Can You Hear it?... Can You See it?
The propeller blades start turning... the monster horsepower radial piston engine is rattling and clanking as it turns over. Can you hear it?
The crew chief is out front counting the blades as the engine turns over. Then he gives the sign... "contact"... the pilot throws the switch... and then the monster starts to come to life... popping, choking, and coughing... and banging along. Can you see it? Can you hear it?
Blowing out puffs of black smoke the monster spits and sputters. And then you hear it come to full life. Clouds of smoke billow out and then clear up. The engine revs up and the zillion cylinder engine purrs smoothly. A couple of minutes later the crew chief waves his arm around in the air... the pilot pushes the throttles forward and the monster roars. The "chief" guides the pilot out and with a salute sends him on his way. Hear It? ... See it?
This isn't the movie "Casa Blanca"... this isn't a WWII war movie. These are our memories of NAKED FANNY.
The plane turns and rumbles along the makeshift steel taxiway. The heavy weapons load make it buck and pitch a bit as it moves along the uneven steel planks. Near the end of the runway the pilot pulls to a stop and a hoard of armorers run out to the plane. They remove all the red streamers and safeing pins to make the weapons load lethal.
Then... the pilot pulls out... turns... and starts down the runway. The Monster roars and lumbers along at first. It slowly picks up speed and finally at the far end of the runway the warbird lifts off. It turns toward the river... toward "the trail" to deliver it's load on "Uncle Ho's " army... an army who are moving supplies intended to kill our boys in the south.
I can still hear it and see it in my mind just like it was yesterday. These were the sights and sounds heard thousands of times at "NAKED FANNY".
This is just one of a million memories that members of the "Royal Order of NAKED FANNY" have. If you can still hear it... if you can still see it... maybe you can still feel the red dust in your nostrils... or maybe the taste of Singhi beer... or still have not recovered from a drunken Mekong stupor... or you never dried out from the monsoons... or you still hear the geckos... then I want to put your stories in the next book, "More Memories of NAKED FANNY".