Dark Alley Dan
CGN Ultra frequent flyer
- Location
- Darkest Edmonton
No offense taken, Bearhunter. You are, of course, correct. There's damn little room for sentimentalism in the military, aside from regimental history, the sanctity of the Standard, etc. While old aircraft are remarkably evocative things - the final scene in The Best Years of our Lives gets me every time - I recognize that operating a military is a question of using things until they can't be used, then going and getting another and using THAT one up, and on and on until either the war is over or the government cuts the budget.
The pic above shows aircraft that cost huge sacrifices of treasure to create being prepped to melt down into ingots, later to become the aluminium muffin tins that everyone has at least one of in their kitchen right now. The best use of worn out airframes, I guess, and very much a "swords into plowshares" deal, but still, when one considers the cost of developing the B29 into an effective tool, the hours and millions spent to stop it from having its engines burst into flame regularly, the cost in manpower, time, and money to get the damn things to the point where they "did what it says on the box", and then here they are, parked in Arizona awaiting scrapping. Just seems a shame is all.
And Grelmar, you're right too. Postwar, places like Kingman were where the USAAF went to be remade into some more useful form. I get the need. It's just the sentimental slob in me that cries a little at scenes like this:
Gone, every single one of those, and one less in the world since last Saturday. Men fought in thse planes. Some died. Everyone experienced moments of abject Goddamn terror or asked themselves questions about mortality or missed people they loved. And when they were done being useful, these significant, soulful things were chopped up and melted down.
Life moves on. As Ray says, "Just the way she fvckin' goes, boys." But I still find it sad.
And for those who haven't seen it:
The pic above shows aircraft that cost huge sacrifices of treasure to create being prepped to melt down into ingots, later to become the aluminium muffin tins that everyone has at least one of in their kitchen right now. The best use of worn out airframes, I guess, and very much a "swords into plowshares" deal, but still, when one considers the cost of developing the B29 into an effective tool, the hours and millions spent to stop it from having its engines burst into flame regularly, the cost in manpower, time, and money to get the damn things to the point where they "did what it says on the box", and then here they are, parked in Arizona awaiting scrapping. Just seems a shame is all.
And Grelmar, you're right too. Postwar, places like Kingman were where the USAAF went to be remade into some more useful form. I get the need. It's just the sentimental slob in me that cries a little at scenes like this:
Gone, every single one of those, and one less in the world since last Saturday. Men fought in thse planes. Some died. Everyone experienced moments of abject Goddamn terror or asked themselves questions about mortality or missed people they loved. And when they were done being useful, these significant, soulful things were chopped up and melted down.
Life moves on. As Ray says, "Just the way she fvckin' goes, boys." But I still find it sad.
And for those who haven't seen it:
