Navy Chief
Senior Member
From my friend, Fred Sanders:
One of the things about the A-7 Corsair II and the F-8 Crusader (identical except that the F-8 flew at the speed of heat, and the A-7 flew at the speed of warm), was that the pilot sat forward, in front of the plane's nose wheel. In other words, if the nose wheel was on the deck, you could be sitting over the ocean.
On the flight deck, the "Taxi Director" is the LAW. You do EXACTLY what he says. He uses flashlights with colored "wands" on the end. You watch the wand; you do what the wand tells you to do. So, knowing that our butt is hanging out front of the nose wheel, at night, they'd taxi us perpendicular to the edge of the boat, so our butt was hanging out over the ocean, just cuz they could do it. I recall looking down, and seeing the Med. Sea under me. At night. ***, where is that ejection handle?? Then they'd give us a hard cut and park us right on the edge of the boat. I could see the guy smiling as I'm sitting over the Med. Sea, at night, sweating bullets.
At the time, I wanted to punch him in the face. Now, I'd kiss him on the forehead; he kept me alive, and did his job. I did mine. His job was to direct the plane and conserve deck space; mine was to do what he told me to do.
I loved them, and I hated them at the same time. They had my life in their hands, and never lost me. But they loved making me pee in my flight suit. Damned Yellow Shirts. The guys were good, but they were mean ***'s, and they loved it.
I'd die for every one of those guys. Flight deck at night; no greater opportunity in the universe to meet God at a moment's notice. Fred S.
One of the things about the A-7 Corsair II and the F-8 Crusader (identical except that the F-8 flew at the speed of heat, and the A-7 flew at the speed of warm), was that the pilot sat forward, in front of the plane's nose wheel. In other words, if the nose wheel was on the deck, you could be sitting over the ocean.
On the flight deck, the "Taxi Director" is the LAW. You do EXACTLY what he says. He uses flashlights with colored "wands" on the end. You watch the wand; you do what the wand tells you to do. So, knowing that our butt is hanging out front of the nose wheel, at night, they'd taxi us perpendicular to the edge of the boat, so our butt was hanging out over the ocean, just cuz they could do it. I recall looking down, and seeing the Med. Sea under me. At night. ***, where is that ejection handle?? Then they'd give us a hard cut and park us right on the edge of the boat. I could see the guy smiling as I'm sitting over the Med. Sea, at night, sweating bullets.
At the time, I wanted to punch him in the face. Now, I'd kiss him on the forehead; he kept me alive, and did his job. I did mine. His job was to direct the plane and conserve deck space; mine was to do what he told me to do.
I loved them, and I hated them at the same time. They had my life in their hands, and never lost me. But they loved making me pee in my flight suit. Damned Yellow Shirts. The guys were good, but they were mean ***'s, and they loved it.
I'd die for every one of those guys. Flight deck at night; no greater opportunity in the universe to meet God at a moment's notice. Fred S.
