fiebichpvApril 7, 2011, 4:52pm
Red Eye Flight
The air raid siren blared its God awful noise waking me from my afternoon nap where I slept on a cot in a secluded corner of the aerodrome hangar.
Seems as though the Huns have a new tactic; dropping incendiary bombs on the vast Kansas grasslands. Because of the protracted drought and winter kill of grass, the pasturelands are a tinderbox. Coupled with high winds, grass fires grow quickly and sweep across the landscape at racehorse speed.
Amid the smoke created haze, the Huns can get extremely close to the outposts and be upon the hapless chaps on the ground before they realize an attack is underway. AirBike Ace to the rescue!
Following a quick pre-flight, fuel tank top-off and fresh machine gun belts installed, I pushed my fighter out onto the field and started it up. Avenger was there to help, flailing his arms and running about, he directed me to the runway's end. Taking off, I was nearly IFR and quickly out of sight of the aerodrome. Later, Avenger said he knew I was still airborne because he could hear the engine running at a constant drone.
Visibility was just above minimums of one mile, by straining, I could see perhaps one and a half miles. Flying a searching pattern, it was evident where the Huns had been but not where they were now. Smoke was thick and seemed to roll across the prairie like the dust clouds of the thirties. At times the setting sun broke through the areas of thinner smoke haze.
The air was pungent with the smell of burned grass and particles which caused me to cough even though I filtered my breathing with a silk scarf. My eyes hurt too, I could feel them burning from the smoke irritation.
Several times I cleared my guns in preparation for a fight. If more than one Hun was spotted, I would be outnumbered as all my fellow fliers had "engine trouble" and couldn't join me. Maybe I should have had engine trouble too! Forty-five minutes of pattern searching later and not having seen any Huns, I headed back to the aerodrome. I considered the area secure. Perhaps the Huns heard the unique sound of my two-stroke Rotax and high-tailed it out of there? I am sure that is what it was.
Still heavily laden with bombs and fuel, I didn't want to chance landing back at the airfield and risk having something bad happen. I dropped the unused bombs into numerous farm watersheds where they exploded harmlessly (almost, if you don't count the cows that suddenly went to "sleep" and all the fish and turtles that jumped out onto the banks)
Returning to the aerodrome area, I climbed to pattern altitude then descended on downwind, crosswind and final. The landing was uneventful, I taxied to the open hangar where Avenger guided me in. Apparently it wasn't necessary to get airborne after all, it seems as though once the Huns started all the fires, they couldn't find the targets! That is ironic isn't it? Works for me.
AirBike Ace
The in-flight photos show the smoke screen I encountered yesterday and another photo taken today shows the scorched landscape.
The air raid siren blared its God awful noise waking me from my afternoon nap where I slept on a cot in a secluded corner of the aerodrome hangar.
Seems as though the Huns have a new tactic; dropping incendiary bombs on the vast Kansas grasslands. Because of the protracted drought and winter kill of grass, the pasturelands are a tinderbox. Coupled with high winds, grass fires grow quickly and sweep across the landscape at racehorse speed.
Amid the smoke created haze, the Huns can get extremely close to the outposts and be upon the hapless chaps on the ground before they realize an attack is underway. AirBike Ace to the rescue!
Following a quick pre-flight, fuel tank top-off and fresh machine gun belts installed, I pushed my fighter out onto the field and started it up. Avenger was there to help, flailing his arms and running about, he directed me to the runway's end. Taking off, I was nearly IFR and quickly out of sight of the aerodrome. Later, Avenger said he knew I was still airborne because he could hear the engine running at a constant drone.
Visibility was just above minimums of one mile, by straining, I could see perhaps one and a half miles. Flying a searching pattern, it was evident where the Huns had been but not where they were now. Smoke was thick and seemed to roll across the prairie like the dust clouds of the thirties. At times the setting sun broke through the areas of thinner smoke haze.
The air was pungent with the smell of burned grass and particles which caused me to cough even though I filtered my breathing with a silk scarf. My eyes hurt too, I could feel them burning from the smoke irritation.
Several times I cleared my guns in preparation for a fight. If more than one Hun was spotted, I would be outnumbered as all my fellow fliers had "engine trouble" and couldn't join me. Maybe I should have had engine trouble too! Forty-five minutes of pattern searching later and not having seen any Huns, I headed back to the aerodrome. I considered the area secure. Perhaps the Huns heard the unique sound of my two-stroke Rotax and high-tailed it out of there? I am sure that is what it was.
Still heavily laden with bombs and fuel, I didn't want to chance landing back at the airfield and risk having something bad happen. I dropped the unused bombs into numerous farm watersheds where they exploded harmlessly (almost, if you don't count the cows that suddenly went to "sleep" and all the fish and turtles that jumped out onto the banks)
Returning to the aerodrome area, I climbed to pattern altitude then descended on downwind, crosswind and final. The landing was uneventful, I taxied to the open hangar where Avenger guided me in. Apparently it wasn't necessary to get airborne after all, it seems as though once the Huns started all the fires, they couldn't find the targets! That is ironic isn't it? Works for me.
AirBike Ace
The in-flight photos show the smoke screen I encountered yesterday and another photo taken today shows the scorched landscape.