God, it was big! No, that's wrong. It was enormous! I stood beneath what I thought was the nose entrance hatch. It was the hatch to the radio compartment. What did I know? I looked back toward the tail and all I could see was a wing. It could have been measured in acres or time zones. Where to begin? It was late April 1954. I had spent a year and a half in the Air Training Command, trying to get to where I now stood. In those eighteen months I had jumped through every hoop the Air Force had set before me. Unknowingly, it had jumped through a few of mine. On this warm spring day, we had reached an accord. The Strategic Air Command (SAC) had cut orders sending me to the 436th Bomb Squadron, 7th Bomb Wing, 19th Air Division, Eighth Air Force at Carswell AFB, Ft. Worth, Texas. I was happy to oblige. I had achieved Nirvana.
