Looking upwards I could see the unmistakable "double engine nacelles", shape and outline of a B52 bomber. I was not that far from RAF Fairford and it was flying in that general direction. Looking online I see that there are several currently over here, presumably as part of the current, ongoing, NATO exercise.
Those are some interesting birds. I trained a bit at Bytheville AFB, Arkansas, a Strategic Air Command base. The 52s flew out of there, was well as the F4 Phantoms. A few fun facts:
When you are on the flight line and a B-52 taxis by, the wingtip landing gear lift off the ground as they turn a corner and pass by you at head level.
When they take off with a load, the wings flutter out at the tip.
They take off with so little rotation that if you are on the other side of the hangars, say in base housing, the first thing you see is the tail rising above the hangars.
All four trucks of the aircraft are steerable. In a crosswind, the aircraft can be crabbed upwind and the gear aligned and they will touchdown crabbed and wait for the speed to drop before they return to a normal axial orientation.
Bob
"It is said, 'Go not to the elves for counsel for they will say both no and yes.' "
Frodo Baggins to Gildor Inglorion, The Fellowship of the Ring
They do laps of Aus eastern side and top end normally into Darwin to land AFAIK they don't worry about Western Au as far as the Eastern states are concerned we don't exist in fact of the 2 weeks we were away over east in Qld W.A only got mentioned once on the Qld 7 news for the Bunbury tornado apart from that nothing not even the weather !
And they wonder why there is a rift, take all our iron ore profits, gas & diamonds to Canberra and don't even consider us part of Australia makes one pretty sad in a way being myself a born and bred Sand Groper.
I feel for you. Different reasons up here but we have the ‘red’ states and the ‘blue’ states. It seems if you have a ranch or a farm or a small business or live in a small town (or have the same values) and live in a blue state…. You’re up sh#t creek without a paddle.
But the Buffs are still cool and relevant somehow…hopefully like most of us.
Now now Cinders, between you and Bindi you make my eyes water.......with laughter.
We have been undercutting the rabbit proof fence for years,trying to create a moat to keep you out.
Just like those bleeding Taswegians, still have not managed to cut the chains and let them float over to NZ.
As long as you remember to sign the visitors book and get your visa stamped.
Looking upwards I could see the unmistakable "double engine nacelles", shape and outline of a B52 bomber. I was not that far from RAF Fairford and it was flying in that general direction. Looking online I see that there are several currently over here, presumably as part of the current, ongoing, NATO exercise.
Yes, four of them arrived last week, for their regular bomber deployment exercises.
One of them went tech though yesterday, squawking 7700 while out over the Atlantic heading to the Bay of Biscay in a pair that departed Fairford at sunrise, and so returned and was seen doing lots of circles just off the coast of Cornwall burning off fuel to get the weight down to land back at Fairford.
Just the thing for putting round holes in square heads.
The son of a friend of mine was posted to Minot for three years and told us of all the cart starts, elephant walks, and MITOs he saw.
City & AFB motto: "Why Not Minot?"
Standard reply: "Freezin' the reason!"
Old SAC LOOKING GLASS (airborne command post) guy here. Remoted to Minot (some wags pronounced it "mee-no"...as in "set sail that day for a three hour tour") for SAC's 1981 worldwide GLOBAL SHIELD exercise. This was the biggest exercise SAC had run to date.
As the GLASS ship we would always be parked on the alert pad "Christmas Tree's*" first parking slot just inside the throat to the NW end of Runway 13. It was our JOB to be the first jet to launch on receipt of a war order.
* Removed decades ago by the Clintonistas.
Early Feb '81. Outside air temp -76°F with windchill -87°F. That's cold, brother.
We knew the exercise was underway but hadn't been launched yet. Sitting around in the alert facility waiting for the klaxon. I was mission commander on our jet and had a bit of leeway in...things...or at least thought I did. Anyway, all crewmen were ready in our Nomex flight suits, long johns underneath, flying boots with heavy sox, winter gloves or mittens, etc.
Back in the '60s I'd been in the Civil Air Patrol, which then and now receives hand-me-down junk the AF no longer needs. At some time there I picked up a pair of very old (even then) but serviceable F1B parka trousers, so along with my issued N-3B parka was in pretty good shape, weather-wise. Most of the other guys had never even seen parka trousers.
Klaxon sounds. Drop your c*cks and grab your sox, dash for the jet. Did I mention it was COLD, brother? Crew climbs aboard, and because this was a scramble start, no AGE but rather the 40mm start(er) cart(ridge). Fire first cart...engine sorta turns over but doesn't start. Shît. Regs say max two start carts, so crew chief loads second cartridge. Fires off...lots of smoke...engine still dead.
Forgot to mention we were held up for about four minutes when we first arrived at the jet. Everybody's running like mad to get there when I notice the 20-year-old crew chief (who was excellent at this job) was wearing only his Nomex suit and a short-waisted issue parka. No gloves. Snorkel hood down. Bare head. Ahhh...the confidence of youth.
I yelled at him to ask what the hell he was doing in that getup; short argument ensued before I ordered him back into the alert facility to get some damned clothes on. He did so in record time and got back to the jet just in time to load the second start cartridge.
OK, two big bangs from the start carts and engine still no go. Limit is two. Hmmm, this is simulated global thermonuclear war, and we have a critical job to do (really). Let's try one more start cart. No joy, but again a lot of smoke. OK, let's try another. Then another. Five 40mm start carts and the damned engine wouldn't start (only one of the four engines was equipped with the start cart setup).
By this time we, who were supposed to be the first jet down the runway and into the air are sitting silent (except for the cussing inside) while the normal tankers roll by for their MITO. The BUFFs roll, but of course don't take off since they're armed with live nukes.
Soon we're all alone on the alert Christmas Tree. Sulking. The "war" was underway and we'd probably miss it. Called for a tow to a heated hangar (yep, Minot had several heated hangers). Four and half hours later the jet had warmed up enough to get the engines started using normal AGE (not start carts). Just began to taxi away from the hangar when the coded message arrived the war was over and all aircraft RTB.
So that's what your daddy did in the war, son. I was hopin' to shovel **** in Louisiana, but this was the hand I was dealt.
Great story tj! Thank you for your service and sharing your story, especially about the dedicated young crew chief who was in danger of frostbite or even worse, losing body parts in that frigid temperature. The RCAF had WEE (Winter Experimental Establishments) bases early in the Cold War to determine best practices to be able to keep up a high operational tempo no matter the weather conditions as it was expected the USSR would be sending their bombers over the Arctic. The bitterly cold conditions at these bases in Winter prompted one wag to write a tongue-in-cheek poem pertaining to the loss of a certain body part due to frostbite.
Now listen all you hangar men,
who've never seen the North,
You've sat upon your buttocks
and watched us sally forth,
Now when the next time comes around,
you'll have to show your face,
For those that went up last time
are going to stay at base.
Singing--who'll go up this time?
Who'll go the noo?
The boys who went up last time
canna go a noo.
PM
Originally Posted by CINDERS
