Twelve Hour Shifts

To be clear, I'm no longer working straight nights.
My shift opposite got his real estate agent's license three years ago.
He's a hard-driver and started working toward getting his broker's license immediately. He had just passed that test when the broker in his office quit.
...Right place at the right time... He's now the new broker, though he knows nothing of the job. (Boy, does that sound like someone else right now!)
He needed some days free to do his job as broker.
So like ALL the other pilots in the company I now work one shift of days, the next nights. I hate getting up while it's still dark.
I hate working days.

January was tough.
We normally get airborne three times in 24 hours. And that normally works out to one day flight and two night flights, which, while I was working nights, was just fine with me.
But about half of January passed with the BK in the hangar.
Snow, sleet, ice, drizzle, freezing drizzle/rain, fog...
Our base ended the month with 40 flights. (That pays the bills, but we're unaccustomed to sitting that much.)

February has been about the same...
As I write this on the 8th, we have thirteen flights-
Eight hospital to hospital transfers,
Three Children's specialty team transfers,
and two scene flights.
I'm now in the third day of my six days in a row. Day one, the phone didn't ring. Day two, I was on standby for a motorcycle accident in the morning, then again for an ATV accident in the afternoon. Neither converted.
It's now just afternoon of day three, and I just checked the phone again to make sure it's working. (There is a dial tone.)

Since we are short a pilot at this time, I spend 1/3 of my life either at this base or carrying the helicopter around on my back. No one complains about the facility... we have a nice kitchen with all the bells and whistles, boys and girls bathrooms, community room with TV, VCR/DVD player, an individual recliner and a sofa with two reclining segments. Pilot, Nurse, and Paramedic all have individual bedrooms to retreat to if you want a nap or just want to be alone. There is one computer in the community room, and another in the pilot's room... both have fast internet connections, and we are allowed to surf all we want, within normal limits.

And that's what I've done for two days now... check here to see if anyone has commented, publish those that have, surf the 'net, check to see if anyone has commented...
Isn't that sad?

But yesterday I went to a site I hadn't checked in a while...
A site devoted to Army Flight School. I was mainly looking for long-lost friends. But I got caught up in reading some of the comments others left there...
Sons and daughters who lost their Dads and are looking to fill in some blanks.
Wives, doing the same.
Old men like me, trying to find old buddies.

Two comments struck me enough that I got out pen and paper and copied their email addresses-
One was from a Donut Dolly. You're probably familiar with their mission, but if not you can read about it here. During my tour in Viet Nam it always impressed me how many folks were willing to risk their lives there in non-combat roles... the Donut Dollies and USO shows are two that come to mind. No, they didn't normally get shot at, (but sometimes they did, as you can see from the link). And they certainly were subject to the same dangers we all were exposed to while at base camp... mortars and rockets. I had the greatest respect for them.

So I emailed "Susan", hoping her email address was still active, and thanked her for taking the extra risk, and for bringing a little joy to my life during a time when I was young, frightened, and homesick as Hell.
She must have been sitting at her computer because she responded right away. She said I "made her day", and went on about her respect for the helicopter crews. Turns out she was at Pleiku, Viet Nam just after I left there.
She's a life member of the Viet Nam Helicopter Pilot's association of Florida and attends many of the conventions. Maybe one day we'll meet in person!

The other note that touched me was from a guy that started flight school, and got about 50 hours in the Hughes TH-55, our primary trainer. He was prior service (Marines), and when they started the de-escalation of the war they simply told him they didn't need him anymore.
Bye-bye.
He cared enough... was excited enough to volunteer to become a "human target" in the helicopter, and halfway through his primary training they sent him home.
This guy would be welcomed with open arms at any of our conventions and I told him so. He's reluctant... I guess I would be too. But he lives in a major city, and if there is a convention held there anytime soon he'll be attending as my guest, I'll promise you that!

That was yesterday. I left my own message at the site with my current email address. Today I got a note from my crew chief at Pleiku. I responded and am now waiting for his return response.
So sitting here bein' a little bored has paid off in an odd way. I'm glad to have the time to explore the web while waiting for the phone to ring.
Remember, "EMS" can mean "Earn Money Surfing"!

Apparel Evolution

You're lookin' at a piece of clothing that first made me really realize what was about to happen in my life. It was all kind of a blur... I had signed up to go to flight school. Me, Ole Prairie Dog, and a couple other guys from our OCS class had traveled to Ft. Wolters, Texas to begin our primary flight training. Putting on our flight jackets... and looking like real aviators... that was when the full realization of what was about to happen to us became apparent.

I've worn a jacket similar to that one now for 41 years. A jacket almost exactly like the one in the photo hangs in my closet today. The jacket I wear when I fly the BK117 is very similar, differing in that it is made of fire-resistent Nomex, and it is black in color with reflective strips on the back. The pockets in the one I wear at work have zippers instead of snaps. But look at the left sleeve. See the vertical zipper there?
My new jacket also has that same zipper...
It's the cigarette pocket.

I have never smoked. I've probably owned a dozen or so jackets similar to the one in the picture, but I have never had a pack of cigarettes in that pocket.
I'm at work today and I just checked... my spare pair of earplugs are in there, alongside a small Swiss Army knife. They are there just because the pocket is there and I hate for it to be empty.

But I was thinking on my way to work this morning...
"How much extra does it cost to put that pocket on all the flight jackets being produced today? What percentage of aviators today actually smoke? What company will be the first to realize they can cut costs by eliminating the (unnecessary?) pocket?"
I bet they're gone within ten years.

And that led me to another thought...
My Dad always smoked, and he always used Zippo lighters.
I bet the old ones will have collector value at some point in the
not-too-distant future.