thedrifter
04-17-07, 06:26 AM
AP
Riding the Osprey on Friday the 13th
Monday April 16, 7:15 pm ET
By Donna Borak, AP Business Writer
I Survived a Maiden Flight in the Osprey on Friday the 13th
MARINE CORPS BASE QUANTICO, Va. (AP) -- Taking a maiden flight on Friday the 13th with some 20 journalists on the Marines Corps' V-22 Osprey, a military plane that can take off and land like a helicopter, didn't faze me.
I wasn't rattled by the Osprey's record of mechanical failures during production that resulted in the deaths of 23 soldiers in two test crashes. I wasn't worried that the Marines wanted to know my blood type before I could get security clearance to go along.
As we bumped and jostled from a launch pad at the Pentagon to the staging area at Quantico in a 39-year-old CH-46 Sea Knight helicopter, adorned with a pair of tattered, sooty dice, I reminisced about "Top Gun," the testosterone-driven blockbuster about fighter pilot training.
Within 10 minutes of our arrival, we heard the low rumbling as two Ospreys, light gray with spiraling propellers on top, flew by at top speed.
Crew commanders, sporting military combat fatigues and black-visored helmets gave us the safety drill, reminding us the ride would be far more intense than any roller coaster we'd even encountered.
Equipped with cranial helmets to protect our brains and barf bags to protect our dignity, we all looked at each other, trying to gauge the level of apprehension.
The commanders insisted they had gotten sick the first few times out.
I wondered.
As we scuttled across the field and ducked our heads to block the sand and dirt whipping into our eyes, the whirling rotors thundered overhead.
In single file, we walked up a ramp into a roughly 25-foot deep Osprey. The sound of the turbine engines was deafening, even with noise-reducing helmets on. We sat along the sides of the plane, facing each other.
The only visibility we had during flight was two small windows outside the cockpit and the open rear entrance. The cockpit seats three pilots, and we had limited sight of the control panel before takeoff, when the cockpit door was closed.
Ten Osprey will be deployed to Iraq by September, the Marines said. The plane, built by Boeing Co. and a unit of Textron Inc., can travel twice as fast and three times farther than the Sea Knight, a helicopter used in the Vietnam War.
Each $70 million Osprey is equipped with radars, lasers and a missile defense system. The Osprey, which can carry 24 combat-ready Marines, will accompany attack helicopters in Iraq that have come under gunfire and mortar attacks.
The Marines were set on demonstrating the aircraft's flexibility -- even if they refrained from not flipping us upside down.
On our third takeoff, we neared what seemed like a tight 60-degree angle, I clutched the safety strap across my right shoulder, feeling as though I would slide out the rear opening.
Two reporters at the tail end couldn't take it. They had to use the barf bags. Others closed their eyes, trying to escape the ups and downs and wild turns.
When it was finally over, I staggered off the plane. I jokingly Maj. Allen Grinalds, a crew leader: "So you guys really didn't take it easy on us, huh?"
He just smiled and patted me on the back. Maybe he couldn't hear me over the roar of the engines.
Hours after landing, my stomach was still doing flips. But I had made it safely back to ground and not thrown up. I was ecstatic.
Ellie
Riding the Osprey on Friday the 13th
Monday April 16, 7:15 pm ET
By Donna Borak, AP Business Writer
I Survived a Maiden Flight in the Osprey on Friday the 13th
MARINE CORPS BASE QUANTICO, Va. (AP) -- Taking a maiden flight on Friday the 13th with some 20 journalists on the Marines Corps' V-22 Osprey, a military plane that can take off and land like a helicopter, didn't faze me.
I wasn't rattled by the Osprey's record of mechanical failures during production that resulted in the deaths of 23 soldiers in two test crashes. I wasn't worried that the Marines wanted to know my blood type before I could get security clearance to go along.
As we bumped and jostled from a launch pad at the Pentagon to the staging area at Quantico in a 39-year-old CH-46 Sea Knight helicopter, adorned with a pair of tattered, sooty dice, I reminisced about "Top Gun," the testosterone-driven blockbuster about fighter pilot training.
Within 10 minutes of our arrival, we heard the low rumbling as two Ospreys, light gray with spiraling propellers on top, flew by at top speed.
Crew commanders, sporting military combat fatigues and black-visored helmets gave us the safety drill, reminding us the ride would be far more intense than any roller coaster we'd even encountered.
Equipped with cranial helmets to protect our brains and barf bags to protect our dignity, we all looked at each other, trying to gauge the level of apprehension.
The commanders insisted they had gotten sick the first few times out.
I wondered.
As we scuttled across the field and ducked our heads to block the sand and dirt whipping into our eyes, the whirling rotors thundered overhead.
In single file, we walked up a ramp into a roughly 25-foot deep Osprey. The sound of the turbine engines was deafening, even with noise-reducing helmets on. We sat along the sides of the plane, facing each other.
The only visibility we had during flight was two small windows outside the cockpit and the open rear entrance. The cockpit seats three pilots, and we had limited sight of the control panel before takeoff, when the cockpit door was closed.
Ten Osprey will be deployed to Iraq by September, the Marines said. The plane, built by Boeing Co. and a unit of Textron Inc., can travel twice as fast and three times farther than the Sea Knight, a helicopter used in the Vietnam War.
Each $70 million Osprey is equipped with radars, lasers and a missile defense system. The Osprey, which can carry 24 combat-ready Marines, will accompany attack helicopters in Iraq that have come under gunfire and mortar attacks.
The Marines were set on demonstrating the aircraft's flexibility -- even if they refrained from not flipping us upside down.
On our third takeoff, we neared what seemed like a tight 60-degree angle, I clutched the safety strap across my right shoulder, feeling as though I would slide out the rear opening.
Two reporters at the tail end couldn't take it. They had to use the barf bags. Others closed their eyes, trying to escape the ups and downs and wild turns.
When it was finally over, I staggered off the plane. I jokingly Maj. Allen Grinalds, a crew leader: "So you guys really didn't take it easy on us, huh?"
He just smiled and patted me on the back. Maybe he couldn't hear me over the roar of the engines.
Hours after landing, my stomach was still doing flips. But I had made it safely back to ground and not thrown up. I was ecstatic.
Ellie