by T I WADE
“Then we can leave the bed and Sally can stay in my room,” he suggested.
“I’m sure that is not the most important thing on Sally’s mind right now,” replied Preston, walking up the stairs and beckoning Carlos to follow him. “If you can get Sally into your room, I say ‘well done.’ You need a decent girlfriend. But I bet you $500 that you can’t do it before you leave the farm in the New Year?”
“Bet on that, Senor Strong. I love a dangerous mission and I will be happy to take your money before next year!”
“Maybe she’s gay!” laughed Preston. “I’ll bet you hadn’t thought of that angle.” Preston walked into the third room and grabbed hold of one side of the queen mattress.
* * *
Martie arrived an hour later with food and a bottle of wine, hugged Carlos, and was happy to be told that the beds had been changed. The two men were sitting in the house lounge and were just opening two beers. “I have the booze for the party arriving tomorrow morning,” she stated, hugging Preston and giving him a sweet, longer than usual, kiss on the lips just to piss off Carlos.
“You know I can’t stand all that romance between you two, Martie,” objected Carlos.
“Then you shouldn’t look,” was her response. “It’s time you found your own woman.”
“Oh!” He replied. “I intend to, and win money from your husband-to-be soon, too!”
“As long as the bet is not over my best friend, Sally?” remarked Martie, looking stern. The two men winked at each other. “I hear she’s bringing protection for hot-headed men like you, Carlos,” she laughed, going into the kitchen with her shopping. She came out with a glass of red wine and sat down with the two men in the lounge. “So when are all the pilots getting in?” she then asked Preston.
“Captain Powers and her friend Captain Watkins are expected in Sunday afternoon. She is currently at Hill AFB in Salt Lake and the storm Carlos got out in front of has delayed them a day. She was due in tomorrow afternoon.”
“What is she doing in Salt Lake City?” asked Carlos. “And her Pilatus is from Switzerland and should already be primed for winter conditions, no?” Preston shrugged his shoulders.
“She told me that she wasn’t coming in the Pilatus,” interjected Martie, and the two men looked at her inquisitively.
“Then what are she and her friend coming in?” asked Preston.
“A surprise,” replied Martie. “She wouldn’t even tell me, but she wanted the exact length of the runway, as well as runoff area at each end. I told her 2,690 feet plus a 100-foot run off on either end, and no trees over 30 feet in height for a second 100 feet.”
“It’s actually 2,670 feet of asphalt and if she uses the run-off area, there go my end lights. I was thinking of adding a few more feet so that Sally could visit us in her new government F-16-convertible,” smiled Preston. “But I know that Sally’s not coming in with her buddy and two F-16s to crash our party. I know she could get into the airfield using a drag chute to brake, and could get out with full afterburner and destroy my whole hangar, but I know that Uncle Sam does not loan out F-16s as Christmas rentals.”
“She told me to expect her in something old and interesting,” replied Martie.
“I bet it’s her Pilatus and she’s just pulling our strings,” chuckled Carlos.
“My father and grandfather are arriving on Sunday morning,” said Martie. “They’re flying into Huntsville to visit some retired NASA friends of theirs on Saturday, flying south of the storm, staying overnight and then taking a couple of hours to get here. I was told to have lunch ready.”
“Buck and Barbara are flying in solo with both Baby Huey and Lady Dandy tomorrow,” added Preston. “They are coming in a day early to miss the storm. Barbara, Buck told me, just got her Huey rating and Buck is flying Lady Dandy.”
“The Huey must be fun to fly compared to her Cessna work truck,” said Carlos.
“What does Barbara usually fly?” asked Martie.
“A Cessna Citation V out of Phoenix, I think,” replied Preston. “I wouldn’t mind a few hours on her work truck,” laughed Preston “Nor would you, Carlos and you, Martie!” They both nodded their agreements. “Now, I have a surprise for you, Carlos. Tomorrow morning, our land army and airfield protection unit arrives to join us.”
“You mean we are having a ‘drive-in’ as well?” asked Carlos.
“I suppose you could call it that,” remarked Preston, going into the kitchen to refill Martie’s wine and get two cold Yuenglings. “I was going to surprise everyone with ground troops in place before you all arrived, but your early arrival screwed that up a bit.” Preston told Carlos about the two rat patrol jeeps Carlos had already seen once before, and the newly invited British armored cars and Saracen army personnel carrier. Carlos was impressed and asked the big question.
“Uh, where is everyone going to sleep?”
“Don’t you worry, Carlos, you will not have a dozen men sleeping in your bed and cramping your style with the single women,” laughed Martie. “I made sure that Joe’s house will be full of men, including all his boys and David—the new guy who owns the new hardware. He’s Jewish and got all of his antiques in Israel. If the single girls get bored with your antics, David is pretty good looking for an older man.”
They had a couple more drinks over dinner but like most pilots who had been flying all day, Carlos was tired and turned in a little after nine.
Breakfast had just ended the next morning when the army paraded down the driveway. Joe and his eldest son drove the jeeps in convoy with the tractor trailer between them that had an armored car and the Saracen on it. They were quickly off-loaded and the convoy returned an hour later with the second armored car, a few minutes after the delivery truck Martie had expected with the booze supply for the party arrived from a local wine store. The wine shop owner had picked up Martie’s liquor purchases at the ABC store on the way. He did look twice at the armored car and other armored vehicle standing alone next to the “Yellow Devil” on the apron, and said that they certainly weren’t American. He was the last expected outside visitor, and from then on Preston’s farm was off limits to anybody other than invited guests.
Once the convoy left, Preston gave Joe an automated gate controller to get in and out for the rest of the holiday season. All David’s equipment was put on display around the apron where the incoming aircraft were expected to be on display, and next to the Yellow Devil, which was not officially part of the fly-in. Once everything was in place and the small mountain of cases of wine and alcohol had been put away, Martie went in to start lunch.
Three hours later, the unmistakable sound of a helicopter pierced the air and Baby Huey flew overhead from the north. Preston had been waiting for this, and was carrying around his hand radio so that he could talk Barbara down since she and Buck had never been here before.
He told her that there was a slight wind in from the north and that she should approach from the south and land just off the runway; on the apron and far away from the hangar in case she started a dust storm. The ground was dry.
Barbara came in as instructed and landed the helicopter just where Preston wanted it, on the outer area of the apron facing north. Then Buck came on the radio to say that he was still a few minutes out and that he had heard the weather report Preston had given Barbara and that he would also be coming in from the south. Preston recited the lay of the airfield to Buck and told him the tree distances and that Buck could put her down, if he wanted to, on the 50-odd feet of dirt directly between the runway lights and the start of the asphalt because the extra yards would give him more than enough room. Buck replied that he would work on the beginning of the asphalt as the DC-3 came into view a mile south, its wheels already down for landing.
Everybody heard the deep noise of the larger DC-3 engines, and the growing group of aircraft enthusiasts watched as Buck superbly put the much larger aircraft down, touching the asphalt only feet from the runway end, applying brakes, and then putting the engines i
nto reverse thrust. He came to a squealing stop about a hundred feet from the northern end of the runway and turned Lady Dandy around to return to the apron. By this time, Barbara had already introduced herself to Martie, Preston, Carlos, Joe, and David, who immediately offered to help her gather her suitcase from the Huey.
The DC-3 approached, and Preston used signal batons, like those used at bigger airports, to guide Buck in. He made Buck continue on the runway, pass the apron, and then guided him around Baby Huey, onto the grass, and then back onto the apron between the hangar and his beloved helicopter. Preston lifted his batons to stop as Buck’s tail wheel mounted the tar of the apron and he parked next to his other dream.
Once again, everybody was introduced by Martie. Even though Preston and Buck had been radio buddies for many years, they had never met, and it was a long handshake as they finally got to meet each other. A tour through the aircraft in the hangar was given for the two newcomers, and since all airport arrivals were done for the day, the first fly-in drinks and music got underway.
Early the next morning for the late risers and just after ten, Martie heard what she was waiting for. She ran outside the hangar just in time to see a Pilatus fly over the airfield from the southwest at a low altitude and then disappear behind the trees to reappear a minute later, coming in for final approach from the southeast over the lake.
“I thought Sally had a surprise for us!” shouted Preston to Martie. Carlos also looked puzzled.
“That’s not Sally!” Martie shouted back, smiling as the single-engine turboprop came in fast on final approach, her wheels already down for landing. That’s my father!”
The Pilatus, pretty quiet for a powerful turboprop came in, touched down gracefully and took no more tarmac than either Preston or Martie normally used in the P-51s. It turned around slowly at the end of the runway, glided towards the waiting crowd, and onto the apron in front of the hangar.
Again, Preston guided the pilot with his fancy batons, but this time he parked the Pilatus next to the hangar and on the north side facing the helicopter and DC-3 on the south side of the apron. Everyone— including Joe, David, Buck, and Barbara—who had come out of the hangar door and was now watching, waited until the propeller came to a stop before going forward. The rear door opened a minute later and Michael Roebels‘s face appeared as the steps unfolded from inside the aircraft.
Martie rushed up, giving her father her usual bear hug, and then climbed in and disappeared to help her grandfather. She emerged a few minutes later helping a much older man with pure white hair down the short flight of stairs, and then the older man held onto both Martie and his son’s arms as the three Roebels walked over to greet the group. There was much hand shaking and introductions, but Preston and Carlos were still puzzled about why they had switched aircraft with Sally.
Joe was happy to see Grandpa Roebels again and vice-versa. The old man surveyed the vehicles placed around the apron with pleasure and Joe explained each one, telling him about his meeting with David, while the others looked on. Buck then offered him a tour of Lady Dandy and Baby Huey and the new arrivals were given the VIP tour treatment.
“Yesterday, we flew down to Yuma in the Beechcraft,” explained Michael as he, his father, Martie, Preston, and Carlos slowly walked across the apron to the house and the others went back to the hangar to settle in. “Sally called us a few days ago, knowing that I had done some training on the Pilatus a couple of years ago in Europe. I had nearly purchased one but didn’t like the price tag. Before I went over, I got flight certified on the Pilatus down in San Diego, so that I could test-fly it, and I was excited about the potential of flying it from Ireland to Canada with a long-range fuel bladder in her. But, it wasn’t to be, and when I heard Sally had purchased one, called her up and got the rundown on her new toy. Then she called me back a couple of weeks later and asked me if I was interested in flying it to the fly-in. She could not, had some other mission with the Air Force and she knew that it would be far shorter for Grand Pa-Pa in the faster Pilatus than our Beechcraft. It took three hours off our usual flight time and was non-stop into Huntsville, saving us an extra refueling stop in Austin.”
“Well, that answers half our question,” replied Preston, opening the front door of the house. “Martie will get you into your usual rooms and I’ll go get your suitcases. But, do you know what the rest of her plan is?” he asked Michael.
“Nobody knows, and I think it’s meant to be a surprise for you, Preston,” laughed Michael.
“A big surprise,” added Grandpa Roebels, enjoying the reaction on Preston’s and Carlos’ faces as he followed his daughter into the guest room.
“I bet he knows,” laughed Carlos, as they went outside to collect the suitcases from the Pilatus.
“It better not be bloody F-16s,” replied Preston, now worried. “Their afterburners might burn up my hangar on take-off.”
“I bet you $500 it’s not F-16 Falcons,” added Carlos as they got to the steps of the aircraft. Preston would not take the bet, but they did spend half an hour looking over Sally’s new toy and it was as beautiful as she had described it to them. Preston then got the tractor started and attached it to the rear of the Pilatus and pulled her around at an angle so that she faced in a direction in which she could get out.
* * *
It was Sunday afternoon, December 23rd and Preston would not stop pacing. Carlos watched him from the cold porch, a blanket over him and an electric heater in front of his legs.
“She’s coming when she’s coming,” stated Carlos taking a sip from the glass of red wine in his right hand and smiling at his friend’s anxiety—or was it inquisitiveness from not knowing was about to happen? He had never seen Preston like this. Being an engineer like the rest of them, he should be analytical and just accept what was going to land in the extremely capable hands of Sally Powers.
Carlos just knew that he would marry this captain of a girl—a girl he had been in love with since the second he laid eyes on her several years ago. Yes, he had had one or two other girlfriends since then, but unfortunately for the girls, they did not mean as much as his “little fly-girl” as he mentally called her, and now his “little F-16 Falcon fighter pilot.”
When he had met her, he was a more competent pilot than she was, he flying more advanced aircraft like turboprops and jets. She was still beginning on turboprops and learning on C-130s, and suddenly he knew what she was coming in with. He heard the deep rumble of powerful C-130 engines far off in the distance, just above the faint rumble of the diesel generator behind the barn on the other side of the field. “Hey Preston,” shouted Carlos jumping up. “I’ll help you move the lights. You have a C-130 coming in.”
“A C-130!?” replied Preston, his face going ash white as he now heard the grumbling engines getting closer. “Sally can’t land that here. The runway is several hundred feet too short,” he shouted out to Carlos, who was already running to the tractor to start it up. Carlos hadn’t driven down the runway 20 yards with Preston hanging on behind him before a C-130 aimed itself down the runway from the north directly towards them, less than half a mile away and only a couple of hundred feet above the trees. And that wasn’t all. There was a second C-130 in formation just off her starboard wing. The radio on Preston’s belt crackled and came to life.
“Hi there Preston,” both men heard Sally say. “Nice of you to meet me with your tractor in the middle of the runway. What sort of airfield are you running down there? Now be a good bunch of boys and go and move your lights from either end of your piece of black top, and give me a wind speed and ground temperature reading. I’ve got everything else I need and I’ll put this baby down for you. By the way, that’s my friend Jennifer in the 130 next to me. You are not seeing double. Oh, and hello, darling Carlos. I see Preston has upgraded your abilities to driving tractors now.” Sally laughed as the first C-130 roared very low overhead.
Carlos turned around and saw Preston still looking worried behind him as they came to the end of
the runway. It took a few seconds and the end lights were easily moved before they could be mowed down by some unforgiving aircraft. Preston picked up the whole unit plus the weights over the feet on the ground and moved them to the side out of the way. Then he and Carlos rushed off in the opposite direction to the other end of the airstrip and did the same. Carlos could see the two aircraft at about 1,000 feet over Jordan Lake, doing lazy circles a couple of miles away.
“Doesn’t she need 3,000 feet minimum?” Preston asked Carlos as they were on their way back to get the information for Sally. Carlos shrugged as Martie came on the hangar radio.
“Hi, Sal darling. Wind is straight down the runway from the northwest at 6 knots, gusting to 10 maximum, temperature 49 degrees and chilly. The circus act will be off the runway in a second so turn onto finals and I’ll give our fire truck team, Preston and Carlos, a bucket of water each and they can come and put your fire out if you can’t stop on our little piece of tarmac. Out.”
“Roger, old girl,” replied an upbeat Sally. “This baby is empty, I’ve landed 130s onto shorter runways than yours and I’ll try not to leave any skid marks. Jennifer is just as good as me and I’ll be ready for a glass of wine shortly. Turning into finals now. Jen, circle and wait till I’m down and clear of the runway. I think I’ll park over in that clearing we saw on the north end and let you get in before we taxi back. There isn’t much room down there for us big Air Force gals, but there are single men waiting for us.”
“Roger, partner,” replied Jennifer, and she watched as the other aircraft turned into her final approach. Normally, in a more modern C-130, there would be an engineer and a co-pilot to help the pilot into small fields, but this time and with older and less complicated aircraft to fly, they were both on their own.
