One tiny landing zone: the Navy’s big case for an OLF
ABOARD THE THEODORE ROOSEVELT
The mission ends in the dark, alone. The pilot is on his radio, listening to his own breathing and to his colleagues safe and sound on the aircraft carrier deck, somewhere in the blackness before him.
He checks his instruments, trusting them to keep him out of the ocean below. Then a faint light appears, wavering in the night.
As he closes in, the light brightens and others appear, all so impossibly small, all moving away from him.
He’s talking to the landing signal officer on the deck now, adjusting his speed, altitude and position, rechecking his instruments.
The lights grow and take shape as the rectangular landing box materializes, still several miles ahead.
He squares up with the drop line of lights hanging off the carrier’s stern, levels his wings. Now he’s within a mile of the ship and he’s off his instruments, talking to the landing signal officer, watching the optical landing system to the left of the runway, tweaking his position as the plane sinks toward the sea.