People who have travelled know that commercial airliners have a muffled sound as the power is applied. As airliners pass overhead the whine as the plane approaches is much louder and more defined than the exhaust sound, as it goes away. Because air is ducted around the engine and muffles the hot exhaust gasses.
Not so military jets. Under maximum power there is a crackling roar that is unmistakable. I call it The Sound of Freedom.
Because we live within view of the downwind leg (a little pilot lingo, that) of our local aerodrome, I heard it. It had to be something military, and sure enough, I saw a fast moving silver object climbing in the distance.
Later, I noticed and we ran out onto the lawn and watched it come in for a landing. A whole lot faster than the light planes that usually ply the local airways.
Behold, The Lockheed T-33.
When you have the perfect nose, you take it from the Lockheed P-38 and put it on the Lockheed T-33.
I use and talk about, but don't sell Amsoil.
Who is shatto?
06 4.7 Tundra replaced a 98 Dakota 3.9.
623,000 miles on original engine and transmission, using Amsoil by-pass filters and lubrication.
+Everybody knows something you don't know.
+Artists prove truth can be in forms you don't understand.
Low-Risk Option Trader
Retired Pro-Hunter featured in; 'African Hunter', by James R. Mellon III. and listed in; Rowland Ward's Records of Big Game.
I grew up less than 1/4 mile from the border of Quantico MCB, near the artillery ranges. It was nothing to see low flying military jets, the house would shake when they had bombing practice, and often times we could hear machine gun fire while waiting for the school bus in the mornings. When I worked for the Gov't, my office was on Quantico MCB, at the edge of the airfield. I saw all sorts of stuff there.
I grew up a mile from an Army base and a few miles from a major military airfield. I too heard plenty of machine guns and got buzzed by jets, as well as plenty of helicopters. Me and a buddy would occasionally sneak through the woods into the Army base and pick up spent rounds and clips (not magazines) then string them together into Rambo-style garments...
I grew up near a WWII Fortress base, was long decommissioned by the time I was a kid, but we found live .50 cal lying around... I guess they'd come back in "on a wing and a prayer" and the loose crap that was rolling around on the floor would fall out the flak holes when they put the nose down.
I remember The RoadWarrior..To understand who he was, you have to go back to another time..the world was powered by the black fuel & the desert sprouted great cities..Gone now, swept away..two mighty warrior tribes went to war & touched off a blaze which engulfed them all. Without fuel, they were nothing..thundering machines sputtered & stopped..Only those mobile enough to scavenge, brutal enough to pillage would survive. The gangs took over the highways, ready to wage war for a tank of juice
HC- We did that too... Ride our bikes out there and pick up stuff. A friend of mine took his car out on the tank trails and got it stuck... It was so funny to see that car when he finally got out. It was a Dodge Colt, and I swear the mud inside the car probably weighed more than the car...