‘I hope to hell you’re a minority. Don’t want others out there like you.’ He flicked an ash as we heard a plane far off.
‘Janet’s staying here,’ Lucy said to him. ‘Meaning, the two of you will be working this together. No smoking in the car, and you hit on her, your life is over.’
‘Shhhh,’ I said to both of them.
The jet’s return was loud from the north, and we stood silently, staring up at the sky as lights suddenly blazed on. They formed a fiery dotted line, marking green for approach, white for the safe zone, and finally warning red at the end of the landing strip. I thought how weird it would seem for anyone who had the misfortune of driving by as this plane was coming in. I could see its dark shadow and winking lights on wings as it dropped lower and its noise became awesome. The landing gear unfolded and emerald green light spilled out from the wheel well as the C-17 headed straight for us.
I had the paralyzing sensation that I was witnessing a crash, that this monstrous flat-gray machine with vertical wing tips and stubby shape was going to plow into the earth. It sounded like a hurricane as it roared right over our heads, and we put our fingers in our ears as its huge wheels touched down, grass and dirt flying, great chunks chewed out of ruts made by big wheels and 130 tons of aluminum and steel. Wing flaps were up, engines in thrust reverse as the jet screamed to a stop at the end of a field not big enough for football.
Then pilots threw it in reverse and began loudly backing it up along the grass, in our direction, so there would be enough of a landing strip for it to take off again. When its tail reached the edge of the dirt road, the C-17 stopped, jet exhaust directed up away from us. The back opened like the mouth of a shark as a metal ramp went down, the cargo bay completely open and lighted and gleaming of polished metal.
For a while we watched as the loadmaster and crew worked. They had put on chemical warfare gear, dark hoods and goggles and black gloves that looked rather scary, especially at night. They quickly backed the pickup and camper off the flatbed truck, unhooked them, and the HMMWV towed the camper inside the C-17.
‘Come on,’ Lucy said, tugging my arm. ‘We don’t want to miss our ride.’
We walked out onto the field, and I could not believe the power surging and the noise as we followed the automated ramp, picking our way around rollers and rings built into the flat, metal floor, miles of wires and insulation exposed overhead. The plane looked big enough to carry several helicopters, Red Cross buses, tanks, and there were at least fifty jump seats. But the crew was small tonight, only the loadmaster and paratroopers, and a first lieutenant named Laurel, who I assumed had been assigned to us.
She was an attractive young woman with short dark hair, and she shook each of our hands and smiled like a gracious hostess.
‘Good news is you’re not sitting down here,’ she said. ‘We’ll be up with the pilots. More good news, I’ve got coffee.’
‘That would be heaven,’ I said, metal clanking as the crew secured the camper and HMMWV to the floor with chains and netting.
The steps leading up from the cargo bay were painted with the name of the plane, which in this case, appropriately, was Heavy Metal. The cockpit was huge, with an electronic flight control system, and head-up displays like fighter pilots used. Steering was done with sticks instead of yokes, and the instrumentation was completely intimidating.
I climbed up on a swivel seat, behind two pilots in green jumpsuits, who were too busy to pay us any mind.
‘You got headsets so you can talk, but please don’t when the pilots are,’ Laurel told us. ‘You don’t have to wear them, but it’s pretty loud in here.’
I was clamping on my five-point harness and noting the oxygen mask hanging by each chair.