An Unremarkable Flight

When the lights of civilization have been left behind, the precipice of belief can be reached quickly. All anyone can do is not fall off the edge.

Captain Tykeman took the 747, the last one off the assembly line, out on its final flight from Tokyo to Las Angeles. The long years of service were finally catching up to the old giant. The Airliners that were being cycled into utilization needed less fuel, a smaller complement of crew as an onboard AI took care of most of the flying, and had a better range compared to the 747 beast that once ruled the civilian skies. As in all things, the transition to the new and improved models took time.

The time had finally come.

“Do you think anyone else on this plane knows?” Captain Tykeman asked his co-pilot Captain Leiry. Leiry had joined the crew a few months ago, having had an exceptional record in the Air Force before transitioning to the civilian world. Tykeman was the senior pilot and aircraft commander for this final flight having the most hours behind the Boeing 747, however with his experience in the Air Force, Leiry had more accumulated hours flying.

Captain Leiry smiled to himself, thinking of the B-52 bomber he had flown long ago. “Probably not, but isn’t that the beauty of it? An unremarkable flight is a good flight. When we land, we can tell the passengers and crew. That would be a good last impression of this plane.”

Tykeman had flown his whole career as a civilian pilot, having finally qualified to pilot his dream aircraft only a year ago. He knew Leiry had military experience and knew what he flew. “Is that what it was like flying your bomber for the last time?”

The aircraft had just reached 30,000 feet and fully departed from the tendrils of light that was Asia. The night was bright with stars that reflected off the Pacific Ocean miles below the plane. To the unexperienced observer, the expanse ahead seemed so vast it made the aircraft seem as if it were hanging in mid air between the heavens and earth. In the far distance, where the endless stars met the static ocean, the dark line of a storm advancing across the horizon could just now be seen.

Captain Leiry set the autopilot and double checked the heading before answering Tykeman’s question. “The biggest difference,” Leiry began while finishing his tasks, “was that I didn’t know it was my last flight when I boarded the plane.”

“What do you mean?” Tykeman asked, taking his hand and feet off the controls to ensure the auto pilot had engaged properly before fully relaxing.

Leiry sat back and investigated the dark horizon like he was reading a history book that was his experience. “No one knew that was the last flight for the B-52. It was a standard flight, nothing special. We flew the patrol route and didn’t even encounter bad weather. When we landed though, we were called into the Squadron Commander’s office with no notice.”

“I bet you were on high alert,” Tykeman cut in.

Giving a slight side eye, Leiry continued. “You could say that. Normally I would get a heads up from one of the other pilots but there weren’t any around. So, we arrive at the CO’s office with the whole crew, and we’re asked to sit. The CO explained to us that our expertise was no longer needed, and that we would be receiving orders soon to report to training. The B-52 was being grounded, so we would be trained to fly the new bomber drones at a remote site. I don’t remember any of the details; I was close to retiring as it was. Instead of going through with everything, I asked the CO to cut my orders to something else so I can get ready to retire.”

“You’re right, that was unremarkable.” Tykeman jabbed, trying to make light of the story.

Leiry smiled at the growing void between the stars above and ocean below that was the storm out the cockpit window. “And for that, I remember it the best. I imagine that is how most of the greater plane’s final flight went. Nothing special, just take off, get to altitude, and land.”

Tykeman listened to his co-pilot’s musings and thought only of how grateful he was to even have the chance to fly this plane, even for the short amount of time he had. They fell into silence for some time, both wrapped in memories, hopes, and fears of what their shared profession may become with the changing technology.

The Boeing 474 traditionally flew with more than the two pilots, as the flights would often take well over 10 hours and the need for rest is ever present when humans are involved. For this last flight, Tykeman and Leiry were chosen to fly after both had come off a week of down time, so it was just the two in the cockpit. The complement of flight attendants numbered 15 for this flight, but only one had the credentials to enter the cabin while in flight as a security precaution. That flight attendant knocked on the door after the two pilots had been quiet for some time, startling the two into focus once again.

Krista Backersman opened the cockpit door and closed it quickly behind herself. She had just finished going through the plane to ensure the attendants had everything they needed, and that there weren’t any unruly passengers at the start of the trip.

“Captains,” she said as an introduction and to call attention to the two pilots.

“We’re awake Krista,” Tykeman said as he turned to face her. “How’s everything looking back there so far?”

“Good sir,” Krista said while taking a seat in the second row of pilot’s chairs, behind Captain Leiry. “There are a few passengers who may become a pain, asking for extra pillows and why this plane is so old, but they shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Well, they just have to survive this flight and they won’t have to worry about it again,” Leiry said, only just realizing he let slip the secret if Krista caught on.

Tykeman realized Leiry’s verbal misstep and tried to cover for his copilot. “How’s the rest of the crew?” He asked hoping to change the subject.

“They’re good sir, three are on a two-hour break now getting some rest, they are on a turnaround shift. Everyone else should have everything they need,” Krista responded. She quickly leaned forward, thrusting her head between the pilots to face Leiry.

“What did you mean about having to worry about it again?”

Leiry, a well-trained pilot who normally could keep his cool under any circumstance, couldn’t keep his face from flushing red at being caught. Tykeman smiled, observing the interaction out of the corner of this eye as he continued to face forward, keeping quiet to see how Leiry would handle the confrontation.

“Ok look,” Leiry started, “We were going to tell the crew and the passengers after we landed but I guess we’ll tell you now.”

Tykeman cut in, sharing in the secret keeping so Leiry wasn’t alone in the guilt of it. “This is the last flight of the 747. Not just this specific aircraft, but the whole line. We got word of it about an hour before takeoff, which is why we are flying without the assistant pilots and a larger complement of flight attendants. In fact, I’m pretty sure after we land everyone will get notice of retraining on the new aircraft coming into service.”

Krista had turned to face Tykeman when he said this, her face slowly registering the surprise she was feeling. She looked back and forth to both pilots, who neither gave away any tell of a lie. “So,” she said slowly, “This isn’t a prank.”

“No, no it is not,” Leiry said with the finality of experience.

“This is the last fully manned flight on a commercial craft,” Tykeman said, watching the storm through the front again. The other two turned and looked as well, allowing the silence to envelop the cockpit.

The storm had grown now in the view out the window. Forecasters had informed the flight crew that while the storm was large, it wasn’t particularly powerful, and the turbulence should be moderate as the air currents were stronger closer to the water instead of at altitude. For those reasons, the decision had been made to fly through instead of diverting around or above the storm.

“I’ll,” Krista said, but stopped. She had found it hard to breathe. Her profession was disappearing in front of her. “I’ll make sure everyone is ready for the storm.”

Krista stood quickly and walked to the cabin door. Before either pilot could stop her, she opened it and was outside. “I won’t tell,” she said quickly before the door closed behind her.

Captain Tykeman got back to business, getting on the intercom to inform crew and passengers of the potentially rough weather ahead. Captain Leiry double checked the systems, including the wing defroster, and prepared the cabin in case of turbulence.

The clouds enveloped them.

The expectation of the storm didn’t slow the progression or subdue the striking difference between the starlight that once filled the window and the Vantaa black they now found themselves in. Captain Leiry was immediately grateful for his training in the Airforce, being directed to fly though some of the worst weather imaginable. Leiry knew the plane would be safe and said as much to Tykeman.

“This isn’t as bad as some of the storms I had to go through back in the day.” The air of the comment didn’t hold the ego found in some pilots, and Tykeman appreciated the attempt at comfort. He too had flown through some intense situations, but none quite the same as Leiry.

“I agree. At least we aren’t in one of the old giants that didn’t have the radar, radio, or anything to fly through this.”

“I always wondered what it would be like,” Leiry said. “Flying on one of those old birds.”

“Oh yeah? Which one would you like to fly the most? Of the old birds I mean, can’t have the ability to fly in this.” Tykeman challenged Leiry.

The lights from the instrument panel glowed green, softly lighting the space enough for the pilots to see one another. A hum could be heard throughout the cabin, greater than the expected engine noise. Passengers don’t have the opportunity to witness this phenomenon, what sounds emanate in the cockpit when flying though a cumulus cloud that is full on additional electrical charge.

Using the low hum of electricity though the cockpit as white noise to help think, Tykeman responded to the challenge. “I know I’ve been flying big plans most all of my career, but if I had a chance to fly a P-51 Mustang I could die a happy man.”

Leiry, also used to the sound and grateful for the pause to think of an aircraft for himself, smiled at the answer. “I would have said that one too, but my go to is the F-4 Phantom. Like you said though, we have flown larger aircraft so in that spirit I would probably want to fly a C-47.”

Appreciating the thought in both of those answers, Tykeman asked, “Civilian or military models?”

The hum continued in the confined area, growing more intensely until the crack of thunder could be heard behind the aircraft. Leiry had held his answer until the shockwave of sound had subsided to respond without raising his voice, but the hum only continued. Thunder came and went without any reprisal from the instrument panel, the hum changing in pitch from pleasant to a drone of concussive presser threatening to burst the unprotected eardrums of the pilots.

Leiry was the first to go for his headset, Tykeman soon after if only to be able to converse with his copilot.

“What on earth is that?” Tykeman asked, wondering if Leiry had any experience with something of this nature. The drone now shaking the cockpit so badly, both pilots found their hands vibrating.

“No idea, but if this keeps up, we need to get over this storm,” Leiry responded beginning to show real worry.

The clouds, blocking out all starlight from the moonless night, seemed to be holding the enormous Boeing 747 in its trajectory. The plan began to act on its own, refusing to take the commands of the pilots’ attempt to get out of the perilous position.

“Is it..” asked Leiry.

“No, it’s not responding to me either,” responded Tykeman after they both had tried pulling back on the yoke to take the 747 higher in altitude.

Thunder cracked again, this time off the port side of the aircraft and causing the airframe to shudder in the aftermath. No cries could be heard from the passengers as the drone continued. Calls from the flight attendants went unanswered, if there were any calls, as both Captain Tykeman and Captain Leiry continued to focus on battling the old beast for altitude.

With a ring, like a single small bell holding its initial tone, everything stopped.

Tykeman and Leiry both checked the instruments and found they hadn’t changed course. Looking at each other in the instrument panel’s glow, the entirety of their faces lit up suddenly with starlight.

“What..”Tykeman asked.

“The hell?” Leiry finished the sentiment.

The pilots looked out now on the night sky as the clouds had opened into a bowl as if it were a canyon some new explorer had found. White mountains of atmospheric, pressures, water vapors, and winds circled them in a cloud canyon that shouldn’t be there in meteorological means.

The drone came back suddenly, seemingly to lay a weight of sound on the two pilots like the gravitational force of a tight turn. Both men held onto the yoke, hoping this was a dream and to wake soon.

Then a shadow appeared over them, flying low and close to the aircraft, engulfing the aircraft in a titanic shadow. Above the beast that was the final 747 passenger flight, a B-52 flew over.

“That’s not supposed to be there,” Leiry said, awestruck at the site of his old airplane flying above them.

Tykeman, shaking at the realization that he was not the only one to see this ghost above them, started to look around in the hopes of finding something more plausible than a ghost giant flying above them. Instead of reassurance, he found other relics of the past.

To the left, right, and below, planes of all sizes and years began entering the view of the cockpit. One by one, they came abreast of the cockpit and view of the pilots. A C-130 with its four propeller engines flew under the enormous 747 first. Then a C-47, next a F-4 phantom, F-14 Tomcat, Dauntless, more and more of the relics of the flying past came to fly.

“I never would have believed this if I hadn’t seen it,” said Tykeman, the first to vocalize the oddity they both were seeing quite clearly.

A P-51 Mustang, Sopwith Camel, P-40 all came along crowding the air space with the drone and hum of jet engines and piston driven propellers alike. The two pilots looked around at the growing number of planes that shouldn’t be in the air any longer. The Write Flyer, the French Monocoque, and german Junkers J-13 joined the growing aerial armada.

Above and to the port side, a B-29, to the starboard side a B-17. As the planes came, more and more filling the air, below the 747 came helicopters. Hueys, Chinooks, OH-42, all shapes and sizes. Cessnas and Radial Fliers all came of all makes and models.

“What do you think?” asked Tykeman gawking at the sheer number of aircraft of all ages escorting the lumbering 747 though the gap in the cloud mountains.

“I think,” Leiry said, just then catching Tykeman’s eye while holding back tears of his own. “I think they’re paying tribute.”

Both Tykeman and Leiry had their headsets on, as they didn’t have the presence of mind to take them off after the thunder crashes in the cloudbank. Now, with the concussive wave of noise from the surrounding aircraft, a Blimp the newest member in the flock, the headset was the only way they could hear one another. Looking back out into the formation, now including aircraft they were not familiar with and others still they knew from the history books. Mig-19, Mig-21, SKU-33, a Japanese Zero, a German Messerschmitt 109, Mil Mi-24, all aircraft from other nations joining in the aerial parade.

The hum of the engines seemed to overpower the headsets the pilots wore, until suddenly it didn’t. All at once the thrumming, humming, droning of the uncountable former kings and queens of the sky hushed to a dull roar. Over the radio, untouched or controlled by the pilots, came voices. A choir of sorts, of the pilots who no longer can touch the land they were born on filled the airwaves.

“Glory be to the gravity,

That keeps our feet on ground,

To the creeks, mountains, and valleys,

Who keep us honest bound.

Glory be to the wind,

Our hearts will forever fly,

On our final fights to send,

Our souls to the endless sky.

Glory be to thee,

Mighty craft we command,

Breaking bonds of land and air,

Who made our lives so grand.

On to the final flight,

No longer fly alone,

The end of the final flight,

The sky forever home.”

The choir of ghostly voices, the pilots of the mighty aircraft all around the two Captains, faded as the power of the engines took over the airwaves once again.

The mountainous cloudbank grew ever closer now, swallowing one aircraft at a time as the formation was too widespread to allow for any order. The formation began to dismantle with the coming wall of atmospheric water vapor as it swallowed each of the historical aircraft.

Leiry looked out the side of the cockpit, only a few moments before the 747 entered the clouds as well, to see the last of the escort aircraft. The Douglas DC-1 was close enough for Leiry to see the pilot at the controls, though there were no details of the individual as if they were shrouded in a fog. The head of the ghost pilot turned to face Leiry and gave him a thumbs up.

Darkness took over the cockpit again. The soft green glow of the instrument lights, and now unintrusive hum of the aircraft settled Tykeman and Leiry both into the comfort of their familiar plane. Slowly, both captains took off their headsets and looked at one another, challenging without words one another to dispute what they had experienced.

----

Descending from 30,000 feet and towards the growing morning light that was cresting the North American continent, Krista returned to the cockpit.

“Sorry,” she said as she entered. “I meant to check on you two a few times, but I had to take some time for myself.”

Tykeman turned to look at Krista while Liery monitored the rate of decent of the aircraft. “Everything ok?” Tykeman asked.

“Yeah, the news you shared just hit harder than I realized. I had no idea I would miss a plane until I knew I wouldn’t be able to see it whenever I wanted to.” Krista smiled, shrugging at the embarrassment that seemed to show on her reddening cheeks.

“It’s understandable,” Leiry said. “We are feeling it too.”

“Well anyway, back to my job while I have it.” Krista said standing up straighter with resolve. “How are things up here? Do you need anything?”

“We’re ok, about to make the announcement to everyone about the landing.” Leiry said, glancing at Tykeman.

“It was a good flight, unremarkable even.” Tykeman said, smiling out through the cockpit and into the morning sun.