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This is another memory I wrote a few years ago. While looking in flash drives for a lost chapter of the novel I'm attempting, I found it. Basic stuff, but I've never seen such an emotional display since.
What was the most emotional moment in your life? Women will say it was when you got married or at the birth of your children. Truly, those are emotional events, but for me, it was leaving Viet Nam after first tour.
The military contracted with commercial airlines to transport troops, which was great... except commercial pilots wouldn't circle Da Nang until rocket barrages were over - they returned to the airport they just left and called it a day.
So a plane load of us were "hurrying up and waiting" for the freedom bird at Da Nang when a rocket or mortar barrage began. Having an eye for such things, we pronounced it a trifling affair, especially since it was pretty much at the other end of the air strip.
But the commercial pilot wasn't having any part of it and back to Japan he went.
Rats.
So we laid around for a long time. (can't recall the exact time & don't want to overstate things) Eventually word was passed to get ready - another aircraft was on the way. More hurry up and wait. And wait.
Lo & behold, it finally landed! Didn't take long to load passengers, but it took forever to load baggage. Then it was, "this is the captain speaking - we're 14th in line to depart." Which was depressing, but Da Nang was the busiest airport in the world at the time, so 13 flights were quickly gone. (loaded F-4s would take off 6 abreast)
We could hear the turbines spool up, and after an eternity or two, the plane began to move.
My emotion then? I was scared. Of getting killed or wounded if the plane took fire? No - that mortars or rockets would start falling, and we'd have to get off.
But the plane slowly (TOO slowly, it seemed) rolled down the runway and faced the wind for takeoff. Pilot ran the turbines up against wheel brakes... and we were picking up speed!
We could easily feel the plane leave the runway. Havoc ensued. Guys roared, screamed themselves hoarse, hollered, whistled... and wept openly.
You hump the bush and stand bunker watch with guys for months and months, you think you know them. Not in this case. I saw several hard cases crying. Did I? Ahhh... it's been rather a long time and I no longer recall. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
But why the profound emotion? I'm not sure I can put it into words. Maybe it was the idea I was still alive and was actually going to that place that was beginning to seem fictional - home.
That seems the most likely reason - I was actually going home.
What was the most emotional moment in your life? Women will say it was when you got married or at the birth of your children. Truly, those are emotional events, but for me, it was leaving Viet Nam after first tour.
The military contracted with commercial airlines to transport troops, which was great... except commercial pilots wouldn't circle Da Nang until rocket barrages were over - they returned to the airport they just left and called it a day.
So a plane load of us were "hurrying up and waiting" for the freedom bird at Da Nang when a rocket or mortar barrage began. Having an eye for such things, we pronounced it a trifling affair, especially since it was pretty much at the other end of the air strip.
But the commercial pilot wasn't having any part of it and back to Japan he went.
Rats.
So we laid around for a long time. (can't recall the exact time & don't want to overstate things) Eventually word was passed to get ready - another aircraft was on the way. More hurry up and wait. And wait.
Lo & behold, it finally landed! Didn't take long to load passengers, but it took forever to load baggage. Then it was, "this is the captain speaking - we're 14th in line to depart." Which was depressing, but Da Nang was the busiest airport in the world at the time, so 13 flights were quickly gone. (loaded F-4s would take off 6 abreast)
We could hear the turbines spool up, and after an eternity or two, the plane began to move.
My emotion then? I was scared. Of getting killed or wounded if the plane took fire? No - that mortars or rockets would start falling, and we'd have to get off.
But the plane slowly (TOO slowly, it seemed) rolled down the runway and faced the wind for takeoff. Pilot ran the turbines up against wheel brakes... and we were picking up speed!
We could easily feel the plane leave the runway. Havoc ensued. Guys roared, screamed themselves hoarse, hollered, whistled... and wept openly.
You hump the bush and stand bunker watch with guys for months and months, you think you know them. Not in this case. I saw several hard cases crying. Did I? Ahhh... it's been rather a long time and I no longer recall. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
But why the profound emotion? I'm not sure I can put it into words. Maybe it was the idea I was still alive and was actually going to that place that was beginning to seem fictional - home.
That seems the most likely reason - I was actually going home.
