“Fox 02, this is Lumut Tower,” Air Force Captain Nazrul Johar spoke loud and clear into the microphone addressing the pilot. The navy helicopter hovered at the other end of the airfield from the control tower. Captain Nazrul referred the pilot over to ground control.
Down on the tarmac below, Navy Sub Lieutenant Michael Stone signaled the aircraft forward. When it was right above the yellow square on the ground, he began to motion it downward. Inch by inch, he guided the pilot until the helicopter skids came into contact with the cement helipad in front of him.
That was the last one.
Stone lowered his ear muffs and goggles. Wiping the sweat from his brows, he exhaled deeply. It had been a long and humid day. He shook hands with the rest of the ground control men on duty that day and trudged back toward the main building. He needed a cold drink.
In the crew room he found Captain Nazrul reclined in a chair, sipping Nescafe and watching the 6pm news.
“Slamat petang tuan,” Stone greeted.
“Ha, Subby,” Nazrul replied sheepishly when he saw Stone. “Satu hari ni dari tower aku duk perhati kau jadi air field marshaller. Aku suka la gaya kau.”
Stone smiled. “Gaya macamana tu, tuan?”
“Kau ni rilek je. Sempoi.” Nazrul said. “Biasa kalau orang baru, dia punya gelabah takyah cakap la. Macam takut kena makan aircraft tu.”
Stone chuckled.
Despite having a credible Air Wing, the Navy’s air traffic control (ATC) department was operated by a small but highly competent team of loaned personnel from the Air Force. Nazrul was one of those few who wore the Air Force colours but played by Navy rules.
He confessed that he joined the armed forces to be a pilot, but ended up doing ATC instead. Stone chatted with Nazrul about his Air Force training and experience in the service.
“Zaman aku kadet dulu lain,” Nazrul said. “Training kau macamana?”
“Kalau nak bandingkan dengan tuan,” Stone tried to be as tactful as possible. “memang la lain. Sekarang squat jump pun dah takde dah.”
Squat jumps are a physical training routine intended for stamina and knee strength. Never mind that after thirty in a row, the trainee feels as if his kneecaps are going to pop like corks. The trainee crouches with his hand clasped behind his head. When the count is given, the trainee jumps in the air as high as possible and lands back in the crouching position.
“Ha? Squat jump dah takde?” Nazrul seemed alarmed. “Apasal?”
“Punca kerosakan sendi lutut, tuan.” Stone grinned, quoting his training officer.
“Mana ada?” challenged Nazrul. “Kalau tak buat betul-betul baru la sendi lutut rosak. Kau tau tak? Squat jump tu penting untuk kekuatan lutut tau.”
Stone grinned.
“Kau tau tak kekuatan lutut tu penting untuk apa?” Nazrul asked.
Stone full well knew the answer, but he kept in mind that this was a senior officer he was addressing.
“Untuk berlari , tuan.”
“Mana ada? Lari pakai otot betis. Cuba kau pikir lagi.”
“Untuk angkat barang, tuan.”
“Mana ada? Angkat barang pakai otot belakang la. Cuba kau pikir kreatif sikit.”
Stone smiled. “Entah la saya tuan.”
Nazrul sighed. “Kau ni dah kahwin ke belum, Michael?”
“Belum, tuan.”
“Haih… patut la kau tak tahu jawapan dia!”
Stone was the butt end of a joke, but the buildup to the joke was so darned good he laughed.
“Kau tengok aku,” Nazrul continued. “Masa aku kadet dulu, rajin aku buat squat jump. Skarang isteri aku bahagia.”
