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February - March 2018

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We waited, and waited. Finally, I gave up, and, while stuck

behind a school bus a short way’s down 376, a plane that

gave a pretty good imitation of a Mustang flew over the

road with its landing gear down. I did a quick U-turn and

got back to the airport as soon as I could (I was stuck at

the infamous 376/New Hackensack Road traffic light

forever), and when I got back to the end of the runway was

informed “the second you left the Mustang did a

fly-by, and then landed”. Shit. Double Shit... One

of the whole points of all the waiting was to see,

and hear, a Mustang in the sky, one more time.

Some days you eat the bear, some days the bear

eats you.

So, like a moth to a flame, I went back to the

airport Friday, hopefully to see the planes

(including the Mustang) take off. When I was inside the

gate Jamie announced they needed two more people to

up. I said, “Room for one more???” She nodded. Believe

me, 400 Bucks has never been, and never will be, “pocket

change” to me, but I, Mr. Non-Impulsive, handed her my

DISCOVER card.

It took forever to get the signal to board the B-25, and

only then did I find out three people would be in front:

ringside seats on the flight deck and in the plexiglass

bombardier’s compartment in the nose—The Best Seat in

the House—and I and two others would be “in the rear”. It

got worse: once “in back”, there would be no way to get past

the bomb bay into the front. In the “NINE 0 NINE” we could

roam the entire airplane. Not so with the B-25. Honestly, if I

had known this beforehand, I would not have handed over

the DISCOVER card.

Aboard, they gave us ear protection. My first thought was

“I don’t need no stinkin’ ear protection: I want to

experience the whole nine yards!” The Wright

Cyclone R-2600-92’s finally fired up, barking

and mis-firing for quite a while: loud, but not

unbearable. When the pilot revved ‘em up at

the end of the runway, the sound blast was the

absolute LOUDEST thing I had ever experienced:

unbearably, painfully LOUD. I slammed on the ear

protection, and wore it the entire flight.

Take off was anti-climactic for me—I had The Worst Seat in

the House, facing rearward, my back to the bomb bay wall—

the two other “rear” guys were seated at the two plexiglass

waist gunner’s windows. I couldn’t see nuthin’... When we

reached cruising altitude, as promised we were given the

signal we could take off our seat belts and crawl, one at a

time, back to the tail gunner’s position. I’d be the last, but

I moved up to the left waist gunner’s window and, Wow!!!,

there was the Hudson down there, stretching north, and we

were right over Bowdoin Park!

So, like a

moth to a

flame...

Tail Gunner’s view.