Landed our Huey (in the 70s) on the tarmac outside the civil terminal in Tamworth, because that was where the fuel plug was. After the refuel, an F27 Friendship taxies in, and stops quite near to us -access to the plug, and all. Passegers unload, and there will be a 20-minute wait for the load-up and departure.
We can't wait that long, so with the F27 captain's agreement, we crank up for departure.
The Hostesses (as they were called in those days) were standing on the top of the steps, watching us.
Full throttle, 6600 revs, we pull pitch. And the hostie's dresses flip upwards over their heads to make them look like roses. Laughed so hard, could hardly hover taxy away. VERY red faces watching us from inside the cabin, applause from the refueller.
