At a prearranged coordinate, Ty banked the Buff to the left toward Tennessee. When they had obtained high altitude once again, the entire crew seemed to give a collective sigh of relief. Guns busily heated coffee, which he had carried aboard in a five-gallon dispenser. Erin unstrapped herself and distributed the coffee to the pilots, then to the men on the lower deck. Ray gave her a broad grin and a thumbs-up when she arrived at the lower deck. He and John were wearing their helmets. Erin pressed the intercom button. “Is this why both you guys have thinning hair?” John grinned. “Because we wear these helmets all the time?” She nodded. “Don’t they get awfully heavy?” “Nah,” came the EWO’s voice over the intercom. “It keeps their swelled heads in line.” The entire crew broke into snickers over the intercom and Ray turned red. Erin couldn’t help laughing, too. She noticed that it was quite a bit rougher down on this deck. “Don’t you get sick down here? It’s so dark and cramped.
