A surface wind which blows at an angle to the landing or take-off heading.
A crosswind landing is one of the most difficult exercises for a student pilot. The final approach is usually made with the aircraft yawed into the wind, while tracking the extended runway centerline. Just before touchdown, the pilot aligns the aircraft with the direction of flight using the rudder pedals. Correct timing for the alignment and accurate airspeed are required to achieve positive contact with the runway surface, otherwise the aircraft may depart the runway to one side.
* * *
It is no secret throughout the entire PAAC that I and César are together. And with the stint of Geronimo revealing to everyone else of our engagement, and César paying for the celebration of a drinking spree more than a month ago, everyone knew that we're set to be married.
So, there comes then the question now. Since I've been the nurse who've interviewed him and checked how fit he is to fly today, everyone is definitely asking if I've done something to favor his intention to be up in the air. Definitely not, as I trust that I'll not even let him take the risk of having no right bearings to be in control of a plane; let alone even to let him drive, if ever. And, surely, he had been passionate of flying that I know he knows the rules: and one of it is not to fly intoxicated. After all, is there any reason for him to lie if it is his safety which will be compromised, and if it will be my dignity and honor as a nurse which will be questioned?
I doubt it that he will definitely dare do something dangerous as that.
Well, no one is questioning me those things. None of them are blaming me over the matter, nor the fact that they think César will definitely do something like that. Because everyone knows what kind of person both of us are; and very much they know César to be more than just a basketball superstar during college as he had proven that he has the brains and skills necessary to be a pilot. So, everyone is sure that he will not take the risk of losing his license by flying drunk or whatever happened that led for him to be submitted to a sobriety test as needed.
I sigh heavily as another colleague of mine voluntarily takes the record of Lt. Bernardo from me as she'll accompany another doctor who'll conduct the test, leaving me alone with that of César's. The manila folder is quite heavy and thick, filled with too many documents and readings. I can't help checking the latest record on that of his; one that involves the latest medical clearance earlier today and be followed by previous others throughout his flying career within this year. Probably, the older ones are safely kept somewhere else.
"(L/N)," a middle-aged male doctor calls for me, and I immediately draw closer to him to hand that of César's records. He places the folder first on his desk, opening it and reading through the files. "Hmm... ikaw 'yong nag-pre-check kay Basa kanina, ano?"
"Yes po, doc. His temperature and blood pressure are within normal. He also checked out the rest of the details necessary when interviewed," I answer as I watch him looking back for other reports even outside that of medical clearances—psychologist analysis, skill test, written comments and reports of flight instructors and the likes, and even other medical records of X-ray and dental. "I'm sorry, doc, kung nagkaroon ako ng pagkukulang regarding sa pre-flight check-up niya."
He sighs heavily. "Wala kang naging pagkukulang tungkol doon, (L/N). Matagal-tagal ko na ring kilala si Basa, at marami-rami na rin silang mga piloto na nakilala ko. One thing that I am sure of, they will not dare risk losing their license just to do something stupid enough to get them killed like flying drunk. Panigurado na alam din nila kung anong mangyayari, if ever na nagsinungaling sila sa mga pre-flight check-ups nila." He closes the folder and scratches the back of his head. "Mag-iisang buwan pa nga lang noong huling aksidente, may ganito na naman. Ang mahalaga ay ligtas sila pareho, at ang maigi ngayon ay walang bumagsak na eroplano."
I agree with that. For some reasons, I can't understand the despair of passengers in commenting a pilot's skills at all. All that mattered to me is that we all make it to our destinations safely, as it is the number one priority of every pilot.
The doctor drums his fingers for a moment against his desk before looking up at me again and asks, "Kayo ni Basa, ano? Naririnig ko lamang sa iba, at hindi pa ulit kami nagkikita kaya hindi ko natatanong sa kanya."
"Ah! O-Opo," I shyly answer. Admitting that there's something between us is like the final nail to the coffin that it is real. At least, in this dreamscape alone.
"Congratulations," he tells me, when I thought that he'll definitely be scolding me over the matter and used that relationship as a possible excuse for me to be lenient or whatsoever. Hence, the congratulations is quite surprising to me. He then tells me to follow after him as he walks on to wherever we're surely meeting César for the sobriety test. "Come on. Kahit hindi ako makapaniwala, well kailangan natin mapatunayan sa iba na hindi siya lasing para gawin man kung ano ang ginawa niya."
I know that I am glad that César is safe; but I'll be honest to say that I am curious of what he had done. As matters currently stand, it is still a very big question mark for me as I can't think of anything stupid that he'll dare try doing.
* * *
"Godoy, seryoso," I hear César speaking his defense by the time I and the doctor draw closer to where he is in. By the way hearing him talking speaks for itself that he is with someone. "Hindi ako lasing."
"César, muntikan na kayo magbanggaan. Tangina, sinong maniniwala na hindi isa sa inyo ang lasing hangga't hindi niyo talaga napapatunayan?" That sounds like Godofredo with him in, that by the time the doctor himself enters in the room first, with me following behind, my deduction had been true.
Both César and Godofredo are the ones inside the small and rather dull room. The set-up is almost like a prison cell or interrogation room due to the lack of further furniture befitting of a medical bay, all except for the already prepared apparatus for the sobriety test known in this era as the 'drunkometer'. It is a little weird seeing the equipment itself as it is the size of a suitcase, when the breathalyzers in my reality are all very handy.
"Well, Basa," the doctor addresses César, who is seating right next to the drunkometer on top of the table; while I draw closer to where Godofredo stands just next to the door. "Hindi ko inaakala na darating tayo sa ganito."
César leans his head back, exposing the span of his neck, and breathes in deeply. He appears completely the same from the last time I've seen, though he is still wearing his leather jacket and the scarf around his neck is undone, just as his cloth helmet and goggles are on one end of the table. "Hindi ko rin inaakala na gagawin ko ito sa buong buhay ko, doc."
"'Wag kang magsabi ng ganyan kung talagang hindi ka umiinom. Wala akong kilalang piloto na hindi umiinom ng alak," counters the doctor.
When César sits up straighter to listen intently on what the doctor is explaining regarding how the drunkometer works, I realize that his eyes settle at me for a moment before redirecting his focus to where it is definitely needed right now.
Godofredo sighs next to me, and I can't help but wonder what is truly behind that exhausted look, keeping his arms crossed as his eyes are attuned to César. For the record, the only reason that we're here is to bear witness that the test will not be fabricated at all. And a few seconds later, I hear Godofredo muttering, "Alam ko naman na hindi siya lasing."
I blink and snap my head at him. I don't know if that statement is meant for me to hear as some sort of an assurance or whatsoever; but I also don't feel like opening the topic of what happened at all.
At that, the lieutenant turns his eyes at me and adds, "It just so happens that it is a close-call."
I shiver at the meaning behind that. 'Close-call' definitely means an almost death experience, right?
"Not too bad compared noong sa amin ni Ruperto. Pero hindi naman ibig-sabihin na iyon lang 'yong mga posibleng close-calls, 'di ba?"
"Well, if it isn't too rude of me to ask..."
"I also doubt na sasabihin sa iyo ni César kung ano ba talaga ang nangyari. Paniguradong mas gugustuhin niyang itago kung gaano kalala 'yong insidente." He casts a sideway glance to where César is quite busy by now, listening like the eager child he is for something new, all the while he is holding on to a balloon. "At alam ko na paniguradong magagalit siya sa akin kapag sinabi ko sa iyo, pero dapat nga 'di ba walang sikretong tinatago sa pagitan niyong dalawa?
"Muntikan na nga sila magbanggaan ni Bernardo. Well, things usually got heated up kahit sabihin na mock dogfight lang. Kaya noong binubuntutan niya si Bernardo, alam kong umiwas siya na magbanggaan sila kaya nag-pull up kaagad siya; tapos ito namang si Bernardo ay nag-dive," he explains with simple terms as necessary for me to understand; but I know that it is still quite too complex. "Let's be honest, close-call. According sa art of aerial combat, both are classic fighter maneuvers. The problem is, masyadong risky ang ginawa nila pareho. Pareho nilang pinush sa limit 'yong mga eroplano; dahil basic principle of flight is pitching down equals to a gain of airspeed, and pitching up equals to a lost of airspeed. Uhm, nakuha mo ba 'yon?"
I nod. "Siguro dahan-dahan lang sa kung ano ang susunod mong ipapaliwanag, lalo na kapag naging masyadong technical."
He smiles at me sheepishly. "I know na sasabihin mong it is common for a plane to climb and descent. True. But not to the point na beyond sa operational capacity ng airframe ng eroplano. Uhm... wait, paano ba maipapaliwanag iyon sa mas simpleng paraan?" He presses his lips to a tight line, and closes his eyes with a deep frown, visibly thinking. And after a few seconds, he sighs and stares back at me. "Wala akong maisip na mas simpleng paliwanag regarding doon eh. Ang masasabi ko lang ay sa kaso ni Bernardo, may posibilidad na magkalas-kalas 'yong eroplano dahil sa sobrang bilis; and 'yong kay César naman ay malaki ang posibilidad na mag-stall 'yong eroplano and then..." This time, he is adding some dramatics with his hands to prove his point.
But he didn't need to go on with the technicalities of a plane, flying and aerial combat itself. I can't tell him that I understand the danger as I can hint that there should be a respective plane for that maneuver to be efficient; just as you can't expect an airliner to do something that a fighter jet can do. And in this era, there is definitely very few details of a respective aircraft's limit, except for what the manufacturers are capable of warning about.
Not to mention that hearing that it is a 'close-call' is enough information to me that what happened is indeed dangerous.
"Clear," the doctor announces a few minutes later, reading the data he received as seen that the chemical liquid added hadn't shown any change of color. "He's sober."
Godofredo breathes out heavily, as if he had been holding that relieved breath for a long time. Probably ever since he learned of what happened himself.
At least, that's something. César didn't lie about his pre-flight check-up; that definitely means that he'll get to keep his pilot's license... right?
"As I've told you, I am not drunk," César counters with a sigh.
"Ibig-sabihin lang no'n na alam mo na ngang delikado pero ginawa mo pa rin," remarks Godofredo as he draws closer to where César is, all the while the doctor had been writing down the records to be inscribed with his signature. "Sinabihan din ako ni Kapitan Villamor na kailangan mo magpasa ng incident report. Believe me, seryosohin mo 'yon at baka ilang beses kang ipagawa ni kapitan."
César clicks his tongue. "Gagawin ko kapag medyo kalmado na ako. Naiinis pa rin ako dahil sa nangyari."
Godofredo signs the paper with the pen offered by the doctor as one of the witnesses, and he then offers it to me. "Hoy, seryoso kasi. Ikaw na nga mismo ang gumawa kaya imbis na kainisan mo 'yong nangyari, mas maigi na mapagtanto mo kung bakit pinatigil kaagad kayo ng training." He sighs another time and crosses his arms. "Tapos kailangan mo rin tanggapin 'yong three days suspension."
I didn't know what emotion crosses César's face upon hearing the news, as I an signing the papers of record as well. However, I know that it definitely pricks hearing the additional order.
"Three days?" César inquires. "Para saan 'yong three days suspension na iyon? Napatunayan na naman na hindi ako lasing."
"Wait. Kumalma ka muna. Alam mo sa sarili mo kung ano ang ginawa mo, kaya paniguradong kailangan mong lubusin 'yong suspension mo para balikan 'yong mga manuals and emergency procedures, dahil paniguradong gigisahin ka tungkol doon bago ka ulit payagan lumipad," explains Godofredo. "Hindi lang naman ikaw. Maging si Bernardo, ganoon din ang kailangan gawin. Given na hindi rin talaga siya nakainom, o kung nakainom man siya ay paniguradong revoked 'yong license niya."
"Is that supposed to assure and calm me down?"
"Yes. That's the order, lieutenant."
César breathes out heavily as he turns to the side, avoiding the rest of our gazes.
Godofredo then talks with the doctor regarding the document that he'll be needing to show to Capt. Villamor to prove that César is really sober during the training; and in a minute or two, the two of them excuse themselves. Before leaving, Godofredo also whispers to me that I better watch out for César in any case that he is to do something stupid.
A minute passed that I only stand there just by the edge of the table and he remains seated, unmoved ever since hearing the verdict. Somehow, it should be an assurance that his license isn't revoked for it; however, hearing a suspension is like receiving an equivalent blow that for a few days, he is taken away from what he loves doing the most.
I chew the inside of my mouth before I finally gain the courage to speak to him; and the first thing out is something I didn't think will be the ideal one. I ask, "Ayos ka lang ba?"
He continues staring at the vacant wall, takes a shaky breath as he prompts his elbow against the armrest and leans his lips against his knuckles before answering, "Yes."
"César," I begin another time, a few seconds later. "Anong nangyari?"
He didn't answer this time, but I take note of the micro changes of his expression. He lowers his gaze as his brows furrow in a conflicted frown. I can't understand what is going on inside his mind right now, but I know that pushing him to explain is like telling him to recount what he just did; which, based on his reaction about Godofredo telling him to write down an incident report is something he mentions he'll be doing once he had calmed down.
"Right..." I sigh heavily and nod. "Sinabi na sa akin ni Godofredo. Pero gusto ko marinig mula sa iyo."
"Ganoon din ang sasabihin ko sa iyo. Kahit sabihin ko sa iyo kung anong nangyari sa panig ko, walang magbabago. Delikado pa rin ang ginawa ko."
"Alam mo na delikado, bakit mo pa rin ginawa?"
"Because it can happen in real life. Kaya nga may training na ganoon. Para alam namin kung ano ang dapat gawin sa panahon na mailagay kami sa ganoong sitwasyon."
"Pero pwede naman kayo mag-ensayo ng hindi nalalagay sa alanganin ang buhay ng kahit sino sa inyo. Wala pa naman ang digmaan dito. Sinong makakapag-sabi kung darating—"
"(Y/N)," he interrupts me. He slowly closes his eyes as a heavy set of frown settles on his features and he gulps in hard, before leaning back on his seat and then opens his eyes to search for mine. "It's happening. Totoo, dalawang taon na noong sumiklab ang digmaan at nangangapa lamang tayo sa mga nangyayari sa labas ng Pilipinas. Pero 'wag na natin ipagkait ang katotohanan na kahit anong ilag o kagustuhan man nating manatilang walang kinikilingan... hindi natin hawak kung ano ang magiging desisyon ng mas may kapangyarihan sa atin. Tungkulin nating pagsilbihang ipaglaban ang mga taong hindi kayang lumaban."
Pero sino ba ang nagsabing pagsilbihan mo sila? I almost blurt out in response. Sino bang nagsabi na kailangan natin masangkot sa digmaan; na kung sino ang may hawak ng kapangyarihan, ay siyang kailangan natin maging sunud-sunuran sa kanila?
César then stands up from his seat. I've always looked up at him due to his height, for he is definitely taller than most; but right now, it feels like he had been much more that I suddenly feel daunted. As his dark eyes stare at me, like it is boring straight to my soul, he states, "This war is coming here, (Y/N). At kahit anong pag-iingat ang gawin ko, it will still be dangerous. It will always be. Kailangan mo rin maintindihan na ganoon ang buhay ko. Ganoon ang buhay namin. That's how we, pilots, live our lives." He takes a shaky breath, as if saying the next words hammered the final nail to the coffin to even convince himself that it is real. "We're not meant to live long."
I once read somewhere that older men declare war, but it is the youth that must fight and die. And upon reading it before, I asked myself, why can't the ones who wages the war be the one to fight for it? Why must innocence be lost from those who are undeserving? But I seem to be seeing the answer too plainly right in front of me now. In the form of Lt. César Basa, I can see it as clear as the sun rising in the morning.
"Why... Why do you sound so eager to die?" I counter in a small voice, unable to bring myself to ask the question as a challenge back to him. I feel my chest hurt, and my breath hitches a little, and my eyes prickle with tears that I look away from him at once.
"(Y/N)..." He calls for me ever so softly. In the same way that is meant to be comforting and assuring.
"Alam ko... Alam ko na darating at darating ang digmaan dito," I add. I don't need to know that the Second World War is coming here in the Philippines, because I can't even give an intel further on about exactly where but just the first strike of it. And for some reasons, I've been hopeful that I get it all wrong; that this dreamscape is not repeating a version of the past that my reality had witnessed of. "At alam ko na hindi talaga magiging ligtas ang kahit sino habang patuloy pa rin ang labanan sa ibang bansa, at totoo na madadawit at madadawit pa rin tayo sa kaguluhang ito."
And, fuck it all... I hate crying. But I suddenly can't stop myself as they fall fast and out of my control. And I am so eager to be comforted to no avail.
"Pero... hindi ko inaasahan na malamang sabik na sabik ka na pala mamatay dahil ganoon ang paniniwala mo. Na ganoon lang ang inaasahan mo sa buhay dahil piloto ka," I continue.
"Hindi sa ganoon—"
"Die, if you want to. You have my blessings," I sharply cut him off and stare back at him. In the blurriness of my vision due to tears, I see the shock registers on his face; clearly unsure of how to deal with my words and with me crying like this. The small room isn't helping much and I want to get out of here, and be away from him for now. Before crossing the room and leave him behind, I bitterly sneer, "Fuck your ideals."
* * *
A/N: Vote, comment and share! Whatever you do means a lot to me, and I am really wishing for some feedback!
A few list of notes to share!
1. Drunkometer is indeed the term for the equipment for the alcohol test. And yes, it was used as early as 1938. Though the reason of usage was to deal with drunk drivers, it wouldn't be surprising to also conduct the same test to suspected drunk pilots. It was about the size of a suitcase with mechanisms inside, and the patient must blow into some balloon where some sort of chemical or liquid had been placed to test alcohol content. When the liquid changed to a deeper purple color, it means that the patient drunk much more alcohol that it could attest to. No color change meant that the patient is sober.
2. Flying and alcohol. We all know that driving drunk is a no-no; hence, flying drunk is much more of a no-no (at least, for pilots). A respective rule had been imposed by the ICAO, the worldwide governing body of aviation created along with the UN (hence, it existed after WWII), that pilots weren't allowed to drink alcohol within eight hours prior to a flight and cannot have a blood alcohol content above 0.04%.
3. Do all pilots drink? I can't say that all pilots do, but drinking alcohol is already considered part of a society norm; and pilots aren't excluded from it, especially with how small and elite the industry is. For pilots, it is a form of socialization that had its roots from flight training. (I entered flying school not even drinking, and I ended up learning to at the early stage of ground school.) Despite that, there are pilots who report drunk in duty; that's why, there had been a random sobriety test from time-to-time.
Chapter title: Crosswind. You think a turbulence will be the most fitting title for this chapter because of the sudden twist of what is going on in this chapter; however, to assure you, turbulence are relatively safer than crosswind! Especially crosswind landings which test a pilot's ability to the limit; well, of course, aside from emergency situations. You see, planes takeoff and land against the wind because it leads to a much greater necessary lift than that of a tailwind; anyway, crosswinds then pushes the aircraft to the side of the runway that lead for a so-called 'crabbing technique' (landing with the aircraft yawed before being aligned to the centerline at touchdown). Anyway, crosswind landings are much prevalent that often lead to go-arounds for those stronger crosswind occurrences.
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