With my fighter flying days behind me, I am not only able to look at this profession more objectively, but also talk about it with more candour. I would have said 'write dispassionately', but one just cant be dispassionate about any kind of flying, least of all fighter flying.
Fighter pilots have been called modern day gladiators, the last of the lone warriors. But the truth is a fighter pilot is anything but a warrior. He is just someone who gave into his inner child. He does what he does not to satiate a desire to vanquish, but to soar above such petty desires. The ferocity he brings to his job is not the cold fury of a warrior but his desire to excel. As he manoeuvres to get on his adversary's tail, he is only competing with himself.
Given a chance, a fighter pilot would spend an evening drinking with the guy he shot out of the skies in the morning. He would compliment the adversary on a flight well flown, quiz him on his aircraft and manouvres, and revel in his compliments. The aircraft swooping and gliding in a dogfight may seem like engaged in a duel, but are actually enacting a ballet. A ballet choreographed by years of training and executed by instinct.
Most fighter pilots are not bothered about a professional attitude towards flying, because they don't know of any other attitude. While the land (and sea) lubbers only see the glamour, aggression and danger in this line of work, the fighter pilot sees none of this. He does not even see a line of work. For the biggest punishment you can give a fighter pilot is to stop him from flying.
No reprimands, no pay cuts or loss of seniority. Just take away one flight from him. As you see him gazing longingly at the departing aircraft, you know there is no remorse greater than that of a grounded pilot. That is not the love of a workman for his trade, but that of a child for playtime. For every minute spent between raising and lowering the landing gear is worth a lifetime spent watching his peers soar away.
What you see as a violent, aggressive profession is actually filled with so much nobility that leaves but little space for petty feuds. Every flight lends itself to a cleansing of the soul and all grudges are washed away with the sweat stained coveralls.
Maybe I am being a tad melodramatic, but nostalgia does wear rose tinted glasses.
Fighter pilots have been called modern day gladiators, the last of the lone warriors. But the truth is a fighter pilot is anything but a warrior. He is just someone who gave into his inner child. He does what he does not to satiate a desire to vanquish, but to soar above such petty desires. The ferocity he brings to his job is not the cold fury of a warrior but his desire to excel. As he manoeuvres to get on his adversary's tail, he is only competing with himself.
Given a chance, a fighter pilot would spend an evening drinking with the guy he shot out of the skies in the morning. He would compliment the adversary on a flight well flown, quiz him on his aircraft and manouvres, and revel in his compliments. The aircraft swooping and gliding in a dogfight may seem like engaged in a duel, but are actually enacting a ballet. A ballet choreographed by years of training and executed by instinct.
Most fighter pilots are not bothered about a professional attitude towards flying, because they don't know of any other attitude. While the land (and sea) lubbers only see the glamour, aggression and danger in this line of work, the fighter pilot sees none of this. He does not even see a line of work. For the biggest punishment you can give a fighter pilot is to stop him from flying.
No reprimands, no pay cuts or loss of seniority. Just take away one flight from him. As you see him gazing longingly at the departing aircraft, you know there is no remorse greater than that of a grounded pilot. That is not the love of a workman for his trade, but that of a child for playtime. For every minute spent between raising and lowering the landing gear is worth a lifetime spent watching his peers soar away.
What you see as a violent, aggressive profession is actually filled with so much nobility that leaves but little space for petty feuds. Every flight lends itself to a cleansing of the soul and all grudges are washed away with the sweat stained coveralls.
Maybe I am being a tad melodramatic, but nostalgia does wear rose tinted glasses.
Honest confessions.
ReplyDeleteDelighted to enter the inner sanctum sanctorum of a fighter pilot. Ha ha
Sumit M 84
Honest confessions.
ReplyDeleteDelighted to enter the inner sanctum sanctorum of a fighter pilot. Ha ha
Sumit M 84