Some Aviation Humor (In memory of my flying days)

A KingAir had just rotated (lifted-off the runway) at take-off when there was an enormous bang and the starboard engine burst into flames. After stamping on the rudder to sort out the asymmetric thrust, trying to feather the propeller and going through the engine fire drills with considerable calmness and aplomb, the stress took its toll on the Captain... He transmitted to the tower in a level friendly voice: "Ladies and gentleman. There is no problem at all but we're just going to land for a nice cup of tea." He then switched to cabin intercom and screamed at the passengers: "Mayday. Mayday. Mayday. Engine fire. Prop won't feather. If I can't hold this asymmetric we're going in. Emergency landing. Get the crash crew out." The aircraft landed safely with the passengers' hair standing on end. 

In 1978 I was a trainee Air Traffic Controller under supervision at Collage Station Texas, Easterwood Tower. This is a true story of a radio discussion one afternoon:
Unknown Aircraft: "Hello?.."
Easterwood Tower (me): "Please say again."
UA: "What?"
ET: "Who is this?"
UA: "This is Joe"
ET: "This is Easterwood Tower, where are you?"
UA: "I'm in the plane!"
(I looked down the flight line, checking if someone was sitting in a parked plane playing with the radio. I didn't see anything, and the senior controller was becoming more interested in my handling of the situation.)
ET: "Joe, where is the pilot?"
UA: "He got out when the engine quit.."
(I could only imagine a bizarre scenario in which the pilot had jumped from the plane.)
ET: "Joe, what does your airspeed indicator read?"
UA: (Long pause) "Zero?"
(So the plane was now in a stall I thought.)
ET: "Joe, whatever you have in front of you - a stick or a steering wheel - push it forward - you need to get airspeed over your wings!"
UA: "Are you sure?"
ET: "Yes Joe you need to push it forward... (pause)... What does your airspeed indicator read now?"
UA: "It's still zero."
(I thought, oh my god, Joe's plane was in a falling leaf spin. I couldn't help him. Joe was going to die. I did not know what to do. I looked to the senior controller. He said, "Ask him where his plane is.")
ET: "Joe, where is your plane?"
UA: "We are parked down at the end of the runway, the pilot got out when the engine quit and walked back to the hanger.."
ET: "Joe, get off the radio." 

A story from the late 1950's Navy flight training at Corpus Christi, Texas. Instructors were known to party hard at night, even before a 'hop' the next morning. A common 'cure' was to put on the mask and breathe the pure oxygen while the trainee got the craft airborne. The SNJ training aircraft had a tandum cockpit with intercom for personal communication between the instructor and the trainee. These 'private' communications would be broadcast on air if the intercom switch were accidentally left open. One such morning following a heavy night for one particular instructor, not long after the flight was aloft, the following was heard over the air: "Boy, am I ever f...ed up this morning." After a lengthy pause a young lady air traffic controller demanded: "Aircraft making that last transmission, please identify yourself." There was an even lengthier pause, and then a voice said: "Lady, I'm not that f...ed up."

While taxiing at London's Gatwick Airport, the crew of a US Air flight departing for Ft. Lauderdale made a wrong turn and came nose to nose with a United 727. An irate female ground controller lashed out at the US Air crew, screaming: "US Air 2771, where the hell are you going?! I told you to turn right onto Charlie taxiway! You turned right on Delta! Stop right there. I know it's difficult for you to tell the difference between C and D, but get it right!" Continuing her rage to the embarrassed crew, she was now shouting hysterically: "God! Now you've screwed everything up! It'll take forever to sort this out! You stay right there and don't move till I tell you to! You can expect progressive taxi instructions in about half an hour and I want you to go exactly where I tell you, when I tell you, and how I tell you! You got that, US Air 2771?" US Air 2771: "Yes, ma'am," the humbled crew responded. Naturally, the ground control communications frequency fell terribly silent after the verbal bashing of US Air 2771. Nobody wanted to chance engaging the irate ground controller in her current state of mind. Tension in every cockpit out around Gatwick was definitely running high. Just then an unknown pilot broke the silence and keyed his microphone, asking: "Wasn't I married to you once?" 

German air controllers at Frankfurt Airport are renowned as a short-tempered lot. They, it is alleged, not only expect one to know one's gate parking location, but how to get there without any assistance from them. So it was with some amusement that we (a Pan Am 747) listened to the following exchange between Frankfurt ground control and a British Airways 747, call sign Speedbird 206.
Speedbird 206: "Frankfurt, Speedbird 206 clear of active runway."
Ground: "Speedbird 206. Taxi to gate Alpha One-Seven." The BA 747 pulled onto the main taxiway and slowed to a stop.
Ground: "Speedbird, do you not know where you are going?"
Speedbird 206: "Stand by, Ground, I'm looking up our gate location now."
Ground (with quite arrogant impatience): "Speedbird 206, have you not been to Frankfurt before?"
Speedbird 206 (coolly): "Yes, twice in 1944, but it was dark,... and I didn't land."  


Pan Am 727 flight waiting for start clearance in Munich overheard the following:
Lufthansa (in German): "Ground, what is our start clearance time?"
Ground (in English): "If you want an answer you must speak in English."
Lufthansa (in English): "I am a German, flying a German airplane, in Germany. Why must I speak English?"
Unknown voice from another plane (in a beautiful British accent): "Because you lost the bloody war." 

A military pilot called for a priority landing because his single-engine jet fighter was running "a bit peaked." Air Traffic Control told the fighter pilot that he was number two, behind a B-52 that had one engine shut down. "Ah," the fighter pilot remarked, "The dreaded seven-engine approach."


Control tower to a 747: "United 329 heavy, your traffic is a Fokker, one o'clock, three miles, Eastbound."
United 239: "Approach, I've always wanted to say this... I've got the little Fokker in sight."

"TWA 2341, for noise abatement turn right 45 Degrees."
"Centre, we are at 35,000 feet. How much noise can we make up here?"
"Sir, have you ever heard the noise a 747 makes when it hits a 727?"