Folks,

Dux:

Yes, it happens now and again and for some reason I keep forgetting to backup my post as I type. The best thing is to type it offline and paste it in the box. No one is or should be complaining when I lose a post anyway. The sighs of relief are however almost deafening.

I am running into a spot of bother regarding the original HWH archive. Everything is there up to the end of page 13 dated 10/20/01 to 11/11/01. After that page, when I try accessing page 14 I get an error message saying no further pages are archived. The new HWH Continued thread begins weeks later on 1/2/02 so there seems to be a gap... I am not anywhere near page 13 yet so I won't concern myself with that until I am. I do recall that in addition to the big crash that at one point the software simply would not swallow any more posts. No one had ever conceived of a single thread running to that many pages. Possibly due to the length of this thread and doubtless at some extra expense this bug seems to have been corrected. We thank our generous admin.

I am aware of the rumor regarding "E" and Donna. The way I heard it they had a fling as co-stars are supposed to do and that she was sorely tempted but that, in the end, she remained unsatisfied.;)

Only "E" and Miss Douglas know for sure. It would be improper to ask the lady and, as for the gentleman in question, he just isn't saying much about anything these days.

Speaking of not saying much ... I'd appreciate it if those of you brave enough to read the following will refrain from commenting after the ordeal is over. Here is the next to last in the "flight Instructor" series. Did I hear cheers? You misundestood me...I said 'NEXT' to last not 'last'.

A Shadow of a Doubt
By: JRT
HWH Continued
Page 213
11/3/03

It is absolutely smashing to see you again old boy. Hmmmmm. I saw that grimace. Perhaps ‘smashing’ was an ill chosen word considering what happened that last time we went flying together. Those trees, I mean. And yet, regardless of your long stay in the hospital you really must admit old chum that I have always exhibited a masterful bit of flying. Why just getting us out of that terrible jam with the dead stick landing and the oncoming Lancaster, not to mention plowing through that stand of oaks at the end of the runway when we were together last. What’s that you said about blind bleedin’ luck?

Now that is total nonsense young man, luck had nothing whatever to do with our survival that time….’twas skill, pure and simple that pulled our tender breakfast meat out of the roaring conflagration. My pilot skill that is, and not to put too fine a point on it mate, mine alone. As you’ll certainly recall your contribution to our escape can be summed up in two words... curses and puke. I have never heard such language in my life old sod and there was a foot of greenish slime in the cockpit after we touched down.

‘Touched down’ was merely a figure of speech laddie so stop nit picking. I do indeed well remember that we actually bounced several times before finally coming to rest. Pity about those trees. I do like foliage but they got in the way you see. Oh well, you’ll soon learn that any landing, yes, even a one point landing, is a good landing if you can walk away from it. OK, OK, don’t shout I believe I do recall that you were taken away on a stretcher and therefore we cannot technically call that one a “good” landing from your limited perspective.

Of coarse since I was able to walk away, well limp really, perhaps we will call it half a good landing? Is that OK with you sport? I have a spotless record to protect you know. How’s that? Now really old chap I’ll have you know that by 'record' I was not referring to a vinyl disk with Benny Goodman music on it, no indeed, I was referring to my pristine flying record. I assure you that it is the envy of pilots the world over.

Now if you will be so good as to lay down those crutches and remove the bandage from over at least one bloodshot eye we’ll climb into the cockpit for today’s lesson...OK, now isn’t that better? Why are you praying? Great Caesar’s Ghost man, get a grip.

Today I’ll be demonstrating the finer points of strafing and bombing. I agree with you, this beat-up old Spitfire is not the best steed for this type of mission however as this patched up crap ahh... veteran fighter is the only plane they will allow me to... er, as this slightly worn fine, old aircraft is the only one available to us today we’ll have to make do with what we have.

Our guns are fully charged with .303 rounds and we will have a couple of small practice bombs hanging under our wings. Hard points? What is that? Well, all I know is the riggers were out to tea so I tied the damn things under the wings myself. Really? Of coarse there is no danger. I have the ends of the release strings tied to a peg in the cockpit. All I have to do to drop the bombs is to pull one of them like this... oops! That was a close call, wasn’t it? I almost pulled the bloody string. I say, where are you mate? Where the blazes did you go? Oh, there you are.

Really now, how can you learn anything if you’re hanging out of the cockpit like that? Climb right back in and I’ll start the engine. I’ll close the hood and we’ll continue our chat over the R/T. OK, we have our clearance for takeoff so I’ll open the throttle, drop the flaps and those scrambling chaps running as if their lives depend upon it have just removed the wheel chocks. Oooooch! I think we hit one of those blokes. Serves him right for having slow reflexes, what? This is why they aren't pilots.

Isn’t the Spitfire a marvelous craft? You cannot help the feeling of exhilaration as you give her a full head o’ steam and climb out. We’ll circle a few hundred feet over the field just to get our bearings and then make a beeline for the bombing range. Look down there where our shadow is crossing the field. Remove your hands from over your eyes. Do you see all those bright flashes and those chaps running about in formation flapping their arms? That must be some sort of inexpensive flight training exercise for the new Polish pilots? The RAF types with egg on their hats are always trying to save a pence or two you know.

You say they seem to be gesturing toward us? Whatever would they do that for? You think one of the bombs may have come loose and that they want us to fly away pronto. Not a chance mate. Nothing about that is coming in on the wireless. Besides just as we flew over the ops. building I pulled the cords to be absolutely sure both strings were snug and tied tight. Here Old Man if you don’t believe me, take hold of these cords and just pull one of them for yourself.

Good gracious look over at the ops. building, it seems to be on fire and there is a big bomb crater on the field. I’ve got it; there must be a sneak attack under way! Never fear laddie we’ll do our bit. I’ll climb into the sun and pounce on the bleedin’ bombers before they can get away. Eh? That is utterly absurd. You say we dropped those bombs? Well if that were so then these strings would be slack just like this…. Hmmmmm. UhOh. Looks like we better sneak into one of those clouds and pretend to be an enemy bomber. There are angry puffs of smoke all around us now. Do you think they recognized us? Yes, a Spitfire and its shadow crossing the field as the bombs went off is a bit conspicuous I admit that. Not to worry, I will assume full responsibility for all the flying. All that you have to do then is explain why you pulled those cords you’re now holding in your hands, isn't that right? There's a good chap.

Lesson over, and do stop all that sputtering and cursing, it is most distracting. Looks like we just lost a good bit of wing. Shrapnel? Probably from our own bombs you say? That was unkind. It was due to the blasted ack ack more likely. Now if the testy bastids would just stop firing at us so I can land.

Hey! Who slammed back the hood? You're getting trash and smoke in my eyes. Where the hell are you going? Get off the wing and back in here this instant! I wouldn't take the plunge Old Man. That thing on your back is not a parachute...it is my knapsack with our lunch in it.... LISTEN TO ME...READ MY LIPS...IT-IS-NOT-A-PARACHUTE!!!You can't hear me can you? I'd try sign language but now is definitely not the time to let go the yoke.

There he goes. I can see my thermos, two apples and several sandwiches... Deary me, that must be a nasty surprise....

Note: This story has been edited by the author and varies slightly from the original