He's Pretty Much No-Nonsense-An Excerpt

“I would have never known,” John responded.

“He’s not the type to go crazy over anyone, but he thinks you are ready to leave the nest. Only you are getting a chance to do so sooner than most. He trusts my judgment. I’ve told him of your abilities, plus all your jungle flying experience only helped him with his decision. We think you arrived here fully capable and the process is just a formality.”

“Not to mention Paul Abbot,” Rachel said.

“Don’t tell me he decided to leave?” John asked.

“He can’t exactly stay here with a special needs child. His place is with his family,” said Steve.

“I know. I thought there was something that could be done here for them,” said John.

“I’ll have to tell you about the boarding schools later.” Steve knew he still had a lot to show John “But that pales in comparison to how harsh an environment ours would be for a pilot trying to meet his child’s requirements.”

“I know how badly he wanted to stay,” said John.

“God still has plans for him,” Steve reminded.

But do those plans include flying? John thought.

“Tomorrow we’ll hit some mountain passages and see how you handle ‘em,” said Steve.

“I’m ready to hit it,” said John.

“Understand that Jason cares for everyone here and is careful how he dispatches the pilots and missionaries. He has to evaluate everyone. No slackers, no individuals, and definitely no hot shots,” Steve said.

“Yeah, I figured him as no nonsense,” said John.

“Just remember, there is a lot of pressure that comes with his job. And there’s a whole string of events that led him here,” said Steve.

“I guess so,” John said. He reluctantly pushed back from the table. “I’d better go.”

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Is that a Problem? An Excerpt from Commitment A Novel

“John, I know you are tolerating the time here you aren’t flying. After all, you’ve made quite an impression on the other pilots and mechanics,” said Steve a few weeks later over after-dinner coffee.

“I guess my background as a crew chief and mechanic actually came in handy.”

“All the other families talk about how you’ve been helping out with teaching. Some of the pilots say you are a natural with air frames and powerplants,” Rachel, Steve’s wife said.

“That’s all fine, but what about Jason? I need to earn his respect or something. I’ve got to figure out how to make him see I’m ready to start some serious flying.”

“I really don’t think that will be too far into the future.”

John noticed Rachel’s pursing lips and quivering chin, her attempt to hide a mischievous smile.

“Okay, guys, what’s going on? I’ve only known you a little while, but nonetheless, too well.”

“It’s like this. No matter how you imagine your relationship with Jason, he respects you tremendously. But he knows your heart isn’t in it for the long haul,” said Steve.

“Who does he think...,” said John.

“Hold on now, let me finish. We’ve had lots of pilots here and each with his own reasons. Some want to be missionaries, some are drawn by danger, and some, like you, love to fly but have future plans that don’t end here,” said Steve.

“Is that usually a problem?” asked John.

“Of course not,” Rachel interrupted. “We’ve always accepted everyone who served with us no matter what motivated them to do so. God has his own way of bringing people into his work.”

“She’s right. And Jason sees that potential in you. You’ve impressed him thus far, and he is ready to give you more responsibility, right away,” Steve said.

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

He Wants to Fly for the Airlines-An Excerpt from Commitment A Novel

     “I’ve taught him everything I know. Especially the few flying restrictions. He likes the idea of uncontrolled airspace,” said Steve.

     Jason bristled. “He has to realize uncontrolled airspace or not, I give the final decision about flights.”

     “I think John is cool with that. He just has to get used to the idea of falling under your authority and obeying POW-imposed restrictions,” Steve defended.

     “That’s your job then. I agree, he is probably more experienced than most of our pilots, but reel him in. It’s not a one-man show.” Jason was hesitant about the idea of giving John a route sooner than usual. “What else?”

     “He is aware of weather and terrain dangers. I’ve reiterated that flying in cloud cover and heavy fog is treacherous and unpredictable, strictly prohibited and tightly enforced,” said Steve. “I’ll keep reminding him.”

     “Make sure he understands. If not, we’ll keep him in training.”

     “Jason, there’s something else.”

     Jason flinched as Steve told him of John’s desire to fly for an airline.

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 Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

We'll just work you while you are here

CHAPTER 5

“That was an excellent landing,” Steve said once on the primitive air strip.

“This is definitely a smaller area than I am used to landing in,” John said over the running engine. “Plus I’m not used to landing uphill.”

“This is probably one of the toughest landing areas you will eventually take over from me,” said Steve.

“Who lives here?” asked John. Their landing earned only a few glimpses and a wave from the villagers up the hill. John wasn’t sure, but he thought the half-naked males wore gourds to cover themselves.

“A branch of the Yali tribe. They inhabit most of the Balium Valley. We won’t stay though. The missionary that served here had to leave for personal reasons. I don’t know when he will be replaced.”

“Daryl told me that a lot of people end up leaving,” said John. He watched as Steve took the controls and pointed the plane downhill.

“Try taking off this way,” said Steve. “We do have some leaving. The Lawrences were as dedicated as any, but he had to take care of his family. There are a lot of hardships to being a missionary, but it’s tougher when your children don’t adjust,” said Steve.

John could feel his stomach drop as the plane lurched skyward. “Dedication to job verses dedication to the family,” he said.

“It’s going to be just as tough for you,” said Steve. “You’ll get homesick and lonely. Dedication takes on many forms and has many obstacles. I’m sure you are feeling some pangs.”

“Yeah, I guess I am. I’m not sure I will make it as long as most pilots do,” said John.

“Oh, in what way?” asked Steve.

John suddenly felt nervous. “I mean, I have no problem being here but I see myself flying airliners. That’s my future,” said John uncomfortably.

Steve seemed unfazed.

“You don’t see that as a problem?” asked John.

“Somewhat, but I think the Lord has you here for some reason. We’ll just have to work with you while we have you,” said Steve.

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

The Dedication-From Commitment

Beautiful Indonesia 

     Within weeks they had burned away much of the clearing. This method assisted in the hunt for scarce meat and was often used in defense as warring tribes were flushed out of any cover by an all consuming fire. When the burning and stone axes proved futile, there were always the chain saws from Tiom. The villagers loved the loud noise and display of raw power as a fueled chain whirled around chewing up any resistance. Men toiling to move mounds of dirt had the most tedious and back breaking of work. Human earth movers burdened under the weight of the soil, had traversed in monotonous patterns as they had smoothed the landing strip as much as possible.

     Finally, one month ahead of schedule, the runway was complete. Marta and the excited villagers had watched as Steve’s Cessna 182 spiraled into the valley. Some of them became jumpy as the engine suddenly went quiet about a mile from the runway. “A young boy named Tucker thought it would crash, but Marta had only smiled. She knew it was part of the procedures to bleed of speed and slow the airplane enough to land.

     Marta had seen Steve smiling from ear to ear as he climbed out of his aircraft. In mass, the whole village had moved down to see him, surrounding the man from the sky and touching his blue and white bird. They wondered what kind of magic made this machine soar so high. Some had tried to find out as they anticipated the chance to experience flight; they would become legendary.

     “You handled that new runway like the professional you are,” Marta had said.

     “It was a pleasure. We worked hard, and it paid off. I’ll try out the takeoffs, as soon as I get some of the weight out.” Steve had pointed to his plane.

      “You mean there is more?” Marta had marveled at the supplies Steve had already unloaded.

      “Just come back to the plane with me and see,” Steve had said, smiling mischievously.

     Together, Steve and Marta had walked back to the plane.

     “Do you remember when I told you I had another project to take care of?” Steve’s eyes had hardly contained his excitement.

     “Yes, I guess you got it all done. What did you need to do?”

     “Only this.” Steve had reached in and with both hands had struggled with a heavy burden. He pulled half of a canvassed object out and asked one of the men to help remove the covering. “I don’t think an airfield should be without a dedication.”

     Marta’s heart had stopped. Her sparkling eyes had blinked rapidly in an attempt to dam the welling tears. She had bitten her lip hard to stop her quivering chin, but all efforts had failed her. She had read the sign over and over again in those few seconds to capture each letter in her mind. Her tears had fallen, but her face had beamed with pride and approval.

      “Oh, thank you, Steve, thank you. It is so wonderful.”

     One of her closest friends, Numah, who had also lost a husband in the same battle as Raymond, had come to Marta’s aid. Numah did not understand the reason for the happy crying, but had known Marta needed a hug.

     “It’s okay, Numah, this is a wonderful gift from our friends in Tiom,” Marta had said.

     “I hope you like it, Marta. I took a collection up and had this made,” Steve had said.

     “It’s truly beautiful. I know the perfect place for it.”

     Together they had erected the sign reading, “RAYMOND SPRINGER MEMORIAL AIRFIELD.”

     Marta returned from her thoughts as she focused on the plaque. It looks as if it had been made yesterday. She wiped tears and memories away as she forced her mind to the present, then stooped to pull some weeds from the base of the sign and nodded with approval.

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Gourds and Stone Axes

CHAPTER 4

Time never stood still in the small village of Tarampura, one in a chain along the Great Baliem Valley. This was the home the ornamental Dani. Marta Springer knew her link of the chain all too well. Two years ago next month, she reminded herself, shivering at the repulsive thought. She shook her head trying to escape sadness as she set out to inspect the airfield. I want to make sure it is neat for the new guy. Viewing the landing strip so critically brought back painful memories.

“This is the best way to remember Raymond,” she had said two years before, upon return after burying her late husband. “He had always spoken of making a runway near the village. You know how slow the boats are.” She reminded Jason of the 25 miles from Tiom, forever by boat but only a few minutes by air.

Within weeks some of the pilots had traveled by boat, surveyed the area, and found a place that would be suitable for a runway. They had hired some men from the village who worked with stone axes to clear an outline of what would be a 25 foot by 1700 foot airstrip.

“I’d always wanted to land in your village. You have no idea how beautiful it looks nestled between the mountain and the Baliem River,” Steve had said as he and his crew spent the night.

“How long do you think it will take? I mean, I can’t believe this is all happening. I wish Raymond could be here to see his dream.” Marta had said.

“Raymond would be proud. Proud of the strip, and proud of your hard work. We should be done in about six months provided the weather holds out and the workers keep their interest,” Steve had said.

“I don’t think the Dani will be a hard sell for the idea of a landing strip. I think they’ll be eager to build a place where the aloof motorized birds could roost.” Marta had said of the comments Steve had made. They’d seen planes fly overhead, but had never touched nor seen one up close.

“Just look around. Men wearing nothing but gourds, taming the jungle growth with stone axes. It’s a sight for any anthropologist,” Marta had said.

 

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Showing the New Guy Around

“Hey, John, are you awake?” Steve spoke through the closed door.

“Yeah, come in.”

“It’s almost time for prayer breakfast. Rachel and I thought you might want to sit with us, seeing how you brought a reminder of America with you. We all want to get caught up on State-side life,” said Steve.

“Well, you’ve made me feel welcome, and I appreciate it.” John got up to follow Steve.

“Good! We’ve got a busy schedule today so I hope you are ready,” said Steve.

“Any of it involve flying?” John asked.

“Actually, we have a few lessons planned,” Steve answered.

“I heard I had to go through some sort of training,” John said, hoping to sound agreeable.

“Yes, but be patient. Sometimes you may get to fly a lot, and other times depend on the availability of planes and missions. We’ll focus on showing you around and getting your papers cleared with the government. It may take awhile, but it’s survivable,” Steve encouraged.

“Sounds terrible.” John feigned horror.

“It is, believe me. But the best thing to do is sit back and learn as much as you can, read your lessons, study your Bible, and pray for patience.”

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

The Deep Sleep-An Excerpt from Commitment-A Novel

     

 John followed the voices and the spicy scent of food to the dining area where half of Tiom gathered.

     “You made it,” Daryl called.

     John turned briskly toward the familiar voice.

     “Come on over and meet some people, if you haven’t already,” Daryl said.

John rolled his eyes and headed toward her. “If it weren’t for Steve, I may not have made it this far. I probably would have been starving in my bed, dying for a midnight snack.”

     “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention,” Jason spoke up from atop one of the chairs, not really needing the extra height. “Hello,” he continued tapping a serving spoon on a glass.

     Eventually, all attention was focused on him.

     “I would like to take this time to officially welcome the newest member of our roost. He flew all the way from Texas, and boy, are his arms tired,” Jason offered the familiar joke receiving only sporadic snickers.

     “Okay, I see that went over your heads. “Anyway, I’m sure that you have many questions for him, but, please, for John’s sake, give him some breathing room. He will be here long enough to update everyone on life at home.”

     “Here, here,” John said.

     Someone in the background laughed out loud.

     “Anyway, let’s make him feel welcome. So, without further ado, let’s eat some of this wonderful food. Doug, would you please lead us with a word of thanks?”

     John decided immediately he liked everyone. It was hard to really talk to Jason as he couldn’t get past a greeting. He decided it must be all the fuss of the evening and dismissed it.

     Later, burned out and grateful to be under covers, he lay his head down on the first pillow he had seen in a few days and fell into a deep sleep.



Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Tired But Recovering-An Excerpt From Commitment-A Novel

A light and rhythmic rapping on the partially closed door jolted John into consciousness. His grogginess felt as heavy as any drug or medically induced sleep. Myriad dark spots playfully teased him and for a split second he forgot where he was.

Fading daylight flowed through the hall and leaked into John’s open door. Pale blue meekly glowed through his partially open windows as he made his way to the door. He almost stumbled over one of his sleeping feet as he hobbled from his wicker chair, but the sturdy walls supported him.

“I must have fallen asleep,” John apologized.

“Your hoarse voice is a good indication.” Steve teased. He noticed John’s unpacked bags on the floor. “You must be exhausted. I’m really sorry to bother you, but we were expecting you for dinner and when you didn’t show…,”

“Hey, forget about it. I should have been there.” John smiled, caught in a stretch.

“You new guys have a hard time adjusting to the time. Sometimes our days get pretty long and tiring, and it takes all you have just to get out of the plane and trudge to bed. “Anyway, I thought you might come to dinner, it might make you feel better.”

“Dinner sounds great. Just give me a few minutes to clean up. I was actually getting undressed earlier, and when I sat down to take off my boots, I must have fallen asleep,” John admitted.

“I’ll let you get ready. “About 10 minutes?” asked Steve.

“That’s plenty of time.”

After brushing his teeth and enjoying a quick shave, John felt 70 percent better. His fatigue still rode him like a pack on an overburdened mule.

 Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Commitment Excerpt

John’s first assessment of Tiom reminded him of the setting in most bush pilot stories he had ever read. The rich greenery surrounding a well-used runway was almost cliché. “Adventures would be launched from this small cradle he would call home, most likely stemming from encounters with such flying hazards as tall snow-covered mountains, smoke from clear-cutting, and clouds.

Daryl led him to the two waiting men. One was very tall, about a head taller than the other. He looked purely business with his hands clasped behind his back; nothing to hide. The other wore the warmest smile John had ever seen.

During introductions, a small crowd of greeters circled the four. John felt himself being whisked away to a more private meeting.

“We’ve been looking toward your arrival,” Jason said in a rehearsed voice. “Our responsibilities cover a lot of ground, as you’ll soon learn.”

“Thank you both for the welcome. Daryl has been briefing me on your little operation here and I’m anxious to get started.”

“I can assure you there is nothing ‘little’ about what we do here,” Jason defended. “There are many people who rely on us for logistical support.”

“Sorry, did I say something wrong?” John asked.

“Never mind him, as the backbone of the setup, Jason’s a little overworked. In fact, he has staff just to monitor his blood pressure,” Steve said chuckling.

“All right, excuse me if I take a little pride. I’m sure you meant no harm, nor did I. I just wanted you to know how important our work is. New pilots don’t understand this until reality hits them head on, sometimes in the form of disease or a plane wreck. Working here is no way to collect flight hours. Our business is people’s lifeline, an intravenous line straight to their hearts. Realize this early on and your work here will be rewarding for you and those whose lives you touch,” Jason said.

“I couldn’t say it better myself,” admitted Daryl. “I guess that’s why you’re in charge.”

“Steve, why don’t you take John’s bags and show him to his quarters and I’ll have the mechanics service Daryl’s plane.” Jason clapped his hands together as if a movie director was cutting a scene. “Why don’t we have a little informal get together for dinner tonight, since we have some special guests. “Around 6:30?”

“Sounds good. You know that Rachel will be more than willing to help,” Steve volunteered his wife. He turned to John. “Let’s get you settled into your new home.”

“Good to have met all of you.” John waved wearily. “I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

John followed Steve to a cinder block building adjacent the hanger compound. It was a long one-story complex with roll-open windows. Just inside a large cork board displayed messages and swayed as the two walked by.

Inside, John’s new room was surprisingly pleasant. Wicker furniture offered a homey atmosphere and was far from tacky. John found himself escorted to a roomy suite doubling as a dining or study area then to a separate bedroom. Everything was furnished except for the kitchen and plumbing which were shared in a community room down the hall.

“After saying good-bye, John unpacked and stared out of the window at the people working to outrace the sun. He recognized some faces of people he had already met. They now struggled to tow Daryl’s plane to a primitive shelter. Some of the now familiar residents removed clothing from clotheslines and others prepared for dinner while another small group carried notebooks and Bibles back to their rooms.

The setting sun reminded John that he had about an hour to clean up. Settling into a creaking chair, he wondered how he would ever have the strength to socialize during the coming evening.

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

He's Early--An Excerpt from Commitment A Novel

Jason Heatherly, the staunch, no-nonsense, mission-comes-first, do as I say, Irian Jaya director of Prayer on a Wing, sat over a late lunch. He reviewed supply requests of the remotely located missionaries and flight records of the Tiom-based pilots while his lunch cooled. He was responsible for what he called customer satisfaction, with the customer being the missionaries. He took pride in his keen ability to handle such an immense logistical duty. This one man operation was, for his predecessors, a complex affair.

When he had first arrived eighteen months before, Jason had had no time to transition into the job. The man who had run the show had had to return stateside unexpectedly. For a week, Steve Millican had temporarily hung up his wings to supervise the operations. Finally, the prayers of the community had been answered when Daryl flew in with mail and a replacement director. Out of the passenger side of the red and white plane unfolded a thirty-five-year-old tall and lanky Jason. His serious deep set eyes and quick stride had let everyone know his intent to take charge, much to Steve’s relief.

Steve walked in, interrupting Jason’s thoughts. He had given some of Steve’s flights to the other pilots cutting his schedule gradually so Steve could train the incoming pilot.

“I’m a free man, Jason,” Steve announced with relief. “Most of my routes are handed over so now all we need is the new guy.”

Jason looked up from his working lunch, smiled, and motioned for his blond-haired friend to join him. “Great to hear that. Mr. Braddham should be here any day now,” he said, studying his partner’s ruddy face for a reaction. “I’ve been going over the support requests and flight statistics and things seem to be running smoothly except for this.” He handed Steve a report one of the missionaries filled out earlier.

“This must be what Marta told me about. She said that some of the people in her village were having trouble with someone men digging and blasting in the mountains,” Steve said.

“Trouble?”

“Water running off the hills is dirty with a coppery appearance. She thinks someone who is up to no good up there may be contaminating it. She also says some of the village hunting parties have been shoved around for “trespassing” in the ‘white demons’ area. Sometimes the livestock is stolen, and the superstitious ones are complaining about the wildlife disappearing.” Steve got up to get coffee.

“Why haven’t you told me?” Jason demanded.

“Actually the trouble started a few weeks ago, and then suddenly there was no further mention. Maybe it has stopped. I’ll check with Marta the next time I fly down.”

“Nonetheless, I’m going to give the authorities a heads-up on this one,” Jason warned.

The radio in the control room crackled to life as Daryl informed them of her arrival.

Steve and Jason walked out to the runway and watched as the red and white plane set up for an approach. The sun was to their backs and painted long shadows and orange hues onto the pale canvas of runway. As the plane neared, the drone of the engine quieted as Daryl pulled the throttle back precisely where the plane would glide to a landing.

Dozens of people, excited about receiving mail, filed out from schoolrooms where they taught English lessons and Bible classes. Some carried books, others Bibles, and some of the kitchen staff wore aprons.

The Cessna drifted softly to a landing. “After shutting down, the two front doors opened and the occupants came out and spent a few seconds stretching the kinks out while cargo was unloaded.

“I guess he’s early,” Steve said.

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

This is home

CHAPTER 2

Daryl Stromburgh knew that this stranger had been caught off guard by her appearance, and it wasn’t anything new. Even as a teenager, men had somehow tried to hinder her interest in aviation. She reasoned that female aviation pioneers had been struggling in that battle since before Amelia Earhart and that gave her a tough defensive edge.

In spite of her toughness, her matchless beauty was highlighted by shoulder length red hair emphasized by the rising sun. She cut an imposing figure with hands on hips, but the intimidation softened as she walked toward him.

“John, meet Daryl Stromburgh. Daryl, this is John Braddham,” Ted introduced.

“From the surprised look on your face, I can see you weren’t expecting a woman pilot. If it’s all the same to you, I can out-fly anyone anywhere in this hemisphere or even the world for that matter,” she said with fingers pointed, stressing each syllable, her whole arm taking on the appearance of a pecking chicken. “So don’t try any remarks about women drivers, especially around me. Just a warning before you say anything.”

“I guess I did look incredulous,” John said. He didn’t like lectures, especially when not deserved. “You are correct. I was expecting a man...”

“Typical,” Daryl responded.

“Not so.” John held up his hand, wanting to finish. “I was fooled by your name, and Ted didn’t bother to correct my thinking.”

They both shot a glance in the direction of the grinning director.

“You gotta watch his mischievous side; other than that, he’s not so bad,” Daryl slowly let her guard down.

“Well, as I was saying, the name fooled me. Now, since you prejudged me, allow me to enlighten you about where I’m coming from. I served a few years as a military pilot and most of them in Vietnam. I am proud to have flown with some of the best aviators in our nation, and yes, some were women.” John was still a little steamed under the collar. “So don’t start expecting special treatment, especially from me. Just a warning before you say anything.”

He understands. Not too many left like him. Daryl thought. “Touché, John, and I’m sorry for attacking you like that. It wasn’t fair to punish you for the faults of others, but you seemed to take it well.”

“Now that you two are civil, I think it is safe enough for you to travel together. I wouldn’t let you fly over rivers and through valleys with chips on your shoulders.” Matt spoke with relief.

“The plane is now loaded and fueled, Ms. Stromburgh,” said the young man who had awakened John.

“Good luck, John, and make sure you take care of this guy, Daryl. I don’t want him scared off.”

“As John and Daryl left, John saw the community around the airstrip alive with activity. He watched teachers and children walk to a simple school house. The children wore combinations of traditional and western clothing of handed down or donated t-shirts adorned with pictures and logos. He could tell by their content faces that they had no idea of how utterly strange the mixture of cultures looked.

“May I carry your bags, sir?” the ghost from earlier asked.

“I can handle them,” John replied.

“Go ahead, let him. That’s what he’s paid to do,” Daryl said.

John shot her a glance. “All right, take ‘em already.”

The young man bolted ahead and loaded the baggage.

“You’ve got to be friendlier, that’s what these people know, and that’s what they expect from missionaries.” Daryl was appalled.

“Whatever,” John huffed. “How long is the flight to Tiom?”

“Roughly five hours not including refueling stops. It goes pretty fast though.” Daryl tried to sound optimistic.

“After a quick pre-flight inspection, they were airborne and flying northwesterly. Daryl took advantage of the long flight to fill John in on the operation in the area where he would work.

Daryl and John discovered they had a lot in common. The twenty-eight-year-old pilot was also raised in John’s home state of Texas, but she came from the eastern part of the state bordering Louisiana. And like John, she was very enthusiastic about aviation. What they had in common ended there. She loved the missionary work with its bush flying. For John, missionary aviation was only a stepping stone to bigger opportunities.

“It’s nothing to go from swampy, to mountainous to flat terrain in one flight. You’ll do flying like most people never experience. Hopefully you don’t get airsick too easily, but be merciful if your passengers do. It’s nothing to have to clean up a few sickness-related accidents every flight or so. We are the lifeline, the only access to the outside world the missionaries will have. I usually try to bring magazines or simple games, anything that I can to remind these dedicated people that they aren’t forgotten.”

“Does anyone ever just ‘hang it up’ and go back home?” John asked.

“Surprisingly, many pilots have returned home early. We’ve had a huge turnover because of the war. Some who have lost brothers, fathers, or other families had to help with hardships at home. The rest are another story. Perhaps it is because they came out here expecting something else, or they weren’t committed to the Lord’s work or the hardships involved. It’s not the kind of place you want to be if you’re not dedicated and prepared for what’s ahead,” Daryl warned.

John didn’t say anything, pondering her words carefully. “I don’t know,” he wondered out loud. “What brought you here?”

“Tough question. I guess I felt I was meant to do this. It just feels right, you know?”

As they flew, the terrain began to rise and Daryl flew through well-rehearsed mountain passages. She explained the importance of knowing where they were and stressed that the passages were the only way to access some of the remote mountain villages. Finally, Daryl pointed to a spot on the horizon where two rivers nearly came together.

“Heading west is the Baliem, and southerly is the Tariku. Both are major rivers into the area. It’s not unusual for a lot of missionaries to travel by river to places where we pilots can’t land. The town in the middle…” she pointed, “…is home–Tiom.”

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Not There Yet; Miles to Go-Commitment a Novel

Along the way, Matt told John of his own experiences in Papua, New Guinea, and several visits to other missionaries in the West Indies and New Guinea. “Irian Jaya has only in the last ten years been handed down from United Nations’ control after the Dutch released control. What amazes me is that they have a national language, but it doesn’t matter because each village is remote and has its own dialect,” he said as he drove the bouncing jeep down secondary roads.

“You mean I just wasted all this time learning Bahasa?” John reflected on his three months of missionary basic training.

“It’s not a waste of time; you’ll need it in dealing with government workers. But in the remote areas it’s a different and primitive game. But don’t worry; the local missionaries can translate for you.”

“Well, I don’t plan on doing too much talking–only flying. Shouldn’t here too long.” John watched the tall trees lining the road like soldiers standing at attention.

“If I may speak frankly,” Matt didn’t wait for permission. “If you are here to log enough flying hours to land a job with an airline, I think the nature of your work will change your heart, or send you packing.”

“Maybe.” Don’t count on it. I’ll fly in, and in nine to twelve months, fly out. John yawned, too tired to continue the conversation.

***

“Are we there?” John asked groggily a few hours later.

“Finally here. You slept through most of it, but I imagine it wasn’t enough rest,” Matt replied.

“Sorry, I guess I wasn’t much company,” said John.

“That’s all right. Let’s take your bags in and get you on your way to your new life.”

John unloaded and checked in with the POW administration. His fears were relieved when Matt told him his flight would be out the next afternoon with the mail delivery.

“John, have a safe and productive visit,” Matt said, extending his right hand. “Just a word of advice. Be careful to show the utmost respect to the indigent people as well as the missionaries under their care. They can get really nasty when offended.”

John thought about Mathew’s last words as he pulled back the sheets to his temporary bed. He laid his head on the pillow and fell asleep.

Red smoke drifted above the primitive helipad. Like a butterfly to sweet nectar, John and his helicopter flew to the clearing where the smoke grenade belched its crimson message. Soldiers injured during intense fighting needed to be evacuated, and John swore to get the job done.

“Hurry up and get in!” he screamed over the swishing of the spinning rotors. He could see the blinding flashes and the quaking of the earth as artillery exploded around him. “Just throw them in here and let’s go.”

The soldiers moved incredibly slowly as the explosions of artillery walked closer to the chopper. John could feel his hands sweating, and pulse quicken.

“Let’s go!” he screamed.

Finally, John felt the change in cabin pressure as the large cargo door slammed shut and the aircraft began its ascent. Even the air seemed to shake as explosions rocked the atmosphere. John watched medics wave frantically, begging him to land for the newly wounded. “I can’t land!” he screamed in frustration. “We’re too heavy!”

The helicopter seemed to float in slow motion as John increased the throttle and pushed the stick forward. He heard new screams coming from the passenger area of the Huey as they reacted to every bump and turn. They continued to scream horribly, until John turned to face them.

John bolted upright. He thought the days of nightmares were over since he’d quit flying helicopters in Vietnam. In the darkness he saw a motion in his peripherals, startling him. He gasped and nearly panicked until a stealthy figure put out a hand in gesture of friendliness. “Please, I do not mean to harm you,” the faceless shadow said

“Never, ever sneak up on anyone, especially me!” John ordered, fully intending to register his distress.

“I am very sorry,” the shadow said quietly. “It is breakfast time, yes? Everyone awake and waiting for you at table.” The ghost faded away.

John stretched and reached for his cloths and the towel provided. Could he be one of the natives? Maybe the people in Irian Jaya will have the same command of English... fat chance.

After showering in the lukewarm water, John shaved, dressed, and found his way to the dining area. The woman who checked him in the night before introduced him to the director.

“So good to finally meet you, Mr. Braddham.” Ted Jackson extended his hand enthusiastically.
“Thanks to Matt Smith, many of our missionaries find their way here easily.” He pulled a chair from the table and motioned for John to sit.

John thought for a minute about Ted’s definition of ‘easy’ before taking the extended hand and pumping it firmly. “Good to meet you too, Mr. Jackson. Sorry if I look a little rough, but I feel like I was dragged from Texas.”

“That’s quite all right. You should get used to the time change soon enough. Here at the home base we receive missionaries who travel to our sphere of operation. Be it Indonesia or New Guinea, our philosophy is to get you to your assignment as soon as possible. That’s the sure way to motivate your biological clock to adjust faster,” Jackson said.

“I was looking for a few days of napping, but working my body into this time zone makes better sense. That’s exactly what happened to us when we were sent to Vietnam–we hit the airport running,” John said in reflection. “Besides, I’d really like to get to flying, if you know what I mean, Mr. Jackson.”

“Call me Ted. I know your military background has taught you respect for your elders and those who are appointed over you. But it’s not as necessary here as it is in battle, even though ours is a spiritual one. Just be patient about flying. The routes you will fly are harrowing, even for the best pilots.”

“So, this past training is somehow not enough?” John asked hoping not to sound desperate.

“No, not at all. It’s just the foundation you will build upon. We need to hone your abilities. In the meantime, your first few weeks will be spent as an apprentice,” Ted said.

“As long as I get to fly.” John wondered if he sounded like a broken record.

“Eat up, there’s plenty of food,” Ted offered, changing the subject while glancing at his watch. “You will be leaving in an hour or so.”

While eating, John found himself updating fellow Americans on their favorite TV shows including The Brady Bunch and Ironside.

Others wanted to know the latest in news and sports, the kind of information one doesn’t see too often or acquire quickly enough. The foreign missionaries snickered at the attentiveness to American popular culture. But what they had in common was a desire for their precious work, though they seemed generally homesick.

John heard the approaching engines of a light plane. “Is that my ride?”

“That’s it. Daryl will probably come in for coffee while the cargo is transferred,” said Ted.

“Great, I’ll get my bags together. Tell him it’ll be just a minute.” John got up to leave.

Quiet snickering filled the room then hushed as the screen door creaked open.

“No need to wait, she’s here now,” said Ted.

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

No Rest For the Weary

Stepping off the plane, John saw his own name scribbled in large balloon letters across a sign held at arm’s length above the serpentine line of people snaking in front of him. He waved at his contact, an American missionary named Matthew Smith. The short blond wore an easy smile with friendly but weary eyes.

“Welcome to Port Moresby, Mr. Braddham. How was your flight?” Matt welcomed, reaching for John’s carry-on bag.

“Very long. I can’t wait to stretch out,” John replied, hanging on to the bag.

“I’m sorry; you won’t be able to do that just yet. We still have a four-hour drive to POW’s New Guinea headquarters. Then fly from there to Irian Jaya,” Smith said of the Prayer On a Wing organization.

John tried to hide his impatience. “Four hours! I thought I would take my flight from here.”

“Well, Mr. Braddham, no plane from here can take you where you need to go,” Matt said, leading the way. “Plus it is cheaper altogether to send you on the next supply plane to Irian Jaya.”

“No rest for the weary.” Not that I’ve traveled for the greater part of twenty-four hours, changing planes in Honolulu and Sidney. Nothing that I’m not used to. John reflected of his flight to Vietnam a few years earlier.

Now he was here, less than a year after attending a church service describing the shortage of the missionary pilot supply worldwide. The war in Vietnam needed all qualifying pilots.

“Come along, Mr. Braddham.” Matt plodded ahead, shaking his head.

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Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Chapter 1-An excerpt from Commitment a Novel

Papua, New Guinea, looked serene from 12,000 feet above sea level. Even from thirty miles away, John could make out the rain forests beyond the strand of the southern shore. Light wisps of steam hung over the island, revealing the high humidity common to this area of the world. The changing waters of the Arafura Sea and the Gulf of Carpentaria graduated beautifully from light green at the tip of Cape York Peninsula, Australia, to a beautiful azure and back to light green in the billowing waves on the shores of New Guinea.

So this is home. John pressed his forehead against the cool cabin window. The island in view was roughly the size of Greenland with the tall Puncak Jaya, rising 5,030 meters above the ground. Neighboring peaks perched above the haze like pyramids.

Instinctively, he reached for his flight bag as he had done five times throughout the flight. He unzipped it and sighed with relief at the two familiar slim books. Approvingly, he nodded as he flipped through page after page of his first flight log, recalling his hundreds of hours of experience behind the controls of planes and helicopters. He tucked it back into his bag then pulled out the second book. The pages he flipped through were blank reminders of experiences yet to come. Just a thousand more hours, that should do it.

His thoughts were interrupted by the pilot’s soothing expressions of intent to land. The southern coast filled the windows on the left side of the plane. He could almost make out the waves cresting to shore as the plane rolled out of a right bank. John squinted to see the airport runway stretching before him like welcoming arms.

Find out what happens next in the exciting novel Commitment:

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Big Ugly Bird--Dinner

To the southwest, the mountain range covered the retreating sun, leaving behind a tell-tale eerie pink and blue. Still a few hours before sunset, the village was in the shadow of the mighty Maoke Mountains. As if cued by a legendary director, the entire village came suddenly to life with shouts of triumph and laughter, as they buzzed excitedly around the hunting party.

“Wow, what got them on the warpath?” John asked.

“Sounds like the hunting party is back. Come on, let’s see what they bagged,” Marta replied.

John laughed at her choice of wording and took up a quick stride matching her. As they neared, John saw one of the party hopping around with the ugliest bird he had ever seen slung across his shoulders.

The bird had the longest legs, save for the ostriches he saw in zoos and on Wild Kingdom. Instead of feathers, it sported long fine hairs. Blue and red adorned its neck, reminding John of the bright colors of a baboon

“THAT’S disgusting!” John exclaimed wide eyed.

“THAT’S dinner,” Marta said.

“I’m not eating it, if that’s what you think,” John replied.

“I’m recalling our conversation about being courteous and non-offensive, is what I think.”

“You are a tough one, Marta Springer.”

“It’s not like you have to eat the whole thing. There’s probably only enough for a taste. I recommend you at least have the courtesy to try,” Marta said.

“What is it?”

“That is the Cassowary, they call it... hmm, I guess the best translation is ugly stilt bird,” Marta said.

“I’d say. But look, I can relate to those wild piglets they are showing off,” said John.

“You are in for a real treat fireside tonight-chockfull of adventurous hunting stories,” Marta said.”

“I can’t wait.”

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

Who Does He Think He Is? An Excerpt From Commitment-a Novel

     “John, I know you are tolerating the time here you aren’t flying. After all, you’ve made quite an impression on the other pilots and mechanics,” said Steve a few weeks later over after-dinner coffee.
     “I guess my background as a crew chief and mechanic actually came in handy.”
     “All the other families talk about how you’ve been helping out with teaching. Some of the pilots say you are a natural with air frames and power plants,” Rachel, Steve’s wife said.
     “That’s all fine, but what about Jason? I need to earn his respect or something. I’ve got to figure out how to make him see I’m ready to start some serious flying.”
     “I really don’t think that will be too far into the future.”
John noticed Rachel’s pursing lips and quivering chin, her attempt to hide a mischievous smile.
     “Okay, guys, what’s going on? I’ve only known you a little while, but nonetheless, too well.”
     “It’s like this. No matter how you imagine your relationship with Jason, he respects you tremendously. But he knows your heart isn’t in it for the long haul,” said Steve.
     “Who does he think...,” said John.
     “Hold on now, let me finish. We’ve had lots of pilots here and each with his own reasons. Some want to be missionaries, some are drawn by danger, and some, like you, love to fly but have future plans that don’t end here,” said Steve.
     “Is that usually a problem?” asked John.
     “Of course not,” Rachel interrupted. “We’ve always accepted everyone who served with us no matter   what motivated them to do so. God has his own way of bringing people into his work.”
     “She’s right. And Jason sees that potential in you. You’ve impressed him thus far, and he is ready to give you more responsibility, right away,” Steve said.
     “I would have never known,” John responded.


Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.

I want to fly for the airlines-An Excerpt from Commitment

“I’ve taught him everything I know. Especially the few flying restrictions. He likes the idea of uncontrolled airspace,” said Steve.

Jason bristled. “He has to realize uncontrolled airspace or not, I give the final decision about flights.”

“I think John is cool with that. He just has to get used to the idea of falling under your authority and obeying POW-imposed restrictions,” Steve defended.

“That’s your job then. I agree, he is probably more experienced than most of our pilots, but reel him in. It’s not a one-man show.” Jason was hesitant about the idea of giving John a route sooner than usual. “What else?”

“He is aware of weather and terrain dangers. I’ve reiterated that flying in cloud cover and heavy fog is treacherous and unpredictable, strictly prohibited and tightly enforced,” said Steve. “I’ll keep reminding him.”

“Make sure he understands. If not, we’ll keep him in training.”

“Jason, there’s something else.”

Jason flinched as Steve told him of John’s desire to fly for an airline.

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals. Visit his website http://www.redbikepublishing.com for information on purchasing Commitment, or to learn how to write your own book.

I'm Going to the Airlines-An Excerpt from Commitment-a Novel

CHAPTER 5

 

Commitment-A Novel

     “This is probably one of the toughest landing areas you will eventually take over from me,” said Steve.
     “Who lives here?” asked John. Their landing earned only a few glimpses and a wave from the villagers up the hill. John wasn’t sure, but he thought the half-naked males wore gourds to cover themselves.
     “A branch of the Yali tribe. They inhabit most of the Balium Valley. We won’t stay though. The missionary that served here had to leave for personal reasons. I don’t know when he will be replaced.”
     “Daryl told me that a lot of people end up leaving,” said John. He watched as Steve took the controls and pointed the plane downhill.
    “Try taking off this way,” said Steve. “We do have some leaving. The Lawrences were as dedicated as any, but he had to take care of his family. There are a lot of hardships to being a missionary, but it’s tougher when your children don’t adjust,” said Steve.
     John could feel his stomach drop as the plane lurched skyward.        
      “Dedication to job verses dedication to the family,” he said.
      “It’s going to be just as tough for you,” said Steve. “You’ll get homesick and lonely. Dedication takes on many forms and has many obstacles. I’m sure you are feeling some pangs.”
     “Yeah, I guess I am. I’m not sure I will make it as long as most pilots do,” said John.
     “Oh, in what way?” asked Steve.
     John suddenly felt nervous. “I mean, I have no problem being here but I see myself flying airliners. That’s my future,” said John uncomfortably.
     Steve seemed unfazed.
     “You don’t see that as a problem?” asked John.
     “Somewhat, but I think the Lord has you here for some reason. We’ll just have to work with you while we have you,” said Steve.

Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.