“Hi, sir,” replied the two navigators, settling into their work positions in the rear of the cockpit.
They were responsible for items such as always knowing the position of the aircraft, maintaining the safety of their payload (nuclear or conventional weapons), radio calls, and on-board systems. The navigators were an important part of the crew, especially in a complicated aircraft like this one.
The Boeing B-1 Lancer was a four-engine, supersonic, variable-sweep wing bomber, and was used by the U.S. Air Force as a low-level penetrator for nuclear and conventional bomb delivery. It was designed during the Cold War as a supersonic bomber to fly at two times the speed of sound, or Mach 2, to replace the aging Boeing B-52 Stratofortress. Both jets, along with the B-2 Spirit, make up the U.S. Air Force’s three bombers, and a fourth one is being designed today. The B-1, weighing in empty at 192,000 pounds and a top height of 34 feet, make her a big girl.
Ford could hear them punching in the aircraft position into the self-contained navigational systems before the GPS satellites could be grabbed. “44 degrees, 8 minutes, 47 seconds North… then, ahh… 103 degrees, 4 minutes and 29 seconds West,” he heard them converse.
Ford met up with Pinky who was already seated in the co-pilot seat on the right side of the cockpit. He placed his bag on the left side, the pilot seat. Sgt McCoy was there with the three of them now.
“Sir, just got scoop on the two-way radio that we got us a delay. Bout’ an hour delay due to snowplows on the taxiways and runway. Will take them awhile to plow runway 13/31,” Sgt McCoy reported to Ford.
Runway 13/31, the longest runway at Ellsworth AFB at nearly 13,500 feet and made of concrete, could handle any large aircraft the U.S. military had. Because of the size of the B-1, this runway was needed to both take-off and land safely. A slippery pavement was that last thing you wanted when you flew something of any size.
“Okay, Sgt McCoy. Thanks for coming up here and letting us know. Why don’t you just close the hatch and stay warm up here with us? Get you out of the elements,” Ford offered.
“Yeah, great idea. Thank you, sir. I will,” Sgt McCoy said, taking off his fur lined parka hood and large gloves. “Captain Stevens, a few of the boys and I were wondering if you could tell us about your last tour… the carrier… with the Navy. We never heard of any pilots doing that Joint tour thing… since we have some time to kill, and all.”
Ford was thankful the flight was delayed a bit because he wasn’t feeling that great this morning. He had an upset stomach and some lower back pain, which was very unusual for him. It wasn’t anything to take himself off the flight schedule, but he knew something wasn’t right. He was happy to have the flight delayed a bit, and just talk with the crew.
“Yup. Of course. Yeah… it was a terrific experience.” Ford was selected three years ago by a formal Board at Headquarters Air Force to participate in a Joint cross training program with the U. S. Navy. Unique in its nature, Ford was able to be embedded in a Navy F-18 Hornet squadron as an Air Force pilot. After finishing a six-month training program in Florida, he reported to squadron VFA-105, the “Gunslingers,” at Naval Air Station, Oceana. Flying under the squadron call sign ‘CANYON’, he was a full-up pilot trained by the Navy.
“So, bottom line, it was a blast,” Ford started explaining. “Carrier ops, single seat jet time, close air support, dropping bombs… life on the ship. Excessive fun.”
Life on the aircraft carrier was like no other place on earth. By any slice of measurement, it was a distinctive place to both live and work because of a plethora of reasons. Besides living on a floating houseboat with no windows with over 3,000 of your closest friends, you also worked there, flew from there, and shared a bedroom with complete strangers with no windows.
There were all sorts of culture items for Ford to get used to that did not exist at Air Force Bases. For example, the ship offered midnight food, nicknamed mid-rats, known for its official name of midnight rations. At all times of the day or night, steel chains were dragged along the flight deck for aircraft tie downs, which were important in rough seas so aircraft didn’t roll overboard into the water. It was also important for anyone who thought they were going to sleep, because the dragging chains sounded like loud, rolling thunder to those under the flight deck in their beds. Then there were the ship announcements over the loudspeaker system, constant cleaning, paint chipping, high-speed flowing steam, 24-hour kitchen cooking, and the loud slamming of aircraft upon landing.
The ship was also famous for pilot shenanigans and practical jokes, which Ford enjoyed, where aircrew earned their callsigns appropriately. If some young pilot went to the showers without any footwear on, he would be named “Shower Shoes,” of course. Another pilot may notice something completely obvious in the Ready Room, point it out to the other pilots publically, and she would be called “Moto” for “Master of the Obvious.” Other callsigns had to do with human physical imperfections, such as a maybe a shorter finger (Badfinger), a large and strange birthmark on your neck (Spot), or a less than ramrod posture (Hunchback). Other callsigns were related to last names, which usually corresponded to a famous person. You could imagine what a pilot’s callsign would be if their last name was Clinton, Kardashian, Pitt, Brady, Trump, Bieber or Clooney. The joy in naming those rookie pilots! Besides the camaraderie of these nicknames, the tactical reason for using them was because you could not use real names on the aircraft radios. At least there was some military reason behind the military buffoonery and side show comedy.
The navigators, or navs, heard that it was ‘story time’ up front in the B-1, so they moved from the rear of the aircraft and came up to listen in. From outside the aircraft at Ellsworth, the scrapes of the snow plow blades were heard on the runways, and their rotating yellow lights reflected off the snow and into the cockpit. The sun had not come up yet on their early morning scheduled flight, so the bright yellow lights traveled far.
“Squid!” one the navs yelled as he was coming forward into the pilot seats area. ‘Squid’ was a humorous term called by Army, Marine and Air Force members to their Navy brothers. It was usually followed by ‘rust-picker’ or other humorous term, with some innocent ribbing and laughing.
“Very funny, Torchman. You’d never make it with these guys on the ship,” Ford told him. “Too hard of a lifestyle for a Ritz-Carlton, Merlot-drinking, rich kid from Orange County like you.” The rest of the crew laughed. “They would have killed you and thrown ya overboard.”
Chengdu University of Traditional Medicine had a portion of the building devoted to the crossbreed treatment of patients, focusing on both traditional and integrative medicines. The Traditional Chinese Medicine, or TCM, consisted of more than 2,000 years of practice, included various forms of herbal medicine, acupuncture, massage, exercise, and dietary therapy. The integrative medicine approach used some of the TCM, along with other treatments known in the West.
The nurse stood in the hallway looking at the patent’s records one more time, double checking his vitals and history, the traditional science data, before reentering the room. The waiting room was jammed with patients, but she flipped the folder to look at the interior pages, wondering about his TCM info. TCM's opinion of the human body placed little importance on anatomical arrangements, and was engrossed on the functional things. The interior section of this patient’s record had plenty of data on this subject, surrounding digestion, breathing, and his age. TCM also believed that overall health is connected to the outside world, and that disease is understood as a conflict in collaboration. The science of medicine, and TCM, combined when she looked again at the patient’s pulse, tongue, skin, and eyes, and in addition to looking at his eating and sleeping habits.