"You got to be careful if you don't know where you're going, because you might not get there." Yogi Berra
Al writes: After Washington, DC, it was time to
get to Dover Air Force Base where we hoped to fly "Space-Available" to Germany. We got
to Dover by public transportation on Sunday afternoon because a Ramstein flight
was scheduled for Monday evening. Let me digress a little and explain the
process. Retirees are Cat VI, which is the lowest category for Space-A.
Each military passenger terminal has a Facebook page that posts the known
3-day schedule for flights out with tentative information on how
many seats may be released. It is a little more complicated than I have
explained, but nothing is firm, and the Air Force can change anything,
anytime, anywhere. So, to paraphrase Clint Eastwood, "Do I feel lucky
today?" There is a roll call 3-4
hours before each flight, which is the moment of truth. If your name is called at roll call, you are
on the flight. For retirees, chances are based on if the
number of seats released gets down to Cat VI and if the date you requested your
name to be put on the Space-A list beats everyone else. Carol put us on lists about 37 days ago.
Monday afternoon as we were getting ready to go to the
terminal for roll call, we checked Facebook and found roll call had been canceled--no
seats available. Tuesday morning, two
new flights to Germany popped up on the schedule, so we got to the terminal by
11:00 for roll call at 2:00. However, we
were informed roll call had been moved up to 1:00.
Then at 12:55, roll call was moved to 5:30. At 4:30, lights were turned on in the baggage
area, a platoon of Air Force guys appeared, and our name was called first. By now, I do not believe anything, but the
platoon of Air Force guys checked ID's and passports, and grabbed our
luggage. I was asked what box supper I
desired--turkey, ham, or peanut butter & jelly sandwich. Hmmm, I am now thinking I will get to
Germany.
An hour later, the security screening machines were
turned on and the platoon of Air Force guys moved to this area, where we went
through the same routine you would go through at a civilian airport. After passing through security screening, I was issued my box supper; Megan calls them
"box nasties". Then a bus pulled
up to the little room we had been squirreled in and it was time to go out onto
the tarmac. Just as we started through
the door, one of the platoon leaders stopped us and told the rest of the
platoon not to load these old people.
Hmmm, our eyes got wide, expecting that the plane has had a change of
status, like a wing falling off. Nope,
the pilot was trying to get everybody on board to leave early and someone
higher up than the platoon leader said no.
So we waited another 45 minutes, boarded our bus and then headed out to
our plane. As we headed out the door to the bus, we were highly encouraged to help ourselves to a little box of earplugs to protect our ears during the flight. Now you have a little idea
why we find gambling to be a little exciting.
Our aircraft was a C-5 Galaxy, which is the largest plane
in the Air Force inventory. We do not
build them anymore and they are starting to show their age. On the upper deck, there is seating for
75. The massive cargo area (200,000 lbs)
is on the lower deck. We chose the
first row of seating near the door, and soon an Air Force crew member prepared to close a large door that runs on
tracks into the overhead. As he was
closing the door, it jumped the tracks and jammed in the open position. Carol and I just looked at each other. We were only a few feet from this action and
could hear the crew member talking on his headset about how he thought he fixed
this that morning, that this is not good, send up the crew chief and how it is
going to be pretty windy in the passenger section. Carol and I just looked at each other. Two other crew members appeared and they were
all looking at the tracks, shaking and banging on the door and saying how this
is not good. Now, I am not easily
alarmed, but there were also miscellaneous wires and insulation dangling from
the overhead around this door. Carol and
I just looked at each other. Finally,
the tall one gave the door a really good whack and it got back into the tracks
and was pushed closed with only some pinched fingers as casualties. Carol and I just looked at each other and
then looked at the door to make sure we could not see outside.
Next it was time for the safety brief. The airman read from a script at mach speed
in a mumbling manner at the same time that we all had earplugs in and the jets
were whining. I never heard a word. He demonstrated what I think was an
emergency breathing mask with compressed oxygen that is a backup to the masks
that come out of the overhead…if you can figure out how to make them come out
of the overhead. These emergency masks were
some sort of neoprene bag that fits over your entire head. I did read that if the oxygen does not work,
quickly pull off the bag or you will suffocate quickly. Then there was the brief life vest demonstration. I think some words were said about the straps, but there was all this other stuff hanging down. He said we did not have to worry about that
stuff (I think). Carol and I just looked
at each other.
There were only
17 old people that boarded the plane, so we had all the room we wanted. Everyone spread out so that each of us could lie
down on three seats to sleep. As we taxied Carol's eyes got very big
as she pointed up to the vents above her.
There appeared to be smoke coming out.
I looked back and all the vents had “smoke” coming out. However, I realized that the "smokey" icy blast that
was hitting me was not the door flying open but the ventilation system kicking
in. What we were seeing was moist cold
vapor! I yelled this information into
Carol's ear just before she was going to raise her hand to tell the airman that
we were on fire and we were all going to die.
I would have been so embarrassed…
Finally, we were in the air! Then it got cold, really cold. I knew I was in trouble when the experienced travelers behind us pulled out sleeping bags and crawled in and went to sleep. I put on my sweatshirt, hood and coat, pulled the paper-thin Air Force
blanket around me and hunkered down for a restful night knowing that I just
saved $1500 dollars because the Air Force was so kind to take me to Germany in
style. Carol did not even mind the frost
bitten toes. Seriously, thank you, Air
Force; we appreciate what you do.
I know I am rambling but every experience was new and
not quite what I expected. Going through
customs was another one of those things that we sort of worried about--not
because we were bringing in contraband, but because we have almost a year’s
worth of prescriptions. After the
passports were inspected, we were directed to the customs official, who did not
look like a customs official. He really
looked like a German army sergeant getting ready to take a run. No official logos on his clothes, just some
nondescript work pants and an olive green t-shirt. So we walked up to him, ready to put our
luggage on the long table for inspection.
He said, "no no...", smiled, and asked, "Do you have
anything to declare?" Carol and I
just looked at each other. I was thinking
to myself, "Can you give me an example?" We must have both looked sort of dumbfounded
because he smiled again and asked, "Cigarettes?” I said no and he replied, "Have a nice
stay in Germany.” That was it.
Our first 5 days in Germany were spent in the Ramstein
area. We stayed in a friendly,
convenient hotel outside Ramstein Air Force Base. It was a good place for us to get used to
life outside the US. We did not want to
get to Amsterdam too early because lodging there would be more expensive. The area we are in is in the southwest corner
of Germany, not far from the Rhine River and Luxembourg. It has traditionally been an area of heavy
U.S. military presence with Ramstein AFB, Landstuhl military hospital complex
and Kaiserslautern (K-town) Army base.
I lived in K-town in the early
50's when my dad was stationed there after the war.
A huge underground room in Nanstein castle--damp walls from water seepage, a wet dirt floor
Entrance to Nanstein castle with eye holes through walls several feet thick
Some of Nanstein Castle's walls are constructed on thick layers of sandstone
A huge underground room in Nanstein castle--damp walls from water seepage, a wet dirt floor
Castle walls built on layers of sandstone
Here are a few tidbits of information we have learned during
our first few days in Germany:
1. When you get a local SIM card for a cell
phone, it changes your number.
2. Bring your own bags to the supermarket--none
are provided.
3. You have to pay to use a grocery shopping
cart.
4. Beer is cheaper than soft drinks (yippee).
5. Some toilets have two flush choices...high
and low...You can figure it out.
6. A popular drink in the pubs is beer and Coca Cola
mixed.
We have explored some of the local area using the
regional train system, which is as wonderful, timely, and convenient as
expected. Ramstein is not a big tourist area
but still has its interesting history and culture. We are definitely not in Kansas anymore. We visited Landstuhl (5 minutes on the train)
and walked through the ruins of Nanstein Castle, which was built in 1162 by
Holy Roman Emperor Frederick I. Later in
1518, it was fortified by German knight Franz von Sickingen to make the castle
suitable for firearms. Yesterday we visited
K-Town during a big soccer match and had a meal in a pub with the rest of the
Germans watching their team. The train
coming back to Landstuhl/Ramstein was full of soccer fans doing some singing
because their team won. I am proud to
report that I am blending in as long as I keep my mouth shut. I have had several Germans asking me for
directions, commenting on the game and other comments of which I have no idea of the
subject matter. Must be my hat.
Carol writes: It's the hat.
The journey continues Monday because I have rented a car to drive to Amsterdam (cheaper than the train) and it will be easier to transport our luggage. I went on a new site called airbnb.com that has rentals for staying in private rooms or apartments and found an apartment several minutes from Amsterdam city center. This will be interesting. We will let you know how it goes.
"One doesn't discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time." Andre Gide
I was laughing about your C-5 experience. We have a similar problem with the one of the windows on the tanker. The pilots have sliding glass windows in the cockpits that are nice for airflow when it's hot. If it's realy hot we taxi with them open then shut them right before takeoff. Well without fail, the pilot's one always falls off the tracks when to trying close it right before takeoff. There's a small pin that is easily bent which makes the window fall off. So the SOP (standard operating procedure) is to take the crash ax and bang the pin into place then put the window back on. Of course this isn't written anywhere, just passed down from generation to generation.
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ReplyDeleteMom would have really freaked if the airmen started using a crash ax.
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