"The Truth" Capter 2 - The Tower

Roswell Army Air Field (RAAF), Air Traffic Control Tower, Roswell New Mexico 2nd of July, 1947

Sean Flannery had just gotten to the Airfield and gotten his possessions stored in the locker that was assigned for his use in the day room, or break room as the civilians called it, at the base of the Air Traffic Control (ATC) Tower; He had 30 minutes before his shift started and there was a hot pool game in progress on the pool table they had in their day room. He wanted to challenge the winner of this game but just didn’t have time.
Sean was a Sergeant (SGT) and one of the senior ranking Jr. enlisted members of his squad of fourteen Air Traffic Controllers assigned to the RAAF. He had been a SGT once before but had been busted to Corporal after he had gotten into a little trouble when he was off duty less than a year ago. He had been promoted again to SGT ten months ago and was responsible to make sure his tower crew was present for duty and prepared for their shift.

The trouble he had gotten into hadn’t really hurt his career too much, but made him work harder to overcome the stigma of having been arrested. It did however solidify a bond of friendship that will last forever. One Saturday night he and his good friend Bryan, who had grown up around here someplace, were out in town playing pool, drinking and blowing off some steam as GIs tend to do when they are given a weekend pass. They had gotten into a bar brawl with a few of the local civilians.

Bryan Foster had been Sean’s friend since he had arrived here in New Mexico two years ago. He was originally from the local area, and his family owned a big cattle ranch a few miles from the base, Sean had been there once and really enjoyed it.
They had met, playing pool in the day room of the transient billets that they had both been temporarily assigned to. The ATC detachment and the Military Police Company shared a barracks building as they are both shift workers and their schedules seemed to coincide. Their new barracks building was under renovation two buildings down from where they were playing pool. Through the many friendly games of pool they played and the healthy respect of each others skills on the pool table, they become good friends even though Bryan was a Military Policeman.
Bryan explained to Sean once that for an MP to develop a close friendship with someone outside of the MP Corps was pretty unusual, as most MPs, as well as their civilian counterparts in law enforcement, only associate with other lawmen in their respective departments exclusively, on and off duty. Bryan explained this to Sean as an unusually strong bond that the police share with each other that most other occupations don’t experience. Sean didn’t really care about all this, as he just liked hanging out with Bryan. He had a strong character, and lively personality, and because Bryan new most of the local girls and the local hang outs, but most of all because he could match Sean’s skills on the pool table.

When he got into trouble that Saturday night, they were in a pool hall in town called Jerry’s, they were having a little fun and playing pool against the locals for some spending cash, when a local cowboy, who had lost a game miserably, had started a fight with Bryan over something to do with his family’s cattle ranch. Sean had stepped in to cover Bryan’s back when a couple of the cowboy’s buddies had tried to get involved. During the brawl they had torn the bar up pretty good, even punched the owner who was trying to break up the ruckus.

When the MPs came to pick them up from the civilian police station, Bryan had told them what had happened and that Sean had backed him up. Sean had earned their respect that night. Bryan had told him later while they were at the MP station, that the young ranch hand insulted his father and his family name.

It was ok with Sean that he was sitting next to his friend on a bench at the MP Station because of an insult, Sean loved to fight anyway. He was a prime example of a real Irishman. Red Hair, Green eyes, Fair skin, and as tough as nails. Above all however, Sean loved a good fight.

Sean also liked his Irish whiskey. Especially the fine single malt Irish whiskey that was aged in a stone crock jug, and as smooth as anything Bryan had ever drunk. What was strange about this stuff though was that Sean always seemed to have an endless supply on hand. It seemed as though Sean had a mystery supplier of this fine Irish libation and Sean was always willing to share it with his friends, even though it wasn’t available in any of the local liquor stores. This was somewhat of a mystery to Bryan, how Sean came into possession of as much of this fine quality liquor whenever he wanted it, and one day in the distant future, he may try to figure it out, but he won’t really try too hard too soon, as they all enjoyed it immensely when they got together.

Because he had stood up with Bryan to cover his back, as a real friend would do, the word spread throughout the MP Company. Sean had inadvertantly gained the respect of the other MPs on the base, as well as the reputation as someone that could be depended on. Sean was always welcome wherever and whenever they all gathered together.

Sean’s reduction in grade to corporal couldn’t be avoided, as the owner of the bar, who had been thoroughly embarrassed due to the black eye he was given, had pressed charges. He and Bryan, along with the others involved, had to pay for the damages and issue a public apology. Sean’s Detachment Commander, CPT Lewis, said at the reading of Sean’s Article 15, “discipline must be maintained in the Army, you can’t go punching out civilians in bars.” And in the blink of an eye, he had lost one rank and a months pay. However, he was promoted to SGT again within two months.
It seems that his First Sergeant, 1SG Dean, had been called by the Provost Marshall Operations Sergeant, and given the real facts about how the incident had unfolded. As a professional courtesy, Sean’s 1SG said he would take care of him after the dust settled and his commander had cooled down. 1SG Dean was good to his word.

The Air Traffic controllers shared the tower day room with other airfield personnel to relax, eat, or drink a cup of Joe, while they were off duty, or on break from their duty shifts. The whole ATC squad would gather there to play pool and cards, or just shoot the breeze when they had nothing better to do.

Their shifts were pretty good here at the RAAF; the air traffic here was not really heavy, which translates to less stress. Three ATCs were on always on duty, two of which were in the tower at any one time. The other was on break in the day room. They worked each 8 hour shift for three days and then off for four days. One day of professional development training, when it was needed to maintain their qualifications, and then back into the shift cycle. The shifts rotated from Days (8:00am – 4:00pm) to Swings (4:00pm – 12:00 midnight) to Mids (Midnight – 8:00am).

Sean was a very experienced controller and had been a controller in England during the war and never passed on the opportunity to tell the younger men, who had never experienced the war, about his experiences there. The shifts in England were long and arduous and because of the potential bombings, constant enemy and friendly fly-overs, and the heavy traffic patterns, they were extremely stressful. Some of Sean’s co workers said that these experiences are why Sean liked to drink so much when he was off duty, but his friends knew that he just liked the whiskey.

In Contrast of what you would think of someone who drank heavily at times, while Sean was on duty he was the consummate professional and as solid as a rock. Nothing ever fazed him. He was the perfect example, and the best roll model for the other controllers to emulate. He was the ultimate, Professional Air Traffic Controller and would be able to work at any of the worlds best Airports when it was his time to leave the Army.
Sean was no career man, or lifer as the others called him. He had been an ATC for 6 years, and had just reenlisted for three more years. He had told Bryan that he had personal reasons for doing this, but didn’t want to stay in the Army after this enlistment. Sean had not elaborated on this, and Bryan didn’t push it. Bryan figured if Sean wanted to tell him he would. Bryan’s dad had taught him when he was growing up, to keep his nose on his face and not in other peoples business.

Besides, Bryan had his own secret that he had not told anyone. He had not told his father or even his closest friend that he had just reenlisted for three years. The timing wasn’t right and he didn’t quite know how to break the news, especially to his dad. His father had been expecting him to get out of the Army and become a Cattle Rancher, as both of his older brothers had done. He didn’t quite know how to tell him that he didn’t want to be a rancher. He loved police work and wanted to pursue it as a civilian career when he got out of the Army.

As Sean had completed his tower duty checks of the equipment and the inventory of the keys, he and his crew received their take over briefing from the off going crew and took their stations. As one of his controllers had requested an hour to complete some personal business, Sean took the first shift as Sr. Controller.

As the Sr. Controller in the tower, Sean was responsible for all tower activities and supervised the military and civilian traffic in the RAAF traffic pattern. This Air Space responsibility covered a grand total of 2000 miles in circumference with the RAAF in the center. He was currently tracking three civilian aircraft in his airspace. There was no military traffic currently in the pattern.
Sean was three hours into his shift; the pattern was clear with the exception of a small private plane leaving the pattern enroute to Albuquerque, when an unidentified object appeared in his screen. It was at an extreme elevation and traveling faster than anything he had ever seen. At first, Sean had thought it was a glitch in the equipment. He checked his equipment thoroughly and found it to be in perfect working order. The object was on a strait, rapidly descending track from west to east and moving faster that any known Aircraft in existence. Sean quickly did the math and questioned his own results. This object was on a track moving at 30,000 mph, which if unchecked would result in an impact approximately eight miles east of Roswell, a few miles outside the boundary of the post. Sean repeatedly tried to contact the unidentified aircraft on all the RAAF frequencies and the emergency frequency. He didn’t get a response.

Sean had barley had the time to have the other on duty controller look at the unidentified aircraft and confirm his figures, when he lost it from his radar screen. They visually witnessed a ball of flame streak across the night sky for the few seconds that it was in view from the tower and then a bright flash of light in the distance. As they lost sight of the unidentified object, the ground shook and rumbled as though they were having an earthquake and the tower swayed back and forth a few inches from plumb. Sean remembered being in the tower during bomb raids during the war and feeling movement like this. This movement had to have been from the apparent impact of this as yet unidentified Aircraft but was more intense than he had ever experienced in his life. To create this type of movement, the object must have been really big or very explosive, or maybe both.

Sean was in shock as the realization struck him, that there had been a plane crash on his watch. He paused for a few seconds to gather and organize his thoughts, and then with the enormity of what had just happened foremost on his mind, he reached for the telephone. He dialed the first number, the first of many that he would have to dial over the coming hours, on the emergency contact roster that was posted next to the phone. He was not prepared to answer the many questions with which he would be bombarded with in the coming hours. There were so many questions and very little information from which to piece together his answers.

Sean had contacted the base leadership, the hospital, the airfield commander and then he called the Military Police Desk Sergeant. Sean knew the Sergeant on duty through his friendship with Bryan. By the stress in his voice Sean knew the sergeant was obviously being bombarded with reports of the fireball. Sean reported where the track had apparently taken the object and was told by the Desk SGT that the MPs, the local Sheriff, and the fire department were already enroute to check out the scene. Sean asked the Desk Sergeant if Bryan was on duty tonight. He told him, Bryan was the Patrol Supervisor on duty, and that the Impact area was near his family’s Ranch. Bryan was one of the patrols enroute to the scene. As Sean hung up the phone, and continued to call the numbers on his roster, he thought to himself that they couldn’t have sent anyone better into that area to check things out. Foremost in his mind at that moment however, was that Bryan would be able to give him the facts he was missing, and tell him what type of Aircraft that had crashed during his watch.