Cold War Controller: Air Force Shenanigans by Penley David N

Author:Penley, David N. [Penley, David N.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: History, Military, Aviation, Biography & Autobiography, Personal Memoirs, Psychology, Mental Health
ISBN: 9781460264454
Publisher: FriesenPress
Published: 2015-05-23T16:00:00+00:00

The author with TRN 26 TACAN beacon at Camp Garland

During the first leg to Yellowknife the pilots stay low level VFR. We flew at a thousand feet (and sometimes less). I was on headset in the back for most of the trip looking out the waist window. The flight deck crew could see ahead and point out to each other the giant herds of caribou and the ubiquitous packs of wolves that followed the herd to cull the weak animals. I saw the herds as they passed below and to the side from my vantage point, the pilot frequently circling around lower to get a good view. Obviously he was not on a tight schedule that day and we all enjoyed the fun in the trip with a party-like atmosphere prevailing on board. I got up to the flight deck a few times and was impressed by the speed at which the terrain appeared to zooms by below us as we flew at 320 knots at this low height. The arctic barrens seemed endless, mottled as far as the eye can see on either side with stunted patches of trees interspersed with innumerable small, frozen lakes.

We landed in Yellowknife for ten minutes to drop off some passengers. We then took off again to complete the last leg to Edmonton. After finally arriving back in my PMQ, I spent a whole half hour in heaven when I got into the shower. It felt magnificent and I simply could not believe the joy in this simple pleasure as two weeks worth of grime floated down the drain.

***

Two weeks later to the day I arrived back at Camp Garland for my second two-week stint. There had been a fire since I’ve been gone. The flying kitchen truck and its marquee tent had burned to the ground. Nobody was killed but there had been some burns. The guys barely saved the main mess tent. Many of the ground crew later applied to write off some of their kit, allegedly burned in the fire. This way, after the mission, while returning kit to clothing stores, they got to keep their mukluks and sleeping bags. It was common to hear the question: “Where is your sleeping bag?” and the reply, “Oh, that? Well yeah, it got lost in the fire.”

Some goof had tried to refuel the Herman Nelson heater while it was running to save a little time, a definite no-no according to the manuals, which specified that the heater must be shut off during refuelling. I wouldn’t have wanted to be his ass.

I did another two weeks at the camp. This time I was much healthier and more sober. Although I drank a couple of beers with the guys in the evenings down at the mess tent, I did not get drunk, nor had any episodes of withdrawal. During the daylight hours I revelled again in the magnificence of the arctic barrens in winter. I took care of my minimal duties early and spent the

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