By Tom Eeles
The tale of crew Captain Tom Eeles who served within the RAF for forty four years and totalled over 8000 hours of flying in twenty-eight various plane kinds. Tom entered RAF university Cranwell in 1961, he won his RAF wings in 1963.
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Additional info for A Passion for Flying: 8,000 hours of RAF Flying
Once there, I stayed up late each evening to call Chris in private and emailed him regularly. Having avoided any Christmas disasters, I also played New Year’s Eve safe, home alone with Seamus. Chris spent it with his family in Florida for the Orange Bowl. He also sneaked off to call me late at night without his parents or his sisters, Kati and Courtney, knowing. Or so we thought. As the winter transformed into spring, my rule about “every other weekend only” eroded. We spent most weekends together, but we stuck to our pact to disclose our relationship only on a “need to know” basis.
I’d like to go home. Home is good. Also, feed me. Oh my God, feed me!! So hungry! Come on, Mom, let’s go home now! Here’s our car! We’re going home! I love home. Food is at home! AAAAAARRROOOOOOOOO!!! I drove home, steering with one hand and rifling through my purse for tissue with the other. Tears flowed down my face, and I wiped them away again and again before giving up. I sniffed and tried to inhale deeply at the stoplight. I turned to Seamus in his crate in my backseat and petted him through the bars until the driver behind me honked.
Wait. Stop. You’re being paranoid. They’re very nice people. Look, she’s smiling at you. He’s refilling the champagne. They can see their son is happy. That’s all a parent can want, right? Right? Chris had been raised in a privileged background, and his parents were used to knowing and controlling every aspect of their three children’s lives. Heavy emphasis on children. It had worked out very well so far—Chris was a very polite, very well-mannered, private-schooled, Princeton-educated, oldest son of an intact, close-knit family.