Forced Landing

“Tiom, this is Tarampura, do you read me?” C’mon, Jason, pick up! Pick up! Images of an overgrown runway, hostile tribes, and deteriorating weather conditions horrified Marta. Her chest tightened involuntarily, making her call difficult.

“Last calling station. This is Tiom, over.” It was Rachel.

“This is Tarampura, I have some important news and I have to get through to Jason, over,” said Marta.

The heavy rainfall severely weakened the signal, frustrating Marta. She caught a few words between surges of static.

“Is that you, Marta? What’s the matter? Over,” Rachel asked.

“Steve is being forced to land because of the weather, over” Marta said, trying to stay in control. She knew it would be too much for Rachel.

“What is their current location? Over,” asked Rachel.

“Listen, everything is going to be okay.” Rachel’s trying to keep the transmission short. She’s having trouble hearing too. 

“They are going to land in Wampe.”

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

Emergency Landing

     “Though there is a strip nearby, this is definitely not the place to land. A few years ago, the Yali invaded a former village and chased all the inhabitants out. The missionaries barely escaped. For a while, a few neighboring villages had their missionaries pulled back to Tiom,” said Steve.

     “That sounds pretty hairy. Have any missionaries been killed by natives?” John asked.

     “Our policy is to not go into an area or village if not invited. God has opened a lot of doors, but there is still resistance. The missionaries in that village over the ridge were killed by head hunters, and we were never able to get back in. Our airstrip is still there, and the locals are pretty friendly, but the neighboring village is still reluctant to accept outsiders. Also, one of the villages you’ll be serving has a missionary there named Marta Springer. A few years ago, after she and her husband Raymond arrived, they were able to establish a great relationship with the village. They built a church, held Sunday school, as well as an academic school for teaching English and the basics of the three R’s. About two years after their arrival, Raymond was killed by the Asmat, a tribe of headhunters.”

     “Did they ever recover...you know... his…” John dreaded the answer.

     “Oh yeah, they all walked away after the confrontation. But Raymond bled to death on the way back to Tarampurah.”

     “That’s terrible. He could’ve lived with the right first aid, it sounds like,” John said.

     “Yeah, but there were no helicopters out here,” Steve said, concentrating on the decaying weather.

     “I know that story. A lot of our boys could’ve survived in Vietnam if they hadn’t bled to death waiting for evacuation.”

     They continued with the clouds graduating ever lower. Sheets of rain forced them to turn toward the south attempting to find better weather. However, maneuvering between mountains proved too dangerous.

     “Remember that airstrip I was telling you about?” Steve asked.

     “Yeah, the abandoned one?”

     “I don’t think it’s all that desperate, but help me look. The visibility is too bad and I’m afraid we’re going to have to set her down. I’d rather take my chances with an enemy I can see, than a mountain I can’t,” said Steve.

     “You’re the boss,” John said, nervously searching for anything resembling a runway.

     “Maybe the rain will cover our landing.” Steve put in a call to Tiom. But he realized they were too low to be picked up. He’d given up trying to reach them when the radio suddenly came to life.

     “N7724V, this is Tarampura, over,” Marta Springer said.

     “We have a problem. Can you relay to Tiom and tell Jason that we have to set down because of the weather. Our present location is over the abandoned airfield at Wampe. We’re going to try hold out until the rain lets up, over.”

     “Steve, be careful ...I can’t handle another tragedy, over.”

     “Don’t worry, Tarampua. I’ve got that new pilot with me, and we’ll be very careful. You might say a prayer for us anyway; it’s awful messy up here, over,” Steve said.

     “Please be careful and promise to let me know when you get home safely, over.”

     “Will do, out.” That was enough chatting. Steve had a plane to fly.

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

No Safe Place to Land

     “No, he wasn’t. At that time, pilots were flying down the center to avoid being too close to a mountain; however, the rules have since changed. Anyway, what I am about to say to you must stay between us. It was given to me in good faith, but I feel you should know. Deal?”

     “It won’t leave this plane,” John pledged.

     “The pilot attempted the turn and almost made it, but the right wing clipped the trees, dragging the plane to the ground. There was only one survivor, and he was found a few days later still at the site. The pilot and Mr. and Ms. Heatherly died. Their son, Jason was the only survivor.”

     “Who would have ever known?” John said pitifully.

     “It’s not something you share. This was very traumatic. You may even hear it in detail. But please don’t mention it until he does,” Steve said again.

     “It amazes me. How can he even return to the area where his family was killed? Better yet, operate with the same organization that got his family killed?”

     “It was an unfortunate accident and I’m sure Jason was bitter for a long time. But wounds heal, and the Lord works in all ways and in different situations,” said Steve.

     “He’s a better man than I,” John admitted.

     “Jason learned to forgive. Now he is a stronger person and is able to teach and help others.

     The one thing that could’ve shaken his faith only made him stronger.”

     John edged closer to the slope on his right. He thought he might be too close, but Steve hadn’t indicated so. John was unsettled by the story, but such tales were not rare. Many of his friends had been in aircraft accidents, and a few had even lived to fly again.

     The lowering clouds reminded Steve it was time to go home. He took control of the plane to hurry back. They were only 25 miles away, but that was far when visibility was less than two. Already the weather system had overtaken them to the north, with little hope of outrunning it.

     “It’s not looking too good up there is it?” John leaned forward to observe the boiling clouds.

     “No, it’s not. I hope it clears up or we may have to land and wait it out.”

     “I don’t see any place around here to land. I guess we’ll have to take our chances with the clouds,” said John.

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

Remember, Stay to the Right

     “Nice takeoff.” Steve observed.

     “Thanks for noticing. Just call it natural ability or maybe attribute it to the flight school I attended in the jungles of Vietnam,” John replied.

     At 1000 feet above the ground Steve directed a 90 degree turn to the north. Obediently, John steeped the plane gently to the right and flew toward the mountains. From that height they could appreciate the beautiful green countryside. South, they saw a sea of fog extending for miles. To the north, high clouds and clear skies below as the rain had yet to fall.          

     Ahead, mountains shrouded in a sheath of drizzle, vented steam as the rain cooled the warm ground.

     Below, the Baliem wound to the east and then south again as it carved its way through the valley. The river looked muddy in contrast with the lush greenery of the canopy above. Villages dotted the river every few miles, and larger cities such as Wamena had been claimed from the jungle.      

    The river was the life of the communities that thrived there, and the mighty Baliem offered food and water from its depths.

     The weather began to deteriorate as clouds lowered.      

     Realizing they might be headed for trouble, Steve recommended flying north on the other side of the valley.      

     Taking the controls, Steve brought them to mountaintop level. There, visibility was safe enough for low level flying through passages. Light tufts of fog wisped around the wings and left swirls in the plane’s wake.

     “Okay, I’ll demonstrate flying through these passages before these clouds get too low,” Steve yelled over the roaring engine. “Do you see the break in the mountains ahead? Fly to those, staying as far right as you can.”

     “I’m staying to the right, and I don’t mind telling you this is a little nerve racking.”

     “I’m with you, but this is the only way to some of the villages.” Steve knew John would have a hard time at first.      

     “Just remember to stay to the right. That way if you find you may have mistakenly flown the wrong passage, you will have ample room on the left side for maneuvering.”

     “Well, I can tell you that this barely leaves enough to turn. I’d hate to have to make a hasty U-turn or other emergency procedures,” said John.

     There was only a mile of flying space between mountain–plenty of room for turning a car around, but an airplane is another story. The perception of speed was great as they passed within twenty-five feet of the mountain to the right.      The trees and tree top houses were a blur along the mountain side.

     “About the U-turn you mentioned earlier,” Steve shouted. “About 18 years ago one of our own was flying a missionary family through a similar passage. They were headed south to do a revival near Agats. He was heading out of the Maoke Mountains, when he realized nothing looked familiar. He rationalized that he must have gone down the wrong valley.”

     “How come he didn’t climb out and get his bearings?” asked John.

     “Because of similar weather conditions. The pilot opted to continue the route. Visibility was horrible when suddenly a large object loomed before the plane. Instinctively, the pilot initiated a climbing turn hoping to fly back,” said Steve.

     “I guess since he was on one side of the valley, he made it okay,” John guessed.

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

Angle of Climb

“Let me help you. Who are we most likely not able to get along with? I mean, what kind of people really irk us?” asked Steve exercising his Masters Degree in Counseling.

“I don’t know. You mean attitudes or abrasive personalities?” John replied.

“Something like that,” said Steve. “What I am getting at is this. We sometimes dislike those who remind us of ourselves. You see, in our minds we recognize room in our spheres of influence for only one of us. So when a personality appears on someone else that is much like our own, or how we used to be, we don’t like it. We actually feel threatened.”

“Let me see if I can understand, Herr Freud. You are trying to tell me that because Jason and I are somewhat alike, we repel each other like water and oil,” said John.

“Precisely,” replied Steve in a horrible German accent.

Laughing, John felt better. He realized Steve had calmed him down without having to belittle Jason.

As John lifted the left aileron of the Cessna 182 a torrent of water greeted the back of his neck. Although a shock, he felt refreshed as the water ran down his spine and was absorbed into his shirt. He saw Steve hide an amused grin, then take a seat in the passenger side. John inspected the fuel reservoir for telltale signs of water and concluded his inspection before taking his place in the left side of the cockpit. He adjusted the instruments for the proper barometric pressure, horizontal level, and direction on the heading indicator before taxiing to the runway and setting the flaps to full.

“Tiom traffic, this is N7724V taking runway 10, departing to the South west,” John called to inform other pilots in the airspace. He looked 360 degrees, searching for traffic before applying full power. He waited to release the brakes until the RPM’s registered high on the tachometer. At the precise moment, he released the brakes and the powerful engine rolled the plane off the mark, and slowly accelerated toward the trees at the end of the runway. John lifted the nose until it was at the proper attitude to clear the jungle obstacle, and achieve the best angle of climb.

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

I Can't Get Him Off My Case; How Do You Handle It?

     Jason thought for a moment. “My better judgment says not to let you, but knowing your reputation, I can trust you not to get in over your head.”

     “You’re absolutely right. I’ll be in full control of the decisions, and if it’s too bad, I’ll return.” Steve was fully aware of Jason’s intentions.

     “I can vouch for his decision making,” John said. “But I have flown in worse than this. Besides, I thought the pilot made the final flying decision.”

     “Usually yes, but not on my watch,” said Jason.

     The quiet chatter common to crowded rooms suddenly hushed as the two men squared off.

     “I’m going to let you two go, but only for the experience. The rest of you, if you don’t have a real need to fly, consider postponing.”

     Steve and John left ahead of the others and John felt everyone’s eyes on him as they filed past. He didn’t doubt where their loyalties lay and he couldn’t blame them.

     Outside, the sun was a little higher but still shrouded by skirts of high level clouds. As the morning had started, the day continued with drizzle and patches of fog. The already jade foliage took on a luscious, green hue and the jungle steamed as a light mist engulfed it.

     John’s gait quickened and Steve strived hard to keep in step. John seemed oblivious to the sprinkle matting his hair and collecting on his bangs.

     “Slow down, I can’t keep up,” Steve called out.

     “You can’t keep up! I can’t believe the treatment we get around here. I haven’t seen so much baby-sitting since I was in the army.” John had to keep himself from shouting.

     “How do you do it? You two seem to get along just fine, you and I get along, I get along with the other guys, they get along with Jason, but I can’t seem to keep him off my case,” said John.

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

Make the Right Decisions

     “I guess by the looks on your faces you realize the weather forecast for today.” Jason broke the somber silence. The clouds were low, and light fog whisped on the mountains around the Beliem River like cobwebs.

     “Those of you flying the southern routes – Doug, Bryan, Steve, and John – consider staying home with your families. This is a good time to take the day off and catch up on whatever paperwork you might have,” Jason said as he traced a pointer along the wall map. “The rest of you have somewhat clear flying ahead but be prepared for the worst if the weather changes.”

    “Jason,” Steve said. “I think today would be great for getting John used to flying under conditions he will most likely face. He seems to grasp the fundamentals of flight related to the mountainous areas and is impressive flying under simulated fog conditions.”

     “I understand, but what are you suggesting? Not flying would actually be the proper realistic response to the weather condition,” said Jason.

     “No sir, just fly a little north of here and come south a little to see how he handles the light fog,” Steve explained. “I can point out terrain features to help him make the right decisions.”

I Got This, Don't Ride Me

     John left through the creaky screen door into the thick night air. He noticed that the air smelled musty, and the sky started clouding a little. Cooler air was coming in and surely the warming air would rise and present a foggy morning.             
      February through April was the time of year for rain. John nodded greetings to some of the other pilots as he made his way to the dorm. He saw someone in the darkness approach from the direction of John’s building.

     “I guess Steve has told you the good news,” said Jason’s tall silhouette.

     “Yes, he has. Thank you,” replied John.

     “You’re welcome. If you fly as well as you are determined too, that’s great. I let you fly because I trust you with the lives of locals, missionaries and possibly my family. I have to know I can put my life and those of others in your care.”

     “You’re all safe with me,” John said.

     “I hope so. There are people all over the world trusting me to make the right decisions with their family members. That means choosing carefully who will pilot them. If anything happens, I answer to these people. That means total concentration on the work at hand, nothing else. From the time your training begins, I want you to promise all your focus will be from flight to flight. If not, I will ground you. I can’t fire you, but I can make your life so miserable as to contemplate resignation. Do we have an agreement?” Jason asked.

     He thinks he has it all figured out, thought John. It rubbed him the wrong way. “I appreciate your concern, but don’t ride me. I do well at the yoke, and I come with more than a thousand hours of flying under dangerous conditions. This is nothing new.”

     Both men stood head to head in the dark, neither knowing what to do next. After a few moments, Jason spoke up. “Why don’t we just call it a night? Just remember what I told you. The responsibility for these people lies with you.”

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