Best. Job. Ever.

At a young stage in Aitor's life, a difficult choice had to be made. Given my nerdy fascination with all things military, I could either try to pursue a career in the Irish Defence Forces, or go into the heartless world of private sector capitalism.

In favour of a military career was that:

1) I could make things go KABLAMMO!

2) I might actually be taught how to fly - for free!

3) I might see a little of the world (in the Irish military, primarily Chad, Liberia and East Timor.)

4) Something else about serving the country, honourable career, protecting ideals yadda, yadda.

Against a military career was:

1) I would need to do some exercise.

2) Mean men would shout at me.

3) I get easily airsick, reducing the likelihood (somewhat) that I would get through flightschool.

4) You get much more cold, hard cash in the private sector.

I chose the path far more trodden, and left military service to those more heroic than I. Let them face the mean men who shout, I decided. I'm in it for the money.

Joke's on me now, it would seem, as I have realised that in Ireland, no one is paid well, least of all a young fella in a private company (you're lucky to have a job Aitor! Here, do more work- see, aren't you lucky!). Plus, I sometimes gaze wistfully upwards at the burning blue, wondering what might have been.

And when I found out about this company, well then I knew I had definitely gone wrong:

"E.C.A. answers the training needs of armed forces around the globe. This is possible thanks to the fielding of an integrated system that is composed of individual assets such as aircraft, drones, cruise missile simulators, ground based air defenses, radars, passive ELINT components and jamming complexes. The integration is obtained thanks to the resilient, fully off-road mobile, Command and Control, Communications, Counter-measures (C3CM) back bone"

That's right, boys and girls. Private sector Flanker pilots. Now, admittedly the website is a little corny, but it seems at least some of us get to combine the awesomeness of military aviation with the filthy lucre of private business.

On the other hand, you're probably going to spend your time training the air forces of despots. Still, no such thing as a free lunch, I suppose.

Per Ardua Ad LMAO!

Many of you will probably have already seen these pics, but, just in case you haven't, if you like hi-speed hi-jinks the following photos are worth a look. These photos come via the Daily Mail's website (I know, I know, why was I reading the Daily Wail?) and photographer Andy Chittock.
Imagine the scene: you're an aviation spotter sitting on the side of a hill in Wales, hoping, breath-baited, to catch a glimpse of those heroic young men and women of the RAF as they roar past in sleek grey machines, streaking through the quiet, mist-wreathed valleys of winter, proud descendants of those noble few of the summer of 1940. Your heart thumping in your chest, you hear a distant rumble: Round the bend in the valley zips a Tornado GR4, the RAF's premier, top-of-the-line strike aircraft (don't laugh, you bloody yanks!). Gleefully, you snap what pictures you can as this thoroughbred of the air flits past, two steely-nerved heroes (or heroines) in the cockpit. It's only when you get home and take a closer look at the photos that you see:

Sadly, there are rumours that, as the RAF's fast-jet crews are now showboating a little too much, the low level routes will be continuosly changed so as to keep keen-eyed plane spotters guessing, removing the audience for the jet jocks. Bloody civil servants.