Something to think about....
Thread Starter
Join Date: Mar 2005
Location: Brisbane
Posts: 82
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Something to think about....
Heres is a little something I found recently.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the age of the 707 / DC8 / 727 / DC9
Those were the good ole days. Pilots back then were men that didn't want
to be women or girlymen. Pilots all knew who Jimmy Doolittle was. Pilots
drank coffee, whiskey, smoked cigars and didn't wear digital watches.
They carried their own suitcases and brain bags like the real men that
they were. Pilots didn't bend over into the crash position multiple times
each day in front of the passengers at security so that some Gov't agent
could probe for tweezers or fingernail clippers or too much toothpaste.
Pilots did not go through the terminal impersonating a caddy pulling a
bunch of golf clubs, computers, guitars, and feed bags full of tofu and
granola on a sissy-trailer with no hat and granny glasses hanging on a
pink string around their pencil neck while talking to their personal
trainer on the cell phone!!!
Being an Airline Captain was as good as being the King in a Mel Brooks
movie. All the Stewardesses (aka.Flight Attendants) were young,
attractive, single women that were proud to be combatants in the sexual
revolution. They didn't have to turn sideways, grease up and suck it in to
get through the cockpit door. They would bl us h and say thank you when told
that they looked good, instead of filing a sexual harrassment claim.
Junior Stewardesses shared a room and talked about men.... with no
thoughts of substitution.
Passengers wore nice clothes and were polite, they could speak AND
understand English. They didn't speak gibberish or listen to loud gangsta
rap on their IPods. They bathed and didn't smell like a rotting pile of
garbage in a jogging suit and flip-flops. Children didn't travel alone,
commuting between trailer parks. There were no mongolhordes asking for a
'mu-fuggin' seatbelt extension or a Scotch and grapefruit juice cocktail
with a twist.
If the Captain wanted to throw some offensive, ranting jerk off the
airplane, it was done without any worries of a lawsuit or getting fired.
Axial flow engines crackled with the sound of freedom and left an
impressive black smoke trail like a locomotive burning soft coal. Jet fuel
was cheap and once the throttles were p us hed up they were left there,
after all it was the jet age and the idea was to go fast (run like a
lizard on a hardwood floor). Economy cruise was something in the
performance book, but no one knew why or where it was. When the overspeed
clacker went off no one got all tight and scared beca us e Boeing/Douglas
built it out of iron, nothing was going to fall off and that sound had the
same effect on real pilots then as Viagra does now for those new age guys.
There was very little plastic and no composites on the airplanes or the
Stewardesses' pectoral regions. Airplanes and women had eye pleasing
symetrical curves, not a bunch of ugly vortex generators, ventral fins,
winglets, flow diverters, tatoos, rings in their nose, tongues and
eyebrows.
Airlines were run by men who had built their companies virtually from
scratch, knew many of their employees by name and were lifetime airline
employees themselves..not pseudo financiers and bean counters who flit
from one occupation to another for a few bucks, a better parachute or a
fancier title while fervently believing that they are a class of beings
unto themselves.
And so it was back then....and never will be again.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the age of the 707 / DC8 / 727 / DC9
Those were the good ole days. Pilots back then were men that didn't want
to be women or girlymen. Pilots all knew who Jimmy Doolittle was. Pilots
drank coffee, whiskey, smoked cigars and didn't wear digital watches.
They carried their own suitcases and brain bags like the real men that
they were. Pilots didn't bend over into the crash position multiple times
each day in front of the passengers at security so that some Gov't agent
could probe for tweezers or fingernail clippers or too much toothpaste.
Pilots did not go through the terminal impersonating a caddy pulling a
bunch of golf clubs, computers, guitars, and feed bags full of tofu and
granola on a sissy-trailer with no hat and granny glasses hanging on a
pink string around their pencil neck while talking to their personal
trainer on the cell phone!!!
Being an Airline Captain was as good as being the King in a Mel Brooks
movie. All the Stewardesses (aka.Flight Attendants) were young,
attractive, single women that were proud to be combatants in the sexual
revolution. They didn't have to turn sideways, grease up and suck it in to
get through the cockpit door. They would bl us h and say thank you when told
that they looked good, instead of filing a sexual harrassment claim.
Junior Stewardesses shared a room and talked about men.... with no
thoughts of substitution.
Passengers wore nice clothes and were polite, they could speak AND
understand English. They didn't speak gibberish or listen to loud gangsta
rap on their IPods. They bathed and didn't smell like a rotting pile of
garbage in a jogging suit and flip-flops. Children didn't travel alone,
commuting between trailer parks. There were no mongolhordes asking for a
'mu-fuggin' seatbelt extension or a Scotch and grapefruit juice cocktail
with a twist.
If the Captain wanted to throw some offensive, ranting jerk off the
airplane, it was done without any worries of a lawsuit or getting fired.
Axial flow engines crackled with the sound of freedom and left an
impressive black smoke trail like a locomotive burning soft coal. Jet fuel
was cheap and once the throttles were p us hed up they were left there,
after all it was the jet age and the idea was to go fast (run like a
lizard on a hardwood floor). Economy cruise was something in the
performance book, but no one knew why or where it was. When the overspeed
clacker went off no one got all tight and scared beca us e Boeing/Douglas
built it out of iron, nothing was going to fall off and that sound had the
same effect on real pilots then as Viagra does now for those new age guys.
There was very little plastic and no composites on the airplanes or the
Stewardesses' pectoral regions. Airplanes and women had eye pleasing
symetrical curves, not a bunch of ugly vortex generators, ventral fins,
winglets, flow diverters, tatoos, rings in their nose, tongues and
eyebrows.
Airlines were run by men who had built their companies virtually from
scratch, knew many of their employees by name and were lifetime airline
employees themselves..not pseudo financiers and bean counters who flit
from one occupation to another for a few bucks, a better parachute or a
fancier title while fervently believing that they are a class of beings
unto themselves.
And so it was back then....and never will be again.
Economy cruise was something in the
performance book, but no one knew why or where it was
performance book, but no one knew why or where it was
.Gold though, too true in many ways.
morno
Gold!!!
Thread Starter
Join Date: Mar 2005
Location: Brisbane
Posts: 82
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Another little gem emailed to me today.
Amazing story.
Look carefully at the B-17 and note how shot up it is - one engine dead, tail, horizontal stabilizer and nose shot up… It was ready to fall out of the sky. (This is a painting done by an artist from the description of both pilots many years later.) Then realize that there is a German ME-109 fighter flying next to it. Now read the story below. I think you'll be surprised.....
Charles Brown was a B-17 Flying Fortress pilot with the 379th Bomber Group at Kimbolton, England. His B-17 was called 'Ye Old Pub' and was in a terrible
state, having been hit by flak and fighters. The compass was damaged and they were flying deeper over enemy territory instead of heading home to Kimbolton.
After flying the B-17 over an enemy airfield, a German pilot named Franz Steigler was ordered to take off and shoot down the B-17. When he got
near the B-17, he could not believe his eyes. In his words, he 'had never seen a plane in such a bad state'. The tail and rear section was severely damaged, and the tail gunner wounded. The top gunner was all over the top of the fuselage. The nose was smashed and there were holes everywhere.
Despite having ammunition, Franz flew to the side of the B-17 and looked at Charles Brown, the pilot. Brown was scared and struggling to control his damaged and blood-stained plane.
Aware that they had no idea where they were going, Franz waved at Charles to turn 180 degrees. Franz escorted and guided the stricken plane to, and slightly over, the North Sea towards England. He then saluted Brown and turned away, back to Europe. When Franz landed he told the CO that the plane had been shot down over the sea, and never told the truth to anybody. Brown and the remains of his crew told all at their briefing, but were ordered never to talk about it.
More than 40 years later, Brown wanted to find the Luftwaffe pilot who
saved the crew. After years of research, Franz was found. He had never talked about the incident, not even at post-war reunions.
They met in the USA at a 379th Bomber Group reunion, together with 25 people who are alive now -
all because Franz never fired his guns that day.
Last edited by AnyGivenSunday99; 18th Jul 2009 at 00:54. Reason: Added picture
