142nd Fighter Wing Base Tour- How Awesome It Was!

When I think Summer 2013, I think, "Wow, what a great box of suck." Aviation wise, my Summer had been a bust and was winding down fast. Hectic work schedule. Hackers attacking the site. Military sequester. And that stupid cat. I hate cats. I just do.
So about a month ago I e-mailed the 142nd Fighter Wing's Facebook rep in desperation. Was there any way I could get on base and visit/watch/ANYTHING? Maybe a bored, sequestered fighter pilot looking for something to do? Well, my break down was in good time- the 142nd PAO let me know that the next week was an Open Base tour and I was invited. I put my name on the list, as well as those names of my family, and we were set.
What was I expecting? Would these End-of-Summer Blues o' Mine be quenched, or did another disappointment lay ahead? I set my hopes low:
I expected and hoped to see 2-4 F-15s take off.
I expected to get a cool briefing from 1 or 2 airmen and pilots. Possibly grumpy ones. It's happened.
I hoped I'd find someone not busy enough to stop and take a peek at my 3-D F-15 work (on my Samsung) and get my ears scratched a little.
I was not disappointed.
When we arrived, there were 3 other groups: Miss Oregon and her entourage, and 2 CAP trainee groups. A Lieutenant began telling pilot jokes to warm us up. Then we were lead out back behind the main building...
...where we saw EIGHT F-15s warming up, and FOUR F-16Cs from Luke AFB (well, three -Cs and a single -D) all sittin' pretty. Then the Vipers all began saddling up. It was awesome- all those big engine cans were pointing at us and gradually the roar got louder and louder and the wind harder and harder as more and more of the jets fired up their engines. Then they taxied to the runway. And then, one-by-one, they launched. Words do not describe...
And there was some kid lying down on the tarmac. Asleep. I have photos.
And then the tour began. We went into a hangar and an airman gave us a tour of the F-15. I'd seen some old-style, flat-back gas bags in a corner of the base as we came in (the F-15 force now only flies with pointy-back gas bags). I asked him about them, and he kinda blew me off. I asked a few other Qs, and he kept blowing me off. "Hey man, I'm Fritz of IamFritz.com," I wanted to say. But I'm not there, yet. But his part of the tour finally finished and then the engine guys took us on.
They were awesome. When I asked them questions, she was like, "Oh, you read an article about the inferior thrust performance of the P&W F-100-220s to the vanilla P&W F-100s of 1972?" and told me it was bunk, that the new engines not only had about a ton more thrust each, but were digitally controlled so they worked the power curves better which increased performance across the maneuvering envelope. The conversation then turned to a story a Pittsburgh reservist once told me about a marshaller getting sucked into the engine of an A-7 back in the day, and she debunked that pretty quickly (in part, not the entire story). Another guy joined in and the fun meter again was pegged to the right for a while.
I finally got hauled away to look in the cockpit but that guy's first words were, "No pictures." And as I attempted to engage him in lively banter, he subconsciously let me know he didn't like me, or the way I was dressed, or being there at the moment. I asked him questions about the cockpit and he pulled a lot of "That's classified"'s out of somewhere, and my fun meter died. I mean, I've sat in that very same cockpit (same type, same base, same squadron, different tail number) but a pilot was there instead of an airman, and he talked and talked and talked (Guard F-15 pilots are different from active duty F-15 pilots. Guard pilots will offer to take you home, feed you, and then sleep on the couch so you get their bed, they're that ridiculously hospitable. I love `em. But I digress). So, I moved on.
The weapon loaders were next. Fun meter, hello. These guys were reluctant to answer my questions (`cuz I kept asking about stuff I suspected was classified, but went ahead and asked anyway) but still were eager to please. They had some practice AIM-9s, -120s, and some fake PGU-28s for the kiddies to handle. THAT made their day.
Then came the briefing. They walked us back into the main building and sat us all down in their main briefing room. Kick me in the teeth, I totally missed the guy's name and rank, but he was fun.
The pilot gave us a fun, sing-songy overview of an F-15 pilot's repertoire- flight suit, G-pants, HGU-55, JHMCS (which he explained is actually pronounced "Juh-himmix" as close as anyone could get I guess) and NVGs. A few intelligent questions were sounded (no, "Have you ever killed anyone" junk). A couple questions about how they would handle another hijacked air liner. Thanks for that, buddy, I'm sure they see that one as the high point of any civilian puke Q&A.
Someone then asked the pilot about his career and what other planes he'd flown. The good pilot then explained that he's trained at Tyndall for his initial F-15 course, then went to Alaska and flew F-22s for a while. Then he requested reassignment to an F-15 squadron. When his transfer was granted, he was sent to Klamath Falls for his F-15 refresher course. Then he was shipped up here to the 142nd. He said he really liked flying F-15s. When asked why he chose the F-15 over the F-22, he was professional and didn't say a thing about the ongoing issues with the Raptor. He said the Eagle was his first love and a man always wants to go back to his first love. More cool questions were asked, and these cool handouts were handed out about the whole 142nd Wing's Squadrons and components. Afterward I showed him some of my art and he expressed his appreciation and then the line moved on for others to ask him questions as well.
Anyway, on the way out, I saw a big, tall pilot with a bird on his flight suit and saw his name, a name I've heard many times and remembered: Beniewicz. Colonel Mike Beniewicz. "B-9".
Now, Colonel Beniewicz is a bit of a legend. Everyone I've talked from the base seems to have a personal "Grand-dad" like story about him. The man is kind, professional, and in all ways breaks the mold of a professional killer. And when I talked to him I saw why everyone felt that way. His legend preceded him, and he stepped right up.
Anyway, I showed him some of my work and he liked it, and then I asked him about a few stories 've heard over the years, and he just opened up to me and answered my questions. The big guy even gave me his card and told me how to get a hold of him.

I swooned a bit on the way out. I admit. Then the F-15s came back from their exercise. I ran back into the building and watched. Snapped a few photos. Then one of the F-15/Redhawk pilots came walking in. He had this big smirk on his face. I fell in awe. He was another Colonel, and I was dying to ask him how it went, how it went down, etc. Instead, all I could muster was, "So, did you guys have fun?" He barely paused to look at me, smiled even harder, and said, "Ohhhh, yeah." 

I'm still getting over that one.

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