And
thus bathed in a golden radiance from above, our pilgrimage was at an
end, and my spirit was truly reborn. And as I basked in the rapture,
God spoketh to me one final time, and He saith, "Lights out on deck.."
In
the Beginning, God created the heavens, and the Aircraft Carrier, and
the seas upon which to float it; and yet there was complete Darkness
upon the face of the earth. And, as we traveled there came to us, as a
voice out of the darkness, an angel of the Lord, saying, "On
centerline, on Glideslope, three quarters of a mile, call the ball." I
reflected upon these words, for I was still yet engulfed in complete
darkness. With deep feeling and doubt overwhelming my countenance, I
glanceth towards my companion at my right hand and saith, "What seeth
thou, trusted friend?", and there was a great silence.
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Gazing in a searching manner and seeing naught, I
raised my voice saying, "Clara..."
And God spoke to me, and He said, "You're low..power". As the Lord saith, so shall it be, and I added power; and lo, the ball riseth up onto the bottom of the Optical Landing System. But it was a tainted red glow, and surely indicateth Satan's own influence. And God spoke to me again saying, "Power.Power..Power!!!!....fly the ball." And lo, the ball riseth up and off the top of the lens, and the great darkness was upon me. |
And the voice of the Angel came to me again, saying,
"When comfortable, twelve hundred feet, turn downwind." Whereupon I
wandered in the darkness, without direction, for surely the ships radar
was beset by demons, and there was great confusion cast upon CATCC, and
there was a great silence in which there was no comfort to be found.
Even my tacan needle spinneth..and lo, there was chaos; my trusted
companion weepeth quietly unto himself and from close behind I heard
weeping and gnashing of teeth of our flock. There was a great turmoil
within my cockpit for a multitude of serpents had crept therein.
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And
though we wandered, as if by Providence I found myself within that Holy
Corridor, and at twelve hundred feet, among my brethren seeking refuge;
and the voice of the Angel of the Lord came to me again, asking of me
my needles, and I raised my voice saying, "Up and centered", and the
voice answered, "Roger, fly your needles.." I reflected upon these
words, and I raised my voice in prayer, for though my gyro indicateth
it not so, surely my aircraft hath been turned upside down. Verily, as
Beelzebub surely wrestled with me, a voice, that of my trusted
companion, saith to me calmly, "Friend...fly thy needles, and find
comfort in the Lord." And lo, with deep trembling in my heart, I did,
and He guideth me to centered glideslope and centerline, though I know
not how it came to be.
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And
out of the great darkness, God spoke to me again saying, "Roger ball"
for now I had faith. And though the ball began to rise at the in close
position, my right hand was full of the Spirit, and it squeeketh off
power and as in a great miracle my plane stoppeth upon the flight deck,
for it hath caught the four wire which God in
his infinite wisdom hath
placed thirty feet further down the flight deck than the three wire.
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And
thus bathed in a golden radiance from above, our pilgrimage was at an
end, and my spirit was truly reborn. And as I basked in the rapture,
God spoketh to me one final time, and He saith, "Lights out on deck.."
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Not
catching an arrester wire, and going careening off the angle, is a
"BOLTER". The word comes from "bolt" - as when a team of horses runs
away with a wagon. I caught a wire 99 times without a bolter.
BTW, the standard call by the LSO when he saw it happening, was BOLTER! BOLTER! BOLTER!, so all aircraft on the landing frequency would know that a bird ahead of them would now have to be fitted into THEIR landing sequence. Not a happy thought. We, the fighters, were always brought down first because we were the most critical on fuel. It was my policy to manage my fuel so as to arrive at the ramp at max allowable fuel. It was a landing weight thing. Night carrier landings separate the men from the boys. The 5 verses above is an old one the VF-143 group, the "Pukin Dogs." I was in the outfit 1957 to 1962. Then I went to VF-121, the training squadron where I trained most of these clowns. I fish with one of guys in the group in Idaho every July, and I am his advisor for all things concerning autos. One time I was next in line when bolter was called out. Not an event I like to remember. The VF-143 squadron adopted its current insignia in 1953, a winged black lion (or a mythical Griffin) on a blue shield. The distinctive squadron name "Pukin' Dogs" came about because the creature’s droopy head and gaping mouth design looked to some observers like a dog vomiting. In the politically correct aftermath of the Tailhook scandal in 1991, the squadron was forced to officially rename itself the "Dogs". This official banishment was widely ignored until Admiral John Mazach, Commander, Naval Air Force U.S. Atlantic Fleet, rescinded the policy in a 1996 speech to the squadron. wikipedia  |