Max's Big Adventure
Late Wednesday night I found out there was space for me on the Miss Mitchell heading out East to Mystic for the Doolittle 63rd Reunion.
It was like someone handed me a ticket to Heaven.
I got to Fleming Field in South St.Paul early the next morning, preparations were already underway. This is where the Minnesota Wing of the CAF (Commemorative Air Force) keeps its planes. I couldn't believe this was really happening, I was going to ride in a B-25 bomber!
Beyond my family and friends and my work as an artist there are five things I love most in this world.-
Planes
Boats
WWII history
Travel and
Photo Safaris
On this trip I was going to have all five, I was psyched! I was like a five-year-old at Christmas in Disneyworld with the Power Rangers.
Flying in the bomber was a spectacular experience. Our relatively low altitude meant we had great views of the ground, here is Chicago as we fly right over.
We stopped to refuel at a small airport in Indiana and just happened to meet up with another B-25 pilot who had an office full of memorabilia. Military aircraft and the pilots who fly them have a long standing relationship with photographers and logo artists so while I don't fly, I felt in good company and I love to hear flying stories.
On the second leg of the trip I got to ride in the front section of the plane and wasted no time squeezing through this low passageway to the nose of the plane.
I got into place just as we flew over Cleveland.
Wow, what a view!
The object that looks like a camera is the famous Norden bombsight that was a top secret item during the war. Peering through the crosshairs of the eyepiece you get a very intimate feeling of what this plane was for. The control box to the left was used by the bombardier to open the bomb-bay doors and release the bombs.
The adventure just kept getting better and better. I was actually allowed to sit in the pilot's seat and fly the plane for 15 minutes or so. It was nerve racking and exhilarating at the same time. Pilot Doug Rozendaal was right there to lend a hand but I really was flying the plane! Notice I have on a winter coat, we were flying at 11,500 feet and it was pretty chilly in the unheated, unpressurized, uninsulated plane.
When we arrived we got a very special treat, one of the Doolittle Raiders, Dick Cole, was there to greet us. Meeting him was better than meeting any movie star or famous politician, it was a real honor.
We were also met by John Burton who was instrumental in arranging to have us at the event. He was our guide and friend during the trip and took us to some great places.
He brought us out to St. Edmund's Ender's Island, a tiny island retreat.
Staying here was perfect for me, the Atlantic Ocean lapping at the shores outside my window. Did I mention that I love being ocean side as well?
Our first event was a meet and greet for the Raiders and the public at the Groton Utilities building. Director Glenn Wilson put together a great little show and good food too. It was neat to see the Raiders, some of whom hadn't seen each other in a while, saying hello to one another.
The Raiders brought their wives as well and there was a festive feel to the march into the building.
That night we had a great time in a local pub, the Harp and Hound, singing sea shanties with the friendly locals. The next morning John treated us to breakfast at an original dining car diner, the trip just kept getting better and better.
We were very privileged to witness the goblet ceremony that morning. Doug poses with one of the cadets charged with keeping the silver goblets safe. There is one goblet for every man that flew on the mission, 80 in all. Each goblet is inscribed with a crewman's name right side up on one side and upside down on the other.
The Raiders called roll call and read the names of each man. When a Raider dies his goblet is turned upside down. Thankfully, this year no goblets were turned over. The men drank a toast to their fallen brethren.
Later on that afternoon we met up with one of our fellow sea shanty singers, the ship's carpenter of the Amistad, a recreation of a very old slave ship made famous by the movie of the same name.
On our travels we also got to see the display of submarines at the U.S. Navy Submarine Force Museum.
On Saturday it was the plane's turn to shine, during a pilot's briefing, Doug worked with the other pilots to form a plan on how they would conduct the flyover and also serve the needs of a film crew that would be tagging along.
I would have loved to go along on this flight and photograph the other planes in close formation but there were many other folks that wanted to do the same and I had already flown all the way out here. Dick Cole was along on the mission and flew the plane with Terry Stern, a thrill for both.
I placed myself among the tall ships at the Seaport Museum to witness the flyover and the Missing Man formation to honor those who've gone ahead.
That night there was another great party in a hangar at the airport and a letter from President Bush was read congratulating the Doolittle Raiders.
In the morning the plane was prepped for our ride home. Larry checks something or other on the right engine of the plane, these guys sure know a lot about these planes.
It was all a mystery to me.
The last thing to do before climbing on board it to do a hydraulic check of the engines by manually turning the prop a few times, it's a two man job.
We got one last glimpse of Ender's Island, the far patch of land, on our turn away from the coast.
We had a great flight back, dodged some rain and poor visibility and got home on time. The work wasn't done though, the other planes needed to be moved out of the hangar to make way for the Miss Mitchell. Like so many things involved with these planes, it was a team effort.
Terry had one more piloting job to do, ease the plane into the hangar with about a foot to spare on each side of the hangar. Does this look like fun? You can join the CAF by clicking here.
Throughout this wonderful weekend I thought of my father often, he loved old planes and flying stories and instilled that love in me. I hope to pass on this legacy to my son as well, these planes and the men who flew them deserve the honor we accord them and I hope we never forget their sacrifices. Plus, it's just plane fun!!