rhmc24
Absent Comrade
This memory was on my mind & woke me up last nite, so today I wrote about it --
The airline world late 1960s, early '70s was agog at the next step which was supersonic.
The Concorde was being built in France by a Franco-British consortium. British Airways &
Air France would have them & Pan Am was interested & put several of us into an info
gathering group, preparatory to a decision to order. My first contact was on the British
side of the channel; Rolls Royce who would build the engines.
It was at a time TV was full of a major ship going aground on the "seven stones" somewhere
off-shore of our meeting place. Of major English interest it didn't eclipse the fact that
nothing was too good for us, seen as part of the decision making process. We were
introduced to a variety of traditional English entertainments, skirling, a weird game like
a bowling alley but instead of a ball, a device with a handle on top that was skidded down
the alley. We pretended to enjoy it & I enjoyed beyond description an old time stage
program of comedy, music, dance. etc. They did a good job on the Rolls engine, its
history, technical, etc., all the detail a purchaser could possibly want. The end of third
day we were put into two small twin-engine planes & flown to Paris.
I was appointed tour-guide for my French language skill, fragmentary though it was. Our
hotel reservation had been made by some economy driven assistant in NY & we had its name &
address. Got in a couple taxis in search of a hotel unknown to the drivers & proceeded to
the address. Night by then, in a dark part of the city, we spied a single light & the
hotel name. Ringing, finally he comes to the door, happy we had arrived. He had given us
up & closed for the night. We were starving & the kitchen was closed. Interrupting his
TV watching, he finally said help yourself to anything & we'll figure it out in the a.m.,
then proceeded to put a mark on all the bottle labels. There was ham & cheeses, bread,
mustard & some kind of pudding, so we made out OK.
Rooms were sparse but clean, in the corner behind a curtain, a bidet & shower; facilities
down the hall. Bidet is best described as a plumbing fixture, the American lady asks the
French maid "is that to wash the baby in?" "No, madam, zat is to wash ze baby out". We
settled our bill for a flat sum which we split, cheap enuf we thought, checking out.
Next day the French technical presentation, held in a meeting auditorium for European
railroads. Each of us had a desk facing the presentation area, with headphones & a switch
to select the language you wanted to hear. In booths above sat translaters who presented
the chosen language. I think there were six choices & there were others present than our
Pan Am group. I was in the front row & heard the French & listened to the English
translation, sometimes comical, the translator familiar with railroad terminology guessing
at the correct aviation word. The French presentation was in far more minute detail, down
to the millimeter, too much IMO compared to the Rolls Royce.
We quartered in a good hotel that night. I recalled a restaurant, same taxi search but
couldn't find it. We got out & walked, finding it closed. Walking further we arrived at
a brasserie (bar, usually serving meals). Lady there, now 9 p.m. says kitchen is closed
but seeing our problem & potential cash-flow says she will feed us. Closing the bar,
takes us down in the basement, a room with a big table, chairs & curtained all around.
She put red wine on the table & glasses where we waited, not knowing & too hungry to care
what we would eat. By the time we had each put away few glasses of red, she brings in each
of us a big steak & pomme frites (french fries). Maybe just a matter of circumstance, but
that is one of my enduring steak memories. For the exorbitant total of $6 apiece she also
called taxis for us. I left her a $5 tip & the others left something.
Next day to Toulouse, the Concorde factory. We were met with three small station wagons,
a map, some instructions & that the cars were our for the duration of our visit. I was
driver of one & took the lead thru the medieval city, threading our way thru big-city
traffic, totally lost only knowing we had got to the far edge of town. I stopped at a gas
station, French type, just a space along other buildings, gas pumps on the street & door
into the office. I never met before or since anyone so happy & enthusiastic as the
operator was when he learned of our Concorde mission. It took quite a lot of talk before
he pointed out our destination in the distance, which turns, etc.
At the factory, much the same as at Boeing, Douglas & Lockheed, a tour, visit airplane
interior, see one taking off & landing. Opulent, meals, hotel, bar; we were getting
weary, at least I was & ready for home again.
The rest as they say is history, nobody but the Brits & French bought the Concorde due its
astronomic operating cost. It flew schedules into NY for a few years & after a major crash
& technical adventures was taken out of service. My history of it is these fond memories ----->
The airline world late 1960s, early '70s was agog at the next step which was supersonic.
The Concorde was being built in France by a Franco-British consortium. British Airways &
Air France would have them & Pan Am was interested & put several of us into an info
gathering group, preparatory to a decision to order. My first contact was on the British
side of the channel; Rolls Royce who would build the engines.
It was at a time TV was full of a major ship going aground on the "seven stones" somewhere
off-shore of our meeting place. Of major English interest it didn't eclipse the fact that
nothing was too good for us, seen as part of the decision making process. We were
introduced to a variety of traditional English entertainments, skirling, a weird game like
a bowling alley but instead of a ball, a device with a handle on top that was skidded down
the alley. We pretended to enjoy it & I enjoyed beyond description an old time stage
program of comedy, music, dance. etc. They did a good job on the Rolls engine, its
history, technical, etc., all the detail a purchaser could possibly want. The end of third
day we were put into two small twin-engine planes & flown to Paris.
I was appointed tour-guide for my French language skill, fragmentary though it was. Our
hotel reservation had been made by some economy driven assistant in NY & we had its name &
address. Got in a couple taxis in search of a hotel unknown to the drivers & proceeded to
the address. Night by then, in a dark part of the city, we spied a single light & the
hotel name. Ringing, finally he comes to the door, happy we had arrived. He had given us
up & closed for the night. We were starving & the kitchen was closed. Interrupting his
TV watching, he finally said help yourself to anything & we'll figure it out in the a.m.,
then proceeded to put a mark on all the bottle labels. There was ham & cheeses, bread,
mustard & some kind of pudding, so we made out OK.
Rooms were sparse but clean, in the corner behind a curtain, a bidet & shower; facilities
down the hall. Bidet is best described as a plumbing fixture, the American lady asks the
French maid "is that to wash the baby in?" "No, madam, zat is to wash ze baby out". We
settled our bill for a flat sum which we split, cheap enuf we thought, checking out.
Next day the French technical presentation, held in a meeting auditorium for European
railroads. Each of us had a desk facing the presentation area, with headphones & a switch
to select the language you wanted to hear. In booths above sat translaters who presented
the chosen language. I think there were six choices & there were others present than our
Pan Am group. I was in the front row & heard the French & listened to the English
translation, sometimes comical, the translator familiar with railroad terminology guessing
at the correct aviation word. The French presentation was in far more minute detail, down
to the millimeter, too much IMO compared to the Rolls Royce.
We quartered in a good hotel that night. I recalled a restaurant, same taxi search but
couldn't find it. We got out & walked, finding it closed. Walking further we arrived at
a brasserie (bar, usually serving meals). Lady there, now 9 p.m. says kitchen is closed
but seeing our problem & potential cash-flow says she will feed us. Closing the bar,
takes us down in the basement, a room with a big table, chairs & curtained all around.
She put red wine on the table & glasses where we waited, not knowing & too hungry to care
what we would eat. By the time we had each put away few glasses of red, she brings in each
of us a big steak & pomme frites (french fries). Maybe just a matter of circumstance, but
that is one of my enduring steak memories. For the exorbitant total of $6 apiece she also
called taxis for us. I left her a $5 tip & the others left something.
Next day to Toulouse, the Concorde factory. We were met with three small station wagons,
a map, some instructions & that the cars were our for the duration of our visit. I was
driver of one & took the lead thru the medieval city, threading our way thru big-city
traffic, totally lost only knowing we had got to the far edge of town. I stopped at a gas
station, French type, just a space along other buildings, gas pumps on the street & door
into the office. I never met before or since anyone so happy & enthusiastic as the
operator was when he learned of our Concorde mission. It took quite a lot of talk before
he pointed out our destination in the distance, which turns, etc.
At the factory, much the same as at Boeing, Douglas & Lockheed, a tour, visit airplane
interior, see one taking off & landing. Opulent, meals, hotel, bar; we were getting
weary, at least I was & ready for home again.
The rest as they say is history, nobody but the Brits & French bought the Concorde due its
astronomic operating cost. It flew schedules into NY for a few years & after a major crash
& technical adventures was taken out of service. My history of it is these fond memories ----->
