Sunday, 9 August 1970 -- Storlien, F4-Froson/Ostersund

Still feeling a little rough from my head cold, I "passed" on the morning's field trip. The rest of the group was taken over to nearby Are for a hiking on the mountain "Areskuten", which tops out at about 5,000 feet; not the kind of thing I was up to. I slept in then went down and played some putt-putt to kill time.

The group returned late in the morning and we all did some packing and generally milled around until lunchtime. After, it was that long ride again -- about 5 hours -- back to F4. In all, it had been just your usual relaxing weekend at a nice alpine resort!!

Pulling in at F4 at about 1700 that afternoon, we were just in time to change for a banquet. Our host was the President of the District Council, comparable to a regional governor, I think.

On the way back to our rooms at the base, the conversation stopped almost on cue. Everyone realized that we'd just finished our last weekend in Sweden.

Monday, 10 August 1970 -- F4, F8-Barkarby, Stockholm

It was time to turn in our hiking gear and pack for departure to F8, just outside of Stockholm. F8 had been our starting point a few weeks ago and now the visit was coming full circle. The International Air Cadet Exchange was fast coming to a close...

The C-47 touched down at F8 and we returned to some familiar-looking barracks. After lunch, we bussed into Stockholm for an afternoon of free time and that sparked-up spirits a bit.

Our Swedish buddies proudly escorted past several government buildings and over to the King's Palace. It was just time for the changing of the guard and we watched the ceremony. In all, it was pretty straightforward.

"Well, THIS isn't Buckingham Palace", sniffed one of the Brits, which got a dirty look from one of the Swedish guys.

The palace guards were togged out in plain green Army uniforms and armed with efficient-looking Swedish K's. No cavalry and chromed helmets, no marching troops with scarlet tunics; it was really short on pomp and circumstance.

Basically, the outgoing guard platoon formed up in the palace square and the new platoon formed up facing them. There was a perfunctory inspection, the National Anthem was played, then came the actual changing of the guards.

On command the new and old guards simply scrambled past each other to exchange places. Maybe I missed the deeper significance, but it looked like a football scrimmage to me.

We went to an authentic Italian pizzeria for some of the "real thing" and yet another shot of culture shock. The pizza came out with something of a new look to us -- it was cut into squares, not the wedge-shaped slices we were used to. Not to be deterred, though, we dove right in and each picked up a piece and started eating, it was delicious.

Suddenly, it seemed that the whole place was quiet and everyone was looking at us. It took a moment to figure out, then we put down our pieces and picked up our silverware and ate like everyone else was doing; Continental-style, too.

The Grona Lund Tivoli was our next stop, a few rides, some slot machines and a visit to that memorable "magic" show rounded out the evening.

Back at F8, I just couldn't sleep -- tomorrow was to be our last full day in country -- and so decided to take a walk. The evening air was clear and the sky was filled with stars; I wandered down the lane toward the main gate, just reliving the last few weeks...

"HALT!!" a voice barked. I didn't really understand what word was said but the meaning was clear, so I froze. An armed guard came over while another covered me with a machine gun.

After a short, one-sided discussion in broken English, they figured out who I was. Then, "You will go to bed now, please!"

With no further urging I trudged back up the road and followed the instructions to the letter.

Tuesday, 11 August 1970 -- F8, Stockholm, Lindingo

The last full day in country was spent with a wrap-up visit to the "Flygstaben", the RSAF headquarters. There we met the deputy Commander-in-Chief of the Royal Swedish Air Force, a personable ranking Officer. In a receiving line we each expressed our sincere appreciation for the outstanding hospitality they'd shared.

After another propaganda movie about the RSAF, we were back out into Stockholm for some more free time. After another visit to the pizzeria (we Yanks remembered our knives and forks this time) our bus took us to nearby Lidingo.

Lidingo is the home of AGA, a Swedish conglomerate, known for its' electronics, navigational aids and SCUBA-related equipment. There was a film on the company and a visit an assembly operation. Here the electronic guidance systems for Swedish Navy torpedoes were fabricated and installed. We also went over to an indoor test pool where SCUBA gear was demonstrated.

The banquet that night was billed as our "farewell" dinner; and we didn't really need the reminder that this was our last formal meal in Sweden. My trip notes recalled that it was "excellent".

Afterward, everyone was really subdued, but we all vowed to stay in touch. We even swore that we would meet at the pizzeria in Stockholm in ten years (NOTE: I did start a little newsletter for us that lasted about a year and we all exchanged Christmas cards for a few years thereafter). Back at F8, I packed, showered and shaved, because I figured the next day would be hectic.

Wednesday, 12 August 1970 -- F8, Rhein-Main

At 0730 I awoke and went over with the guys for breakfast at 0800. Everyone was trying to make little jokes, but mostly tried to avoid eye contact. This was our last day in Sweden.

We'd all gathered in the common room of our barracks. Our farewell to Cadets Per Berglund and Gunnar Hogling and to RSAF Escorts Captain Nilsson and Lieutenant Pettersson was very simple. In turn, we each walked up and gave them little tokens of appreciation. Some CAP Cadets had Wing patches, others pins from their flying clubs, we'd tacitly agreed that it should be something personal and from each guy's country.

I gave Captain Nilsson the key to the City of New Orleans and the official proclamation naming him an Honorary Citizen that I'd carried throughout the trip. For a bunch of guys who'd weathered no telling how many speeches, receptions and banquets, we just didn't have a lot to say...

"I must go now before I weep," Captain Nilsson, our senior RSAF escort told us.

Next it was out to the flight line. We were issued our passports, which were officially stamped has having us been in and out of the country on the same day (bureaucracy is universal). Then we shot a few last pictures and loaded our luggage on a Norwegian C-130 for the flight back to Rhein-Main AB.

I jotted a note in my little notebook that I'd "...left a beautiful land 11:20:15." I left my watch set on Sweden's time for over a year after that...

The C-130 touched down in Germany at about 1445 local and it was time to get busy. Luggage was loaded onto trucks and we were bussed over to the transient quarters on the base. No sooner did we get settled when, yep, it was time to change for another banquet.

We were officially welcomed back to the Rhein-Main Air Base at the Officer's Club (again). The guest speaker was none other than Chuck Yeager, then Vice-Commander of the 7th Air Force (or something like that). General Yeager was the first man to fly faster than the speed of sound and was a world-renowned test pilot. I was properly awed at being in the presence of this great and courageous man who is a genuine American Hero. I even remembered to sneak out, intercept him and an aide, and get an autograph -- WOW!!!

At the barracks I repacked and set out clothes for the next day, I suspected it was going to be a long one.