Humorous Aviation anecdotes "warning:possibly offensive
Mon Jun 27, 2005 12:24 am
Someone just sent me the following, which I found amusing. Sorry if it offends people.
An airline's passenger cabin was being served by an
obviously gay flight attendant, who seemed to put everyone in a
good mood as he served them food and drinks.
As the plane prepared to descend, he came swishing
down the aisle and announced to the passengers, Captain Marvey has
asked me to announce that he'll be landing the big scary plane
shortly, so lovely people, if you could just put your trays up, that
would be super."
On his trip back up the aisle, he noticed a well-dressed rather
exotic
looking woman hadn't moved a muscle. "Perhaps you didn't hear me
over
those big brute engines. I asked you to raise your trazy-poo, so the
main man can pitty-pat us on the ground."
She calmly turned her head and said, "In my country, I am called a
Princess.
I take orders from no one."
To which the flight attendant replied, without missing a beat, "Well,
sweet-cheeks, in my country
I'm called a Queen, so I out rank you.
"Tray-up, B i t c h."
All right people, I know you got some funny ones. Only rules are nothing graphically or excessively profane and it has to have something to do with aviation, even if only vaguely.
An airline's passenger cabin was being served by an
obviously gay flight attendant, who seemed to put everyone in a
good mood as he served them food and drinks.
As the plane prepared to descend, he came swishing
down the aisle and announced to the passengers, Captain Marvey has
asked me to announce that he'll be landing the big scary plane
shortly, so lovely people, if you could just put your trays up, that
would be super."
On his trip back up the aisle, he noticed a well-dressed rather
exotic
looking woman hadn't moved a muscle. "Perhaps you didn't hear me
over
those big brute engines. I asked you to raise your trazy-poo, so the
main man can pitty-pat us on the ground."
She calmly turned her head and said, "In my country, I am called a
Princess.
I take orders from no one."
To which the flight attendant replied, without missing a beat, "Well,
sweet-cheeks, in my country
I'm called a Queen, so I out rank you.
"Tray-up, B i t c h."
All right people, I know you got some funny ones. Only rules are nothing graphically or excessively profane and it has to have something to do with aviation, even if only vaguely.
Mon Jun 27, 2005 2:18 pm
A British Airways aircraft was on final approach using the GCA. The controller radio'd to the aircraft "You are on glide path, left of centerline" The very British pilot radio'd back "Of course I'm left of centerline. My First Officer is right of centerline"
Mon Jun 27, 2005 2:38 pm
Taxiing down the tarmac, the DC10 abruptly stopped, turned around and returned to the gate. After an hour-long wait, it finally took off. A concerned passenger asked the flight attendant, "What was the problem?" "The pilot was bothered by a noise he heard in the engine," explained the flight attendant," and it took us a while to find a new pilot."
One day, the pilot of a Cherokee 180 was told by the tower to hold short of the runway while a DC-8 landed. The DC-8 landed, rolled out, turned around, and taxied back past the Cherokee. Some quick witted comedian in the DC-8 crew got on the radio and said, "What a cute little plane. Did you make it all by yourself?" The Cherokee pilot, not about to let the insult go by, came back with a real zinger: "I made it out of DC-8 parts. Another landing like that and I'll have enough parts for another one."
There's a story about the military pilot calling for a priority landing because his single-engine jet fighter was running "a bit peaked". Air Traffic Control told the fighter jock that he was number two behind a B-52 that had one engine shut down. "Ah", the pilot remarked, " the dreaded seven-engine approach".
One day, the pilot of a Cherokee 180 was told by the tower to hold short of the runway while a DC-8 landed. The DC-8 landed, rolled out, turned around, and taxied back past the Cherokee. Some quick witted comedian in the DC-8 crew got on the radio and said, "What a cute little plane. Did you make it all by yourself?" The Cherokee pilot, not about to let the insult go by, came back with a real zinger: "I made it out of DC-8 parts. Another landing like that and I'll have enough parts for another one."
There's a story about the military pilot calling for a priority landing because his single-engine jet fighter was running "a bit peaked". Air Traffic Control told the fighter jock that he was number two behind a B-52 that had one engine shut down. "Ah", the pilot remarked, " the dreaded seven-engine approach".
Mon Jun 27, 2005 2:51 pm
dunno if it's an urban legend or what, but here it goes:
A Lufthansa Airbus is asking the GC permission to leave a gate at Frankfurt, the pilot makes the call in german and the GC replies "Please use english for radio communications". The old german replies stiff "I am a german pilot flying a german plane of a german kompany in germany, I dont zee why I shoult speak english.." and someone with a brit accent replied "Because u lost the bloody war!!"
Alex
A Lufthansa Airbus is asking the GC permission to leave a gate at Frankfurt, the pilot makes the call in german and the GC replies "Please use english for radio communications". The old german replies stiff "I am a german pilot flying a german plane of a german kompany in germany, I dont zee why I shoult speak english.." and someone with a brit accent replied "Because u lost the bloody war!!"
Alex
Wed Jun 29, 2005 10:44 am
Those are great. Keep em coming
Wed Jun 29, 2005 12:40 pm
An airliner was asking a busy controller at Berlin's airport for progressive taxi instructions to the gate. The controller asked the pilot in a veeerry put out tone, haf you nevr been to Berlin before ? The pilot answered , yes in 1944 but I didn't STOP !!!
Wed Jun 29, 2005 3:49 pm
This ones a little tougher to write than tell, you can get more out of it that way! anyways...here goes....it's a classic, you guys probably heard this before.
A US WWII fighter pilot comes into a classroom as a guest speaker to talk to a class about his exploits in WWII. He explains he flew a p-47 thunderbolt to the kids, and starts to explain one of his battles.
"We were to meet up with some bombers, when suddenly, these fockers come out of the sun and jump us. Flew right through our formation, and I went after one of these fockers.....
The teacher, a little nervous, interjects, telling her kids, students, what the pilot is refering to is a Focke-Wulf, a German Fighter plane.
The pilot looks over and says, "Hell no, they were Messerschmitts!"
A US WWII fighter pilot comes into a classroom as a guest speaker to talk to a class about his exploits in WWII. He explains he flew a p-47 thunderbolt to the kids, and starts to explain one of his battles.
"We were to meet up with some bombers, when suddenly, these fockers come out of the sun and jump us. Flew right through our formation, and I went after one of these fockers.....
The teacher, a little nervous, interjects, telling her kids, students, what the pilot is refering to is a Focke-Wulf, a German Fighter plane.
The pilot looks over and says, "Hell no, they were Messerschmitts!"
Short anecdotes
Fri Jul 01, 2005 5:31 pm
Not new, but still funny... especially the too much gas one 
Though I Fly Through the Valley of Death ..I Shall Fear No Evil. For I am at 80,000 Feet and Climbing! (Sign over the entrance to the old SR-71 operating base Kadena, Japan).
------------------------------------------------------
You've never been lost until you've been lost at Mach 3. (Paul F. Crickmore -test pilot)
------------------------------------------------------
The only time you have too much fuel is when you're on fire.
------------------------------------------------------
Blue water Navy truism: There are more planes in the ocean than
submarines in the sky. (From an old carrier sailor)
-------------------------------------------------------
If the wings are traveling faster than the fuselage, it's probably a helicopter -- and therefore, unsafe
-------------------------------------------------------
When one engine fails on a twin-engine airplane you always have enough power left to get you to the scene of the crash.
-------------------------------------------------------
Without ammunition, the USAF would be just another expensive flying club.
-------------------------------------------------------
What is the similarity between air traffic controllers and pilots?
If a pilot screws up, the pilot dies; If ATC screws up, ...the pilot dies.
--------------------------------------------------------
Never trade luck for skill.
--------------------------------------------------------
The three most common expressions (or famous last words) in aviation are: "Why is it doing that?", "Where are we?" and "Oh sugar!"
-------------------------------------------------------
Weather forecasts are horoscopes with numbers.
-------------------------------------------------------
Progress in airline flying: now a flight attendant can get a pilot pregnant.
-------------------------------------------------------
Airspeed, altitude and brains. Two are always needed to successfully complete the flight.
-------------------------------------------------------
A smooth landing is mostly luck; two in a row is all luck; three in a row is prevarication.
-------------------------------------------------------
I remember when sex was safe and flying was dangerous.
-------------------------------------------------------
Mankind has a perfect record in aviation; we never left one up there!
-------------------------------------------------------
Flashlights are tubular metal containers kept in a flight bag for the purpose of storing dead batteries
--------------------------------------------------------
Flying the airplane is more important than radioing your plight to a person on the ground incapable of under-standing or doing anything about it.
--------------------------------------------------------
When a flight is proceeding incredibly well, something was forgotten.
--------------------------------------------------------
Just remember, if you crash because of weather, your funeral will be held on a sunny day.
--------------------------------------------------------
Advice given to RAF pilots during WWII:
When a prang (crash) seems inevitable, endeavor to strike the softest, cheapest object in the vicinity as slow and gently as possible.
-------------------------------------------------------
The Piper Cub is the safest airplane in the world; ...it can just barely kill you.
(Attributed to Max Stanley, Northrop test pilot)
-------------------------------------------------------
A pilot who doesn't have any fear probably isn't flying his plane to its maximum.
(Jon McBride, astronaut)
-------------------------------------------------------
If you're faced with a forced landing, fly the thing as far into the crash as possible.
(Bob Hoover - renowned aerobatic and test pilot)
-------------------------------------------------------
Never fly in the same cockpit with someone braver than you.
-------------------------------------------------------
There is no reason to fly through a thunderstorm in peacetime.(Sign over squadron ops desk at Davis-Monthan AFB, AZ, 1970).
--------------------------------------------------------
The three best things in life are a good landing, a good orgasm, and, a good bowel movement. The night carrier landing is one of the few opportunities in life where you get to experience all three at the same time.
(Author unknown, but surely someone who's been there)
--------------------------------------------------------
If something hasn't broken on your helicopter, it's about to.
--------------------------------------------------------
Basic Flying Rules:
Try to stay in the middle of the air. Do not go near the edges of it.
The edges of the air can be recognized by the appearance of ground, buildings, sea, trees and interstellar space. It is much more difficult to fly there.
Though I Fly Through the Valley of Death ..I Shall Fear No Evil. For I am at 80,000 Feet and Climbing! (Sign over the entrance to the old SR-71 operating base Kadena, Japan).
------------------------------------------------------
You've never been lost until you've been lost at Mach 3. (Paul F. Crickmore -test pilot)
------------------------------------------------------
The only time you have too much fuel is when you're on fire.
------------------------------------------------------
Blue water Navy truism: There are more planes in the ocean than
submarines in the sky. (From an old carrier sailor)
-------------------------------------------------------
If the wings are traveling faster than the fuselage, it's probably a helicopter -- and therefore, unsafe
-------------------------------------------------------
When one engine fails on a twin-engine airplane you always have enough power left to get you to the scene of the crash.
-------------------------------------------------------
Without ammunition, the USAF would be just another expensive flying club.
-------------------------------------------------------
What is the similarity between air traffic controllers and pilots?
If a pilot screws up, the pilot dies; If ATC screws up, ...the pilot dies.
--------------------------------------------------------
Never trade luck for skill.
--------------------------------------------------------
The three most common expressions (or famous last words) in aviation are: "Why is it doing that?", "Where are we?" and "Oh sugar!"
-------------------------------------------------------
Weather forecasts are horoscopes with numbers.
-------------------------------------------------------
Progress in airline flying: now a flight attendant can get a pilot pregnant.
-------------------------------------------------------
Airspeed, altitude and brains. Two are always needed to successfully complete the flight.
-------------------------------------------------------
A smooth landing is mostly luck; two in a row is all luck; three in a row is prevarication.
-------------------------------------------------------
I remember when sex was safe and flying was dangerous.
-------------------------------------------------------
Mankind has a perfect record in aviation; we never left one up there!
-------------------------------------------------------
Flashlights are tubular metal containers kept in a flight bag for the purpose of storing dead batteries
--------------------------------------------------------
Flying the airplane is more important than radioing your plight to a person on the ground incapable of under-standing or doing anything about it.
--------------------------------------------------------
When a flight is proceeding incredibly well, something was forgotten.
--------------------------------------------------------
Just remember, if you crash because of weather, your funeral will be held on a sunny day.
--------------------------------------------------------
Advice given to RAF pilots during WWII:
When a prang (crash) seems inevitable, endeavor to strike the softest, cheapest object in the vicinity as slow and gently as possible.
-------------------------------------------------------
The Piper Cub is the safest airplane in the world; ...it can just barely kill you.
(Attributed to Max Stanley, Northrop test pilot)
-------------------------------------------------------
A pilot who doesn't have any fear probably isn't flying his plane to its maximum.
(Jon McBride, astronaut)
-------------------------------------------------------
If you're faced with a forced landing, fly the thing as far into the crash as possible.
(Bob Hoover - renowned aerobatic and test pilot)
-------------------------------------------------------
Never fly in the same cockpit with someone braver than you.
-------------------------------------------------------
There is no reason to fly through a thunderstorm in peacetime.(Sign over squadron ops desk at Davis-Monthan AFB, AZ, 1970).
--------------------------------------------------------
The three best things in life are a good landing, a good orgasm, and, a good bowel movement. The night carrier landing is one of the few opportunities in life where you get to experience all three at the same time.
(Author unknown, but surely someone who's been there)
--------------------------------------------------------
If something hasn't broken on your helicopter, it's about to.
--------------------------------------------------------
Basic Flying Rules:
Try to stay in the middle of the air. Do not go near the edges of it.
The edges of the air can be recognized by the appearance of ground, buildings, sea, trees and interstellar space. It is much more difficult to fly there.
Fri Jul 01, 2005 6:49 pm
Little Johnie was playing in the yard with his to 727. he would land it and say all you mo Fuca want to get on get on and all you ma fuca that want to get off, Get off "Sounds Like Southwest huh". He did this several times and johnies mother saw him thru the kitchen screen door and Yelled " Johnie get in here! You won't use fowl language!" Johnie landed his plane and said sorry folks but were taking a fifteen minute delay due to the bi$%h in the kitchen!
Sat Jul 02, 2005 5:09 pm
The only Two things you should here from your wingman
1. Lead your on fire
2. Lead I'll take the fat chick
1. Lead your on fire
2. Lead I'll take the fat chick
Mon May 22, 2006 12:47 pm
Don't Frack With The FAC 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Messing with Forward Air Controllers
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
One of the best things about being in the gun platoon was the sense of superiority we felt over all things living. I mean, you take the age of each individual flying in a light fire team, add them up, and then divide by the amount of rockets aboard both ships, the rounds of 7.62 and 40 mm, and then subdivide by the pounds of fuel; and the sum result is the average age of maturity aboard the aircraft.
And then, the rules we lived by didn't particularly cause a certain conservative lifestyle. Let's see...
Rule 1: You can have all the ammo you want.
Rule 2: The vast areas that you will fly over are considered your domain, where you are free to kill and burn as you want.
Rule 3: The two aircraft together are worth over $1,000,000. If you break them, we will give you brand new ones.
So anyway, here we were cruising down life's highway -- actually Highway 13. I had my doorgun unhooked from the bungee, barrel out and laying on the floor, as did my gunner.
My feet were up on the cabin bulkhead; and I was slumped down, smoking a cigarette, drinking a beer from the cooler, and listening to rock and roll on AFVN via the ADF radio ... probably pretty much like I would have been doing at home in my 64 Chevy SS; but in this case, we were six feet off the highway, doing 90 knots, and trying to run cyclo carts into the ditches.
I casually glanced over at my gunner in time to see him sit up and stare out to the right front of the aircraft.
"Sir, aircraft 2 o'clock about two miles, looks like an FAC."
I sat up and looked across the aircraft through the pilot's window and could see him slightly higher then us, and we were catching up to him.
The FAC was a Forward Air Controller flying in an O-1 Birddog. It was a small, fixed-winged, observation plane. The Air Force used them to control the jet fighter bombers during air strikes, while the Army used theirs to correct artillery fire.
The aircraft commander in the left seat in front of me, reached down to the radio console and flipped his selector to Channel 3.
"Crossbow 31, 33. Close on us and join up in trail."
And then he turned and grinned at the pilot.
"Let's scare the **** out of the FAC!"
Our wingman called, "Formation up."
The AC said, "I've got it" and dropped the nose, picking up some speed.
We started closing on the FAC from slightly below his six o'clock position.
He appeared to be doing about 80 knots and was maybe at 200 feet. Actually, he was probably working; but he was at an altitude that almost guaranteed him some sheet metal damage from ground fire. He was painted gray, so we knew he was an Air Force FAC and not an Army Artillery spotter. That made it even more fun, because we rarely got to mess with the Air Force pukes.
As we closed on him from behind and low, we had built up our speed to a face-stretching 100 knots. The AC keyed his microphone and spoke with our wingman. "31, 33. We're going to pass under him and get out in front by a hundred yards or so, then climb out in front of him. Climbing now, then diving under him."
Then we did. We swooped up and then dived down with Crossbow 31 right beside us. As we passed under the FAC, I was laughing in glee as was Johnny my gunner. We zoomed ahead and then climbed swiftly; and, as Johnny and I looked back, we could see the O-1 Birddog hit our rotorwash and bounce all over the sky.
With a friendly wave out the back, we once again resumed our trip down Thunder Road leaving a trail of ditched pedicabs, angry Vietnamese, and vengeful-minded FAC pilots.
We were almost home, and I was debating whether or not to open another beer, when our wingman frantically called us.
"THREE THREE, THREE ONE!!!!"
As my pilot started to flip the radio selector to answer him, I saw Johnny sit up straight and rigid and stare straight out to the right. I tried to see what he was looking at, but I suddenly felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up; and I slowly turned to look out my side.
There were two, F-4 Phantom IIs, gear down, dive brakes open, with full flaps, cruising right along side me. They were probably doing twice our speed; but time seemed to stand still, as the front seater in the Phantom closest to us, casually raised his left hand with the middle digit raised.
As they passed to the front of us, they joined up with two more of their buddies, who had overtaken us on the right. With the precision of the famed Thunderbirds, they closed up a quarter mile in front of us, back into a finger-four formation. You could almost hear the flight call the marks...
"Gear up....NOW!"
"Brakes in...NOW!"
"Flaps up.....NOW!"
"Afterburners..NOW!"
And then suddenly they were gone, hidden from view by the burning explosion of eight Pratt and Whitney engines at full military power. The only thing we could see was the smokey contrails as they zoomed up out of sight. I could plainly hear the Aircraft Commander as he yelled, "OH, ****!!!!!"
Then we hit the little present that the zoomies had left for us. We went up and then down, and then up, down, up, down as the pilot fought to control our bird.
Ten minutes later, we had quietly hover taxied down the active runway to our revetments at Lai Khe. As we sat down, the FAC started his flyby down the length of the active runway, cheerfully giving us, out his open cockpit window, that special salute to fellow aviators that seemed to be used Air Force wide.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright © 1997 by James C. Harton Jr., All Rights Reserved
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Some more here at http://grunt.space.swri.edu/jhbio.htm Check-out
"The Sissies in Bluebird 1" and "Nah Be"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Messing with Forward Air Controllers
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
One of the best things about being in the gun platoon was the sense of superiority we felt over all things living. I mean, you take the age of each individual flying in a light fire team, add them up, and then divide by the amount of rockets aboard both ships, the rounds of 7.62 and 40 mm, and then subdivide by the pounds of fuel; and the sum result is the average age of maturity aboard the aircraft.
And then, the rules we lived by didn't particularly cause a certain conservative lifestyle. Let's see...
Rule 1: You can have all the ammo you want.
Rule 2: The vast areas that you will fly over are considered your domain, where you are free to kill and burn as you want.
Rule 3: The two aircraft together are worth over $1,000,000. If you break them, we will give you brand new ones.
So anyway, here we were cruising down life's highway -- actually Highway 13. I had my doorgun unhooked from the bungee, barrel out and laying on the floor, as did my gunner.
My feet were up on the cabin bulkhead; and I was slumped down, smoking a cigarette, drinking a beer from the cooler, and listening to rock and roll on AFVN via the ADF radio ... probably pretty much like I would have been doing at home in my 64 Chevy SS; but in this case, we were six feet off the highway, doing 90 knots, and trying to run cyclo carts into the ditches.
I casually glanced over at my gunner in time to see him sit up and stare out to the right front of the aircraft.
"Sir, aircraft 2 o'clock about two miles, looks like an FAC."
I sat up and looked across the aircraft through the pilot's window and could see him slightly higher then us, and we were catching up to him.
The FAC was a Forward Air Controller flying in an O-1 Birddog. It was a small, fixed-winged, observation plane. The Air Force used them to control the jet fighter bombers during air strikes, while the Army used theirs to correct artillery fire.
The aircraft commander in the left seat in front of me, reached down to the radio console and flipped his selector to Channel 3.
"Crossbow 31, 33. Close on us and join up in trail."
And then he turned and grinned at the pilot.
"Let's scare the **** out of the FAC!"
Our wingman called, "Formation up."
The AC said, "I've got it" and dropped the nose, picking up some speed.
We started closing on the FAC from slightly below his six o'clock position.
He appeared to be doing about 80 knots and was maybe at 200 feet. Actually, he was probably working; but he was at an altitude that almost guaranteed him some sheet metal damage from ground fire. He was painted gray, so we knew he was an Air Force FAC and not an Army Artillery spotter. That made it even more fun, because we rarely got to mess with the Air Force pukes.
As we closed on him from behind and low, we had built up our speed to a face-stretching 100 knots. The AC keyed his microphone and spoke with our wingman. "31, 33. We're going to pass under him and get out in front by a hundred yards or so, then climb out in front of him. Climbing now, then diving under him."
Then we did. We swooped up and then dived down with Crossbow 31 right beside us. As we passed under the FAC, I was laughing in glee as was Johnny my gunner. We zoomed ahead and then climbed swiftly; and, as Johnny and I looked back, we could see the O-1 Birddog hit our rotorwash and bounce all over the sky.
With a friendly wave out the back, we once again resumed our trip down Thunder Road leaving a trail of ditched pedicabs, angry Vietnamese, and vengeful-minded FAC pilots.
We were almost home, and I was debating whether or not to open another beer, when our wingman frantically called us.
"THREE THREE, THREE ONE!!!!"
As my pilot started to flip the radio selector to answer him, I saw Johnny sit up straight and rigid and stare straight out to the right. I tried to see what he was looking at, but I suddenly felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up; and I slowly turned to look out my side.
There were two, F-4 Phantom IIs, gear down, dive brakes open, with full flaps, cruising right along side me. They were probably doing twice our speed; but time seemed to stand still, as the front seater in the Phantom closest to us, casually raised his left hand with the middle digit raised.
As they passed to the front of us, they joined up with two more of their buddies, who had overtaken us on the right. With the precision of the famed Thunderbirds, they closed up a quarter mile in front of us, back into a finger-four formation. You could almost hear the flight call the marks...
"Gear up....NOW!"
"Brakes in...NOW!"
"Flaps up.....NOW!"
"Afterburners..NOW!"
And then suddenly they were gone, hidden from view by the burning explosion of eight Pratt and Whitney engines at full military power. The only thing we could see was the smokey contrails as they zoomed up out of sight. I could plainly hear the Aircraft Commander as he yelled, "OH, ****!!!!!"
Then we hit the little present that the zoomies had left for us. We went up and then down, and then up, down, up, down as the pilot fought to control our bird.
Ten minutes later, we had quietly hover taxied down the active runway to our revetments at Lai Khe. As we sat down, the FAC started his flyby down the length of the active runway, cheerfully giving us, out his open cockpit window, that special salute to fellow aviators that seemed to be used Air Force wide.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright © 1997 by James C. Harton Jr., All Rights Reserved
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Some more here at http://grunt.space.swri.edu/jhbio.htm Check-out
"The Sissies in Bluebird 1" and "Nah Be"
Mon May 22, 2006 1:36 pm
"Citation 123 if you quit calling me Center I'll quit calling you twin Cessna".
Mon May 22, 2006 1:40 pm
On a Luftansa flight out over the Atlantic:
Achtung! Achtung! Ladies und shentlemen, ve seem to have lost two hengines. Do not be alarmed. Zis airplane can fly just gut on ze two remaining hengines. Sit back und relax. Tank you for flying Luftansa.
(a short time later)
Achtung! Achtung! Ladies und shentlemen, ve seem to just have lost our ozer two hengines. Please, all de schwimmers move to ze right side of da plane, da non-schwimmers move to ze left side of de plane. Ven ve lant in za ocean, all de schwimers, please to exit out ze doors und inflate ze life rafts und you will zoon be rezcued. All de non-schwimmers, we like to tank you for flying Luftansa!
Achtung! Achtung! Ladies und shentlemen, ve seem to have lost two hengines. Do not be alarmed. Zis airplane can fly just gut on ze two remaining hengines. Sit back und relax. Tank you for flying Luftansa.
(a short time later)
Achtung! Achtung! Ladies und shentlemen, ve seem to just have lost our ozer two hengines. Please, all de schwimmers move to ze right side of da plane, da non-schwimmers move to ze left side of de plane. Ven ve lant in za ocean, all de schwimers, please to exit out ze doors und inflate ze life rafts und you will zoon be rezcued. All de non-schwimmers, we like to tank you for flying Luftansa!
Mon May 22, 2006 2:14 pm
From some blackbird pilots book:
I'll always remember a certain radio exchange that occurred one day as Walt and I were screaming across southern California 13 miles high. We were monitoring various radio transmissions from other aircraft as we entered Los Angeles Center's airspace. Though they didn't really control us, they did monitor our movement across their scope.
I heard a Cessna ask for a readout of its groundspeed. "90 knots," Center replied.
Moments later a Twin Beech required the same. "120 knots," Center answered.
We weren't the only ones proud of our speed that day, as almost instantly an F-18 smugly transmitted, "Ah, Center, Dusty 52 requests groundspeed readout." There was a slight pause. "525 knots on the ground, Dusty."
Another silent pause. As I was thinking to myself how ripe a situation this was, I heard the familiar click of a radio transmission coming from my back-seater. It was at that precise moment I realized Walt and I had become a real crew, for we were both thinking in unison.
"Center, Aspen 20, you got a groundspeed readout for us?" There was a longer-than-normal pause. "Aspen, I show one thousand seven hundred forty-two knots."
No further inquiries were heard on that frequency.
In another famous SR-71 story, Los Angeles Center reported receiving a request for clearance to FL 600 (60,000ft).
The incredulous controller, with some disdain in his voice, asked, "How do you plan to get up to 60,000 feet?
The pilot (obviously a sled driver), responded, " We don't plan to go up to it, we plan to come down to it..."
He was cleared..
-----------------------
Once, during the winter, we were flying one-v-one's with a couple of F-106's. A storm front moved in quickly and socked in the base while they were both still out. Instead of electing to divert to an alternate base they wanted land back at our base. The first one made it in okay, but visibility rapidly reduced to about zero by the time the first one touched down. As the second F-106 hit the deck, the blowing snow got so bad he could barely make out the runway.
Remaining calm, the pilot followed usual procedures thinking that at least the worst part of it was over. Then it came to his attention that the airspeed gage was still reading 35 mph. Applying more pressure on the brakes he noticed that the air speed was not changing. Panic sets in. Worried that he may be sliding down the runway he cuts the engine back to idle, hoping to engage the barrier he drops the tail hook. Still no change to the air speed. Could it be panic or is this the longest runway he has ever been on?
Suddenly there is a thud on the side of the cockpit. Looking over, he finds a ladder propped up against the side of the plane and a crash/rescue fireman climbing up the side of the plane. Carefully looking about he notices that the plane is sitting still. What he had been getting as an air speed indication was actually wind speed since the plane was facing directly into the wind.
--------------
Cessna: "Jones tower, Cessna 12345, student pilot, I am out of fuel."
Tower: "Roger Cessna 12345, reduce airspeed to best glide!! Do you have the airfield in sight?!?!!"
Cessna: "Uh...tower, I am on the south ramp; I just want to know where the fuel truck is.
-----------------------------------------
Student Naval Aviator (SNA) flying in back on an instrument hop, very lost, very flustered, inadvertently keys XMIT instead of ICS to tell Instructor Pilot (IP) he is less-than-optimally situationally aware:
SNA: (broadcasts to world) "Sir, I'm all do you kiss your mother with that mouth? up."
Whiting TWR: "Aircraft using obscenity, identify yourself."
(short pause)
IP: "My student said he was do you kiss your mother with that mouth? up; he didn't say he was stupid."
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While taxiing at London's Gatwick Airport, the crew of a US Air flight departing for Ft. Lauderdale made a wrong turn and came nose to nose with a United 727.
An irate female ground controller lashed out at the US Air crew, screaming: "US Air 2771, where the hell are you going?! I told you to turn right onto Charlie taxiway! You turned right on Delta! Stop right there. I know it's difficult for you to tell the difference between C and D, but get it right!"
Continuing her rage to the embarrassed crew, she was now shouting hysterically: "God! Now you've screwed everything up! It'll take forever to sort this out! You stay right there and don't move till I tell you to! You can expect progressive taxi instructions in about half an hour and I want you to go exactly where I tell you, when I tell you, and how I tell you! You got that, US Air 2771?"
US Air 2771: "Yes, ma'am," the humbled crew responded.
Naturally, the ground control communications frequency fell terribly silent after the verbal bashing of US Air 2771. Nobody wanted to chance engaging the irate ground controller in her current state of mind.
Tension in every cockpit out around Gatwick was definitely running high. Just then an unknown pilot broke the silence and keyed his microphone, asking: "Wasn't I married to you once
I'll always remember a certain radio exchange that occurred one day as Walt and I were screaming across southern California 13 miles high. We were monitoring various radio transmissions from other aircraft as we entered Los Angeles Center's airspace. Though they didn't really control us, they did monitor our movement across their scope.
I heard a Cessna ask for a readout of its groundspeed. "90 knots," Center replied.
Moments later a Twin Beech required the same. "120 knots," Center answered.
We weren't the only ones proud of our speed that day, as almost instantly an F-18 smugly transmitted, "Ah, Center, Dusty 52 requests groundspeed readout." There was a slight pause. "525 knots on the ground, Dusty."
Another silent pause. As I was thinking to myself how ripe a situation this was, I heard the familiar click of a radio transmission coming from my back-seater. It was at that precise moment I realized Walt and I had become a real crew, for we were both thinking in unison.
"Center, Aspen 20, you got a groundspeed readout for us?" There was a longer-than-normal pause. "Aspen, I show one thousand seven hundred forty-two knots."
No further inquiries were heard on that frequency.
In another famous SR-71 story, Los Angeles Center reported receiving a request for clearance to FL 600 (60,000ft).
The incredulous controller, with some disdain in his voice, asked, "How do you plan to get up to 60,000 feet?
The pilot (obviously a sled driver), responded, " We don't plan to go up to it, we plan to come down to it..."
He was cleared..
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Once, during the winter, we were flying one-v-one's with a couple of F-106's. A storm front moved in quickly and socked in the base while they were both still out. Instead of electing to divert to an alternate base they wanted land back at our base. The first one made it in okay, but visibility rapidly reduced to about zero by the time the first one touched down. As the second F-106 hit the deck, the blowing snow got so bad he could barely make out the runway.
Remaining calm, the pilot followed usual procedures thinking that at least the worst part of it was over. Then it came to his attention that the airspeed gage was still reading 35 mph. Applying more pressure on the brakes he noticed that the air speed was not changing. Panic sets in. Worried that he may be sliding down the runway he cuts the engine back to idle, hoping to engage the barrier he drops the tail hook. Still no change to the air speed. Could it be panic or is this the longest runway he has ever been on?
Suddenly there is a thud on the side of the cockpit. Looking over, he finds a ladder propped up against the side of the plane and a crash/rescue fireman climbing up the side of the plane. Carefully looking about he notices that the plane is sitting still. What he had been getting as an air speed indication was actually wind speed since the plane was facing directly into the wind.
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Cessna: "Jones tower, Cessna 12345, student pilot, I am out of fuel."
Tower: "Roger Cessna 12345, reduce airspeed to best glide!! Do you have the airfield in sight?!?!!"
Cessna: "Uh...tower, I am on the south ramp; I just want to know where the fuel truck is.
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Student Naval Aviator (SNA) flying in back on an instrument hop, very lost, very flustered, inadvertently keys XMIT instead of ICS to tell Instructor Pilot (IP) he is less-than-optimally situationally aware:
SNA: (broadcasts to world) "Sir, I'm all do you kiss your mother with that mouth? up."
Whiting TWR: "Aircraft using obscenity, identify yourself."
(short pause)
IP: "My student said he was do you kiss your mother with that mouth? up; he didn't say he was stupid."
------------------------
While taxiing at London's Gatwick Airport, the crew of a US Air flight departing for Ft. Lauderdale made a wrong turn and came nose to nose with a United 727.
An irate female ground controller lashed out at the US Air crew, screaming: "US Air 2771, where the hell are you going?! I told you to turn right onto Charlie taxiway! You turned right on Delta! Stop right there. I know it's difficult for you to tell the difference between C and D, but get it right!"
Continuing her rage to the embarrassed crew, she was now shouting hysterically: "God! Now you've screwed everything up! It'll take forever to sort this out! You stay right there and don't move till I tell you to! You can expect progressive taxi instructions in about half an hour and I want you to go exactly where I tell you, when I tell you, and how I tell you! You got that, US Air 2771?"
US Air 2771: "Yes, ma'am," the humbled crew responded.
Naturally, the ground control communications frequency fell terribly silent after the verbal bashing of US Air 2771. Nobody wanted to chance engaging the irate ground controller in her current state of mind.
Tension in every cockpit out around Gatwick was definitely running high. Just then an unknown pilot broke the silence and keyed his microphone, asking: "Wasn't I married to you once
Mon May 22, 2006 2:16 pm
A commercial flight was traveling through severe turbulence. Many of the passengers were getting sick and white knuckles were everywhere. One rather large unattractive woman suddenly lost it, stood up and started shouting" we're all going to die . we're going to crash" With this, she ran to the front of the cabin, turned around and yelled, "before I die, someone make me feel like a woman just one more time". Everyone sat still looking at one another. Finally, A well built handome man got up and started slowly walking toward her sexily unbuttoning one button at a time on his shirt. As he faced her, he undid the last button on his shirt and removed it and tossed it to her saying, " You wanna iron this and grab me a beer."