flight line, the reconfigurations are still going on,” Hunter said, confirming the general’s observation. “We’ve got nine airplanes close to ready, the rest are in various states of completion.”
The next C-5 was still in the process of being converted into a flying hospital, complete with operating rooms; another was being transformed into an aerial machine shop/maintenance service plane.
“The gear in there and the boys who’ll run it can repair just about anything,” Hunter explained.
Their walking tour continued. The next three transports belonged to the 1st American Airborne, led by Captain Lamont “Catfish” Johnson, a towering black man who formerly played defensive end for the San Diego Chargers of the old NFL and was now commander of this airborne outfit. More than fifteen hundred soldiers of this airborne corps were feverishly working at hundreds of long wooden tables, folding parachutes and cleaning weapons, while over a dozen quartermasters inventoried and oversaw the storing of the tons of materials needed to support that many men. Inside the planes, crews were diligently installing an interior deck that would add a second level to accommodate the paratroopers.
The next three Galaxys, painted in sea-gray camouflage, looked dull by comparison. And there was nothing remarkable going on inside their great hulls.
But the work going underneath those C-5s was what Hunter wanted to show General Jones.
They walked up closer to one of them where a very unusual operation was taking place.
“What the hell is this?” Jones asked.
Two Alpha Jets were being painstakingly attached to the airplane’s underbelly by a ground crew.
The Alpha Jet-E was a small but powerful trainer. It had a maximum speed of 620 mph, and a range of 273 miles. When configured as a fighter, it boasted one 30 mm cannon and could carry Sidewinders. It was the perfect plane for a very unusual mission.
Hunter knew that the long range force being assembled here could not afford the luxury of air cover. So learning from history, he took the idea from the time back in the 1920s, when bi-planes were attached to the underbelly of U.S. Navy blimps. Blimps could stay up almost forever, and their operating range was far greater than any fighter plane built at that time. But in wartime they were vulnerable to attack from enemy aircraft. By bringing their own fighters along, they wouldn’t compromise their long-range capability, and at the same time still benefit from a fighter’s assistance when necessary—just as this modern great air fleet would now.
The Alpha’s crew consisted of two pilots. But instead of having to have to sit the entire downtime in their cockpit, as the pilots under the blimps had to do, the Edwards’ mechanics had come up with an ingenious design. Two flexible, accordionlike loading shoots, attached to the underbelly of the C-5, stretched down to cover the open cockpits of the both Alpha. When the time came, the pilots of the Alphas would simply climb down the flexible internal ladders, close their canopy, and then release the accordion shoots by the gravity switch inside their cockpit. The shoots would then retract back up against the belly of the transport. Then explosive bolts would be set off, breaking the Alphas free of the struts and its mother ship. Docking was a little more tricky. After a system of hooks and clamps were deployed from the belly of the transport, the Alpha would fly under the C-5 and match its cruising speed. Then, much as in the procedure for in-flight refueling, the Alpha would nuzzle into this set of braces and secure itself. After a quick lockup procedure, the accordion shoot would be lowered for the pilots to climb back up into the hold.
Hunter then brought the general past five more Galaxys in various stages of readiness. Three of these C-5s were being converted into aerial refueling planes, each capable of holding almost 26,500 gallons of jet fuel. The other two were being