AIRLINE- DRIVER JUMP-SEAT ADVENTURES CHRONICLE 2

                                                     AFTERNOON LADIES......cont.



         The Captain shot a Cat III approach into Heathrow in typical crappy weather, allowing occasional glimpses of the frozen ground below as I stared out the side window, my thoughts on home.

          I admired the Old Man as he hand-flew the Jumbo down the glide-slope, calm as a man playing a Sunday game of golf. I had learned this was his last flight before retiring. On the return trip he´d be turning in his retirement papers after 48 years with Pan Am. There was a hint of sadness in the cockpit. I swear I saw tears in his eyes as this was his next-to-last flight. It might have been my imagination.

          He didn´t flinch or say a word as his First Officer, a New-Yorker, argued with the Heathrow ATC controller. - I repeat, please speak clearly, Sir. I cannot understand your accent,- he radioed, pronouncing his words with exagerated slowness.

          The approach controller did, indeed, have a strong Scottish accent, but I just couldn´t believe the back and forth banter going on over the frequency.

          American and British professionals un-able to understand one another?  Oh Brother !  Koreans, Italians, Asians and many other foreign pilots all shared common language mis-understandings, but this ? This was incredible! Almost embarassing. It sure woke me up !

          Meanwhile, stabilized on the ILS, a different controller, with very clear pronounciation this time, gave us our landing authorization, apologizing for the mis-understanding. Problem solved. We were cleared to land.

          The Captain looked comfortable as a cat licking its paws while he adjusted the 4 throttles, like he´d done succesfully thousands of times before, to land on the water-contaminated runway.