We came by, once they were on the runway, did a fly past over top of them, and then went back to, uh, Comox.

For years and years, I've been taught not to hit something.

Now I'm supposed to hit it, and the basket is not made of unicorn feathers.

It's a 300-pound steel basket, and it's bobbing around in the wingtip vortex beside or behind the, uh, 707 tanker.

And the particular day that I did it for the first time, we were in the ground attack phase, and of course, the great white cow, the 707, showed up at the worst possible time when our aircraft were super draggy and super heavy and really not suited for flying at slow speeds.

And you're gonna laugh when I say this, but 300 knots at, uh, 20,000 feet is very, very slow for an F-5.

It just barely hangs in the air at that speed, 'cause it's, it's got this wing that demands a lot of speed, like 400, 420, 500.

And, you know, it, man, it do- it does hurt.

And just when you think you know where you're going, this life has a way of changing the plan.

Military life is difficult.

It's extremely rewarding, but it's not easy.

I'd finished up in Moose Jaw.

I was on my way to Bagotville, Quebec, which was where I wanted to be.

So I was posted from Moose Jaw to the course in Cold Lake, and I was supposed to go to Bagotville on the F-5.

Partway through the F-5 course, wing spars, uh, cracked on the aircraft.

Phase two was definitely high stress, the most stress up to that point in my life.