someone sent me this guys story today (everyone here may already have known this):
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Franz_Stigler
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Franz_Stigler
feel good story
- Thread starter Jay
- Start date
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ancona
Praying Mantis
I do recall this story, but it is one that I can read and re-read, each time getting the same shiver. Perhaps there remains a small glimmer of hope for our society.
heres one that gives me goose bumps every time I read it -
This is a story about a P-51 Mustang and its pilot, told by twelve year old Canadian boy in 1967.
It was noon on a Sunday in 1967, about twelve hours after a P-51 Mustang had landed the previous night because the pilot needed to get some rest. The pilot was readying the Mustang to depart. Against the Pipers and Cessnas tied down on the ramp, the P-51 looked huge.
The pilot arrived by cab, paid the driver, and then stepped into the flight lounge. He was an older, gray-haired gentleman who had a rough, but distinguished look about him.
His worn flight jacket had a US flag sewn to the shoulders. He filed a flight plan to Montreal, probably to attend the 1967 Expo Air Show, then went to the plane.
After performing a walk-around to check the old, majestic bird, he returned to the flight lounge to ask for someone to stand by with fire extinguishers while he started the engine.
I was only twelve at the time, but I was allowed to stand by with an extinguisher after brief instructions to point the nozzle at the flames and pull the handle if I saw a fire break out.
The big prop began to rotate, then the Packard-built Merlin engine caught. It was loud. There was no fire, just a loud rumble of the engine, and those of us standing by walked back to the flight lounge.
A few minutes later we heard the pilot doing his pre flight run-up at the end of the runway, out of sight. We all raced from the lounge to the viewing deck on the second story to watch the old fighter take off.
Suddenly we heard a roar and the plane came into view with the tail already off the ground, moving fast down the runway. At about two-thirds of the length of the runway, the Mustang lifted off and we watched as the gear rotated into the wells. As it passed our position, the noise was so loud that we put our hands over our ears. The plane quickly climbed into the haze.
It got quiet again, then we heard the controller talk to the Mustang over the airport tower radio, "Kingston tower calling Mustang." The Mustang pilot acknowledged, "Go ahead Kingston."
"Roger Mustang. Kingston tower would like to advise the circuit is clear for a low level pass." The controller had just invited the pilot to return to the airport and make a high speed, low-level pass!
The Mustang pilot asked, "Kingston tower, do I have permission for a low level pass, east to west, across the field ?"
The controller replied, "Roger Mustang, the circuit is clear for an east to west pass."
"Roger, Kingston, I'm rolling out of 3000 feet, stand by for my pass."
I strained my eyes, watching through the haze to the east. The sound grew from a low rumble to a high-pitched whine, characteristic of big, 2,000 hp Merlin engines. Suddenly, the Mustang burst through the haze. Contrails of condensed air rolled off the wing tips as the bird shot across the field, pulling g's.
It must have been going about 400 mph at less than 150 yards from us. The old pilot saluted us as he flew by.
Then he pulled the bird up and performed several victory rolls as he disappeared out of sight.
It is an incredible memory for me. I'll never forget. Magnificent, World War II American Air Power!
This is a story about a P-51 Mustang and its pilot, told by twelve year old Canadian boy in 1967.
It was noon on a Sunday in 1967, about twelve hours after a P-51 Mustang had landed the previous night because the pilot needed to get some rest. The pilot was readying the Mustang to depart. Against the Pipers and Cessnas tied down on the ramp, the P-51 looked huge.
The pilot arrived by cab, paid the driver, and then stepped into the flight lounge. He was an older, gray-haired gentleman who had a rough, but distinguished look about him.
His worn flight jacket had a US flag sewn to the shoulders. He filed a flight plan to Montreal, probably to attend the 1967 Expo Air Show, then went to the plane.
After performing a walk-around to check the old, majestic bird, he returned to the flight lounge to ask for someone to stand by with fire extinguishers while he started the engine.
I was only twelve at the time, but I was allowed to stand by with an extinguisher after brief instructions to point the nozzle at the flames and pull the handle if I saw a fire break out.
The big prop began to rotate, then the Packard-built Merlin engine caught. It was loud. There was no fire, just a loud rumble of the engine, and those of us standing by walked back to the flight lounge.
A few minutes later we heard the pilot doing his pre flight run-up at the end of the runway, out of sight. We all raced from the lounge to the viewing deck on the second story to watch the old fighter take off.
Suddenly we heard a roar and the plane came into view with the tail already off the ground, moving fast down the runway. At about two-thirds of the length of the runway, the Mustang lifted off and we watched as the gear rotated into the wells. As it passed our position, the noise was so loud that we put our hands over our ears. The plane quickly climbed into the haze.
It got quiet again, then we heard the controller talk to the Mustang over the airport tower radio, "Kingston tower calling Mustang." The Mustang pilot acknowledged, "Go ahead Kingston."
"Roger Mustang. Kingston tower would like to advise the circuit is clear for a low level pass." The controller had just invited the pilot to return to the airport and make a high speed, low-level pass!
The Mustang pilot asked, "Kingston tower, do I have permission for a low level pass, east to west, across the field ?"
The controller replied, "Roger Mustang, the circuit is clear for an east to west pass."
"Roger, Kingston, I'm rolling out of 3000 feet, stand by for my pass."
I strained my eyes, watching through the haze to the east. The sound grew from a low rumble to a high-pitched whine, characteristic of big, 2,000 hp Merlin engines. Suddenly, the Mustang burst through the haze. Contrails of condensed air rolled off the wing tips as the bird shot across the field, pulling g's.
It must have been going about 400 mph at less than 150 yards from us. The old pilot saluted us as he flew by.
Then he pulled the bird up and performed several victory rolls as he disappeared out of sight.
It is an incredible memory for me. I'll never forget. Magnificent, World War II American Air Power!
Unbeatable
Big Eyed Bug
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Nice story Jay.
Speaking of Zee Germans it reminds me of a quote from Hermann Goering, an ace fighter pilot who went on to be a main leader in the Nazi party -
Still works today...
Speaking of Zee Germans it reminds me of a quote from Hermann Goering, an ace fighter pilot who went on to be a main leader in the Nazi party -
Still works today...