Chinaman's

by: Capt Langford C. Metzger 1973

Did you ever have one of those days when everything went wrong, when you were somewhere; some one
either had it in for you or they were taking a coffee break instead of watching out for you?

As we were bouncing and dodging all over the sky, my combat log looked like a two year old had been at it,
which meant that it would take at least an additional hour on the ground to remember what happened, in
what order and put it on the log. in the meantime, I tried to keep count of the number of shells being fired
at us, and luckily they were in nice round numbers, but they were in three digits, which meant our luck
would probably be running out real soon.

I had no sooner said this when the front of the aircraft exploded in fire, smoke, and high wind. My first
reaction was to give the pilot our get-the-hell-out -of-here heading to the nearest friendly base, which
also happened to be our own.As I listened to the pilot call out the crew positions , about half were no
answers, and I hoped that it was only intercom problems. from the sound of the damage reports, we were
lucky to be in the air. We had only two engines, most of the systems were inoperable, and the co-pilot was
dead. the engineer took the co-pilot's position, and I handled all radio calls. as we approached the field, it
looked like a Christmas tree with all the lights blinking. As we passed over the approach lights, the final
two engines gave out. we were now a glider which could not glide and had no power for the few remaining
systems. the pilot hit the light and I gave the warning verbally.

As we were about to hit, the pilot killed everything, hit all the extinguishers on the aircraft the plane hit
with a thud that meant it would never fly again. It had gotten it's crew home......almost as though it had died
once it's final mission was in the bag. to this day I'm not sure what happened after that. I remember
flashing lights, people shouting and running around me, but no one seemed to be in a hurry to help me
off. I finally decided that I had best take care of myself, and with that, I gathered my classified material I had
signed for a got the hell out of there. I left everything else, but they would hunt you beyond the grave if
you lost any classified material you were assigned.

In the back, it seemed like everything that could be torn loose, was! It took me for ever to get to the ramp
and exit. when I did, at least I thought I'd get a ride. But all the vehicles were headed back to the hangers
and the crash crews paid no attention to the likes of me.

If there is something that really sets me on edge, this was one of them. I had just survived the crash
landing of a burning aircraft and was being made to walk back. Hell, even after a normal mission, the pilot
always took a head count before the crew bus left. I know one thing I was going to raise some "cane"
about this when I got back to the squadron. When I did get Back to Headquarters, I expected some
interest in my reports, but everyone ignored me An hour later when I finally completed my paperwork and
reports, I left to get a drink and unwind. It was then that I noticed blood on my flight suit, but since none of
it seemed to be fresh, I decided to get a drink or two, and then report to the hospital.

I stepped outside. I was suddenly very tied and decided to take the bus that had just pulled up. I got on
and it was empty, except for me. At least this would give me a chance to ride. As I rode, I noticed that the
bus was taking a very different route around parts of the base i had not been before. i asked the driver if
we were going to be at the Officers's Club soon, and I got a nod and a smile in return.

I was about ready to take a nap when the driver stopped and pointed across a field to a dim sign. he said
that was were I was going. I should have known better than to expect to get dropped at the front door.
from a distance I saw that it was called "The Chinaman's." I had never heard of it. I knew it was not on base
and wondered just where I was!

When I opened the door, I was ready to go out again. I know some guys look beat when they get back from
flying, and if they were stupid enough to fly with a hangover, then they may even look half dead. Bur
everyone of these guys looked like they had stepped out of a horror movie. They all had on flying gear in
various conditions, so I thought maybe it was just me. I went to the bar and ordered a nice double Jack
Daniels over ice-- same as always. The bartender looked at me in a strange sort of way-- like I crashed a
private party. I took my drink, took a slug, and turned to see if there was anyone I knew. At last I spotted a
face I had known a a previous base and I went over to talk with him. I asked him what he was doing and
how long he had been stationed here. he looked at me a little strangely and asked me where-- I told him
the name of the base. I asked where he had been flying out of, and his face went blank as though--
suddenly-- I was not there. As he left, I noticed that everyone else in the place was looking at me with the
same type of stare. i was really starting to get the cold chills when a good friend tapped me on the
shoulder.

"Leave! You don't belong here yet!"

i looked at him and he just pointed to the door. the _expression on his face said that if I didn't go now,
then I may never go. With that he went back to the group he had been with. I started for the door and as I
was going out --I turned around and saw my friend give my the high sign.

As soon as I shut the door, I felt like someone hit me with a blackjack. I was sure it was the end of a perfect
day if I was mugged, but it was not a set up. i staggered towards the road, hoping to catch a bus or maybe
someone would notice the blood and take me back to base. I kept staggering and remembering what they
told us about giving up: "give up and your dead!" I was determined not to be one of the dead ones. Will
and determination are one thing; the body is another. As I tried to climb out of a small ditch I went out like
a light!

I regained my faculties with a jump start which is a polite term for jumping straight out of bed. The first
thing I noticed was that everything was clean,white and bright. I expected to wake up in a muddy ditch with
who knows what in my mouth. I still had my doubts, when a nurse walked in and saw me in the process of
ripping everything loose that was stuck in me. I was still half dazed. i was not sure what was happening.
The nurse called for help and she quickly sedated me.

"What the hell are you trying to do?" she yelled, very unlady like.

I must have passed out because my only other recollection was being surrounded by half the squadron
including that nurse. I guess the question I was about to ask was written all over my face, because it was
answered before I could ask it.

It turns out that the aircraft was a total, flaming wreck when it hit the runway. The initial thought was that
everyone was killed on impact. The rescue choppers, however, saw movement in the cockpit after the
plane came to rest. that meant someone was alive and needed help. As it turned out I was truly a lucky
person. While I had been wounded by an uncountable number of flesh wounds(none fatal), accounted for
my passing out. The other stroke of luck was that the anti-aircraft fire had stitched my position to the
extent that the whole side of the aircraft at my position to the extent that the whole side of the aircraft at
my position would fall out. That's why it took the rescue personnel so long to find me. When the aircraft
crashed, I simply walked out a huge hole and started to do my regular flight duties. I got about 75 yards
and that was enough to throw everyone off.

This Web Site, and photos herein are copyrighted by Captain Langford Metzger's daughter, Lauren, and may NOT be
used in any way without express written permission.