http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WTLGsEErWJY
I highly doubt for some obvious reason that the video is real, but its still pretty funny. A friend passed it along to me.
Never Stand On A Beach Behind A Jet
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- brunota2003
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- brunota2003
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The airport is SXM, Saint Maarten. The beach is known as Maho beach and is a popular tourist attraction. Take a look at these shots for more-
http://www.jetphotos.net/viewphoto.php?id=548921
*Edited by GD to remove nudity link*
http://www.jetphotos.net/viewphoto.php?id=548921

*Edited by GD to remove nudity link*
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Idiotic. This has got to be destroying the people's hearing. When I was in the USAF as a crew chief, we wore ear plugs with the big ear defender headsets on top of that. With an engine on the B52H up to about seventy percent thrust, you could yell your head off and not hear a peep of yourself even in your own head, through the bones!
I have a thrust story, too. I was a greenie airman, on a Roam Team in South Dakota during the winter (Ellsworth AFB). We had a '52 turning onto it's spot, just back from a "Elephant Walk" - what we called it when the Alert Bombers scrambled and then rolled in a line out to the runway. If they had ever launched, it would have meant war. In these exercises, the crews would come running out, we'd get the planes hot and rolling. At the last second, the lead plane would turn off and the line would loop back for a session of fast-paced parking and resetting for continued readiness. So here I am, awed by the spectacle of these planes coming in, and I walked along, ducked under the wing of our plane as it turned to park. I exited right under the engine that was running. In an instant I was a human hockey puck, sliding facedown about twenty feet across the frozen pad. My buddies ran over and were smacking me on the head. I thought that they were goofing with me, but it turned out that the nylon shell of the hat I was wearing was melted and smoking. Other than a sudden very wam scalp and some scratches, I was fine. But wiser.
I have a thrust story, too. I was a greenie airman, on a Roam Team in South Dakota during the winter (Ellsworth AFB). We had a '52 turning onto it's spot, just back from a "Elephant Walk" - what we called it when the Alert Bombers scrambled and then rolled in a line out to the runway. If they had ever launched, it would have meant war. In these exercises, the crews would come running out, we'd get the planes hot and rolling. At the last second, the lead plane would turn off and the line would loop back for a session of fast-paced parking and resetting for continued readiness. So here I am, awed by the spectacle of these planes coming in, and I walked along, ducked under the wing of our plane as it turned to park. I exited right under the engine that was running. In an instant I was a human hockey puck, sliding facedown about twenty feet across the frozen pad. My buddies ran over and were smacking me on the head. I thought that they were goofing with me, but it turned out that the nylon shell of the hat I was wearing was melted and smoking. Other than a sudden very wam scalp and some scratches, I was fine. But wiser.

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