Skip to main content

The Sound of Freedom

F-35B Lighting
How do you duplicate the deafening roar of the U.S. Marine Corps Aircraft F-35B Lighting in a blog post? Well, it’s simple just provide a link to a Lockheed Martin demonstration video of a vertical takeoff then amplify that sound ten-fold. Marine aviators call it, “The sound of freedom!”

If you attended this years MCAS Miramar air show you witnessed first hand the might of the U.S Military’s air defense capabilities. Since becoming a volunteer at the Flying Leatherneck Historical Foundation I’ve heard more combination of letters and numbers that represent a variety of tactical air defense machinery than I can mentally process. Let’s be honest, it’s as if the retired fighter pilots are speaking a different language. The only fighter jets I’m familiar with are the planes the U.S. Navy Blue Angels fly. You’ve seen them, they’re a beautiful blue with a bright yellow stripe on the under-side. Ok, I see you laughing at me.

As a recently elected board member of the foundation, allow me to be technically correct. “The Boeing F/A-18 Hornet is a multi-mission, high-performance jet designed for fighter/attack missions and is capable of easily reaching speeds in excess of 1,200 miles per hour. When battle ready, the Hornet can carry up to 17,000 pounds of armament, including a six-barrel 20mm canon, two Sparrow and Sidewinder missiles.” For a translation, stop by the museum and ask any docent, mostly former Marine pilots, to show you what they look like. The F-18 has been in service since 1983 and is the sole jet stationed at MCAS Miramar. Admittedly it’s of of my favorite aircraft, it’s sleek, very fast, and loud when it takes off. 

I arrived at the show Sunday morning and found my way to the Flying Leatherneck Museum display area near the flight-line. There among the swarm of people, I recognized retired Lieutenant Colonel Richard (Touch) Toettcher, our man in charge of volunteers at the foundation. He flew an A-4 Skyhawk in 1968 and served a tour with VMA-211 at Chu Lai, RVN. Don’t ask me to translate.

His first words to me were, “Have you seen the new F-35B?” My immediate thought was, Hummm, wonder what that is, it must be an airplane? Not wanting to sound like a complete idiot, I came back with the confident reply, “No, where is it?”

“Just over there,” he pointed east, “You can’t miss it.”

Wow - the new Lockheed Martin F-35B Lighting! I read the program; “For the first time in aviation history, the most lethal fighter characteristics - supersonic speed, radar-evading stealth, extreme agility and short takeoff/vertical landing capability (STOVL) - have been combined in a single platform; the F-35B. Protecting freedom and ensuring security in today’s battle space calls for an unprecedented aircraft.”

So I did what every freedom loving American civilian would do. Found the aircraft, stepped up to one of the Marine’s on duty and asked, “So, how much does this baby cost?”

Without flinching he said, “$252 million per aircraft, SIR! MCAS Miramar does not yet have them, we are stationed at MAG-13 MCAS Yuma, Arizona.” 

“Will they be flying this plane in today’s show?”

“Yes SIR! Lieutenant Colonel Steve Gillette will be demonstrating this aircraft’s capabilities later today.”  

“Thank you Marine for your service - Semper Fi!”

So without further delay I made my way to the Foundations Chalet on the flight line. Many mid-air demonstrations were already in progress. Most notably the AV-8B Harrier. You know the one, Arnold Schwarzenegger used this aircraft in the movie, True Lies, in 1994.

With a quick glance at the program, “The roar of the AV-8B Harrier can be heard throughout the flight line, and it is the sound of sheer power.” They’re not kidding, when this aircraft approaches it’s frighting. It comes in like a helicopter, hovers in midair about 50 feet above the runway, then slowly rotates 90 degrees to point it’s nose facing the grandstands. During it’s fly-by they simulate the sound of it’s weapons being discharged - I’m talking loud!

Oh, let’s not forgot the highlight of the show, the pinnacle of precision flying, the Blue Angels performance. I love to feel the ground shake, and hear that roar of power at takeoff. Immediately they effortlessly achieve the four-jet Diamond Formation, flying that beautiful blue F/A-18 Hornet!

The sound of freedom . . .

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

The Gopher Problem and the High Powered Solution

Vacationing in Maine this week, just a short drive down the coast from Freeport, it is hard not to think about the outsized impact one frustrated outdoorsman had on the gear we all use today. Bad equipment can ruin a perfectly good day on the water or the trail, but it takes a special kind of vision to turn cold feet into a century-old empire. This is the story of the company we now know as L.L.Bean, but more importantly, it is a masterclass in integrity, learning from failure, and standing behind your work. In 1912, Leon Leonwood Bean faced a persistent problem: returning from expeditions in the Maine woods with cold, wet feet. Instead of complaining, he got creative. He had a local shoemaker stitch waterproof rubber soles onto the flexible leather uppers of a hunting boot. He called it the Maine Hunting Shoe and mailed a flyer promising perfect satisfaction. Then reality arrived. Ninety of his first 100 pairs failed when the rubber separated from the leather. Not an effective product...

On Becoming Real

Some things get better with wear: old shoes, old friendships, and old books. Especially old books. A new volume arrives with crisp corners and a spine that hasn’t yet learned to bend. An old one has been somewhere. It has traveled through time in the hands of people who may no longer be around to tell us what they found inside. The copy of The Velveteen Rabbit (first published in 1922) on my desk is one of those books. My friend Don Hanley gave it to me. This late-1950s Doubleday edition features William Nicholson’s original illustrations and cream paper boards softened by age. Worn corners, a split spine, and colored tabs mark passages worth revisiting. Don didn’t hand me a keepsake. He gave me homework. When we talked about the book recently, he pointed me straight to the nursery conversation between a young rabbit and an old Skin Horse. The rabbit had noticed the mechanical toys around him—the ones with internal gears, bright paint, and stick-out handles that seem terribly impressiv...

A Dog, a Beer . . . and the Ghost of 1912

Whenever you step into an American cathedral of our National Pastime built before modern ergonomics, municipal zoning, or crowd-flow dynamics, an unspoken understanding forms, creating a welcoming, timeless atmosphere. You trade legroom, sensible corridors, and personal space for the privilege of communing with ghosts. Last week, Lori and I made our pilgrimage to Fenway Park to watch our Chicago Cubs take on the Boston Red Sox (a taut 0–2 contest that felt spiritually tied to their 1918 World Series meeting). Staying just across the Charles River at the Courtyard Marriott in Cambridge gave us one immeasurable tactical advantage: we walked. While the automotive gridlock around Kenmore Square took on the character of the Siege of Yorktown—horns echoing across the asphalt like musket fire—we simply strolled across the Boston University Bridge, enjoying the river breeze and feeling smugly superior to everyone trapped behind a steering wheel. Fenway, built in the spring of 1912, holds rough...

Paris – the End of Silence

✈️  In this special episode: Paris – the End of Silence Sometimes, connection arrives in the most unexpected form—not through grand gestures, but through a quiet voice carried by technology. In a Paris apartment, I finally understood my family’s words . . . and felt my mother’s presence in every sentence. Since I was a little boy, France has been both a beautiful and frustrating paradox in my life. Every six to nine years, my mother, Mauricette, would take my brothers and me back to La Rochelle to visit our French family. The moment we arrived, the air would fill with a sound I loved but couldn’t share in—the rapid-fire, musical rhythm of French. My aunts, uncles, and cousins would warmly sweep me into hugs and kisses, their words flowing like a lovely melody I couldn’t quite catch. I’d smile brightly, trying to communicate with my eyes and hands. But as soon as we stepped off the plane, my mother and her sister-in-law, Joséan, started talking animatedly. They were gone, chatting h...