I read this post yesterday, and was going to comment, but didn't have time. I came back today, and read
@Witmo's post. Serendipity.
What I was going to write was how, during one of my summers while attending the Colorado School for Wayward Boys, I was sent for 3 weeks to RAF Upper Heyford. It would have been the summer of 1989. For me, this summer was amazing. It was the first time out of the US for me, not including a family trip to Canada. I and five other of my classmates tearing up England as 19 and 20 year olds. Taking the train to London, chatting up "birds" in the pub, the list goes on.
Ostensibly, the trip was called "Operation Air Force" and the idea was that cadets would fan out to various bases all over the world and would spend three weeks seeing what the "real Air Force" was like. We'd spend a few days shadowing junior officers in different career fields so we got an idea of maybe what we wanted to do after graduation. A few days with the Security Forces, a couple more in Maintenance, then a couple in Intel. A few days shadowing a Personnel officer (I think we
all played hookey for that tour). It was all very interesting, and it gave us a bit of an appreciation for other jobs, but it was all pretty much lost on us, because we were almost all PQ (pilot qualified) and we just wanted to hang out in Ops with the crews.
At night, after 6 hours of learning the intricacies of how to change a F-111 tire (basically, standing over three Enlisted Crew Chiefs, watching them change a tire). We would sit outside our BOQ rooms, drink beer and watch 30-foot blue flames shoot out of the back of the F-111s as they launched at dusk for night training sorties. We'd share our hopes and aspirations that in a few years, that might be us. We were young, wide-eyed, and motivated and all we wanted to do was "fly, fight, and win."
Finally, towards the end of the three weeks, in the most obvious case of "saving the best for last," we headed to Ops.
That's why we were there. And those days spent in Ops were exactly what these young pilots-to-be needed. Learning what the day-to-day of an AF pilot was like. Okay... so the curtain was pulled back a bit and we saw that it wasn't all flying around, hair on fire... it was maybe long days in the vault, scheduling duties, paperwork, etc. But that didn't deter us, because that was all the price of admission. At the end of the week, we could cash in all our chits for our E-ticket ride in an F-111. We did egress training with the life support folks, got fitted for a helmet and mask, briefed and stepped to our jet. All I remember that this thing was
massive. I was lucky enough, the summer prior to get an F-16 ride out at Luke AFB, and I just remember how much smaller the -16 was to this. The crew chief helped strap me in, and off we went. The flight was a blur, and I wish I had more vivid memories of it. I know we did a low-level through Scotland and the scenery was just fantastic, and I was able to keep from filling my sick-sack until we went into the break turn back at Upper Heyford.
But, from that ride, a F-111 fan was born. That's all I wanted to fly from that point on. I wanted to go to flight school, earn my wings, and get an F-111. That was my singular goal. Mother Air Force had other plans, though. The 90s were a rough time for pilots in the Air Force, with a huge surplus of pilots, and not nearly enough cockpits to put them in. The AF started to "bank" pilots... letting them finish flight training, but sending them to a desk job for 3-4 years to wait out this pilot "bubble" we had before getting back into an airplane. A full 2/3 of my UPT class was "banked." I was one of the lucky ones who did well enough to get an airplane straight out of training, but it wasn't the -111 I had been dreaming of. In fact, our class had exactly zero fighter cockpits. The number one graduate would usually have his pick of assignment... F-15C, F-16, A-10, whatever... our number one graduate took a C-141. That's what a year of hard work, top grades and excellent airmanship got you in late 1992.
C'est la vie. That's all in the past, and I'm happy of my lot in life. But every once in a while, I'll see a picture or video of an F-111, or one mounted on a stick like they have at the Santa Fe airport, and think "if only..."