Groundhog Thread Part Deux - P-39 Fantasy and Fetish - The Never Ending Story (Mods take no responsibility for head against wall injuries sustained)

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I remember my first voyage to USA in early 1990s. Two pilots boarded in Chesapeake Bay. They spoke to me and my helmsman in "normal" English. One of them picked up his walkie talkie and gave orders in...well... "less English" (for my Russian ears). And then they talked to each other in some alien language and I was ready to burst into tears.
One year later I served on a small tanker which visited many ports in UK along the coast and in the Manchester Canal. That was another eye (ear?) opening experience. Pubs were the best language schools. A pint or two made the learning curve smoother.
:occasion5:
On the other side of the coin, driving across Saudi Arabia in a gas guzzling V8 van that needed filling up every 100-120 miles I was running out of fuel around Riyadh. Diverted off the main highway because of roadworks in a panic I pulled into an obviously disused petrol station. It had "ESSO" above it but all the pumps were gone and the whole place was derelict. Enjoying the evening sun was an old guy in a rocking chair. I said "Excuse me, do you speak English". He said "Of course old boy (I was 28), what is the problem" in perfect Oxford English. The guy had a degree in English FROM Oxford university, how he came to be sat in the sun in a wrecked petrol station in Saudi I have no idea. Anyway, he told me where I could get petrol and thats all that mattered at the time.
 
On the other side of the coin, driving across Saudi Arabia in a gas guzzling V8 van that needed filling up every 100-120 miles I was running out of fuel around Riyadh. Diverted off the main highway because of roadworks in a panic I pulled into an obviously disused petrol station. It had "ESSO" above it but all the pumps were gone and the whole place was derelict. Enjoying the evening sun was an old guy in a rocking chair. I said "Excuse me, do you speak English". He said "Of course old boy (I was 28), what is the problem" in perfect Oxford English. The guy had a degree in English FROM Oxford university, how he came to be sat in the sun in a wrecked petrol station in Saudi I have no idea. Anyway, he told me where I could get petrol and thats all that mattered at the time.

You and I are members of one club, at least: Those who've driven in Saudi and lived to tell the tale.
 
He didn't offer you tea and crumpets?
No but if his wife was there she may have. In the Salzgitter-Mannessman-Vallourec Vorschung (centre for German metallurgical research) in Duisberg, the boss was a completely bilingual female. When she was hectoring her employees in German she looked and sounded like a throwback to the Nazi era, when she spoke to me in English (I never let on I spoke German) she looked and sounded like a vicars wife at a tea party. It really was remarkable to see, not only the language but the mannerisms, her father was British Army and her mother was German landed gentry I found out in my time there. Edit I used to drive there from Rouen every second Friday for months to witness mechanical tests because the test house was "computerised" on the first day they made the biggest ff up I saw in my career.
 
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You and I are members of one club, at least: Those who've driven in Saudi and lived to tell the tale.

That makes three of us. First time was August 1990. They drive like f--k. We would be driving along and smell dead animal (really strong). We learned to floor it until you got past the wreck (camel walks in front of speeding vehicle, crash ensues, all is pushed to the side of the road and left to rot/rust/decompose). Spent a week in Riyadh in 94 working in the RSAF HQ. They would pass in the breakdown lane. We called it the Allah Lane, as only he protected you when using it. It was interesting to see to 12 year olds driving a car by themselves as well. The things that go on over there are not fit to be published.

Cheers,
Biff
 
I took four years of Spanish in high school and Mr. Martinez taught proper Castillian and told us of the various dialects from country to country. The only Spanish speaking people I have been able to converse with are those students who also took four years in high school, a very proper older lady who spoke to me in Spanish in a Spanish restaurant while I was explaining the menu to those with me. The only other time I completely understood, was a man scolding his son about his new shoes. The man turned out to be the Spanish Consul to New Orleans. Where my Spanish got me in trouble was in Russian class in the Air Force. The classroom rule was when we entered the room, only Russian could be spoken and during conversation with the instructor the guys would break out laughing. It turns out whenever I didn't know the Russian word, I would use the Spanish word. I have great respect for those who speak several languages.
 
That makes three of us. First time was August 1990. They drive like f--k. We would be driving along and smell dead animal (really strong). We learned to floor it until you got past the wreck (camel walks in front of speeding vehicle, crash ensues, all is pushed to the side of the road and left to rot/rust/decompose). Spent a week in Riyadh in 94 working in the RSAF HQ. They would pass in the breakdown lane. We called it the Allah Lane, as only he protected you when using it. It was interesting to see to 12 year olds driving a car by themselves as well. The things that go on over there are not fit to be published.

Cheers,
Biff

Yeah, "Allah's Lane" was a thing with us too -- I was there from Mar-Jul 92.

As firefighters we had been trained to pull over and render assistance to any emergency we saw in progress, on- or off-duty. But when we hit Riyadh, our indoc specifically stated that under no circumstances were we to do that, because, well, inshallah. Allegedly they gave Allah 30 minutes to decide, and who were we to mess with that?

I can't speak to whether or not that was true, or simple USAF misreading, or what. What I do know is that after driving the Circle of Death on the south side of the city, coming from Eskan Village where we were quartered, I felt like I could fly a brick through a hurricane. I look at these jerks in downtown Austin and think "you ain't got nothin' on me, pal," lol.
 
Yeah, "Allah's Lane" was a thing with us too -- I was there from Mar-Jul 92.

As firefighters we had been trained to pull over and render assistance to any emergency we saw in progress, on- or off-duty. But when we hit Riyadh, our indoc specifically stated that under no circumstances were we to do that, because, well, inshallah. Allegedly they gave Allah 30 minutes to decide, and who were we to mess with that?

I can't speak to whether or not that was true, or simple USAF misreading, or what. What I do know is that after driving the Circle of Death on the south side of the city, coming from Eskan Village where we were quartered, I felt like I could fly a brick through a hurricane. I look at these jerks in downtown Austin and think "you ain't got nothin' on me, pal," lol.

I lived with a bunch of USN NFO/WSO types while down there. We would leave to/from Eskan as a two ship, and pre-brief the Circle of Death as you call it. Someone would trap a guy on the inside of the round about, and the second car would support. After two or three laps I'm surprised the guy didn't have a coronary. Lots of unique hand gestures would be passed. The trapee never suspected two cars working tandem tactics. Yes, sometimes it's interesting to be the ugly American. Hats off to the Brits, as their roads were first class.
 
You and I are members of one club, at least: Those who've driven in Saudi and lived to tell the tale.
My daily "jaunt" in 1985-86 was on the old Abqaiq road. I turned off after a electricity station and drove across the desert for a few miles to the pipe mill. When it was dark you had Saudis driving on the wrong side of the road with no lights, they switched their lights on at the last second to scare the foreigners, sometimes they were a little late with the lights and added to the Abqaiq roads incredible statistics. Times have changed at the time road accidents were killing young male Saudis faster than they were being born.
 
My daily "jaunt" in 1985-86 was on the old Abqaiq road. I turned off after a electricity station and drove across the desert for a few miles to the pipe mill. When it was dark you had Saudis driving on the wrong side of the road with no lights, they switched their lights on at the last second to scare the foreigners, sometimes they were a little late with the lights and added to the Abqaiq roads incredible statistics. Times have changed at the time road accidents were killing young male Saudis faster than they were being born.

I don't know that I've driven that particular road, but I recognize the behaviors you describe.

I never drove in the dark over there, we only went into town during the day. But yeah, wreckage alongside the road was a regular thing.
 
I lived with a bunch of USN NFO/WSO types while down there. We would leave to/from Eskan as a two ship, and pre-brief the Circle of Death as you call it. Someone would trap a guy on the inside of the round about, and the second car would support. After two or three laps I'm surprised the guy didn't have a coronary. Lots of unique hand gestures would be passed. The trapee never suspected two cars working tandem tactics. Yes, sometimes it's interesting to be the ugly American. Hats off to the Brits, as their roads were first class.

lol, "thumbs up" from a Middle-Eastern driver ain't a compliment!
 
My grandad was from Sunderland and had a very strong accent, so much i struggled to understand him !
Mine was from South Shields and my generation was the first not to be born on Tyneside for a couple hundred years.

I've never driven in Saudi but by the sound of things it's very similar to Kuwait where I had a few operational detatchments supporting the southern no fly zone in Iraq. You counted the wreck bythe side of the road as you headed into Kuwait City on a down day.
 

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