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Post by flyjoe180 on Dec 9, 2007 12:42:11 GMT 12
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Post by flyjoe180 on Dec 13, 2007 11:41:51 GMT 12
Maverick and Goose felt "the need ... the need for speed" in Top Gun. But I'm just hoping I don't black out, throw up and become deaf as Wing Commander Ted Schneider pilots the Hawk-127 trainer jet into an upwards spiral over Myall Lakes, near Newcastle.
"There they are. At nine o'clock," he says, fixing the bomb sight on another fighter jet carrying a journalist from a rival newspaper.
Meanwhile, my G-suit has inflated so tightly I can barely breathe, let alone tell Schneider to blast them out of the sky.
As Real Top Guns sets out to prove, graduating from fighter-pilot school involves more than slicking back your hair, looking good in a pair of aviator sunnies and pulling out sassy one-liners.
The six-part series on SBS follows six rookie pilots all with quirky nicknames - this seems to be compulsory for fighter pilots - as they guard the Commonwealth Games in Melbourne, play war games over the South China Sea and bomb Queensland.
It costs $7 million to train a fighter pilot and a pass is not guaranteed. To reinforce this point, the real top guns of 76 Squadron at Royal Australian Air Force Base Williamtown agree to take four journalists as passengers.
But first come the medical tests. A lot of mishaps can occur during a fighter-jet dogfight; air sickness, flatulence and sinus trouble, says an air force doctor. He advises us to "shit a watermelon" to avoid fainting from excessive G-forces.
A pre-flight video warns of "castastrophic consequences" if we accidentally knock a lever that opens the cockpit of the Hawk-127 trainer jet. Schneider says it will be so hot we will sweat like pigs at an abattoir. And don't even think of tarting yourself up with hairspray, make-up and moisturiser, he adds. All are potential fire hazards and must be washed off prior to flight. So are nylon jocks.
"Mate, you don't want them melting onto your bits," one pilot tells me.
The former Howard minister and air-force lawyer Jackie Kelly apparently covered a cockpit in vomit on one flight, but "she still came down with a smile on her face," Schneider says.
Schneider and his fellow fighter pilots hope the SBS series, made with the co-operation of the RAAF, helps recruit the next generation of top guns.
Perhaps it will. Chances are it will help with the recruitment of girlfriends for the pilots - there are just six women in 76 Squadron and more than 150 men.
Clash of the egos
It is no surprise to find that there is a bit of good-natured rivalry between fighter pilots and air-force doctors. Both tend to be high achievers, confident and opinionated. Apparently, the doctors view the pilots as precious princesses.
"Oh, have you broken your tiara?" is the first question doctors ask their pilot patients.
There's a joke doctors have at the pilots' expense too. Question: How can you tell if a pilot is at a party? Answer: He's already told you.
Real Top Guns, Wednesday, 8pm, SBSwww.smh.com.au/news/tv--radio/down-to-earth-blokes/2007/12/09/1197135270827.html
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Post by corsair67 on Dec 13, 2007 12:55:37 GMT 12
I forgot that this was on TV last night - thank God I bought the dvd or I'd be in tears now! ;D
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Post by FlyNavy on Dec 13, 2007 13:53:15 GMT 12
In the 1970's RAAF Mirage pilots were referred to as 'handbags' by would-be girlfriends so that said (local) girls could show off their 'handbags' to the rest of 'em. ;D Just thought I would throw that in for all those ex-Miracle drivers out there.   |
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