Alareth
Philosopher
the chemtrails conspiracy
- Thread starter Oliver
- Start date
Oliver
Penultimate Amazing
- Joined
- Aug 12, 2006
- Messages
- 17,396
Alareth
Philosopher
zapatopi is my favorite parody CT/woo site. Their real claim to fame though is the conservation efforts of the rare Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus
LTC8K6
Penultimate Amazing
Contrails have been persistent ever since airplanes got way up there.
1940:
http://www.raf.mod.uk/bob1940/images/22aug1.jpg
1958:
http://www.airliners.net/open.file/094277/M/
http://www.airliners.net/open.file/137564/M/
Good ww2 story and vid:
http://www.381st.org/stories_lloyd-contrails.html
WW2:
http://home.att.net/~ltc8k6/WW2skeins.jpg
WW2 contrails report:
http://naca.central.cranfield.ac.uk/reports/1942/naca-wr-l-474.pdf
From the book The Big Show by Peter Cloistermann:
"Hallo Dalmat Red one, Pandor calling, bandit approaching B for Baker, at angels Z for Zebra, climb flat on vector zero nine five. Out!
I fumbled inside my boot for my code card, which had got mixed up with my maps. I was so clumsy about it I had to ask Pandor to repeat.
O.K. a Jerry was approaching Scapa Flow at altitude Z - I looked it up on the card. Phew! Z meant 40,000 feet. I set my course, still climbing at full boost. Ian's Spit hovered a few yards away...the arctic sun pierced my eyeballs. I switched on the heating and set the pressure in my cabin...In five minutes we had got to 23,000 feet.
Forty-one thousand feet! The cold was really getting frightful and I turned the oxygen full on. Thanks to the pressurised ****pit the pain was bearable. From now on our exhaust gases left a heavy white trail which stretched out and widened behind us like the wake of a ship. We had the sun behind us.
Our special engines were pulling beautifully and our lenghthened wing supported us well in the rarified air. Ian was parallel to me about 900 yards away and we had gained another 2,000 feet, which brought us roughly 1,000 feet higher than our quarry, who was about 2 miles away and approaching rapidly. He must be as blind as a bat.
Tally ho, Ian, ready to attack?
O.K.
He had seen us, but too late. We converged on him. To our surprise it was a Messerschmitt 109G equipped with two fat auxiliary tanks under the wings. He shone like a newly minted penny and he was camouflaged pale-grey above and sky-blue underneath. He had no nationality marks.
First he turned left, but Ian was there, veering towards him. He reversed his turn, saw me, and, with a graceful continuous movement, banked more steeply, rolled gently over on his back, diving vertically in the hope of leaving us behind.
Without hesitation we followed him. He dived straight towards the grey sea which looked congealed, without a wrinkle. He was half a mile ahead of us, with his tanks still fixed to his wings. The speed increased dizzily. At these heights, you have to be careful because you soon reach the speed of sound and then, look out! There is strong risk of finding yourself hanging on a parachute, in your underpants, in less time than it takes to describe it.
_______________________________________________
From the Book Flight To Arras by Antoine de Saint Exupery 1942, about a mission in 1940:
"Are the anti-aircraft firing, Dutertre?"
"I believe they are firing, Captain."
Dutertre cannot tell. The bursts are too distant and the smoke is blended in with the ground. They cannot hope to bring us down by such vague firing. At thirty three thousand feet we are virtually invulnerable. They are firing in order to gauge our position, and probably also to guide the fighter groups towards us. A fighter group diluted in the sky like invisible dust.
The German on the ground knows us by the pearly white scarf which every plane flying at high altitude trails behind like a bridal veil. The disturbance created by our meteoric flight crystallizes the watery vapor in the atmosphere. We unwind behind us a cirrus of icicles. If the atmospheric conditions are favorable to the formation of clouds, our wake will thicken bit by bit and become an evening cloud over the countryside.
The fighters are guided towards us by their radio, by the bursts on the ground, and by the ostentatious luxury of our white scarf. Nevertheless we swim in an emptiness almost interplanetary. Everything around us and within us is total immobility."
**********
Saint-Exupery and his buddy were flying high altitude photography runs in 1940. They were using oxygen, but no pressurization. He mentions that everything froze on the plane, including the controls, guns, throttle. He talks about having to keep squeezing his oxygen supply tube and mask to keep them open and working. Has to kick the rudder, etc. Asks his buddy to check the pressure in the oxygen bottles. Talks about how the altitude is probably damaging his health.
"Into the exhaust pipe of my mask I spat icicles fine as needles. From time to time I had to crush the the stopper of frost that continued to form inside the flexible rubber, lest it suffocate me. When I squeezed the tube, I felt it grate in my palm."
1940:
http://www.raf.mod.uk/bob1940/images/22aug1.jpg
1958:
http://www.airliners.net/open.file/094277/M/
http://www.airliners.net/open.file/137564/M/
Good ww2 story and vid:
http://www.381st.org/stories_lloyd-contrails.html
WW2:
http://home.att.net/~ltc8k6/WW2skeins.jpg
WW2 contrails report:
http://naca.central.cranfield.ac.uk/reports/1942/naca-wr-l-474.pdf
From the book The Big Show by Peter Cloistermann:
"Hallo Dalmat Red one, Pandor calling, bandit approaching B for Baker, at angels Z for Zebra, climb flat on vector zero nine five. Out!
I fumbled inside my boot for my code card, which had got mixed up with my maps. I was so clumsy about it I had to ask Pandor to repeat.
O.K. a Jerry was approaching Scapa Flow at altitude Z - I looked it up on the card. Phew! Z meant 40,000 feet. I set my course, still climbing at full boost. Ian's Spit hovered a few yards away...the arctic sun pierced my eyeballs. I switched on the heating and set the pressure in my cabin...In five minutes we had got to 23,000 feet.
Forty-one thousand feet! The cold was really getting frightful and I turned the oxygen full on. Thanks to the pressurised ****pit the pain was bearable. From now on our exhaust gases left a heavy white trail which stretched out and widened behind us like the wake of a ship. We had the sun behind us.
Our special engines were pulling beautifully and our lenghthened wing supported us well in the rarified air. Ian was parallel to me about 900 yards away and we had gained another 2,000 feet, which brought us roughly 1,000 feet higher than our quarry, who was about 2 miles away and approaching rapidly. He must be as blind as a bat.
Tally ho, Ian, ready to attack?
O.K.
He had seen us, but too late. We converged on him. To our surprise it was a Messerschmitt 109G equipped with two fat auxiliary tanks under the wings. He shone like a newly minted penny and he was camouflaged pale-grey above and sky-blue underneath. He had no nationality marks.
First he turned left, but Ian was there, veering towards him. He reversed his turn, saw me, and, with a graceful continuous movement, banked more steeply, rolled gently over on his back, diving vertically in the hope of leaving us behind.
Without hesitation we followed him. He dived straight towards the grey sea which looked congealed, without a wrinkle. He was half a mile ahead of us, with his tanks still fixed to his wings. The speed increased dizzily. At these heights, you have to be careful because you soon reach the speed of sound and then, look out! There is strong risk of finding yourself hanging on a parachute, in your underpants, in less time than it takes to describe it.
_______________________________________________
From the Book Flight To Arras by Antoine de Saint Exupery 1942, about a mission in 1940:
"Are the anti-aircraft firing, Dutertre?"
"I believe they are firing, Captain."
Dutertre cannot tell. The bursts are too distant and the smoke is blended in with the ground. They cannot hope to bring us down by such vague firing. At thirty three thousand feet we are virtually invulnerable. They are firing in order to gauge our position, and probably also to guide the fighter groups towards us. A fighter group diluted in the sky like invisible dust.
The German on the ground knows us by the pearly white scarf which every plane flying at high altitude trails behind like a bridal veil. The disturbance created by our meteoric flight crystallizes the watery vapor in the atmosphere. We unwind behind us a cirrus of icicles. If the atmospheric conditions are favorable to the formation of clouds, our wake will thicken bit by bit and become an evening cloud over the countryside.
The fighters are guided towards us by their radio, by the bursts on the ground, and by the ostentatious luxury of our white scarf. Nevertheless we swim in an emptiness almost interplanetary. Everything around us and within us is total immobility."
**********
Saint-Exupery and his buddy were flying high altitude photography runs in 1940. They were using oxygen, but no pressurization. He mentions that everything froze on the plane, including the controls, guns, throttle. He talks about having to keep squeezing his oxygen supply tube and mask to keep them open and working. Has to kick the rudder, etc. Asks his buddy to check the pressure in the oxygen bottles. Talks about how the altitude is probably damaging his health.
"Into the exhaust pipe of my mask I spat icicles fine as needles. From time to time I had to crush the the stopper of frost that continued to form inside the flexible rubber, lest it suffocate me. When I squeezed the tube, I felt it grate in my palm."
CurtC
Illuminator
Watch your language in the forum!
LTC8K6
Penultimate Amazing
Test
cockpit
It wasn't this board.
cockpit
It wasn't this board.