by Ron Kilber (rpknet@aztec.asu.edu)

W hen I first heard about a WWII-era C-53 Skytrooper (aka DC-3), which was being restored at Falcon Field in suburban Phoenix, Arizona, USA, chills ran up my spine. The aviation relic was scheduled to be flown across the North Atlantic Ocean to a museum in Europe via Greenland and Iceland. How exciting, I thought, as I wondered about the people behind the project associated with so much adventure and military history. Envious, I also wondered how the heck an ordinary guy like me might go along on the journey. Believing such an adventure impossible, I spent several days dreaming about flying across the North Atlantic, as I've always wanted to do. Many of us have crossed the ocean in a jetliner at 35,000 feet, but far fewer have flown slow and low on a route that takes upwards of a week or longer. A world-class reward for any thrill-seeking adventurer.

Coincidentally, our journey begins and ends with museums close by. Falcon Field was a Royal Air Force training base during WWII, and today is known for its two on-field institutions, the Champlin Fighter Museum and The Confederate Air Force. In the Netherlands, our destination is the Wings of Liberation Museum in Best.

How I ended up here is a round-about story, and I'll share it with you a little later, but first some background information on this wonderful aviation project and a tribute to those brave soldiers who fought during WWII for the freedom we get to enjoy today.

This C-53 Skytrooper restoration project had its beginning with the Dutch "Museum Bevrijdende Vleugels" (Wings of Liberation), which was founded in 1984 and opened by His Royal Highness Prince Bernhard in honor of those Americans who fought for the Liberation of The Netherlands during World War II. Mr. Jan Driessen privately owns and operates the museum in the community of Best near Eindhoven. The institution is a military war museum memorializing The Liberation of Holland and the Allied effort, code-named Operation Market Garden, which would not have been possible without the C-53 Skytrooper and other variations of the DC-3 such as the C-47 Skytrain. Therefore, it was only natural and appropriate that Mr. Jan Driessen would eventually acquire a most-coveted war relic to add to the museum's growing display. The flyable, but not necessarily airworthy, trophy was found by a scouting team during the summer of 1996 in McAllen, Texas, flown to Mesa, Arizona, and a $100,000 restoration project was underway. As anyone involved with an aviation love affair would understand, the endeavor quickly turned into a $200,000 venture. Perfectly justifiable -- as any good love affair is.

Today, N32MS is a beautiful old war bird freshly painted to original US Army Air Corps specifications, and ready for its final flight and resting place on the floors of the Wings of Liberation Museum in Europe. It's now decked out in its WWII uniform -- US Army olive drab, sky gray on the belly, insignia blue on the stars and bars, and the invasion stripes of black and white. It's not known how many Gooney Birds are decorated like this one, but one thing is sure -- not very many anymore.

Our five-member crew from the Phoenix areas consists of Bob Reid, the left-seat pilot, Steve Wood, copilot, Wes Steadman, maintenance head, and Don Prater, chief-cook-and-bottle-washer. I only met Bob and Wes about a month ago, Steve about a week ago, and I just met Don this morning. Then there's me, too, riding along without anything better to do than look out the window and take pictures. I have to admit, it's almost surreal being here, and I can't but wonder just what I did to deserve such a wonderful opportunity.

Bob Reid is the big cheese. The head honcho. The boss. He's pushing 60-years of age, and owns a Fixed Base Operation (FBO) on Falcon Field in Mesa repairing airplanes, flying air taxis and selling fuel and pilot supplies. He has always been real busy, so I've never had a chance to talk to him very much, but I've heard he served in the military, has a bunch of left-seat hours, and once carried a gun as a lawman. At 180 pounds, his appearance belies his weight, and you wouldn't think he's heavier than I am at 160 pounds and taller at 5'10". When I see him sitting in the left seat, he reminds me a little of Yoda, the Jedi master in the Star Wars movie trilogy, bulging eyes and all.

Wes is bigger, over 200 pounds I'm sure, not much taller than I am, and carries himself in a slow and deliberate manner, as he does with his speech, too. Wes appears to be one of those guys who, if a bomb went off close by, wouldn't react except maybe to eventually turn around to see what all the noise was about. He has a beautiful, antique pickup which he restored in his spare time. If it had chrome mudflaps, they might don the Vargas girl silhouettes. He looks to be in his forties, sports a Lee Marvin haircut, and works for Bob as director of maintenance. Wes has pretty much single-handedly been in charge of the restoration project of the Skytrooper, and he's bringing along his toolbox to fix and repair things as they break along the way. He's not coming along just in case something breaks, he's coming along because something WILL break -- as things always do on vintage airplanes. I know. I used to own one.

Steve is taller and heavier than Wes, though younger by more than a few years. He works for Bob, too, although as a pilot. He's a talkative kind of guy, and is not inhibited when recounting his aviation experiences while in the military. When I first met him, the subject of the Internet was our common ground, along with aviation, so right away we had lots to talk about. But when he wanted to know what kind of firewall my Internet site used, that's when I decided to look at him askance for awhile. I always thought computer hackers were 15-year-old whiz kids. This one is older by probably 20 years. Of course, I later learned he was only kidding. Anyway, Steve is the copilot, and says he's only getting to come along because he has a kitchen pass from his wife.

Don is retired from the aerospace industry and now does consulting work, which is writing contracts or something. He works for Bob, too, although sparingly. Bob may be his only client, and Don says he also is in the diamond or jewelry business with his wife. Both activities get him out of the house, so his wife and infant child have the abode all to themselves. He's a big guy, although bigger in weight than height. You might think he's a little hard of hearing because he's always talking loud, you know, like the guy you can hear talking from the other end of the dining room in a restaurant. While I was on the phone with him last night, a friend that I had over was able to hear everything Don said, even though the telephone receiver was pressed to my ear. He's friendly, has an above-average disposition, and my first impression when I laid eyes on him this morning was that he looked like a few characters from the 1990 Dick Tracy Movie: Little Face, Prune Face and Lips Manlis, all rolled into one. He also resembles Detective Philip Vannatter, the L.A. cop who some say helped botch the O. J. Simpson investigation.

Finally, there's me, a businessman and no stranger to the world of aviation. Born shortly after WWII, I've been a private pilot for thirty years, logging hours flying in the West and Midwest, once flying my single-engine airplane solo all the way to Alaska and back, managing to even negotiate British Columbia's famed and notorious three-hundred-mile Trench. I've survived fuel-pump failure, dead-stick landings and have been trapped (white-knuckled and all) in lethal weather, and by the grace of God I'm still alive today. I'm fully ready for another adventure and completely aware of the tremendous risks which lie ahead of us as we depart Arizona in this old WWII "Dakota" warbird to negotiate one of the world's most dangerous and adventurous routes on earth.

Introduction
Day 1, Mesa, AZ to Salina, Kansas
Day 4, Stuck in Bangor, Maine
Day 7, Greenland to Iceland
Day 11, Iceland to Scotland

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