Probably one of the most cherished memories of a Civil Air Patrol Cadet were those orientation flights in military aircraft. Flying!! -- that is what CAP was all about!! And it didn't get any better than to fly in a military plane!!!

Our Squadron, Moisant Cadet Squadron, met out at the Alvin Callendar Naval Air Station, down river from New Orleans. Aviation was all around us, every branch of the service, except Army Aviation, was represented there. The roar of jets and the smell of JP-4 was with us from the time we started our meeting until we wrapped-up every Friday night. We couldn't wait to fly in one of those babies!!!

Being on an active military installation had some real advantages, too. Want to visit an active flight line? There was one a hundred yards away. Visit a "ready shed" to see F-102's with nuclear-tipped Falcon missiles on runway alert? You bet -- but it took a bit of doing -- since the Air Force was so fussy about guarding it's nukes. Yes, being out at Callendar, despite the hour-long drive from Metairie, was definitely worth it.

The 926th Tactical Airlift Group (AFRES) was also based there and flew the venerable C-119 "Flying Boxcar", that had made its' debut, I believe, in the Korean Conflict. Since then the 926th went on to have the C-130 Hercules, then converted into a Tactical Fighter Group as Vietnam wound down. But back then they flew the "119"....

The "119" was a medium-range, two-engine tactical transport. It hauled cargo pallets, or a light vehicle like jeeps, and is probably best known for dropping paratroops. The bulbous fuselage hung under the wings and it looked like a pregnant guppy. It had two clamshell doors in back so that cargo could roll on and off quickly. It also came with twin tail booms above and behind the fuselage and you could watch them wag back and forth in flight.

Older Cadets, used to this feature, would often have rookie Cadets check the tail booms, after explaining to them that the first sign of wing failure was when they started wagging back and forth. The panicked report brought back by the rookies was always the source of great amusement...

One thing never varied, though, and that was the standard safety briefing always given before any flight aboard a military aircraft. These were given by the Crew Chief who was usually a no-nonsense NCO. The pilot may have flown the plane but, By God!, the plane BELONGED to the Crew Chief. Cross the "Chief" and you might find yourself floating home on the end of a parachute. Which brings me to the point of the story....

Passengers and crew in a "119" wore parachutes. This was considered necessary by the Air Force because the plane only had two engines. Moreover, if one of the engines conked out it exhibited the flying characteristics of a brick. If you had a problem in a "119" it was time to "hit the silk".

The Crew Chief, had us gather around the pilot's side of the fuselage, and handed out 'chutes. He demonstrated how to untangle the various webbed straps until the whole rig made sense. You'd first put the 'chute on like a coat and fasten the waist and chest straps. You'd then bend over, reach down and run the leg straps between your legs and fasten the straps to the waist belt, forming kind of a seat. This rig -- that looked like an elephant's jock strap -- was to cradle you safely to the ground under your canopy.

After having to re-explain and show this again to about 10 - 15 Cadets he was getting a little pissed-off.

"OK-OK, listen-up (they always said that)" he continued, "Now bend over again, pull the leg straps tight against your thighs, and stand up when you're finished".

This was obviously his favorite part because if your leg straps were hooked up wrong, then stood up too quickly the straps bit into your groin with predictable consequences. A few surprised screams told the Old Sarge that this was, indeed, a bunch of brand-new "cherries" ripe for the picking -- this was going to be fun!!

"OK-OK, listen-up" he grinned, just warming up, "If you hear the warning bell (a helper in the cockpit dutifully rang it), you stand up, walk to the rear of the plane and we'll throw you out....."

A voice piped-up, cutting him off, "Hey, Sarge, why don't some of us just jump out the front door there..."

The "119" had a crew door on the pilot's side of the plane, you'd climb up a short ladder and were quickly inside. What the "IQ Kid" missed was a minor design detail, namely, that the propeller on that side was right by the door. Also, the clearance between the prop and the fuselage was about 12-18 inches. It didn't take a degree in aeronautical engineering to know that any one attempting THAT bailout would hop into the propeller and emerge as a red cloud of sushi drifting aft.

"OK-OK, listen-up" the Sarge fixed the "IQ Kid" with a glare, "YOU do it..."

This was turning into a long day for the Sarge, and we hadn't even gotten off of the ground, yet.

"OK-OK listen-up, next, when you bail out, hold the rip cord handle here, count to ten and pull it straight out to deploy your 'chute"

We heard a popping sound and the rustle of cloth. A fast look told the Sarge his fears had come true -- the "IQ Kid" did as he'd been told and deployed his chute. Now, he was standing waist-deep in parachute silk...

The Sarge did have the last laugh, though. When we were airborne the "Kid" asked him what those funnel-like objects mounted about waist-high on each of the clam-shell doors were.

"OK-OK listen-up, that's how we talk to the pilots." he explained to the kid, "go ahead, try it out."

I think the "Kid" walked back to check them out, but the uproarious laughter stopped him from trying to talk into one -- they were the urinals for the troops...

The rest of the flight was pretty uneventful. We were tired and subdued which, no doubt, suited the "Old Sarge" just fine. We were flying back from summer encampment at Keesler AFB; heck, we were even too tired to be air sick...(to his great disappointment, no doubt!).