane, knew how wild those parties were and what went on. What does our society expect? A prayer service? It’s worse now than it was then.

“Victims” need to just throw some punches of their own whenever guys, gals, lesbos, or homos get out of line. Doesn’t our tax money go to teach all of our military how to fight? I’m not trying to make the idiotic “she had it coming” argument here, which would go something like “of course they grabbed her breasts, look how big they are.” Plus, just reaching out and grabbing some boob is wrong no matter what. When I was at Tailhook, even at our most drunken admin parties we never acted like that. No matter how hard I try I can’t think of an excuse good enough to do something like that. But it’s still nothing to lose a career over or get your panties in a wad.

Besides, fighter pilots are supposed to be aggressive assholes. That’s how we used to train them. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want a military of fighter pilots who are gifted at giving sensitivity seminars. I want mad-dog, rabid killers going to battle for me and mine. Man or woman. When our homeland is threatened by Middle-Eastern Muslim radicals, or when we want to force our form of government on some poor, unsuspecting poppy growing shit hole, or when uppity North Korean despots develop nuke weapons, I want to be able to call on men and women who like to fight and drink.

I want an officer who knows how to whack some drunk in the balls when he grabs her tits, not call a press conference and a lawyer. If you’re a wimp who doesn’t know how to find the exit at a rowdy party, go fly a kite, not a jet fighter. Fighter Pilot should always be capitalized because it is a hard earned title – So there. Perhaps it’s time for me to retire.


 “Mongo” 

And this one comes from JP, one hellva interesting set of circumstances surrounding these two WWII pilots…


You really CAN’T make stuff like this up…

Trigger time!!!

Posted on by March 6, 2013

And my ritual humiliation… Sigh…


Met up with a friend at the range this morning to help him sight in a new Remington ADL in .270, after that, he drug me over to the shotgun range, and once again I got my butt beat not only on trap, but ALSO on skeet today…


And to add insult to injury, he brought along his son (VMI senior) and son’s buddy (VMI 2010).  I was shooting, er… TRYING to shoot the Citori, and I notice the furniture on the buddy’s gun looks kinda weird, so after the first round I asked him about it; turns out it’s one of THESE!  Now at this point he’s missed ONE bird out of the first round…


So we shoot another round of skeet, and I’m sucking hind tit as usual, but out of eight doubles in the two rounds, somehow I managed to hit six of them.  I got lucky on two and hit both birds with one shot, but what I can’t figure out is whyinhell I can’t hit a bird going straight away from me… sigh…


So we go over to the trap range, and shoot a round of trap, and I’m STILL bringing up the rear, and this kid cleans the trap too (out of 75 rounds he had 74 hits)!  Sitting in the club house over coffee, I find out, “Oh, I was on the rifle team for four years, started shooting trap and skeet when I was 12.” 


THEN he suggests trying to shoot with the middle finger rather than the index finger, since I’ve ‘trained’ myself not to ‘slap’ the trigger, and to always shoot the skeet choke tube.  I went back and looked at the shotgun and I was shooting full/improved for the two chokes… 


Stupid… Just plain stupid… sigh…


Guess I need to go get some more choke tubes.  Anybody else ever heard of shooting with your middle finger???

Another Day, Another Airplane Ride…

Posted on by March 6, 2013


Thirty-six hours of travel for 16 hours worth of meetings.  I’m not doing ‘something’ right here.  Good trip though, productive and hopefully some positives will come out of it…  


In the I TRULY know I’m getting too old category, came out of a two day meeting on the second day, and had a individual come up to me and say, “My Dad says to tell you hello.” I’m standing there with a WTF? look on my face, and he whips out his cell and shows me a picture taken in 1973 with myself standing next to his dad in the picture.  Of course the obvious question is, HOWINTHEHELL did you recognize me??? Turns out I was over at their house years ago and his son remembered me…


And called his dad, who sent him the picture and a ‘suitable’ comment, which of course I returned…


In honor of the ‘good ol’ days’, The Seabag!!!



There was a time when everything you owned had to fit in your seabag. Remember those nasty rascals? Fully packed, one of the suckers weighed more than the poor devil hauling it. The damn things weighed a ton and some idiot with an off-center sense of humor sewed a carry handle on it to help you haul it. Hell, you could bolt a handle on a Greyhound bus but it wouldn’t make the damn thing portable. The Army, Marines, and Air Force got footlockers and WE got a big ole’ canvas bag. 

After you warped your spine jackassing the goofy thing through a bus or train station, sat on it waiting for connecting transportation and made folks mad because it was too damn big to fit in any overhead rack on any bus, train, and airplane ever made, the contents looked like hell. All your gear appeared to have come from bums who slept on park benches. Traveling with a seabag was something left over from the “Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum” sailing ship days. Sailors used to sleep in hammocks, so you stowed your issue in a big canvas bag and lashed your hammock to it, hoisted it on your shoulder and, in effect, moved your entire home from ship to ship.

I wouldn’t say you traveled light because with ONE strap it was a one shoulder load that could torque your skeletal frame and bust your ankles.

It was like hauling a dead linebacker.


They wasted a lot of time in boot camp telling you how to pack one of the suckers. There was an officially sanctioned method of organization that you forgot after ten minutes on the other side of the gate at Great Lakes or San Diego.

You got rid of a lot of the ‘issue’ gear when you went to a SHIP.  Did

you EVER know a tin-can sailor who had a raincoat? A flat hat? One of those nut-hugger knit swimsuits? How bout those ‘roll-your-own’ neckerchiefs… the ones girls in a good Naval tailor shop would cut down & sew into a ‘greasy snake’ for two bucks?

Within six months, EVERY fleet sailor was down to ONE set of dress blues, port & starboard, undress blues, and whites, a couple of white hats, boots, shoes, a watch cap, assorted skivvies, a pea coat, and three sets of bleached-out dungarees.

The rest of your original issue was either in the pea coat locker, lucky bag, or had been reduced to wipe-down rags in the paint locker. Underway ships were NOT ships that allowed vast  accumulation of private gear.

Hobos who lived in discarded refrigerator crates could amass greater

loads of pack-rat crap than fleet sailors. The confines of a

canvas-back rack, side locker, and a couple of bunk bags did NOT allow one to live a Donald Trump existence.

Space and the going pay scale combined to make us envy the lifestyle of a mud-hut Ethiopian. We were global equivalents of nomadic Mongols without ponies to haul our stuff.

And after the rigid routine of boot camp, we learned the skill of random compression, known by mothers world-wide as ‘cramming’. It is amazing what you can jam into a space no bigger than a bread-box if you pull a watch cap over a boot and push it with your foot.

Of course, it looks kinda weird when you pull it out, but they  NEVER hold fashion shows at sea and wrinkles added character to a ‘salty’ appearance.

There was a four-hundred mile gap between the images on recruiting

posters and the ACTUAL appearance of sailors at sea. It was NOT without justifiable reason that we were called the tin-can Navy.

We operated on the premise that if ‘Cleanliness was next to Godliness’ we must be next to the other end of that spectrum…

We looked like our clothing had been pressed with a waffle iron and
packed by a bulldozer. But what in hell did they expect from a bunch of swabs that lived in a crew’s hole of a 2100 Fletcher Class can? After awhile you got used to it… You got used to everything you owned picking up and retaining that distinctive aroma… You got used to old ladies on busses taking a couple of wrinkled nose sniffs of your pea coat, then getting and finding another seat.

Sometimes, I look at all the crap stacked in my garage and home, close my eyes and smile, remembering a time when EVERYTHING I owned could be crammed into that one canvas bag…
Now to try to get back on East Coast time… sigh…

Bait… It’s what’s for Dinner (Again)

Posted on by March 6, 2013


Got drug over to Hayama on Sagami Bay for more sushi tonight.  This little place was truly a hole in the wall, 8 seats all at the bar, no tables, and pretty close to the waterfront.  Two older guys running the place, and I ‘think’ a grandson was the ‘runner’… 


No menu (or at least I never saw one), and absolutely NO Engrish was spoken… In other words, I was at the mercy of the folks I was with…


It was all good, until they did a round of eel, and I just couldn’t handle that one 🙁


Totally different quality from the Sushi Go Round, and it was damn expensive by comparison!!! $750 (roughly) for six people, but I do have to admit I was stuffed!!!


And the kid got sent somewhere for desert, and came back with an interesting little ‘dish’ that was a lemon custard, topped with fresh strawberries, and some kind of chocolate sauce drizzled over that!!! That was truly a great desert, but no way in hell to get the recipe or even confirm what I was eating…LOL


Off to bed, back to the airport am tomorrow, and 12-13 hours later land back home an hour before I take off…


Sorry for the lack of posts, and lack of comments, I’ll be commenting more when I get back this weekend.

On the Road (again)…

Posted on by March 6, 2013


A little humor, considering I spent 13 1/2 hours on an airplane today…


ATC: Alitalia 321, continue taxi to the holding position 20R south via tango. Check for workers along taxiway.
 
Alitalia 321: Roger, 20R via tango. Workers checked, all are working.
_____________
 
Tower: “Delta 351, you have traffic at 10 o’clock, 6 miles!”
Delta 351: “Give us another hint! We have digital watches!”
_______________
Control tower to aircraft that just landed – “Bear right, next intersection”
 
Pilot – “Roger, we have him in sight”
 _______________
 
A student pilot became lost during a solo cross-country flight. While attempting to locate the aircraft on radar, ATC asked, “What was your last known position?”  
 
Student: “When I was number one for takeoff”.
____________
 
ATC – “Cessna XXX, What are your intentions? “
 
Cessna pilot – “To get my Commercial Pilots License and Instrument Rating.”
 
ATC – “I meant in the next five minutes not years.”
______________
 
A student pilot called in and said he was unsure of his position but he had a town in sight. Since we didn’t have him on radar, the controller told him to descend and look for the town’s water tower, see what it said on the side, climb back up and tell him.
Sure enough in about 3 minutes the pilot called back and said, “Approach, I found the water tower”.
The controller, feeling rather pleased, asked “And what did it say on the side?” The pilot replied, “It said Central High Seniors -1978”.
____________
 
Pilot – Outer marker, inbound.
 
Tower – Roger, cleared to land runway 36, winds 270 at 21, gusting 29, heavy rain, severe turbulence below 300, RVR 2,000 feet.
 
Pilot – Roger–cleared to land–and oh, let us know if it gets any worse.
 
Tower – WORSE?!!!
________________ 
 
Tower: “Aircraft on final, go around, aircraft on runway.”
 
Solo Student Pilot: “Roger” (Continues descent.)
 
Tower: “Aircraft, GO AROUND”
 
Student: “Roger”
(Continues descent)
 
Tower: (Screaming) “AIRCRAFT, GO AROUND!! GO AROUND!!”
 
Student: “Roger” (Continues descent.)
 
So, the student pilot plunks his airplane down on the numbers, taxies up to where the twin is sitting in the middle of the runway, GOES AROUND it, and continues on to the taxiway.
__________
Pilot:  “Approach, Cessna 123, request two practice ILS approaches, followed by the published missed to the VOR to hold, a VOR approach, two NDB approaches, and an ASR approach.”
 
Approach: “Cessna 123 squawk 4753 and would you like fries with that, sir?”
__________
Airliner: Approach, what’s our sequence?
 
Approach: Aircraft calling for the sequence, I missed your call-sign, but if I find out what it is, you’re last.

236 Years Young…

Posted on by March 6, 2013
Happy Birthday NAVY!!! 236 years, and actually a bit of progress…  

NAVADMIN 306/11

MSGID/GENADMIN/CNO WASHINGTON DC/N00/OCT//

SUBJ/NAVY BIRTHDAY 2011//

RMKS/1.  ON 13 OCTOBER, THE NAVY CELEBRATES 236 YEARS OF ENDURING  TRADITIONS 
AND MISSIONS THAT HAVE PRESERVED FREEDOM OF THE SEAS AND THE AMERICAN WAY OF 
LIFE.  AS WE CELEBRATE THIS BIRTHDAY, WE CAN  REFLECT ON MORE THAN TWO 
CENTURIES OF WARFIGHTING EXCELLENCE WHILE  SERVING AS A GLOBAL FORCE FOR GOOD.  
THE METTLE AND TENACITY OF THAT  FLEDGLING FIGHTING FORCE ENDURES TODAY IN THE 
MEN AND WOMEN SERVING OUR NAVY AND NATION.

2.  OUR 200 YEAR HERITAGE IS STILL APPARENT TODAY.  AS IT WAS IN 1775, OUR 
PRIMARY JOINT PARTNER IS THE U.S. MARINE CORPS, AND OUR FOCUS IS "WARFIGHTING 
FIRST".  IT IS WHAT OUR NAVY DOES BEST, AND IT  WILL CONTINUE TO BE OUR 
PRIORITY.  SIMILARLY, WE HAVE TO "OPERATE  FORWARD" PROVIDING OUR NATION WITH 
CRITICAL OFFSHORE OPTIONS AND  BRINGING VITAL SECURITY AND STABILITY TO 
MARITIME CROSSROADS AROUND THE WORLD.  FINALLY, AS HISTORY HAS SO OFTEN TAUGHT 
US, WE MUST "BE  READY" TO ADDRESS ANY CHALLENGES, MANY OF WHICH WILL BE 
UNEXPECTED.
 THROUGH ALL THIS, IT IS OUR SAILORS' FIGHTING SPIRIT THAT WILL CONTINUE TO 
ENSURE OUR SUCCESS.

3.  OUR LONG AND ILLUSTRIOUS HISTORY MAKES CLEAR THAT WE CAN OVERCOME  ANY 
OBSTACLE, SEIZE ANY OPPORTUNITY, AND ULTIMATELY PREVAIL NO  MATTER HOW 
DIFFICULT THE CHALLENGES WE FACE.  AS A RESULT OF  UNWAVERING CONTRIBUTIONS OF 
EVERY MEMBER OF OUR NAVY TEAM - OUR  SAILORS, OUR CIVILIANS, OUR RESERVISTS, 
OUR NAVY VETERANS, AND OUR  FAMILIES AT HOME, WE ARE THE FINEST MARITIME FORCE 
THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN.

4.  AS OUR BIRTHDAY IS CELEBRATED AROUND THE GLOBE, I KNOW YOU WILL  CARRY OUR 
PROUD LEGACY WHEREVER YOU GO.  I CANNOT BEGIN TO TELL YOU HOW HONORED AND 
PRIVILEGED I AM TO BE YOUR CHIEF OF NAVAL OPERATIONS.
  HAPPY 236TH BIRTHDAY TO YOU AND TO YOUR FAMILIES.

5.  RELEASED BY ADMIRAL GREENERT, CHIEF OF NAVAL OPERATIONS.//

My FIrst Car MEME…

Posted on by March 6, 2013


ASM826 tagged me with the first car Meme, so here goes…


What was your first car?  Model, year, color, condition


1963 Corvair Monza Spyder (150hp Turbo), it was black with red interior, four speed and leaked oil like a sieve… These pics are from the net, but reverse the colors and that is what I had… Mine wasn’t quite this pristine, I think it had around 10 or 12K on the clock…

What adventures did you have in it, good or bad?  


Well, I was ‘banished’ from the driveway since it leaked oil so bad (even after my Grandfather and I rebuilt it twice, and it always had a weird little turbo ‘bobble’ at the top end that I could never get to smooth out, but after we got through playing with weight distribution, it handled pretty well.  First car I ever drove on a ‘real’ first date, didn’t even get a kiss (hell I was only 15, didn’t really know what to do/expect).  Did better on later dates though 🙂


Worst experience, driving down Hwy 71 to Shreveport right after a rain; jumped out to pass a truck and couldn’t get out of the ‘tracks’ in that old concrete highway to get back in my lane due to the front end floating/hydroplaning at about 90mph AND there was a semi coming the other way…  Finally stomped the brakes, jerked right at the same time, and got enough bite to get back over, then had to stomp it to keep from being a hood ornament on the truck that I’d just passed…


Other ‘bad’ was I ran from and got away from the Sheriff’s Department one night, only to get home and find the Sheriff himself sitting on the front porch talking to my Mother (Lost the car/grounded for 2 months for that one)… sigh…




What happened to it, what’s the end of the story?  


I sold it to a guy on the Texas side, he wrapped it around a telephone pole about a month later (even with the weight jacking, it STILL floated the front end at 90mph); I replaced it with a 66 GTO 389 tri-power, 4 spd, no power/air and BLACK interior (can we say roasted butt???)!


Lemme see… I’ll tag Bayou Renaissance Man, Julie from Jigsaw Thoughts, and Daddy Bear… And… Snigs 🙂

My FIrst Car MEME…

Posted on by March 6, 2013


ASM826 tagged me with the first car Meme, so here goes…


What was your first car?  Model, year, color, condition


1963 Corvair Monza Spyder (150hp Turbo), it was black with red interior, four speed and leaked oil like a sieve… These pics are from the net, but reverse the colors and that is what I had… Mine wasn’t quite this pristine, I think it had around 10 or 12K on the clock…

What adventures did you have in it, good or bad?  


Well, I was ‘banished’ from the driveway since it leaked oil so bad (even after my Grandfather and I rebuilt it twice, and it always had a weird little turbo ‘bobble’ at the top end that I could never get to smooth out, but after we got through playing with weight distribution, it handled pretty well.  First car I ever drove on a ‘real’ first date, didn’t even get a kiss (hell I was only 15, didn’t really know what to do/expect).  Did better on later dates though 🙂


Worst experience, driving down Hwy 71 to Shreveport right after a rain; jumped out to pass a truck and couldn’t get out of the ‘tracks’ in that old concrete highway to get back in my lane due to the front end floating/hydroplaning at about 90mph AND there was a semi coming the other way…  Finally stomped the brakes, jerked right at the same time, and got enough bite to get back over, then had to stomp it to keep from being a hood ornament on the truck that I’d just passed…


Other ‘bad’ was I ran from and got away from the Sheriff’s Department one night, only to get home and find the Sheriff himself sitting on the front porch talking to my Mother (Lost the car/grounded for 2 months for that one)… sigh…


What happened to it, what’s the end of the story?  


I sold it to a guy on the Texas side, he wrapped it around a telephone pole about a month later (even with the weight jacking, it STILL floated the front end at 90mph); I replaced it with a 66 GTO 389 tri-power, 4 spd, no power/air and BLACK interior (can we say roasted butt???)!


Lemme see… I’ll tag Bayou Renaissance Man, Julie from Jigsaw Thoughts, and Daddy Bear… And… Snigs 🙂

Home, for THREE Whole Days…

Posted on by March 6, 2013

4387 miles, no tickets, one new set of windshield wiper blades, and one flat butt… 

11 hours of this crap today… Rain, rain, fog, more rain… Sigh


Work tomorrow, then road (well airplane) trip again on Monday for a week.  I’m gettin too old for this… 


So next week will be light posting and light commenting, but I really AM reading the blogs, I promise!!!

Still on the road…

Posted on by March 6, 2013

Stopped in Nashville and met up with Bayou Renaissance Man and Wing, had a great dinner at a nice little ethnic restaurant called Cafe Bosna, real home cooking!!!


We chatted and Oleg dropped by to say hello and he introduced his Dad who is down visiting.


As usual the conversations went in every direction…LOL


Hated to do it, but a short night was required.


Two AARs are up on Blogorado, one from Jennifer and one from Matt, go check them out and that way I don’t have to cut and paste; I’m tired and suffering from FBS (Flat Butt Syndrome).


Night all…ZZZzzzz