THC 015 - C-119 "Norwegian Wood"

(Home base: Buttonvile (CYKZ), Ontario, Canada. Chief pilot: Sir Tim "old Troll")

THE NORWEGIAN WOOD ACQUISITION STORY

Deep in the woods above the falls at Vemork where the heavy water plant was situated during the Second World War lived a strange Old Norwegian. He kept to himself, shunning the Society of all others and therefore was largely unknown. In fact, so seldom was he seen that on those rare occasions when he did come into the village for some needed provision, his appearance provoked much talk, curiosity and speculation. He was a mystery. It's the human condition to fear the unknown and no one knew anything about this man. The locals call him Looney Lars, and most feared him. Oh, there were a few who had great respect for him and some even owed him their very lives. Others hated him with a passion but mostly, people just feared him.
What did he do to elicit such extreme emotions? Well, it seems he had taken to husbanding the surrounding area, appearing out of nowhere, striking fear into the hearts of those who transgressed his code of behavior while in his territory. Abusers, be they corporate or individual are not tolerated. The moment they litter, destroy or in any way mar the beauty of his woods they can expect a visit from Looney Lars, and it's never pleasant. Those who do meet Lars under such circumstances rarely return.

On the other side of the coin, he has come to the aid of many unfortunates who found themselves lost or injured. The local constabulary have long since given up trying to find him, as he always manages to elude them. Instead they let him be. Even when filing a report given by some irate tourist who insists the police take this loony to task for scaring the life out of them, the officers know who the real transgressor is and the report inevitably ends up in the unsolved file.

What's all this got to do the acquisition of a C-119? Patience... I'm getting there.

Now it seems that a friend of Captain Mike Now it seems that a friend of Captain Skybuster, one Michel Verheughe and his beloved wife Britt often visit this very same area and when they do, they stay at her family cabin above the falls of the head of Rjukan Valley. One particularly cold, beautiful day Michel strapped on the skis and glided off into his treasured woods. He hadn't gone far from the cabin when the wind got up and began to whip the snow into blinding whiteouts, lasting brief seconds to seemingly interminable minutes. Knowing the dangers of such conditions, Michel turned back toward the cabin. Along the path he crossed a set of nearly obliterated ski tracks. Assuming them to be his own, he slipped into them and began tracking home. What he wasn't immediately aware of was that these tracks were not made by him and were in fact, leading toward a very dangerous precipice. Just then, the wind abruptly stilled and Michel recognizing his error, turned to retrace his track.

Then he heard it... a weak call for help. Michel turned back and quickly located the source. The tracks ended where the snow crust had given way and there, about 3 m below, lay a human form. Michel called out. In answer, the face of a rugged man turned and looked up. An experienced outbacker, Michel never left the cabin with his backpack of emergency gear. From this pack he fetched a stout coil of climbing rope and quickly lowered himself to the ledge to below. The fall had badly stressed the man's knee and hip but nothing appeared broken. With levelheaded ingenuity, Michel succeeded in getting the man back to the top. Using the man's skis as runners, Michel jury rigged a sled and hauled his charge to the safety and warmth of the cabin. Once inside, he and wife Britt set about making their patient comfortable. The man slept.
Next morning Michel and Britt awoke to find their guest awake and rather ungracious. He demanded to know where his belongings were and insisted that he must leave. Britt protested that they really should take him to the hospital. He adamantly refused and insisted instead that he must go. Michel laid a stilling hand on Britt's shoulder and shook his head.

" You’re the one locals call Looney Lars, aren't you?" he asked.

"Bunch of stupid peasants!" was the muttered reply. "Give me a hand back to my place, won't you? I'll be fine on my own and don't you fret miss, old Nils Larsen can look out for himself. Thank you for your kindness. Well Sonny... you gonna help me or not?" he growled.

On his return Michel told Britt of how the old man had sworn him to secrecy before he would allow him to even so much as take a single step. "He directed me “He directed me on such a circuitous route that at times I got quite turned around, not at all sure of my direction. But, he did apologize and explain that he wanted no intruders into his secret world."

Larsen was, as far as Michel could gather, a very intelligent scientist, inventor, environmentalist who gave it all up as a result of some personal epiphany. What that was he never said. At a rate, the man had made his home in the fuselage of an ill-fated flying boxcar that had crashed in the Norwegian woods years before. It was his home and provided all that he required.


Some years passed. The old man sent word to Michel that he could feel free to recover the C-119 if he felt so inclined. Michel retold this remarkable story to his good friend Captain Skybuster and when he showed keen interest in recovering the plane Michel gave him his blessing and showed him where it was to be found. Captain Skybuster spared no expense to recover this cherished relic. He invested many long hours of his personal time and much of his personal fortune in restoring the once great lady to operational status.
What I am about to reveal to you will shake your belief system to its very foundation. But I swear it to be completely true. What's your impression of Captain Mike Skybuster? Let me tell you my first impression and see if yours doesn't match. He is a man of much bravado with a penchant for smoking things of questionable substance, likes the ladies and relishes the taste of poached lobster. He has a cavalier attitude and likes to wear pink silk undies but you can always count on him in a dire situation. He also has a thing for a certain barrel.
Now, a side to our Captain Mike that I am sure few ever imagined... he is generous to a fault. And this is how I, Captain Troll, came to be pilot in command of the Norwegian Wood. After all his time expense and effort he simply gave the plane to me. Out of friendship, an honour I shall never be able to repay.

Captain Tim