As I learn how aircraft naming comes about... How the jet numbers (18, 22, 16, 14 et al) don't mean anything at all... How the boys and tomboys at Northrop Grumman and Honeywell throw words in there like "super" and "growler" with no real rhyme... How the armed forces and its supporters are the largest in life and everlast heroes, all the while lost boys and Wendy Darlings... I come to realize they all deserve it.
Combat may never happen. Bombs may never be dropped. And tragedy may never fall. But it's a Neverland community of dreams and jokes making light while making the ultimate sacrifice of living life--from the cooks to the crew chiefs, from the ass holes to the comedians and Prince Charmings, from the adrenaline junkies to the family men. They are gone and risking and working harder than most. Running an ultramarathon. Cut from a different cloth and separate. The service whopper for the good suits and bleeding hearts stateside.
Deep down, they're just brave little boys.
F-15 crew chief thoughts ... Courtesy of crewdog15 via YouTube via forwarded e-mail.
Have fun second star to the right and straight on 'til morning.
2 comments:
I'm a fighter pilot... ooo who who... I'm a fighter pilot.
Precisely. =0)
Post a Comment