DocBoink hits a CAT (1967)

My bird sits on the ramp, ready to roll out

Just as soon as I secure my sorry ass

In the aft cockpit of 57-2545.

Today I’m merely extra cargo,

Extra weight to mess up the bird’s CG

And complicate my driver’s mission.

As a medical stiff,

I must get my monthly hours in,

And this time around

I’ve strapped on

25,000 pounds of aluminum

Hitched to 20,000 pounds of raw thrust.

It’s a cold winter day on the Minot ramp

But my palms are sweaty.

Preflight completed,

Canopy down & locked,

I hear “Don’t touch anything, Doc!”

And “If we need to get out quick

I’ll say ‘EJECT! EJECT! EJECT!’

If you hear the third ‘EJECT'

You’ll be talking to yourself”

And then we’re lurching

Towards the active runway.

I realise I’m already breathing

A bit too heavily

Into my rubber MBU-5/P

Oxygen mask

And my helmet weighs a ton.

There’s a reason why

I’m always a passenger,

Rather than a righteous

Brother of the front-seat fraternity:

My equilibrium is too fragile

To handle high-G on a

Regular basis.

And I’m a nervous flier!

Some ‘hero’.

I mention this again

To my driver:

“Don’t do anything fancy,

Just nice & easy, OK?”

I can’t see the wicked grin

Spreading over his masked face

As the possibilities

Of my request dawn on him.

“Roger that, Doc.

Nice & smooth it is!”

Then the engine of the Six

Spools up, airframe shuddering

Like a wild stallion straining

At the gate, BLAM!

We’re lit and a pissed-off mule

Has just kicked me

Square in the ass!

Once at cruise

The Six suddenly goes crazy,

Yanking and banking

All over the sky!

Nice & easy…sure!

“Ahhh, we musta hit some CAT, Doc.”

[Translation: “Let’s get Doc sick

And throw-up

In his oxygen mask!”]

Positive G follows negative G

In a truly sadistic display

Of how perversely us medical stiffs

Are regarded by the pilots.

Fortunately, I had eaten lightly.

I only barely managed to not

Lose my cookies, despite

His twisted sense of humor.

How well I recall the look

Of surprise and disappointment

On his face

When he saw

That there was no mess

In my cockpit

For the bird’s crewchief

To piss & moan about.

The next time out, I wasn’t

Quite so lucky! The crewchief

Got a whole case of beer

After my flight...

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(Note: the wonderful caricature appearing up top is the product of Dick Stultz, former chief of flight test at McClellan ALC and artiste extraordinaire. Thanks, Taz.)