Flying Over the Sea of Japan to Kimpo, Korea 1966

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This article discusses a flight from Japan to Korea.

He was AWOL and got lucky: a Rescue Flight to Seoul

AWOL & a short  romance

Photo: military service offered the author surprising educational opportunities including operating heavy equipment. Even aircraft?

It's a long story about being stranded in Japan trying to get back to Seoul after a leave, finally hitching a ride on an air force general's plane thanks to a generous air force brat.

Everyone heading back to Korea had been stranded for 3 days in Japan, sleeping on the airport floor. 

No flights were leaving - none that had free space available for GI's returning to Korea from leave - a few hundred of us of all sorts and ranks. After three days on the floor rank took on a difference sense.

I gave up and went to the officers club for a drink and to play the dime slot machines. It would be the last time I ever played the slots in my life but I didn't know that at the time and not being dead, I even now I can't say that for absolute sure.

I looked pretty pathetic, tired, wrinkled, and after an hour and one drink, the slots took my remaining money. Now I was broke, too. 

What's this? A girl my age, an American, walking over to chat? I was the only one in the O-club anywhere near her age. 

What's up? she asked. Clearly I looked pathetic. I stared at the floor to see if maybe a dime or two had fallen at my feet.

Aw nothin much, but I I'm AWOL and desperate to get back to Seoul but there are no flights and I'm already 3 days late, and in trouble.

It all came out in a torrent. I forgot to mention that I was flat busted or that I had an unfaithful girlfriend, Joanne, back home. (Joanne had found a guy who was better looking, richer, smarter, more fun, and, dammit, he drove a Porsche! Why wasn't he in 'Nam?)

Aw gee, she said, Daddy has room on our plane, I'm sure he'd give you a ride.

Daddy?

Yes my dad is an air force officer .

Egad this is an air force brat. Airgirl didn't say then that Daddy was a General. It was General Daddy.

Airgirl walked off to talk with General Daddy, and came back just as quickly, taking big strides across the dimeless floor. As the daughter of an air force General, Airgirl spoke planely.  

Daddy says fine! You should go right now to flight ops and tell them General Dofus says to give you that extra seat on our flight. We take off in less than an hour - as soon as they've got all of mommy's shopping on board the aircraft. There's only ONE free seat, so don't waste any time getting over to flight operations!

What a nice Airgirl, nice General, nice everybody.

Almost everybody.

Back in the huge waiting room three hundred and nineteen other rumpled guys saw me run in, grab my duffel bag and walk quickly towards the exit. The ONLY available much less "free" seat on a plane leaving Japan for Korea.  Hot dog!

A colonel stopped me. Shit, it was Colonel Glaring. Two silver eagles, one on each of his wrinkled epaulets, aimed their nasty beaks down down down at the little single silver landing strips on my shoulders.

Where ya headed, son? Slicknose stared at me hard. Really hard, as he leaned into my rank space.

Oh nowhere, sir I'm just .... I hesitated too long .. going to wash up.

Slicknose trailed me to flight-ops. The AFG's pilots were just finishing filing their flight plan. Two young fellows.

Over my shoulder one of them noticed Colonel Glaring nosing his way into the small room. It was cool that November, 1966. But the pilots could feel heat rising.

Just go out and wait by that plane the chief pilot said. Grinning he pointed to a huge prop plane sitting on the runway.

I did. By the silver plane I planted myself, feet epoxied to the tarmac while I watched the flight operations people and "my" pilots through the window. There was shouting and gesturing.

I knew I was probably headed for jail because if Colonel Glaring took my seat I was sure I'd punch some of the grease off his oily nose. 

The two pilots grinned some more as they walked out of flight ops while I held, white-knuckled, onto the bottom of the stairway's handrail. Their boss was a general, not a puny slicknosed colonel.

That's one time you out-ranked a Colonel, son. Captain Co-pilot laughed. 

I squeezed into the one remaining seat, leaving Colonel Glaring glaring (I'll take care of that little shit back in Seoul he muttered).

After that innocent little tussle getting on board, the pilots had time to chat while we waited for General Daddy, Mrs. General Mommy, and Airgirl. 
We talked flying. I'd actually flown when I was a baby and as a toddler and when older I had held the controls, briefly, once or twice - just on small planes of course, not on a real big one like theirs.

[Click the photo & skip any ads to see a yellow Piper J-3]

With the General family aboard and buckled-in, we took off from Yakota air base and turned North to head out over the Sea of Japan.

Back in the big waiting room 318 fellows cheered. Not Colonel G

Both my parents flew small planes over Richmond, taking off from Byrd Field. One of my earliest memories from the mid 1940s is sitting in a tiny plane looking out across the sky at another tiny plane, silver, glowing in the sunlight. From the other plane my big sister Linda leaned forward, put her face in the window, and waved to me across the open sky. For me she's still there. Waving. Smiling. Dad flew with Linda. Mom had me strapped in to her little J-3 Piper Cub.

Ours was yellow. I wasn't taking many photos before I was 10. So the Piper J-3s shown here are compliments of Wikipedia.

Perfectly smooth flying, plenty of altitude.

To my great joy, the co-pilot invited me up to the cockpit and put me in his seat.  Who knows, maybe he went to flirt with the AF flight attendant.

 The pilot turned to me - I had the radio headset on so we could talk. Here, he said,

Here, take the wheel!

Reaching altitude over the the Sea we turned West, edging close to the East China Sea, and pointed our shiny but not greasy nose towards Kimpo, the US Air Force base near Seoul.

For the first and and last time, I had the controls of a big plane.

Flying is easy as pie. Once you're aloft and the air is smooth. It's takeoff and landing that make all the difference. 

But practice is needed to fly steadily - I had no seat-of-the-pants feel for the big plane. To be honest I had and have no seat-of-the-pants flying ability for little planes either.

The plane began to descend, just a little. I pulled back on the stick.

The plane began to rise, just a little. I pushed down on the stick.

The plane leaned a little to the starboard (that's to the right) so I turned slightly to port.

Up, down, left, right, we continued to head, more or less in a three-dimensional S-pattern of up and down, left and right, weaving drunkenly across the Sea of Japan towards Seoul. Smooth air, plenty of altitude.

It was fantastic. Unforgettable.

I had been the controls - maybe 20 minutes while Pilot gently coached my unsteady hands.

From the back of the plane we heard people retching. 

I guess you'd better give me back the wheel, Pilot grinned.

 I ducked out of the cockpit and sidled back to the passenger cabin, avoiding eye contact with the three passengers.

General didn't vomit. General did give a curious look in my direction as Co-Pilot brushed past me and took back his seat.

Airgirl glared at me.

You had the wheel, didn't you!

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