Our flight into Dover AFB, and on, was on a C141. This is strictly a jet powered Herc. The seats are the same, your feet get cold, your head gets hot, and you can see s*d all.
Now opposite us was a US Airman, PFC or whatever passes for the lowest of the low, wearing his BDUs (best dress?) and going back home Stateside with his fairly new best of British bride.
She was dressed the part: blonde hair, bolero jacket, tight tight pants, and strappy stilletoes.
The flight got off to a good start: 45 min ramp delay with the doors open. Then, once airborne, a 9 hr flight and the loadies wouldn't even let us stretch out in the warmth on top of the pallets.
The temperature was lowered several degrees with the string of blue epiteths from Mrs PFC. It really set up her move to her new homeland
