Quote:
Originally Posted by GH85Carrera
One of my buddies is an Air Force brat like me. His dad flew B-52s in the 60s and 1970s. His dad talked about dreading one flight the most. They were fueled up, and had nukes on board ready to go at the end of the runway, waiting for a launch command. It was during the Cuban missile crisis. He said the entire crew cheered when the order to stand down came through. Non of them wanted to be part of WW3 but they were 100% committed to following orders.
He also talked about flight training while he was in his 20s. Since building flight hours is a priority, they would fly around at night in west Texas and New Mexico. At night there are many places where there no towns for miles, and a lone pickup would be driving down the highway miles from anyone. He said they were all just punks, and loved to drop down to 100 feet and fly right over the pickup as they applied power to all the engines. He said often the truck would drive off the road.
Imagine a boring drive at night in a flat desert area. No traffic for 30 minutes in either direction. Then all of a sudden a huge aircraft like a B-52 comes roaring past you from behind and all the racket of 80,000 pounds of thrust. He said they all laughed, and drank a toast the the poor guy at the officers club after a mission.
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I can remember riding in the back of the station wagon as a kid going through the Gallup/Ship Rock area on Saturday mornings, and seeing lots and lots of pick-up trucks in the ditches along side the road.
now it all makes sense.