Somehow I have spent the last 22 years of my life living in southeastern Pennsylvania without ever having heard of an absolutely incredible annual event: World War II Weekend at the Mid-Atlantic Air Museum in Reading, PA. But this year, I heard about it. This year, I went. And it was absolutely fantastic.
But before I did that, I ate Korean BBQ:
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| (not pictured: incredibly delicious seafood pancake) |
Korean BBQ is probably the most perfect food in the world. I don't know why we ever eat anything else. I mean, take another look:
Big props to my friend 57, who is the first person ever to show me the joys of Korean BBQ. 57, I couldn't really appreciate it at the time, but I love you for it now.
But back to the World War II show! A friend of mine mentioned it to me, and I knew I had to be there. As someone who likes WWII enough to have written a book with that as the setting, it was a very exciting thing for me to attend.
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| A proud P-51 Mustang. I saw this flying just a few minutes before it was being wheeled past here. |
Also, being that my book is about tanks, you can bet I was excited when I saw this:
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| A German tank destroyer, the SturmGeschütz IV ("Assault Gun"). Not technically a tank, but still awesome. |
There were re-enactors everywhere dressed in authentic uniforms, arranged by unit into camps with all sorts of genuine WWII military hardware lying around. Terrifying SS officers made the rounds as well, striking fear into our hearts. A miniature French village served as the set for a series of mock battles between US soldiers and the Wehrmacht (German army); all the while, fighter and bomber planes zipped overhead, tilting to give us a better view of their sleekly engineered beauty as they navigated the friendly skies of Reading.
It was loud. It was muddy. It was crowded, I was hungry, and it wasn't cheap. But it was amazing, and I will be going back there every year for as long as I can make it work. These things call to me, you know? All those vehicles -- they all actually move! And there were a bunch of historical figures wandering around, from FDR to MacArthur, from Frank Sinatra to some old gangsters (wait, do I repeat myself?)!
The day closed out with a big band playing swing music while we danced with abandon in an old hangar. It was raucous good times, especially because a bunch of dance clubs came out dressed for the period! It was a hoot and a holler to see the gents and dames ready for a night on the town, to watch GIs spin their lady-friends with easy aplomb. Plus, I saw a few Indiana Jones villains dancing with old ladies, which was fantastic. I also learned that I really appreciate what 40's fashions do for the female figure! The hairstyles are pretty awesome, as well. When are those going to come back?
I went with my wife, and she is a competitive ballroom dancer, so of course I couldn't keep up with her on the dance floor. After a few dances where I gave it my all, I stepped out of the way so she could find a competent dance partner and get down to the serious business of sock-hopping, and I wandered off to see what I might see. Out there on the tarmac, I found something that had been missing all my life.
Arrayed in even rows over the airfield were all of the planes that had flown that day: slender, nimble fighter planes, thick and sturdy bombers, boxy training planes, gigantic transports, and a dozen unassuming biplanes made up only a small portion of the total flying machines that had been left to watch the night's festivities in somber repose. In the dark, I walked among them all, admiring the engineering genius and care that had gone into designing and building such excellent planes. I was able to reach out and touch them, to feel the thickness of their metal hides, to see the little sutures where one sheet of aluminum connected to the next and understand their construction in a new way. I was able to push the planes and feel the slightest give, to see how superbly they were balanced. I was able to stand in almost complete silence, the only sound being the distant noise of the dance, and pay my respects to these behemoths, large and small, that served and continue to serve with faith, speed, and strength.
I stood amidst the planes, and found I was almost overcome with tears; some deep part of me had only ever wanted this, had only ever wanted to be this close to them. I have always had an interest in flight, as you must know; but even if I never fly them, in that moment, just being able to touch them was enough. It moved me, fundamentally; it fulfilled a dream that I hadn't even known I had.
That's why I know I'm going back. The rest of the day was surely spectacular, but it was no more than that: spectacle. What I experienced walking around in the dark, with those planes as my only companions, involved me in a serious and special way. That was the point when I knew that I would have to return, if only so I'd have the chance to once again commune with those princes of the sky.
and love is the ink in the well when her body writes
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