thedrifter
05-19-07, 07:45 AM
May 19, 2007 - 12:00AM
No bailing out of this assignment
CHRISSY VICK
DAILY NEWS STAFF
Well, I almost threw up.
That's how I'll begin each conversation about my flying experience Friday. It was the first time I'd been in the air with the Marine Corps or the Air Force - or inside a C-17 Globemaster.
The media was invited to join 2nd Air Delivery Platoon in a Marine and equipment drop over Camp Lejeune. Reporters and photographers came from eastern North Carolina and South Carolina near Charleston Air Force Base to take the ride.
I thought initially the toughest part of the day would be rolling out of bed at 6 a.m.
I was seriously mistaken.
As we pulled into Marine Corps Auxiliary Landing Field Bogue and began our interviews with parachute riggers and Marine air delivery specialists, I realized I was missing something important - a CF card for the digital camera.
That is a slightly important component of bringing back photos for a story.
So, the hunt began as I asked every Marine and reporter if they had a spare camera or card. I was often met with a laugh and the question, "Aren't you the reporter?"
Yes, I am, but apparently one who is completely unprepared for a day of flying. That goes to include forgetting to bring what everyone labeled a "barf bag."
Thankfully, others were more prepared than I was (my Girl Scout troop leaders would be so ashamed) and Mic Smith of the Post and Courier in Charleston came to my rescue with a CF card.
Later, a Marine came to the rescue with the barf bag.
As we loaded the C-17 at Bogue, I was feeling excited about my adventure - and grateful they didn't ask us to strap on parachutes. At one point, I thought I would have said yes, but that was well before I saw the Marines jump.
We got into the air so quickly I hardly had time to tighten my seatbelt. (My head at this moment is still spinning from the experience.) The media sat directly across from the Marines, lined up along the length of the large plane, armed with cameras and notepads. It was like a face-off in preparation for a battle of willpower.
There was no contest - I was turning green about 10 minutes into the flight.
We all filmed, photographed and took notes as the Marines lined up and attached themselves to a static line. One by one, they fell out of the door and were swept away by gusts of wind that challenged even the dreaded "H" storm of which coastal North Carolinians dare not speak.
Their faces were still and calm, but the Marines said later they were nervous with anticipation. I was in awe of their courage.
A select few had made more than 100 jumps, while one Coast Guard member was there "just for fun."
After the jump, the pilots decided to have a little bit of fun themselves.
Before I knew it - let me mention there are no windows on this plane - I could feel my stomach dropping as we swerved up and down, side to side and in what felt like in a complete circle.
Within a few moments, I was emptying my lunch bag and holding it to my face. Eugene, a videographer for Channel 12, was telling me to find "my happy place," which was code for "Please don't puke on my shoes."
I didn't, but only barely.
We spent two hours at Cherry Point Air Station while the Marines loaded their heavy equipment onto the plane. It took me that long to regain the feeling in my legs.
Just when I had, we were back on the plane surrounded by crates, boxes and even a truck. This time, the entire back of the plane opened in midflight and we dropped more than 11,000 pounds of goods onto Camp Lejeune.
All I could see from my seat was sky, water, land, water, sky. At this point, other reporters began to hold their heads in their hands and break out in a cold sweat.
In the end, the reporters held firm. We would never be able to out-stomach the Marines - they were walking around the plane with beef jerky and sodas like it was a leisurely day at Onslow Beach - but I'd say we still triumphed.
I have now confirmed that I can entrust my life to our nation's armed services. But from now on, I'll stick to reporting about their courage and commitment from the ground.
Ellie
No bailing out of this assignment
CHRISSY VICK
DAILY NEWS STAFF
Well, I almost threw up.
That's how I'll begin each conversation about my flying experience Friday. It was the first time I'd been in the air with the Marine Corps or the Air Force - or inside a C-17 Globemaster.
The media was invited to join 2nd Air Delivery Platoon in a Marine and equipment drop over Camp Lejeune. Reporters and photographers came from eastern North Carolina and South Carolina near Charleston Air Force Base to take the ride.
I thought initially the toughest part of the day would be rolling out of bed at 6 a.m.
I was seriously mistaken.
As we pulled into Marine Corps Auxiliary Landing Field Bogue and began our interviews with parachute riggers and Marine air delivery specialists, I realized I was missing something important - a CF card for the digital camera.
That is a slightly important component of bringing back photos for a story.
So, the hunt began as I asked every Marine and reporter if they had a spare camera or card. I was often met with a laugh and the question, "Aren't you the reporter?"
Yes, I am, but apparently one who is completely unprepared for a day of flying. That goes to include forgetting to bring what everyone labeled a "barf bag."
Thankfully, others were more prepared than I was (my Girl Scout troop leaders would be so ashamed) and Mic Smith of the Post and Courier in Charleston came to my rescue with a CF card.
Later, a Marine came to the rescue with the barf bag.
As we loaded the C-17 at Bogue, I was feeling excited about my adventure - and grateful they didn't ask us to strap on parachutes. At one point, I thought I would have said yes, but that was well before I saw the Marines jump.
We got into the air so quickly I hardly had time to tighten my seatbelt. (My head at this moment is still spinning from the experience.) The media sat directly across from the Marines, lined up along the length of the large plane, armed with cameras and notepads. It was like a face-off in preparation for a battle of willpower.
There was no contest - I was turning green about 10 minutes into the flight.
We all filmed, photographed and took notes as the Marines lined up and attached themselves to a static line. One by one, they fell out of the door and were swept away by gusts of wind that challenged even the dreaded "H" storm of which coastal North Carolinians dare not speak.
Their faces were still and calm, but the Marines said later they were nervous with anticipation. I was in awe of their courage.
A select few had made more than 100 jumps, while one Coast Guard member was there "just for fun."
After the jump, the pilots decided to have a little bit of fun themselves.
Before I knew it - let me mention there are no windows on this plane - I could feel my stomach dropping as we swerved up and down, side to side and in what felt like in a complete circle.
Within a few moments, I was emptying my lunch bag and holding it to my face. Eugene, a videographer for Channel 12, was telling me to find "my happy place," which was code for "Please don't puke on my shoes."
I didn't, but only barely.
We spent two hours at Cherry Point Air Station while the Marines loaded their heavy equipment onto the plane. It took me that long to regain the feeling in my legs.
Just when I had, we were back on the plane surrounded by crates, boxes and even a truck. This time, the entire back of the plane opened in midflight and we dropped more than 11,000 pounds of goods onto Camp Lejeune.
All I could see from my seat was sky, water, land, water, sky. At this point, other reporters began to hold their heads in their hands and break out in a cold sweat.
In the end, the reporters held firm. We would never be able to out-stomach the Marines - they were walking around the plane with beef jerky and sodas like it was a leisurely day at Onslow Beach - but I'd say we still triumphed.
I have now confirmed that I can entrust my life to our nation's armed services. But from now on, I'll stick to reporting about their courage and commitment from the ground.
Ellie