Article inspired by Arrowhead Trip to Joint Base Lewis--McChord
By Joan Gilbert
By Joan Gilbert
Trip date: 3-30-2016
Received date: 8-22-2016
Post date: 9-5-2016
Images added; 9-7-2016
Received date: 8-22-2016
Post date: 9-5-2016
Images added; 9-7-2016
| Joan Gilbert stands beside a C-17 at Joint Base Lewis McChord, that reminds her of a trip she took at age 13. |  |
On March 30th of this year some fortunate Arrowhead residents were able to visit Joint Base Lewis McChord. We were privileged to be allowed to go on a cargo plane, a C-17, even sitting in the seats of the pilot and co-pilot. As I sat in the holding area and looked out the rear cargo door a vision from my youth materialized.
I was thirteen-years-old and wearing the uniform of a WAF (Women’s Air Force) when we took off from Selfridge Field north of Detroit, Michigan. No parental supervision. Just a dozen or so young ladies off on an adventure.
And what an adventure it was! The cargo plane we rode in was a smaller plane than the C-17 plane we lucky Arrowhead residents got to tour. Of course there were no comfortable seats in the plane in the early sixties; instead, we used folded-up parachutes as pillows on the hard floor. Creative, we used lipstick to make suspicious dots on those of the group who fell asleep first.
Just as the plane was landing in St Louis for the lunch stop, a WAF appeared from the cockpit, the rear cargo door lowered. The WAF, in dress blues, walked to the end of the ramp and jumped out. We looked at each other in amazement, amazed because the plane hadn’t come to a complete stop.
After that, not one young lady misbehaved.
We flew on to Amarillo, Texas. It was summer. It was hot. And we marched on the tarmac. Your left…your right… Even having taken the salt tablets some of us ended up in Sick Bay.
But we didn’t care! We lived in a barracks and learned how to make military corners on a bed. We scrubbed bathroom floors with a tooth brush. We stood at attention for inspection and didn’t crack a smile no matter how cute the drill sergeant was.
At the end of the week we went to a military ball with male cadets from Texas CAP squadrons who had been billeted elsewhere on the base.
We came home with marching songs in our heads, sunburns, and the assurance we were tough enough for the Air Force.
Copyright 2016 Joan Gilbert All Rights Reserved
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