There is ALWAYS a choice!
Yep, there was...resign. As a young F/O I nearly did. I've told this before, but it's worth repeating I guess.
Viscount. No radar fitted. LHR to Spain
Night after night being flashed and banged at. No communication due to static. No chance of conversation due hail noise on screens.
One particulary bad night we took 45 mins on one 20 min leg. Total flight nearly an hour longer than planned.
Thrown below Min Safety over the Pyrenees. Repeated full range application of controls. Horizon bar off the scene...top and bottom, time and time again. Passengers unstrapping to kneel and prey. Sick and blood dripping from the ceiling.
When we got there the captain told me to hurry to do the turnround cos we were late! I finally persuaded him to let me re-plan over Marseilles. As mentioned above, these things move quickly, and in no time we were in it again.
After another thrashing we popped out of cloud into post frontal clear air. We could see the lights of Paris from 200 miles away. Skipper told me to fly cos he was knakkerd. He pushed a cigarette into his mouth and struck his Zippo. At that precise second, we were struck by a single bolt which blew a 4" hole in the starboard wing. I had seen it coming. It popped out of the higher region of a vast Chinese lantern that was way behind us. Zig Zagged up for what must have been a mile...then came streight for our wing...yep, like a finger of God. The burn went round the fuel bags and came out in line with the top hole.
To this day I have the clearest memory of the skipper's face, his eyes bulging in his ashen face which was illuminated by the little flame from the Zippo. "Did I do that?" type of expression.