Just another day at the office
by O.B. Johns

JANUARY 2001

Thursday, 4:30 p.m.: Two managers waiting to see me. Four voice mails left during my last overseas phone. My secretary comes into my office with a stack of last minute check requests. One of my six children is holding on line five, with a frantic request for rent money at college. Then, my husband calls on my direct line to tell me that I have to be "wheels up" in 45 minutes if I'm going to be able to beat the growing line of thunderstorms that emerge over the afternoon Rockies this time of year.

Suddenly, the air show on the West Coast begins to wrap its tantalizing grip of excitement and expectation around me. The other crisis in my life begin to slip into a more manageable mode...anticipating the arrival of old friends and meeting new ones, the media day tomorrow, where all the kinks of any air show are begun to be wrung out, the deconflicting of all the aircraft and the airspace... Oh, if only life could be this simple, where everyone is professional and has a common goal. The bags are already on one of the team's aircraft that left this morning. The flight suit and helmet are at the hangar. The A-37 is fueled and Robert has done the pre-flight...Oh yes, the managers! And all the other super priority problems. OK, five minutes apiece. Sign the last minute paperwork. Calm the college kid. Five minutes to brief my secretary for tomorrow and make sure she knows how to reach me. Then try to arrange my exit so I have a chance to say "hi" to the 80 or so people working in seven other departments on the varying floors. Let's see, that's ten more minutes. Hmmm, with traffic this time of day, 15 minutes to the airport will be close, but doable. At least any last minute loose ends can be handled on the car phone enroute.

The President? Secretary of State? Head of General Motors? No, just another day at the office for Carleen Heckendorf, the "voice " of the 69th Battalion Special Operations Group. Owning and running a global floral wire service (one of five in the world) is a full time job. Yet, every weekend during the summer, she, her husband Robert, and twenty dedicated Team members of the 69th climb into their "Superman phone booth" and emerge as one of the Air Show Industries' truly unique acts. Six Vietnam era aircraft, pilots, mechanics, U.S. Army Special Forces jump team and the "infield" explosives experts that, to many, are the best in the business, and all head out to one of over 24 scheduled performances this season.

How did all this happen? Flashback to the University of California: a young girl with an accounting major out to conquer the world, ... on to becoming the national sales leader for a large national corporation and then starting her own business in 1983 and destined to be one of the most successful of its kind. Hard work, and uncountable days spent at the office, 14 and sometimes 18 hours a day, traveling five days a week, conventions on weekends, and then, a family.

So where did the air shows come from? Her husband has an inordinate love of aviation and a passion to remind people of all those who never returned from that unpopular war in Southeast Asia. He, like others on the team, still experiences haunting visions of the long black granite wall in our nation's capital.

The children are mostly on their own now. The air show venue seems to be the perfect vehicle for her to remind all that freedom is most definitely not free and something that must be nurtured, and if need be, fought for.

The nimble, high performance jet blasts off the runway at Centennial Airport and turns west, climbing to flight level 240. When Air Traffic Control queries, "What type aircraft is an A-37 Dragonfly?" she replies, " a T-37 on steroids."

Soon, she is doing the flying while husband Robert reprograms the GPS for the arrival into the Los Angeles Basin and arrival at March Air Force Base. As the jet is handed off to March Approach Control, a request for an overhead 360 approach to landing is made by the controller. The Air Force still loves the agile little bird that retired eight years ago.

As the two J-85's wind down, Carleen is on the ramp, removing her parachute, and almost simultaneously changing her flying boots for her trademark sandals. With hugs all around, three field grade officers and a number of friends from other acts begin converging to plan the evening's get-together at the local "club."

First things first for Carleen: locating the vehicles and determining whether they will meet the Team's needs. Does the billeting agree with the list submitted to the base several weeks prior? Have all of the 69th aircraft been parked in the correct locations? Are the explosive magazines secure on the "hot ramp"? Are the team's baggage and equipment sorted and accounted for? Is the schedule for the media day tomorrow available? When and where is the pilot briefing in the morning? Will there be any special requirements for the PA system this year?

Back at the room, there are three faxes from her secretary (Carleen takes a portable Fax with her on the road). Her mobile phone lists two numbers that she needs to call. Finally by 23:00 business is taken care of, the team's two-way radios are all in their chargers and the "who in what" flight schedule is completed for the following day.

The Pilot brief is succinct and to the point; the Air Force at March run their show just like a mission. Nothing is left to chance and safety is the overriding consideration. It's time to parlay with the PA people and make sure their equipment will be compatible with the " live mike" broadcast made during the Team's two separate acts. Carleen climbs to the announcers' stand and makes sure that the VHF antenna of her self-contained air to ground system has a good spot to be placed and the Team's internal FM communication system has to have a thorough checkout. Coordinating the day's media events requires consultation with the team, especially when a last minute request for some "pyro for the A-10 today because General so-and-so is here just for the day and not for Saturday's or Sunday's 'real' shows". (The base Commander wants to give him the best demo possible since he flew an A-10 in Desert Storm.)

After a quick confirmation from the 69th's infield team, she gives the OK for a full-blown A-10 demo. But, she explains there will be a trade off, due to inventory restraints of the team's explosives. The A-37 and OV-1D will just make simulated bombing runs today, thus freeing up the explosives for the A-10, and the downed pilot act will still go as planned.

The Media Day has been a success; the General is happy; the Base Commander is ecstatic over the General's reaction and the evening news carries some great shots of the A-10 Demo. The Skyraider steals the show however, when the TV announcer explains that his station's general manager was a ground pounder in Vietnam and that the sound of the Skyraider was "the sweetest thing you could hear."

People still have a little trouble with a "female" doing the announcing for the male dominated air show act. Carleen says it's been that way most of her life, but things are certainly changing. After the TV and newspaper interviews, it's back to the room and eight more faxes need to be attended to and a few calls to be returned; otherwise it will be an early night. The 05:00 "show" for breakfast and team brief is on everyone's mind as the evening draws to a close.

An hour before each of the 69th's programs, the team gathers at the aircraft to brief the show; later they will debrief after each performance. Launch and recovery times. Holding areas. Emergency procedures. All are discussed and briefed thoroughly. Carleen has arranged transportation after the act so the pilots can be taken to the autograph area to sign special 69th posters, which she already has overseen distributed to the crowds entering the base.

The act is great, but Carleen's announcing helps the show to really hit home. After a pilot is "rescued" and carried to safety, her words are heard over the mike.

"Remember how they flew at A Shau...Khe Sahn...across the burning Plain of Jars...Son Tay. They never asked for glory or a hero's place, but only one more pass...to fly and fight." Carleen then reclaims the crowd's attention with a salute to the A-1 "Sandy" and queries, "If your memory dims, go ask the infantry who watched them from the battle's ragged front beneath the jungle trees...ask the FAC's: Firefly...Raven...Shotgun... about the times, they called, 'Spad, hit my smoke!' Or ask a rescued pilot what the call sign 'SANDY' means. Their wings were stained with oil and 20-millimeter cannon smoke; their valor was as bright as burning steel. And when they fell, they took an honor guard of enemy to tramp behind them on their final march. Faintly, heard from far away, the distant thunder of their engines rises through the evening calm...Phantom Wingmen off to war...never forget."

Today, as with each show, Carleen memorializes a crew that never came come from the war. To teary-eyed vets and civilians alike, the haunting words seem to float across the suddenly quiet show line..."This performance is dedicated to the memory of the brave men of Blue Ghost 39 and Jolly Green 67 who paid the ultimate price trying to rescue their countrymen 29 years ago this month. They honored all of us by their sacrifice. And it is good to know that others are still here - as we saw last year in Serbia. So, here is to our lost brothers. We love you, we remember you, and we honor you. May God bless you in your eternal sleep."

Stepping down from the announcer's stand, a knot of people surround her...one face in particular stands out. A fiftyish, balding gentleman with tears in his eyes reaches out and touches her arm. "Ma'am, you have just made me feel as proud as any person could. I was rescued by a Jolly Green and a " Sandy" during Vietnam. What you people did today was so close to my experience that I still have goose bumps. I never really had a chance to thank the Sandy pilot for his bravery that day. I feel like your act just did! Thank you for letting people know the sacrifice so many made." A lady patiently waits and tells Carleen that her husband is in tears after seeing the show. "But," she explains, "they're good tears! His experiences in Vietnam were so close to what you just portrayed; you've just helped him reach back and lay to rest some memories. Thank you very much!"

On the ride back to billeting the mobile phone is turned on and the "business umbilical" is re-born. Four faxes grace the table in the room and the message light is blinking on the telephone. Oh well, just another day at the office.