ABOVE AND BELOW THE CLOUDS

The two hours had passed and now his rest time had arrived.

He was instructed to awaken Georgia to take her two hours of duty time.

She was in: “U 4 L” which meant Upper berth #4 on the Left side. There was, naturally, also a seat belt provided and the occupants were instructed to strap in before going to sleep. The procedure to awaken a sleeping soul was, to gently pull on the seat/bed belt and give some tugs until a response was achieved and the curtain was opened by the sleepyhead to find out what was going on.

Herbert did exactly that! He pulled gently on this belt, little by little, until he held the end in his hand. What now? Georgia was not strapped in! He put his hand very slowly in there to get a hand or arm to pull on it. In the dark he fumbled a while until he got hold of something. What’s that? It’s a bosom you idiot, it signaled up there in the windings of his brain. He pulled his hand back, very rapidly! Tooooo late! He was caught in the act. A lady opened the curtain and a pleasant voice whispered: “What is your intention, young man?”

“I, I, I made a mistake, madam,” he stuttered. And continued:

“Please forgive me,” he felt his knees shaking, afraid to collapse right then and there.

“Never mind,” this female answered. He tried desperately to identify this woman but was unable in this sparsely lighted cabin. A pen light was in his pocket as part of an item for each crew member at night time. But he wouldn’t dare to use it to put hurt into injury? To recognize this lady-passenger was futile, since he worked in the galley back there and only knew the ones that were in the downstairs bar. What should he do now? His thoughts were interrupted.

“Since you woke me up, you can bring me a glass of champagne,” this Madonna whispered.

“But of course, madam!” he countered, being joyful to do good for this understanding woman.

Rushing back to the food-preparing caboose, he did not find any open bottle of champagne. Down the stairs he ran taking two steps at a time. The thick carpet was swallowing his heavy footsteps. No opened one there either. He fumbled with trembling fingers to take the wire off the cork to open the bottle. It seemed to him as if it took forever to complete this task. He finally managed to pop it open not to let the cork fly or making a loud noise. Filling up the glass to the rim, he ran up the stairs, again with two steps at the time and slipped, because he took two and a half steps. The coordination between his brain and his legs were not on the same wavelengths. Back again to refill the now empty glass, he forced himself to slow down three notches. Finally he was able to bring the liquid to the bed of this sympathetic feminine being. The curtain was closed and knocking on it would be stupid. Definitely grabbing inside he wouldn’t do so again. So he whispered:

“Lady, here is your champagne!”

A hand came out and Herbert put the drink in there. He was so happy to have done something for her; he almost kissed this hand in gratitude.

After all this he trotted, this time slowly, down again and filled another glass with the same wet stuff and gulped it down.

“So much for waking up Georgia,” he thought, and what now? Having not the slightest idea of what to do now, he walked up to take her two hours duty time, when he saw Georgia standing there.

Herbert was stunned and asked:

“Where are you coming from?”

“From sleeping, where else,” she replied.

Now he asked the most idiotic question of this century, (the 20th!)

“It was you there in U 4 L?”

“Who else?” she asked.

He confessed: “I saw myself already standing in the unemployment line, because I grabbed a lady, there,” he pointed at Georgia’s décolleté.

“What do you mean, a lady? I am not a lady?” she asked grumbling.

“Of course you are a lady, I mean…” he stammered, but was stopped right then and there, when she said:

“Oh, stop and have a glass of that foamy stuff you brought me there in my four-poster, and while you are at it, get me also one.”

Herbert obediently did what he was instructed to do and trotted down to the basement, (as the crew, jokingly, called the lower deck,) where the Moët was still standing there on the counter, bubbling happily, waiting for customers.

While he was climbing the stairs with the two glasses, he relived the previous hasty ascent with the disgusting result. This time, he was careful not to duplicate his clumsiness.

He asked himself:

“My God, where did I get myself into? I had no idea this job would be like this!”

(He found out, on his next trip, this was not the norm!)

Georgia took one flute out of his hand, said: “Skol!” took a sip, and twinkled at him.

“What now?” He became a complete question mark.

It was nothing but a colleague’s gesture. She pointed at his glass and said:

“Drink my friend and hurry up to get into the cradle, which I have warmed up for you. Go ahead before it cools down. Dream something beautiful, in two hours you will be awakened.”

She was not kidding, it was snugly warm and the fragrance of her perfume was still present. It is not an easy task to get undressed lying down, but sleeping all dressed up is ludicrous, and how does it look to have a wrinkled uniform the next morning? Holders for shoes and attire were provided. He cuddled himself into a comfortable position and did not forget to put the seat belt on. Not to put another crew member, who has to wake him up, through the same undertaking to get hold of a private body part?

Here now the situation with the upper berth, as promised earlier, of what took place during the night:

Not everybody would use the call button, to summon the ladder, to get in or out of those upper beds, to take their midnight scroll to the bathroom. They rather test their athletic capability to master the challenge without it. When they for the first time climbed up there, it was so easy. First, step on the armrest of the passenger who occupies the seat right under the bed. Get the upper torso into the bedframe, lift one leg up there, and roll further in there while pulling up the other leg. There, you see it is child’s play. Consequently it must be equally easy to reverse this exercise. Again:

“IT AIN’T NECESSARILY SO!”

Turn on your belly, let the legs dangle down until you feel the armrest with your feet, stand on it and step down. Not so fast, because when the legs hang down to find the armrest of the individual down there, most likely being asleep. The head, where the eyes are, is buried up there in the dark, most likely, in a pillow. Not every climber is so lucky to hit this armrest and might wind up on the belly of this unfortunate sleeper down there. Or missing the target altogether. Hanging in midair, literately, between heaven and earth, if that’s the correct expression? Most likely, however, hanging between heaven and ocean, with about seven miles of nothingness amongst those two components.

After some struggling and peddling, the goal of stability will be reached and this happy soul is on its way to the WC.

Since no one in his/her right mind would get dressed for such a mission, the following will transpire:

Whatever people will wear up there, for the night, when one slides over any edge, on his belly, the cloth will get stuck up there and the legs get exposed. Not too bad, if this is an experienced upper bed user. All the others will show legs. In a case of a female, trying to get quietly down from up there, the guy sitting underneath, might get some show at close range, if he is awake, or will be awakened by the stirring. The spectacle will continue, in case this lady is having a flimsy something on. She will walk to the Ladies’ room. (Yes, girls and boys had separate accommodations even with a washroom next to it.) Little dim nightlights along the floor make all gowns see-through garments, impressively!

Blinded by the bright light in the restroom, stepping into the dark cabin on her way back, she stopped to give her eyes time to get adjusted. For the man she woke up on her way down she looked to him like the “Venus de Milo,” only this one had arms and moved slightly. As soon as she could focus somewhat she moved quickly to her bed. Stepped on the armrest, grabbed inside and swung her leg up at the same time, only to realize a person was in there. A man, to her bewilderment was in there. This one jumped up from the sudden assault, still half asleep:

“What’s going on?” he mumbled.

At the same time, she hissed at him:

“What are you doing there in my bed?”

A voice next to her head whispered:

“Lady, your bed is one more further back!”

It was the man who had enjoyed the show all along. He acted as a rescuer to a lady in distress.

She whispered an excuse to the man she had so rudely disturbed and a thank-you to her champion. With an elegant motion, like a gymnast, she disappeared into her now correct crib. Only moments later, her savior heard a sobbing, coming from her cubicle. He got up and went close to the drapery and with a low voice inquired if she needed some help. When she showed her face, he could see tears running down her cheeks. He felt a surge of pity for her, only to realize these were the water works from laughing, which she tried unsuccessful to dampen.

There is another compartment on this airplane, worthy to be mentioned.

On the lower deck, next to the bar, is a door leading to an additional cargo hold.

The liquor kits are also stored there, under lock and key. Most important however, an emergency door is also located there, which could be opened from the in- or outside. On the ground, when the airplane is standing still, of course!

Many captains insisted this door to be operated by each crew member, as part of the emergency briefing. It was not an easy task. This door had the hinges on the bottom and folded outwards, like the back flap on grandpa’s winter long-legged underwear. To stop this door from free falling, a wire was attached connected to a winch with a handle to be cranked for opening and closing this heavy mechanism. The handlebar had to be held firmly with on hand, while the other hand had to release the locking device. A stable position was essential and was achieved by having a leg high up against the wall. No problem for the men! The girls however had to pull up their skirts, to get the leg high enough. Striptease! So the whole crew could check what kind of panties they are wearing. If the leg was not planted in this position, one would fly out with the door, guaranteed! To close this monster again, the handle had to be cranked in the opposite direction. Shallow steps were attached to this sort of a trap door to become a little stairway. In the open position the door reached almost the ground. This exit was many times utilized by the flight engineer. Passengers at the window seats were alarmed when they spotted him walking around there close to the whirling propellers. Some last checks had, sometimes, to be made, before takeoff. This was the only aircraft type, at this time, having this ability. All others had to return to the gate to complete such an undertaking.

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