Direct Action
by Tom Fitzgerald
Doug pulled his classic racing green 1972 Volvo 1800 estate wagon into the parking garage at terminal A. It had been a long time since he used this terminal to take the daily Janet flights up to “Dreamland” better known as Area 51. Of course the place didn’t exist, but the flights still kept going. When he got to the security check-in he had to show his ID card and was directed to Gate 4. He was in seventh heaven when he saw what the Navy sent for him, an old DC3, silver with the black “United States Navy” above the windows. The two pilots were standing at the nose of the plane and headed over to him when he stepped out of the terminal door. “Professor Remington, I’m Captain Hanson and this is Lieutenant Powell, we are to take you to North Island Naval Air Station, San Diego.” Doug said “I’m looking forward to flying with you in this beautiful old “Dakota.” Would it be possible for me to sit up in the cockpit during the flight?” They smiled at each other and Captain Hanson said, “Sure; let’s get aboard.” By the time they were making their approach, Doug was strapped in the flight engineer’s seat. He had learned that the navy had kept this old World War Two plane because so many admirals had flown in it; Halsey, Niemetz, Rickover, Zimwalt to name a few.
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by Tom Fitzgerald
Doug pulled his classic racing green 1972 Volvo 1800 estate wagon into the parking garage at terminal A. It had been a long time since he used this terminal to take the daily Janet flights up to “Dreamland” better known as Area 51. Of course the place didn’t exist, but the flights still kept going. When he got to the security check-in he had to show his ID card and was directed to Gate 4. He was in seventh heaven when he saw what the Navy sent for him, an old DC3, silver with the black “United States Navy” above the windows. The two pilots were standing at the nose of the plane and headed over to him when he stepped out of the terminal door. “Professor Remington, I’m Captain Hanson and this is Lieutenant Powell, we are to take you to North Island Naval Air Station, San Diego.” Doug said “I’m looking forward to flying with you in this beautiful old “Dakota.” Would it be possible for me to sit up in the cockpit during the flight?” They smiled at each other and Captain Hanson said, “Sure; let’s get aboard.” By the time they were making their approach, Doug was strapped in the flight engineer’s seat. He had learned that the navy had kept this old World War Two plane because so many admirals had flown in it; Halsey, Niemetz, Rickover, Zimwalt to name a few.
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