My late father in law was an Air Force flight mechanic before he eventually became a professor at Auburn University. Even when he was a respected professor and decades downrange of his time in the service, in many ways, his Air Force days informed much of his outlook. It was even a deciding factor in why he chose a Mac over a PC.
"It's the mouse."
I was utterly confused. "The mouse?"
"Yeah. On a PC, you have to double click everything."
"OK." I still had no idea where he was going with this.
"Macs only take a single click."
I started to argue a case for increased functionality and contextual menus, but he held up his hand. "It's too much noise."
"Wait. What?! What do you mean it's too much noise?"
"You'll agree that clicking a mouse produces an audible noise?"
"Of course."
"Well. Noise means there's friction somewhere. Friction means wear and tear. Wear and tear inevitably leads to a breakdown. And breakdowns are trouble for Air Force mechanics. PC mice make too much noise."
I had no response. As unfounded and unlikely as his concerns might have been, I couldn't refute his iron-clad logical progression.
Normally he didn't talk about his time in the service. However, sometimes, something on the news would trigger him. If I happened to be there, the stories would come pouring out, since, unlike his family, I was a fresh set of ears.
During the long nuclear detente with Russia, the United States relied on a triune defense strategy comprised of a fleet of ballistic missile submarines, hardened missile silos, and airborne strategic bombers. Being an Air Force flight mechanic at the height of the Cold War, my father in law found himself around the bombers on a regular basis.
The operational protocol dictated bombers had to be in the air at all times. That's 24x7x365. Eventually, these bomber squadrons had to land for maintenance. Ground control coordinated a handoff to another flight and the active squadron would come in for a landing.
One of these birds wound up at the nondescript midwestern airbase where my father in law was posted. During the maintenance cycle, he was assisting a grizzled Senior Master Chief when a restraint securing the "payload" failed. A nuclear warhead was now in danger of clattering to the ground. The maintenance crew leaped as a unit, trying to regain control of the wayward device.
Two aircrew members standing a hundred feet away saw what just happened and sprinted for the hangar door. Spotted by the Master Chief, he yelled after them, "Hey! If this goes, you won't be able to run far enough or fast enough! Get over here and lend a hand!" Properly reprimanded, they sheepishly double-timed it to the scene.
My father in law and his crewmates obviously contained the situation because he and I were having a conversation. It's still pretty sobering to think of all the close calls we've had. My concern is that the powers that be have become too dogmatic to enact any real change to the geopolitical landscape that requires nation-states to take these risks. You Millenials and Gen-Zers want an actual legit challenge? Here's one: Do better than us.
No comments:
Post a Comment