“Sure, yeah. Of course. Like, what, you have a ‘kick the bucket list’? What’s on there?”
“I had a list with some titles, like Adventure, Learning, Trips, and Mystery. Things under there,” coughing a bit, “were like attending a Golden State Warriors game, seeing what happens to Donald Trump,… ah, reading the book The BFG, driving one of those GMC Acadias, drinking a margarita or Mojito, playing Pokémon Go, and, oh, getting a Netflix subscription.”
“Wow, Wu, yeah. That’s a hell of a list. Those are pretty cool,” said Ford, realizing how morbid the conversation was becoming. So young to have his life taken from him.
“Oh, it was way more, Ford. It also included more things like… ah, visiting Berkley, dancing with DJ AM,” coughing again. “Visiting Nice, France. Eating at Chipotle Mexican Grill, and, umm, well, taking the Hershey Chocolate Tour. You know, with my wife and kids, if I had them.”
“Hershey Chocolate Tour? What the hell is that?” Ford asked, laughing his ass off.
“Yup. I like chocolate.”
“A tour of a chocolate factory? Wu, come on. Really?” Ford asked again, still laughing.
“Yeah, I like that movie we saw when we were kids. You know, the one where the little people ride a river of chocolate.”
“Willie Wanka and the Chocolate Factory?” Ford asked, laughing again.
“Yeah, that one,” Wu answered. A few seconds went by. “Hey, is Netflix as cool as I read about? Can you really watch anything you want?”
“Yeah, Wu, you can. All sorts of movie and show options. Really, that’s a hell of a list,” Ford replied, then remained quiet for a few brief seconds, scanning the instruments. “Well, Wu, you could have taken your family white water rafting, too.”
Wu started laughing, then coughing, and was now smiling. “Stop, you’re making my gut hurt. From vivid memory, and this scar on my head, I’ve had enough white water rafting. Wait, wait. My last bucket list item.”
“What was that?”
“Getting groceries at Wegmans Food Markets.”
The Devil Dragon was on autopilot still, in calm air, and cruising along as calmly as things could be. The thin wings performed flawlessly as two best friends darted across the South Pacific. The sky above was still dark due to their altitude and the blue sea that surrounded them below started to become clearer as the sun came up.
“Wu. Our dreams as teenagers were to fly. We both did that. How many kids can decide at a young age that they want to do something, to set a goal, like we did, and do it? Hardly anyone. We did it. We did. And here we are right now, flying together.”
Wu didn’t say anything at first, and thought about what Ford had just said. “Yeah, Ford. You’re right. Hey… can you take a selfie of us? Of us flying together? I bet your Dad would like it,” Wu asked.
Ford got out his smart phone, searched for the camera app and opened it. “Here we go. Ready? Smile!” He pressed the button to take the shot. Just the right amount of sunlight was coming up now, and it was a fine-looking sunrise.
“Ford. I’m ready.”
“Wu, we just took the photo,” said Ford, looking at Wu strangely. “We’re done.”
“No, no. I mean I am ready to go.”
“Go where, Wu?”
“You know. I’m ready to go. I don’t want to die, but what I mean is that you helped me get ready to die. I feel… better about it. I treasure life and all my experiences, but I am ready to go when God calls me… Ford. I’m lonely and in such great pain, both emotionally and physically. It will be soon,” Wu said, opening up his heart to Ford.
“We don’t know that, Wu. You could have much more time here with us. Yes?”
Wu looked down at the flight deck floor. “Maybe. But if and when the time comes, Ford, I want you to know that I lived. I mean I really lived. With the exception of a wife and kids, no regrets. The opportunities came in life, and I took them. Relationships with girls, test pilot school, travel, flying hard, more travel, college, family with my Mom, family with you and the rest of the family,” Wu said, wiping his nose with his sleeve, and a quiet sniffle.
Ford got out of his seat after unstrapping, to give Wu a hug. “You’re family, Wu. I cannot imagine us doing anything different than what we are doing right now. Look down below. Beautiful Pacific Ocean all around. Sun already up. Is this a great view of the office or what? Our office!”
“Thanks, Ford. Thank you. I am so grateful you came.”
Ford looked at his watch, stretched his back, and double checked their position on the moving map display. He sat down to buckle in. “About an hour or so, and we’ll be on the deck of the carrier, Wu. Hang tight, brother.” Ford had a tear in his eye now, fully understanding Wu’s feelings.
The USS Gettysburg, hull number CG-64, was on a rare, Pacific Ocean tour, usually patrolling the Mediterranean Sea on deployments out of Mayport, Florida. Gettysburg, a Ticonderoga-class guided-missile cruiser in the U.S. Navy, is named after the Battle of Gettysburg during the Civil War. Her 567 feet in length carried four General Electric LM 2500 gas turbine engines with 80,000 shaft horsepower, controlling two reversible pitch propellers, along with two rudders. Her 33 officers, 27 Petty Officers, and 340 person crew could get Gettysburg up to 32-plus knots, helping to launch its two MH-60R Seahawks, or other visiting helicopters. She also carried guided missiles and rapid-fire cannons, and was capable of facing and defeating threats in the air, on the sea, or ashore, and underneath the sea.
A U.S. Marine Corps AH-1W Super Cobra attack helicopter, on Detachment from the 31st Marine Expeditionary Unit in Okinawa, was assigned to Gettysburg for a three-day visit. They had launched 43-minutes prior for instrument practice, scheduled for a two-hour flight.
“GUNFIGHTER 78, Gettysburg,” was heard over the UHF frequency on radio #2.
“This is GUNFIGHTER, go ahead.”
“GUNFIGHTER, stand by for Gettysburg 6,” said the controller.
From inside the cockpit of the Cobra, aircraft commander Padre and co-pilot Lefty, were two of the Marines’ best Cobra attack pilots. They were both experienced instructor pilots on their second overseas deployment, night systems qualified, and were both approaching 2,000 hours of flight time. Flying was what they loved to do. Busting chops on squadron mates was a close second.
“Gettysburg 6? Who the fuck is that? It’s not on the smart sheet,” Padre asked Lefty over the intercom, inside the aircraft, and searching on their kneeboard paperwork. The smart sheet is a condensed sheet of information about a particular mission printed in a way that perfectly fits on a pilot's kneeboard.
"Yeah it is you dumbass, look at the bottom of the last page… "
"Oh, shit…yeah, there it is…ship CO. What the hell does he want with us? You leave the iron on in your room, Padre?” Lefty said, laughing, always a smart aleck to a fellow Gunfighter. “Too much hair gel left near the heater?”
“Shut it. Yeah, I was ironing my flight suit,” Padre said, then quickly flipping the switch up to transmit outside the aircraft and reply.
“GUNFIGHTER 78, this is Gettysburg 6 here. Special request.”
“Go ahead, sir.”
“Gettysburg ATC is going to give you some magnetic headings to fly. A few vectors. Need you to keep your eyes open, and let us know if you see… eh… any unusual aircraft. You may see her, you may not. Bottom line is that we need your help.”