F-86d Sabredog For Jhm!

[Brian da Basher]

Mr Howling Mouse that's gotta be one of the most amazing examples of weathering I've ever seen! She certainly looks every bit the "recycled" bird. It might be cool to see some faded-out left-over markings from the previous owner. No matter what your next update brings, it's a treat to see such excellent work!

Brian da Basher

[John Howling Mouse]

It might be cool to see some faded-out left-over markings from the previous owner.

Yeah, NOW you come up with that (great) idea!  

 

[anthonyp]

Holy...

That is one nice weathering job!

Ain't taking up knitting because of this build, rather, Snap-tite kits!  Yep, back to the basics!

Nice job, Baz!

   

[Mossie]

Love the bent pitot Baz!  Sometimes it's the little things that make a model.

Masai???  

[John Howling Mouse]

It's done and so is the backstory.  Just waiting for decent weather and time to take some outdoor pics.  I think I will paint up a backdrop for some simple "scenery."

[Sisko]

Just saw the hand painted markings!!!

Awesome man. B)  

[Mossie]

Woo hoo! Can't wait for those pics Baz! Aretheyreadyyet aretheyreadyyet aretheyreadyyet aretheyreadyyet aretheyreadyyet??  

[John Howling Mouse]

It wasn't the incredibly dry heat of the savannah that bothered Flight Lieutenant Edem Asquao.  It was the stubbornness of the endless flies that got to him.  Like Edem, the spiteful flies had also sought the relative comfort provided by the broad wings of the aircraft under which he had been resting.  And they were decidedly carnivorous.  There was no escape except to relinquish his desirable position in the precious shade under his aircraft's wings.

"His aircraft" he thought with an inner grin as he pulled his wiry frame off the rough tarmac.  Hell, long before he had ever laid eyes on it, this airplane had already known more owners than a busy brothel has patrons.  Still, it was his name painted with more than a meager hint of pride under the cockpit rails.

Edem retrieved the French novel he had been reading while resting against the landing gear strut and squat-walked out from under the shadow of the F-86―

―And was instantly assaulted by every cliché about African heat one could possibly imagine.

With a bit of guilt, Edem had to admit that his recent years spent studying in France had definitely lessened his native tolerance of Upper Volta's relentless heat during the drought season.  For a moment, Edem wondered why he had ever returned.

A glance back at the enduring fighter aircraft bearing his name was all the reminder he needed.

The complex tribal-political embers that had always defined Upper Volta had recently ignited into a growing series of full-blown brush-fires.  With Lamizana's military coupe, the new State now seeking fleeting stability at its national level was actually more plagued than ever by internal sectarian and tribal tensions.

The eldest of a middle-class landowner's three sons, Edem had been blessed with the good fortune of schooling abroad with the intent for him to succeed his aging father in running the family's widespread agricultural enterprises.  He had been enrolled at Ecole Superieure de Commerce de Paris in order to study business.

Like so many others, a chance orientation flight in a tiny private airplane transformed a prior casual, general interest in aviation into a sudden, life-affirming realization for Edem: he had been born to fly!  Certainly, he had enjoyed his first airline flight from Africa to France but that had been nothing compared to the exhilaration of actually having an aircraft respond to his own will.  Suddenly, nothing else in his life held any comparable meaning to the irresistible thrill of flying an aircraft under his own control.  Horrified by his son's inexplicable change of plans, the chastising from Edem's father had been swift and painful, to be sure, but it had also seemed somewhat diluted by the sheer distance involved between France and West Africa.  Besides,  the compelling attraction to anything with wings was truly both overwhelming and inescapable.  Just before his furious father could withdraw all financial support, Edem cleverly managed to transfer his former business university tuition to the Ecole Nationale de l'Aviation Civile and his race to the skies began.

A gifted and eager student, Edem soon soloed and was already working on the beginnings of a promising, if modest, aviation career path when events at home suddenly erupted.  A sudden military coup staged by a cunning Lieutenant Colonel named Sangoulé Lamizana deposed Haute-Volta's troubled President Maurice Yaméogo.  Once again, Edem's homeland had been struck with political uncertainty, the kind which flung the many disparate tribal powerbrokers into a chaotic explosion of internal struggles ranging from singular gang hits to all-out brush-wars.

Edem would gladly have done his best to avoid becoming involved.  He could have easily chosen to ignore the growing unrest in his homeland.  After all, it wasn't as if the problems in Upper Volta were making frontpage headlines in his adopted nation of France.  However, when his brother contacted Edem to describe how Fulani insurgents had attacked Mossi tribal farms under the custody of the Asquao family, Edem knew it was time to return home.  To his surprise, his father was now more than eager to have Edem put his aviation training to use for the overall stability of the country.  It now seemed that running the family business could wait.  After all, if the nation continued to fall apart at the seams, there would be no family business to run.  With the speed found only in the pragmatic "Third World" way of life, Edem was fast-tracked through recruitment and basic training in Upper Volta's fledgling Armée de l'Air.  Within a month following his basic training completion, Edem's multi-engine commercial license was put to use flying the four military cargo Sherpas on lend-lease program with Ghana in Upper Volta's fledgling air force.

Then came word of the Força Aérea Portuguesa sending down a handful of their ex-USAF F-86F fighters to help stamp out growing tensions in Portuguese Guinea.  What the public knew was that some eight F-86F's alighted at an airbase in Côte d'Ivoire, destined for Portugeuse Guinea.  What the public did not know was that an international arms dealer had leveraged a further, private transaction involving five of the older F-86D Sabre Dog types.  Of questionable value to anyone else, the four aged but airworthy fighters and the single extra "parts" airframe were headed for an informal joint ownership by Ghana, Upper Volta, and Togo.

When Edem first heard of the fighter aircraft headed for his small country, he immediately made every effort to ensure his name would be among the lucky few selected to fly the Sabre Dogs.  Certainly not the sleek, cutting edge Mirages he had seen in France, by any means, but what a thrill it would be to strap on such a bird of prey and take to the sky!  

His heart still raced with the memory of first seeing his name on the ground school roster for the fighters.  In Ghana, Edem had been run through a head-spinning month's worth of check-flights in the MB-326, which flung him happily into the world of turbine engines, voracious fuel consumption and speed, fantastic speed!  Preparations specific to taming the Sabre Dog fighter, however, were extremely minimal compared with the training expectations of the West.  These consisted of a single technical specialist/test pilot on short-term secondment from Canadair (thank God he spoke French, albeit a very strange version of it!) who reviewed the scant operator's manuals and other documentation that had been delivered with the aircraft.  There had been no tandem cockpits in which to cautiously learn the many idiosyncrasies of the powerful fighters under the watchful eye of experienced instructor pilots.  No flight simulators or even training films.  Edem and his fellow pilots poured over the basic technical documents, carefully gleaning from the text the most critical instructions and warnings.

The rest was learned from airborne trial and error, including, sadly, the ultimate price when Flight Lieutenant Malcolm Akan's Sabre Dog sliced through a nasty, unexpected crosswind and cartwheeled off the runway at the Takoradi airbase in Ghana.

A distant but rising siren from across the rippling heat waves of Ouagadougou's airbase snapped Edem's focus back to the present.  He pulled on his flight gloves and was just running a loving hand over the battered old Sabre, performing visual preflight checks, when his motley groundcrew raced round a nearby hangar's corner in an ancient Citroën lorry.  Jumping out of the still-rolling vehicle, Edem's Crew Chief breathlessly described another brush-fire attack by Mande insurgents in an attempt to drive out neighboring Fulani tribe members.  This time, there had been innocent children attacked by grenade-lobbing guerillas.

Fools, Edem thought with a shake of his head.  In the chaos of this latest military coupe, all too many factions would eagerly do whatever it took to perpetuate ancient tribal feuds no one even understood anymore.  His own family had ties to multiple tribal backgrounds so he had never understood how these people thought.  They would rather burn down each other's crops and kill their neighbor's children than get with the times and stabilize Upper Volta so that their combined nation could be worth something more for all of their children one day.

Edem's boot swung onto the extended footstep to his cockpit and he pulled himself off the ground and against the body of his airplane.  As his loyal groundcrew repeated his own final checks, Edem smiled with a backward glance over the sweptwing expanse of his fighter.  She certainly showed her age: there wasn't a paint made that could withstand the blistering harmattan winds of the savannah during drought season and the aircraft's aluminum skin shone through every panel line.  Even at a glance, one could tell just how many times the groundcrew had attempted to touch-up the sunbleached paint that was constantly being worn down by low level ground attacks.  Upon her coat of heavily faded camouflage, the old bird nevertheless bore too the proud, hand-painted markings of a new air force.  Based on the flag of the new nation, a tribal shield in red, white and black symbolized the importance of uniting all three regions of Upper Volta.  Crossed spears in the insignia's background reminded all of the willingness to bring force to any who would seek to tear apart the struggling unity of the infant nation.

And, in recent months, there had been a definite build-up in the local arms race from all sides.  The torching of crops and small arms exchanges had escalated to RPG's, sniper attacks and, apparently, now worse in some regions.  Throwing grenades at children!  Having no idea what would be thrown up at himself this time, Flight Lieutenant Edem Asquao hauled himself up and into the waiting cockpit of his Sabre Dog.

Bolted to the belly of his aircraft was a somewhat crude-looking but highly effective 20 mm calibre minigun pod that would do his talking over the Cascades region this afternoon...

© 2007 Barry Snell



(More pics to come tomorrow when I can use outdoor lighting with my new, handpainted backdrop!)

[Daryl J.]

Oh man oh man!      That just works.


Daryl J.


PS:  What were the base components for the gunpod?    

[BlackOps]

Barry, I really liked this build before but the back story and new pic really bring it to life! Nice work on the backdrop, looking forward to seeing more pics!

I'm still amazed at the paintjob and the fact you hand paint your insignia      

[Brian da Basher]

Holy cow Mr Howling Mouse!!! Words just fail me! This is such a magnificent build and wonderful backstory I'm just speechless!

Except to say I can't wait to see more!

Brian da Basher

[Mossie]

Has no words.

Will try to find some tomorrow when less knackered.....!

[Eddie M.]

Very realistic! B)  Another masterpiece in your stable. You can almost smell the jet exhaust....
  Eddie  

[Chap]

Incredible work Barry! The model and the backstory are both very well done, great job yet again.

~Steve

[Rafael]

If I mention all the details that get my attention in this build, my post would be larger than the thread!!

It reminds me of some F-86s we have as gatekeepers in My City of Caracas and in Maracay. I wanted to post a photo of one of them, but got shooed away by the guards!!!

How realistic, Baz!!!

Rafa