CHAPTER FIVE - PRIME TIME

We got off of a midnight shift on a Saturday morning and boarded one of our C-130's bound for Upper Heyford Royal Air Force Base in Oxfordshire England. After landing we changed out of our uniforms and hailed some taxis that took us on a scary ride down winding back country roads. Doing this on the left side of the road instead of the right as Americans are used to was very frightening. Our destination was a railroad station where we boarded a train that took us through the beautiful English countryside. After arriving in London we walked all over trying to find the tourist sites such as Buckingham Palace, the Tower of London, Tower Bridge, and Big Ben. We rode on the tube, or underground which is the London subway. Much of the subway was the same subway used as bomb shelters during the London Blitz. After a steep climb we ended up at Picadilly Circus. This was a whirlwind trip in which we were trying to pack a lot into a couple of days. We wasted a lot of time looking for these places which taught me a valuable lesson. It is better to hire a tour guide in a big city that you are unfamiliar with rather than trying to find these places on your own. Of course it is probably easier now in the age of GPS.

 Late that afternoon we started looking for a bed and breakfast. We were worn out and had been up many hours. There were about eight of us in our group as we walked through a London neighborhood looking for somewhere to stay. Curiously I noticed the names and phone numbers of women written on every utility pole we passed. I wasn't sure what this meant but I had a good idea. There were rows of tenements and some sections were very nice right alongside tenements that were dingy and rundown. At one of these rundown tenements I noticed a very heavyset Black man sitting in a windowsill with a haggard looking white woman sitting between his legs. It was obvious that this man was pimping this woman. Just then a man ran out of the building who reminded me of Muammar Gaddafi. He was trying to talk us into renting rooms from him. I was hanging out with a good friend named Jerry Honeycut and he said what I was already thinking. "Come on, I'm not staying here." The others were walking in with the man as we turned to walk off.

 Just around the corner we found a very nice bed and breakfast. We were just getting settled into our room when we heard a knock on our door. It was some of the other guys who had walked in with the sketchy character earlier. They told us that they paid the man for rooms but they were shocked at what they saw. Feces was smeared on the walls and the beds were absolutely filthy. They said that they were going to stay at our bed and breakfast but they had lost their money at the other place because  he refused to give their money back. After a very restful sleep and a great breakfast the next morning we set out for Victoria station. While walking down the street we met two London Bobby's. Although these London cops were not carrying guns they were huge and looked like they could easily handle themselves in a fight. They asked us why we were staying in the red light district. That explained why the names and phone numbers of so many women were written on the utility poles. Cheap advertising I guess. After boarding the train we headed toward historic Dover England and the White Cliffs of Dover.

 There, we boarded a jet foil and I got some great pictures of the cliffs as we headed across the English channel to Ostend Belgium. The channel was choppy and before boarding I was beginning to regret not buying Dramamine for the boat trip. I just knew I would throw my guts up but to my surprise the jet foil was a very smooth ride even though the water was very choppy. On the way across the channel I met a veteran of WW2 who was returning to Belgium for the fortieth anniversary of VE Day. This was his first trip to Europe since the war. Soon, our trip to Belgium was over and we headed home. We boarded the same aircraft that we flew over on and we had the same aircrew 

 So far the whole trip had been uneventful and my fear of something happening had subsided quite a bit. The flight from Belgium to the Azores was about six hours. We were about an hour and twenty-five minutes out of the Azores when I felt a slight shudder in the plane. When I am flying I try not to worry until I see the crew become worried. Suddenly the load master ran over to look out the window at one of the engines. We had lost an engine but the plane did not seem to be affected that much. I knew that C-130's routinely flew on just three engines and could even fly on two. In 1986, while on jury duty, I met a C-130 pilot that was the only person to successfully fly a C-130 on one engine and land safely. This has never been done before or since. The only thing that worried me was that we were carrying such a heavy load. Our pilot was the best and we made a very gradual descent, making the smoothest landing in the Azores that I ever recall.

 After another seven hour flight we landed at Sheerwater for refueling. We had a short layover there then we were on our way back to Nashville. As always I was glad to see my family and be back home. I had all but forgotten about my premonition of doom until I went back to work. When I walked into our rework area one of the women there was looking at me like she had seen a ghost. She said "Greg, I can't explain it, but I had the feeling that I was never going to see you again."