Did I mention how I'm often asked what I think about the white trails behind the plane? Just as many are sure that the Earth is flat from here to Kosovo, and perhaps to the end of the world, that conquering the moon is a Hollywood hoax and that vaccination is dangerous for all children older than zero days, so they are convinced that we, the Serbs, are being poisoned with those heights releasing poisonous chemistry. I usually say, “Yeah, you're right. We pilots have a red button on the right side of the instrument panel that says Chemtrails, so we press it occasionally." Like homeopathic placebo fakes that make you feel better temporarily (and then, of course, you die of a disease you think you've cured), people will spend themselves just staring at airplane tracks in the sky. Mass hysteria is proven effective. It is hysteria that kills all living things. You can't kill the dead anyway, because they made an effort to become deceased in time.
If I already told you the above, I certainly did not tell you that becoming a pilot was easy and laborious. The most difficult thing for me at the beginning of my career was to prove to certain militant policemen that I was not a "circusman" who had wandered among the people without flaws or fear. Once I got over that first hurdle, everything was easier. You should know that most of the experienced pilots of that time had the burden of military drill on their backs, so they had trouble accepting these suspects out of nowhere - or, even worse, from the radio.
I loved being a flight instructor. Jat's Pilot Academy in Vršac was a very cosmopolitan place where, in parallel with Jat's classes, candidates for pilots from Angola, Turkey, Libya, India flocked, boys and some girls from national companies there (and sometimes the governments of those countries). sent for training in this institution with a high rating. I was proud to be a part of it.
Jat's Pilot Academy was at the same time a springboard for the final transition to the so-called. "big" JAT, read: on large passenger planes. In that transfer, my colleagues and I chose the "Boeing 727", the star of Jat's fleet at that time, a beautiful three-engine aircraft with 160 passenger seats, a spacious passenger and pilot cabin (we set a record on one summer flight from Tivat when a total of 12 people crowded into the cockpit ! – but please don't tell anyone about it 🙂 ). We have not repented. I personally spent the most beautiful moments on that very plane and, as every pilot who no longer flies often dreams of moments spent in the sky, that beautiful, white plane often comes to my dreams. Boeing 727.
I am particularly fascinated by the fact that on dreamy mornings I wake up (or at least open one eye) always at the same time: at the moment when the digital clock by my bed shows that it is seven hours and twenty-seven minutes.
Weird? How could it not be, when the display lights up for a whole minute: 7:27
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