• Visitors can check out the Forum FAQ by clicking this link. You have to register before you can post: click the REGISTER link above to proceed. To start viewing messages, select the forum that you want to visit from the selection below. View our Forum Privacy Policy.
  • Want to receive the latest contracting news and advice straight to your inbox? Sign up to the ContractorUK newsletter here. Every sign up will also be entered into a draw to WIN £100 Amazon vouchers!

Unbelievable !!! Plane lands at airbase by mistake

Collapse
X
  •  
  • Filter
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts

    Unbelievable !!! Plane lands at airbase by mistake

    Full Story here

    "The pilot apologised and said, 'We may have arrived at the wrong airport'. "Everyone started laughing and thought it was a joke, then I saw for myself when I looked out and saw Army officers everywhere.
    Captain : "Ladies and Gentlemen, we will shortly begin our descent for the City of Derry Airport. Please ensure your stowaway tables are in the upright position and your seatbelts are securely fastened”

    Captain continues private discussion with 1st Mate: “So, as I was saying, I reckon Collen’s jugs are about a good hand’s size bigger than Siobhan’s”

    1st Mate : “Really ? You think so ? I reckon Colleen wears one of them sports bras, that pushes everything out, you know ?”

    Captain : “Maybe. We’ll see later tonight when we land and check in to the hotel. I’ve ordered Bollinger for the Jacuzzi, naturally.”

    1st Mate : “Naturally. Oh…where was it we were landing by the way ?”

    Captain : “City of Derry. It’s on the flight plan printout.”

    1st Mate : “Ah…slight problem with that, Sir.”

    Captain : “What’s up Fergus ?”

    1st Mate : “Well, when Siobhan came in and brought us coffee 30 mins ago, I was just finishing the article on Stewardesses in the Playboy you lent me. I had to hide it quick as she came in, so I jumped up and threw it in the overhead locker, but managed to spill my G&T all over the map.”

    Captain : “Ah, I wondered what all the fuss was back there.”

    1st Mate : “So anyway, the map was all soggy. And since they’ve been giving us these new maps printed on wafer-thin toilet paper, in order to save money, the damn thing fell to bits.”

    Captain : “Oh well. Never mind. We’ll have to do it from memory then. Can’t be too hard to find an airport round here. Usually have big landy things visible from 10,000 feet in most directions. Ok….which way…left or right ?”

    1st Mate : “Er Sir, there’s another problem….I’ve not done this route before.”

    Captain : “Good grief..call yourself a navigator ? Funny thing is…neither have I !”

    <They both chuckle>

    Captain : “Ok. No problem. I’ll radio Derry and get the approach vector. What’s the FQ (frequency)

    1st Mate : “Er…that was on the Flight Path map as well. Hang on…let me see if I can put the pieces together, at least for the Flight Path Information panel at the bottom. It’s less soggy there.”

    Captain : “Ok”

    1st Mate fiddles with the soggy bits of paper : “OK, here we go, looks like a 5, then a 1, followed by a 7….hang on…could be a 1…then a 4. OK….5174”

    Captain sets the comms unit to Frequency 5174 : “This is Zulu Foxtrot X-Ray 12, inbound from Liverpool. Do you read, over ?”

    The signal bounces through the ether, and reaches a tired and weary Indian Air Traffic Controller (ATC) at Ballykelly Army Airbase.

    ATC : “Roger, Zulu Foxtrot X-Ray 12. You is speaking loud and clear. I am Bravo Kilo 3. I am seeing you now on lovely radar. But you not being right type of military aircraft for this place. What is being your problem ? Over ?”

    Captain to 1st Mate : “Bejesus. They’ve f*****g outsourced the ATC to the bl00dy Indians in Mumbo-Jumbo land. Jeez. This guy can’t even tell what sort of plane we are. He thinks we are a military jet.”

    1st Mate : “For the love of the Virgin Mary. Just ask him for the incoming Vector, and tell him the “Strange Pilots in the Cockpit will do the rest”.

    Captain : “ Hello there, Bravo Kilo 3. Look my friend. We know what sort of plane we are flying. Only been doing it for 30 ruddy years. Just give us an incoming vector for the IRLS system and the strange pilots in the cockpit will do the rest. Over.”

    ATC cogitates over the Captain’s announcement, particularly the expression “Strange Pilots in the Cockpit”. He makes a quick call to his Supervisor and excitedly mentions that a civilian aircraft is requesting permission to land and that the Captain mentioned there were “Strange Pilots in the Cockpit”.

    Within minutes, alarm bells start ringing in the base. The Base Commander orders an “engagement team” to be ready on standby for the “hijack situation” that is now rapidly unfolding. Big men, with big guns, and even bigger German Shepherds, stop whatever big men with big guns and even bigger German Shepherds do, and start moving in to pre-planned intercept positions. They are professionals and have done this 100 times before within the last 12 months. Sadly, the same cannot be said for the dogs, which were purchased job-lot from an Animal Shelter in Wiltshire 2 months ago. They were sold as Forces-Ready working dogs, but it soon became evident that the collective IQ of all 12 hounds was somewhat less than that of a Belgian Waffle. As a result, most of the men swear and curse as their loyal but completely confused canine companions trip them to the ground amid the ensuing chaos.

    Thus poised, on a knife-edge, the Army base awaits the arrival of the most exciting thing to happen in the last 5 years since the IRA decided to throw in the towel of sectarian murder and mayhem, and resort to the more sedentary activities of drug-dealing and arms-running.

    The Base Commander takes a final look at the picture hanging over his head. The woman’s eyes casting her authority and power to her servants below. Her head is held in a regal, yet coquettish pose, her arms are squarely placed on her hips. The black leather basque adds a certain air of dominatrix to the picture, and further adds to her authority.
    The picture is signed “Nice One Lads, Keep the Argies on their toes. Keep it up (for me) xxx….Sam Fox.”

    As the Commander leaves his office, he pays a final tribute to his prized picture. “This one’s for you, Ma’am”, he mutters softly, then closes the door.

    Meanwhile….20,000 feet up in the air, Passenger 57, the real terrorist, starts to put his plan in to action. He’s waited months for this moment. Every detail has been checked, then checked again. He knows the exact route the plane will take. He has spent hours pouring over Ordinance Survey Maps and Google Earth of the flight path, and can tell the exact topology that should be under the plane at any moment to within a single metre.
    Every mile closer to the target is a mile closer to the execution of the operation. Too early, and it will have been in vain; premature. Too late, and the impact will be lessened ; rendered impotent.

    He must sit and wait.

    Captain to 1st Mate : “Ah, there we are. Right on vector. And I can confirm visual now. Looks like quite a big runway.”

    1st Mate : “Indeed it does, Sir. Must be used quite a lot for trainee pilots making their first landings, I guess.”

    Captain : “That’s strange. All the buildings and main terminal seem to be painted in various shades of green. Like camouflage.”

    1st Mate : “I suspect that’s either due to the local council wanting something that would “inconspicuously fit in” with the “natural environment” or it’s some new idea the yanks dreamed up…..hide the airports so the terrorists can’t find them, Sir”

    Captain : “Ah I see. Very clever. Right, landing gear down, we’re going in. Don’t think I’ll bother with the airbrakes. I’ll let her come to a stop at the far end of the runway then slowly taxi back to the terminal.”

    1st Mate : “Any reason in particular, Sir ?”

    Captain : “Not not really, except I’m feeling like a bit of a barsteward today and it pi55es the passengers off, because they think that as soon as we land, they can jump up and start evacuating the plane like mindless lemmings.”

    1st Mate : “Ah, the good old welcome to Ireland routine eh, Sir ?”

    Captain : “Indeed.”

    As the plane comes innocently in to it’s final approach and starts to glide along the runway, the 1st Mate notices something out of the window.

    Back in the cabin, Passenger 57 is poised, holding his breath. Almost there…almost…

    1st Mate : “Sir…er…what exactly are all those big men, with big machine guns and even bigger German Shepherds laying down alongside the runway doing ?”

    Captain : “I have no idea. Probably on exercise or something.”

    1st Mate : “On exercise ? In a civilian airport, Sir ? Something’s not right…”

    Captain : “Look Number 2, give us a hand with the controls will you and stop gawking out the window ? Mechanics never did fix the nose-lift problem like they were supposed to. Did you see that documentary on the BBC the other week about Ryanair cutting costs on maintenance? Frightening stuff. I’ve been saying for weeks that it needs fixing. Number one ? Look, they’re probably plane-proofing the dogs or something…”

    1st Mate : “Plane-proofing Sir ?”

    Captain : “Yes….like they do with horses on roads, except with dogs and aeroplanes, I dunno”

    1st Mate : “But why would they want to do that Sir ?”

    Captain : “To make the dogs used to aircraft I guess. Look, I’m not a bleeding animal psychiatrist, I’m a flipping pilot. Now be a good chap and help me land this damn thing.”

    1st Mate : “Sorry Sir. Just wondering. Ok…that’s it..almost there…cor, this is a lovely runway isn’t it Sir, so big and wide, makes our job a doddle….few more feet…..

    <<<TOUCHDOWN>>>

    He jumps up out of his seat. The moment is right here, right now.

    “I wanna go home. I don’t want to see Granny Eileen. She smells of dead people. And she’s deaf and wee-wee’s herself. You’re not my real mum. She’s nice to me. Daddy hates you and so do I…waaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrghhhhhh”

    And as one set of problems is about to unfold, so another set unravels itself as well, as the 7 year old precocious child called “Justin” in seat 57 welcomes his father and step-mother to their holiday from hell, at the airport from hell.

    Captain : “Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the City of Derry Airport. I hope your stay goes off with a bang”

    At which point the thunderflashes detonate on cue in the passenger cabin as the counter-terrorist boarding party storm the aircraft.
    Last edited by Board Game Geek; 30 March 2006, 00:45.
    Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.

    C.S. Lewis

    #2
    Very funny thanks for that
    Just trying to get by!

    Comment


      #3
      Very good!
      Insanity: repeating the same actions, but expecting different results.
      threadeds website, and here's my blog.

      Comment


        #4
        Ryanair : fly at your peril !

        Typical Ryanair farce! Didn't you see the Channel 4 documentary ? Surprised that apart from backpackers, any normal people should fly with them ! Most airports they fly to are former air bases anyway (Frankfurt/Haan, Dusseldorf, etc). They even fly to Vienna through Bratislava which happens to be not just in another city, but in another country ! BTW, it's Londonderry, not Derry City which is part of Ulster and not Ireland.

        Comment

        Working...
        X