W.E.B. Griffin - The Corps 03 - Counterattack

They even found his little joke with the crew chief, himself a technical sergeant, somehow comforting: "Well, let’s wind up the rubber bands and see if we can get this thing in the air."

Galloway climbed up the door ladder and walked through the fuselage to the cockpit. Then he turned and found Lieutenant Ward behind him. He pointed to the copilot’s seat.

"Why don’t you crawl in there, Lieutenant?" he suggested.

But it was an order, and both lieutenants knew it. Sergeant Galloway was now functioning as pilot-in-command.

Lieutenant Schneider stood between the seats and watched critically as Galloway went through the checklist and fired up the engines. He could find nothing to fault, even when he was summarily ordered to the cabin: "You can go strap yourself in now, Lieutenant."

That was simply following established safety regulations, Schneider told himself, actually a little chagrined that he had to be told by a sergeant to do something he knew he should do, and hadn’t done.

Galloway then took the R4D off, got in the pattern, and shot four touch-and-go landings. All of them, Schneider was forced to admit, were as smooth as glass. Then he shot another five. The first of these was pretty rough and sloppy, Schneider was pleased to judge-until it occurred to him that Ward, not Sergeant Galloway, was now at the controls.

And then Ward came into the cabin, sat down beside Schneider, and said, "Your turn."

When Schneider went to the cockpit, Galloway was in the copilot’s seat and obviously functioning as an IP. Schneider made five touch-and-goes, more than a little annoyed that not only was his performance being judged by this damned sergeant, but that he had found it wanting.

"Go around again," Galloway ordered, shoving the throttles forward. "Try to set up your approach so that you touch down closer to the threshold."

Dave Schneider’s next landing was better, but still apparently not up to Sergeant Galloway’s standard. He told him to go around again.

They refueled then, rechecked the weather, and got back into the R4D. This time Galloway told Dave Schneider to get into the copilot’s seat. Schneider, chagrined, correctly interpreted this to mean that Galloway thought he required more of his instructional attention than Ward did.

While they were climbing to their ten-thousand-foot cruising altitude, Galloway summoned Ward from the cabin and installed him on the jump seat in the cockpit. When Ward had his headset on, Galloway explained that they were going to fly the airways, first to the east of Washington, about twenty-five miles from Quantico, and then over Baltimore, and then Wilmington, Delaware, 120 miles and forty-five minutes from their departure point.

Galloway didn’t touch the controls, letting Schneider fly and make the en route radio calls. When nothing was happening, he delivered, conversationally, what Lieutenant Ward genuinely believed was a truly learned discourse on the peculiarities of R4D aircraft and instrument flight techniques generally.

The sun had come out, and the day was clear, and the flight very pleasant.

And then Sergeant Galloway’s voice came over the earphones.

"There’s a little roughness in the port engine," he announced.

Neither Ward nor Schneider had detected any roughness in the port engine. Both quickly scanned the instrument panel for any signs of mechanical irregularity, but found none. Lieutenant Ward was perfectly willing to defer to Sergeant Galloway’s expert judgment, but Lieutenant Schneider was not.

"Sergeant," Lieutenant Schneider said, "I don’t hear anything in either of the engines."

"You really don’t have all that much time in one of these things, do you, Lieutenant?" Galloway asked tolerantly.

Schneider’s face flushed.

"I think we better sit down and have a look at it," Galloway went on. He picked up the microphone: "Philadelphia, this is Marine Two-Six-Two. I am diverting to Willow Grove at this time. Estimate Willow Grove in five minutes. Please close me out to Willow Grove."

The Willow Grove Naval Air Station, just north of Philadelphia, was not far from Lieutenant Ward’s home in Jenkintown, Pennsylvania, an affluent Philadelphia suburb. He looked out the cockpit window and saw that they were approaching South Philadelphia. He could see the Navy Yard.

"Marine Two-Six-Two, Philadelphia," the Philadelphia controller replied, "understand diverting to Willow Grove at this time, ETA five minutes."

"Roger, Philadelphia, thank you," Galloway said, and then switched to the Willow Grove tower’s radio frequency: "Willow Grove, Marine Two-Six-Two, an R4D aircraft, fifteen miles south of your station. Approach and landing, please."

Curiosity overwhelmed Lieutenant Dave Schneider.

"What’s going on?"

"I told you. The port engine sounds a little rough. I’m going to sit down and have a look at it."

"I don’t hear anything wrong with the engine," Schneider said.

"I could be wrong, of course," Sergeant Galloway said. "But you can never be too careful, can you?"

"Willow Grove clears Marine Two-Six-Two as number one to land on Runway One-Niner. The winds are from the north at five miles. Visibility and ceiling unlimited. The time is ten past the hour."

"Roger, Willow Grove, we have the field in sight," Galloway said, and then added, to Schneider, "I’ve got it, Lieutenant."

Schneider took his hands and feet off the controls, turning control over to Galloway, who began to make the descent.

"We probably could have made it into Lakehurst," Schneider said. "It’s only forty miles, maybe not that far."

"That’s very good, Lieutenant," Galloway said dryly. "A copilot should always be prepared to give the pilot their location, and the location of an alternative airfield."

Schneider had the feeling Galloway was making a fool of him, but he couldn’t figure out exactly how.

"I really would like to know why are we landing here," Lieutenant Schneider said.

"Lieutenant, do you know what they have at Lakehurst in February?" Galloway asked. "One of the world’s biggest buildings, maybe a dozen blimps, and a lot of snow. Period." Then he picked up the microphone and said, "Willow Grove, Marine Two-Six-Two turning on final," and began to line the airplane up with the runway.

Lieutenant Schneider was now sure what Sergeant Galloway was up to. It fit in with everything he had heard. There was nothing wrong with the engine. Galloway did not want to go to Lakehurst because there was nothing, in his own words, at Lakehurst in February but one of the world’s largest buildings, a dozen blimps, and a lot of snow. Period.

What was outside of Willow Grove Naval Air Station was the city of Philadelphia. And in Philadelphia there were a lot of bars where Galloway could get drunk and punch out a shore patrolman, for which, Colonel Hershberger had made it absolutely clear, they would be held responsible.

Schneider motioned to Ward to come close, covered his mouth with his hand, and said, "We have to talk."

Galloway greased the R4D onto the runway, then reached for the microphone again.

"Willow Grove, Two-Six-Two. We’ll need some gas, and I’d like a mechanic to check out one of my engines, please."

"Two-Six-Two, take taxiway C, and taxi to the transient area by the tower. A fuel truck and a maintenance crew will meet you there."

"Thank you very much, Willow Grove."

"We flew right over my house," Lieutenant Ward said.

"We did?" Galloway said.

"I live in Jenkintown," Lieutenant Ward said.

"Well, I guess that means you can go home for supper, huh?" Galloway said.

"Sergeant Galloway," Lieutenant Schneider said, with what he hoped was the appropriate combination of courtesy and firmness, "if the engine checks out all right, I think we should go on to Lakehurst."