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C-130 Pilot Having Fun

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NoahWerka

Happily Unemployed User
Joined
Jul 13, 2004
Posts
107
There I was at six thousand feet over central Iraq, two hundred eighty knots and we're dropping faster than Paris Hilton's panties. It's a typical September evening in the Persian Gulf; hotter than a rectal thermometer and I'm sweating like a priest at a Cub Scout meeting..

But that's neither here nor there. The night is moonless over Baghdad tonight, and blacker than a Steven King novel. But it's 2004, folks, and I'm sporting the latest in night-combat technology. Namely, hand-me-down night vision goggles (NVGs) thrown out by the fighter boys. Additionally, my 1962 Lockheed C-130E Hercules is equipped with an obsolete, yet, semi-effective missile warning system (MWS). The MWS conveniently makes a nice soothing tone in your headset just before the missile explodes into your airplane.

Who says you can't polish a turd? At any rate, the NVGs are illuminating Baghdad International Airport like the Las Vegas Strip during a Mike Tyson fight. These NVGs are the cat's ass. But I've digressed.

The preferred method of approach tonight is the random shallow. This tactical maneuver allows the pilot to ingress the landing zone in an unpredictable manner, thus exploiting the supposedly secured perimeter of the airfield in an attempt to avoid enemy surface-to-air- missiles and small arms fire. Personally, I wouldn't bet my pink ass on that theory but the approach is fun as hell and that's the real reason we fly it.

We get a visual on the runway at three miles out, drop down to one thousand feet above the ground, still maintaining two hundred eighty knots. Now the fun starts. It's pilot appreciation time as I descend the mighty Herk to six hundred feet and smoothly, yet very deliberately, yank into a sixty degree left bank, turning the aircraft ninety degrees offset from runway heading.

As soon as we roll out of the turn, I reverse turn to the right a full two hundred seventy degrees in order to roll out aligned with the runway. Some aeronautical genius coined this maneuver the " Ninety/ Two-Seventy."

Chopping the power during the turn, I pull back on the yoke just to the point my nether regions start to sag, bleeding off energy in order to configure the pig for landing.

"Flaps Fifty!, Landing Gear Down!, Before Landing Checklist!" I look over at the copilot and he's shaking like a cat ********************ting on a sheet of ice. Looking further back at the navigator, and even through the NVGs, I can clearly see the wet spot spreading around his crotch. Finally, I glance at my steely-eyed flight engineer. His eyebrows rise in unison as a grin forms on his face. I can tell he's thinking the same thing I am. "Where do we find such fine young men?" "Flaps One Hundred!" I bark at the shaking cat. Now it's all aimpoint and airspeed. Aviation 101, with the exception there's no lights, I'm on NVGs, it's Baghdad, and now tracers are starting to crisscross the black sky.

Naturally, and not at all surprisingly, I grease the Goodyear's on brick-one of runway 33 left, bring the throttles to ground idle and then force the props to full reverse pitch. Tonight, the sound of freedom is my four Hamilton Standard propellers chewing through the thick, putrid, Baghdad air.

The huge, one hundred thirty thousand pound, lumbering whisper pig comes to a lurching stop in less than two thousand feet. Let's see a Viper do that!

We exit the runway to a welcoming committee of government issued Army grunts. It's time to download their beans and bullets and letters from their sweethearts, look for war booty, and of course, urinate on Saddam's home.

Walking down the crew entry steps with my lowest-bidder, Beretta

92F, 9 millimeter strapped smartly to my side, I look around and thank God, not Allah, I'm an American and I'm on the winning team. Then I thank God I'm not in the Army.

Knowing once again I've cheated death, I ask myself, "What in the hell am I doing in this mess?" Is it Duty, Honor, and Country? You bet your ass. Or could it possibly be for the glory, the swag, and not to mention, chicks dig the Air Medal. There's probably some truth there too. But now is not the time to derive the complexities of the superior, cerebral properties of the human portion of the aviator-man- machine model. It is however, time to get out of this ********************- hole . "Hey copilot clean yourself up! And how's 'bout the 'Before Starting Engines Checklist."

God, I love this job!

Stolen from another board!
 
I'd like to meet the 14 yr old (or 45 yr old virgin) that flew this on his MS Flight sim on his Dell and tell him to stop leading people into believing he is a C130 pilot. This guy is rather creative but I can't help but give a funny look when I read this.....I cant WAIT for a fighter guy to respond.
 
Ever here of OpSec/ComSec dumb--ass! People get killed over ******************** like this. Oh, I forgot, you got your air medal.
 
Probably written by an Active Duty guy since half the flight deck was s^&ting bricks. HaHa !! If you told a co-pilot in the ANG, probably an airline type with 10000 hours, to clean himself up he would have a few explatives for you. The other clue is that he is wearing his 9MM. He probably wears it while walking around the dorms.

33L at Bahgdad is 10000 feet long with the only taxiways at the end, why would he stop in the first 2000 ft? Obvouisly a rookie.

Fighter guys response: "Since I haven't landed in Bahgdad, I can't respond" Kinda like the author.

CLAMBAKE
 
The old "E" model in the story would require one of your engines for help to takeoff in 2000 ft from ORBD.
 
MAGNUM!! said:
sheesh...but you can you takeoff in 2000'? Isn't that more useful??:laugh:

Yes, we can. Anymore questions?

And I think the story was meant to be humorous. Kinda like an old fighter pilot "There I was a story," except without all the hot gay sex that usually comes with them.
 
Last edited:
Deuce130 said:
Yes, we can. Anymore questions?

And I think the story was meant to be humorous. Kinda like an old fighter pilot "There I was a story," except without all the hot gay sex that usually comes with them.

It's only "hot" in the eye of the beholder Deuce. You can come out now.
 
DaveGriffin said:
It's only "hot" in the eye of the beholder Deuce. You can come out now.


Yeah, OK, that's funny - you got me. I was attempting to quote an old SNL skit. It was funny when I wrote it and read it back to myself, but, well, I see your point. Unfortunately, DaveGriffin, I'm not gay (not that there's anything wrong with that) so I won't be joining your support group anytime soon.
 
There you guys go again. Kiss and make up.
 

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