How do elephants dance in the sky?
By Army Lt. Col. David Womack
| Pentagon Joint Staff country desk officer | March 26, 2010
WASHINGTON --
If you want to know how, just ask the United States Air Force. They actually wrote the book on it, and I got to see it in action ...
The Sky
Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Adm. Mike Mullen recently completed a trip to the Middle East, and I was able to ride back home on his aircraft, saving the taxpayer dollars and me the pain of an international economy seat on some airline.
The demands of the job require Admiral Mullen to return home as quickly as possible. To make that possible, the Air Force ordered up an "aerial refueling" for our aircraft. Five hours into the flight, "Reach 289" needed a pit stop. Despite the fact it was all happening at the same speed stock cars run in their races, it was quite different than NASCAR. This pit stop was a game of inches and minutes, not rough moves in seconds.
I knew this refueling was going to happen not once, but twice. So as the resident Army guy, I asked Lt. Col. Johnny Johnson, a pilot with the 15th Airlift Squadron and the mission commander, upon boarding if I could watch the refueling when the time came. He cleared it with the crew and said he would get me when it was time. A few minutes later, our plane was lumbering down the runway clawing into the sky.
The Elephants
Just like any tango, it takes two. Our "elephant" was a C-17 Globemaster III - because a C-17 is not a regular size aircraft.
It's huge. It is able to carry a 65-ton M1A1 battle tank. I know trucks that can't do that on a superhighway. It's a little roomy to say the least. I think you could put an IMAX large-theater screen on one wall. But it is also a bit loud, like running a vacuum cleaner in your laundry room with the door closed ... for 17 hours.
The plane was well-equipped in its own special way. The crew knew the chairman was on board, so he had his own "silver bullet." Well, let's be clear. It's an "Airstream" trailer - without the wheels and chained to the floor of the aircraft. I kid you not. It is silver with rounded edges and has "Airstream" stenciled on the side. Inside, the chairman has a small bed, a desk, communication gear and all that is needed for him to do his work.
At the time, his most important piece of work gear was the small bed to catch up on sleep. In front of the "silver bullet" trailer were about 20 economy airline seats. There were about four folks sitting in them. The rest were along the wall on canvas seats which are standard on the plane. At the head of the plane was the "comfort pallet" or lavatory. It's a box with two airline bathrooms - call lights and all.
Strapped to the wall on the side of the plane were empty bunk beds - nine of them. Staff officers and security personnel opened up sleeping bags and grabbed some well-deserved sleep. Throughout the aircraft were coolers filled with water, sodas, coffee thermoses and snacks. In the well-lit spaces, people read, watched movies, slept, listened to music, secured gear or drafted e-mails for family and friends about life when traveling with the chairman. That was our elephant.
The Maine Air National Guard, also known as the "MAINEiacs," provided the other "elephant." It was a KC-135 Stratotanker. Take a 707 Jumbo Jet and turn it into a flying fuel truck with a "hose with wings" sticking out the back. This thing is also a large piece of machinery. Along the bottom of the aircraft was a yellow line painted down the center. On either side of the yellow line were two series of lights parallel to the yellow center line. In essence, it looked like a state highway, with a yellow line down the middle and white lines to guide the C-17 pilot.
Out the back of the KC-135, a metal pipe sticks out at a 45-degree down angle from the aircraft. On the pipe is a stabilizing wing. On one side of the boom wing on the "other elephant" was the acronym, ME ANG, which stood for "Maine Air National Guard." On the other side was the word "MAINEiacs" - proud folks from Bangor, Maine. At the base of the boom pipe, where the boom jutted out of the airplane, an unseen Airman - the boom operator - flew the boom. He was as key to this operation as any of the pilots.
As these two "elephants" inched toward one another, I watched as their mid-air dance commenced ...
(This commentary is the first in a two-part series.)