Post by corsair67 on Sept 13, 2006 11:16:53 GMT 12
From todays Manawatu Standard.
It's chucks away for the Hercules flight
12 September 2006
By CAITLINE McKAY
An Air Force invitation to a Hercules training ride sounds a right lark, but it's not. The last reporter who went onboard passed out.
Yesterday's Manawatu Standard crew, true to form, went white and were covered in beads of sweat within minutes. And we were reaching for the sick bags two nice and thick so the internal muck doesn't soak through.
Only a 90-minute flight to go before solid ground - and I'm willing with all my might for it to be over.
Meanwhile, the Air Force crew are bouncing round working right as rain for this is just another day in the sky office, nothing to it.
A laptop to assist the navigator in the flight deck looks out of place in the 1965 craft. All eyes are on the ground anyway checking for wayward birds and pylons.
Whenuapai flying officer Phil Randerson , of the 40 Squadron, assured us most of the flying of the plane is done manually, so when fancy computer systems fail, the Hercules can remain airborne.
Comforting.
The bi-annual low-level tactical flying exercises for RNZAF 40 Squadron crews have been run at Ohakea airbase for the past week.
For Officer Randerson, this week was about learning to fly tactically in overseas deployments, "in the safest possible way".
The flights are part of routine training for Air Force crew, involving formation flying, night flying, landing on unprepared landing strips and targeted supply drops. Flying at a maximum of 250 feet _ to avoid detection in war - supplies in the form of 40-gallon drums filled with water were dropped out the back at the DZ (drop zone) at Raumai, east of Bulls.
White grenade smoke was set off as the Hercules seemed to make Waiouru in record time (compared with a lowly car). There was a pretend missile attack to dodge. The gargantuan Hercules creaked from side to side.
My head stayed in my lap for the duration of the trip. There's something to be said for keeping one's feet firmly on the ground. Always.
So next time you witness low-level aircraft whipping past your house, just be thankful you're not in it.
Two full sick bags by the end of it isn't an uncommon sight.
Air Force staff remarked as we exited that they didn't realise they'd given us a packed lunch.
I kindly left my "packed lunch" in their office bin.
It's chucks away for the Hercules flight
12 September 2006
By CAITLINE McKAY
An Air Force invitation to a Hercules training ride sounds a right lark, but it's not. The last reporter who went onboard passed out.
Yesterday's Manawatu Standard crew, true to form, went white and were covered in beads of sweat within minutes. And we were reaching for the sick bags two nice and thick so the internal muck doesn't soak through.
Only a 90-minute flight to go before solid ground - and I'm willing with all my might for it to be over.
Meanwhile, the Air Force crew are bouncing round working right as rain for this is just another day in the sky office, nothing to it.
A laptop to assist the navigator in the flight deck looks out of place in the 1965 craft. All eyes are on the ground anyway checking for wayward birds and pylons.
Whenuapai flying officer Phil Randerson , of the 40 Squadron, assured us most of the flying of the plane is done manually, so when fancy computer systems fail, the Hercules can remain airborne.
Comforting.
The bi-annual low-level tactical flying exercises for RNZAF 40 Squadron crews have been run at Ohakea airbase for the past week.
For Officer Randerson, this week was about learning to fly tactically in overseas deployments, "in the safest possible way".
The flights are part of routine training for Air Force crew, involving formation flying, night flying, landing on unprepared landing strips and targeted supply drops. Flying at a maximum of 250 feet _ to avoid detection in war - supplies in the form of 40-gallon drums filled with water were dropped out the back at the DZ (drop zone) at Raumai, east of Bulls.
White grenade smoke was set off as the Hercules seemed to make Waiouru in record time (compared with a lowly car). There was a pretend missile attack to dodge. The gargantuan Hercules creaked from side to side.
My head stayed in my lap for the duration of the trip. There's something to be said for keeping one's feet firmly on the ground. Always.
So next time you witness low-level aircraft whipping past your house, just be thankful you're not in it.
Two full sick bags by the end of it isn't an uncommon sight.
Air Force staff remarked as we exited that they didn't realise they'd given us a packed lunch.
I kindly left my "packed lunch" in their office bin.
