Author's Note: It is Memorial Day weekend in the United States, the holiday dedicated to remembering those who have gone before. The bones of this story were laid down before, actually before I started writing Warplane, but the fact I had some time off this holiday encouraged me to finish it up so it could be posted.
Salute
"How could this have happened?" Cabbie swallowed his tears.
"It was a freak accident…" Hope, the only female of the last four flying C-119's voice crackled across the radio. "There was literally nothing that could have been done, but the time anyone could react he was already gone."
"But he was grounded. He was supposed to be safe!" And the next funeral was supposed to be for him. Cabbie was the one who flew into danger every other day. He wasn't supposed to morn anyone else. Now the news made him feel like was being torn apart piece by piece. Like shrapnel was shredding his engines.
"Are you going to be able to make it up here?" Hope asked softly. "You know, to say goodbye?"
"I don't know. We are in the middle of training and we are about to start fire season down here so they might not let us go…" Cabbie tried to make excuses, but in reality he didn't know if he had to strength to face the facts.
"Talk to your boss. I will make some phone calls. Between the two of us we will figure something out."
"When there's a will, there's a way." Cabbie muttered the mantra of the C-119.
"When there's a will, there's a way." Hope echoed his words. "Be safe Cabbie. I hope to see you in person soon."
Cabbie didn't know how long he sat starring at the radio after Hope had signed off. He didn't hear the call of fire and apparently ignored a direct order from Blade to get his wheels off the ground. Maru finally was sent over to see what in the Chrysler was going on, Cabbie didn't see the mechanic there until he gave him a sharp rap on the landing gear to get his attention.
The cargo plane came to the present, find seven sets of eyes staring at him with concern. He tried to shake them. He tried to convince the mechanic that he was okay. He told the smokejumpers and Patch that everything was alright, but to bottom of the old cargo planes heart he knew that there was a piece of the universe that would never be okay again. Bus was dead, and there was nothing in the world that Cabbie could do about it.
Cabbie went through the motions, his body on autopilot and his brain reliving the past. Finally when it became clear that the C-119 was currently more of an obstacle than an asset, Blade had sent Cabbie back to base to sulk in his hanger. Only once he was enclosed in the safety of his hanger, and he was secure in the knowledge prying eyes were off base, did the old warplane let himself cry for everything that was lost.
He didn't know how long he sat their staring at the wall. The sun had set a while ago, but the base was too quiet for his personal comfort. Exhausted he rolled out onto the tarmac to investigate only to find that the only building that was lit up was the main hanger. With a sigh, he rolled across the apron to find out what the rest of the base's residents were up to.
"I think we are going to have to send him."
The voices on the inside of the hanger were muffled, but Cabbie knew exactly who they were talking about. Taking a deep breath he tried to steal himself to take the problem head on. After all, while it was okay for his fellow firefighters to acknowledge his loss, the C-119 wasn't going to accept any pity.
"Maybe we could send…" Blade started, but didn't get the chance finish before Cabbie nosed the hanger door open.
"Cabbie!" Patch yelped, upsetting her coffee.
The cargo plane allowed his eyes to scan the gathered crowd…which included everyone resident of Piston Peak Air Attack Base, some of the parks most senior park rangers, and even a couple of people from HR. Cabbie sighed, because at this moment being resigned to his situation seemed a whole lot more healthy then becoming angry and frustrated about it. Clearing his throat he spoke.
"I know that this is not the best time for me to take leave…I also know that under current National Park Service funeral leave policy this situation does not qualify, and even if it did it is going to take me at least ten days to attend the funeral and make the round trip from Alaska." Cabbie didn't meet anyone's eyes. "But I would also like to point out that as far as government service goes, I give Ol'Jammer a run for seniority. Even with me taking a week or two of vacation most Falls, I have hundreds of hours of vacation time saved up and I…" The warplane's voice broke. "I need the chance to say goodbye. Bus was my wingman and for C-119's that means more than being related by birth…"
Cabbies voice trailed off and silence filled the hanger as everyone tried to determine how they respond to the speech. It was finally Blade that broke the quiet. "While it would be useful to have you during training, as long as we can locate a nearby cargo plane to provide mission support during an emergency, I am comfortable with authorizing the leave. "
"Would it be helpful if we sent someone north with you? You know to keep you company and all?" Maru asked, and Cabbie knew exactly what they mechanic was referring to.
The plane snorted. "I have no intention of going sub hunting or finding a solid core cloud." Cabbie practically spat, but then instantly regretted it when the mechanic gave him a haunted look. Softening his tone Cabbie continued. "This is a situation where it makes sense for me to travel north fast and light. Besides, I know that I will be coming south with precious cargo. C-119's have always been a practical sort. We hate to see good parts sit on the ground when they could be flying."
"Bring back whatever you would like." Maru patted Cabbie's nose and the plane knew he had been forgiven for his outburst. "I will make sure that anything that needs to be patched is better than new."
Finding a back up cargo plane proved to be a simple task. Cabbie had been a part of the community long enough that many of the neighboring municipalities owed him a couple of favors. Everything was in place within 24 hours and C-119 was heading north within 48. Cabbie decided to push his limits flying up the coast, only taking stops to grab some fuel or take a quick nap.
As made his final approach into Buddy Woods Municipal Airport in Palmer, Alaska, Cabbie regretted pushing himself so hard. The temperature was still chilly and the gravel runway was a slick mess of ice and mud. Cabbie couldn't help but shiver as the mud that his tires kicked up clung to his under belly. He was hungry, cold, tired, and really just really just wanted to see a friendly face. Luckily he was not disappointed, parked on the apron was a silver plane sporting a familiar pair of tails.
"Cabbie!" Hope greeted him warmly as he rolled to a stop. "It is very good to see you."
"It is very good to see you." Cabbie glanced around, surprised that his fellow squadron mate wasn't here to meet him. "Where is Truck?"
"He headed north a couple of days ago to go make sure that everything was sorted out." Hope said quietly, seeming to sense Cabbie's bad mood. But she put on a bright smile and wiggled her flaps. "Well, I don't know why we are still sitting out here on the tarmac. Let's get you inside and thawed out."
The tired plane didn't need to be told twice. Cabbie eagerly followed Hope into warm hanger that she and Truck called home.
The next morning brought another day of hard flying over difficult terrain, but with Hope flying point Cabbie didn't find it nearly as exhausting. As they came in for a landing at the airport, they were greeted by several of the Bethel's most distinguished citizens and within moments it became clear that in the bush towns mind Cabbie was the chief mourner in this particular funeral.
After the first series of condolences were made Cabbie and Hope were ushered towards the largest hanger in town. Rolling in to the building, the old warplane could not ignore the smell of death that surrounded them. Even though the town's mechanics had done their best to clean up the charred wreckage that was laid out before them, they couldn't completely cleanse the room of the smell of burnt tires and melted wires.
The fire that had consumed Bus's mortal frame had burned hot and fast. While it had most likely been a painful way die, it was a far more fitting way for an old veteran to slip to the eternal skies than to slowly rust away in a government boneyard. Bus had brought fire and death to so many of their nation's enemies. It was only fitting that fire would bring him peace in the end.
It was not until he felt Hope's wing gentle bump his did Cabbie realize that he was freely weeping.
The following 72 hours was a whirlwind. As chief mourner, Cabbie was there to witness Bus's breaking and helped with the sorting of parts. Most critical components were burned beyond repair, but there were still a few pieces that might help the C-119's stay flying for just a little bit longer.
The old cargo plane was exhausted when four C-130s arrived from closest military airfield…an honor guard there to pay Bus the respect due to a fallen warplane. Cabbie was comforted that Bus hadn't been forgotten by the air force, even though he had never served as long or risen as high in the ranks as Cabbie.
"Sir." One of the C-130's, a Captain snapped to a salute in front of Cabbie. "We have been speaking with your fellow C-119 and given your relationship with to the departed, we would like to offer you the option of flying in the missing man formation."
"Of course." Cabbie replied, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. "Who will be flying the missing man position?"
"I think I speak for all of us when I say there is no other plane that would be better suited to fly that position then you Colonel." Truck motioned to the C-130s around him. "There is not one plane here that would dare to take the right of a wingman away from you."
"Thank you." Cabbie managed to say before his emotions made it difficult to speak.
As tradition stated, they took off a half hour before sunset. They made sure that they were out of sight of the community before forming south of Bethel. As planned Truck took the lead position and set the speed. Cabbie positioned himself as the leader of the second element, directly on Truck's right. Once the group locked in they started to fly north towards town. At the low altitude, they were flying it was easy to see that the entire community was outlining the airstrip to say goodbye to an important member of their community.
"Okay, boys. Let's go say goodbye in proper military fashion." Truck's gravelly voice broke over the radio, bringing Cabbie's thoughts into sharp focus. It seemed to have a similar effect on the other planes who tightened up their formation.
"Slow." All six aircraft slowed down in unison. As they did they tightened into a perfect V-formation.
"Smoke down." At the lead plane's order, all of the planes activated their smoke machines, allowing them to paint white trails across the sky.
"Cab slow down." Cabbie took a deep breath when Truck gave the instruction, then slowed allowing the rest of the formation to leave him slightly behind. Giving the C-119 enough space to do the maneuver he knew was coming next.
"Cab break."
With a burst of speed, the old warplane pushed his engines to full throttle and turned nose towards the sky, as the other five planes continued to fly in their precise formation. Cabbie sped upward towards the evening clouds for a few moments before making a sharp turn to the west and flying into the gold of the setting sun.
"Blue skies my friend." Cabbie whispered to the horizon, before making a wide turn back to the airport. "And Bus, I know I the last one in our flight getting there and I still have missions to do down here so it may take a while for me to join you guys, but please don't forget to save me a space in the formation."
Aviation Note: The missing man formation is a special kind of aircraft salute that is sometimes done in honor of a pilot, military officer, or public servant. It is believed that the first missing man formation was flown to honor the Red Baron, though that might be a myth. What we do know is that the missing man formation became an important honor in the US during WWII and spread to other air forces around the world. Most missing man formations are completed using four aircraft, with the second element lead plane pulling out. Though the missing man formation has been flown with as many of 50 aircraft. Traditionally the formation is flown from South to North, with the plane representing the missing man pulling out and flying into the sunset. If you witness a missing man formation in progress it is traditional to remove your hat unless you are currently in military or other public service uniform.