Marines take recruitment to the skies

A tiny plane sputters and hums down the Monroe County Airport runway, slowly and shakily propelling itself off the ground and into a flawless blue sky. It cruises by a trailer containing Marine Officers and IU marine recruits, waiting patiently for their turn to steer the Piper Navajo Chieftain.\nThe Marine Corps hold flying sessions once a semester in an effort to recruit students. \nThe inside waiting room smells of freshly-brewed coffee and is decorated with a Marines display, model airplanes and a table full of aviation-related reading material.\nThe two officers running the show wore crisp, impeccably pressed military uniforms.\nJuniors Max Frank and Joe Kirkendall were present. Frank has already flown with the Marines three times and was "just along for the ride." Kirkendall went as a replacement for a buddy who bailed on Frank earlier in the morning. He said later he would regret his decision to go flying.\nSergeant Matthew Scotten, a marketing and public affairs representative, was there to do an article for the Marines, not to take a flying lesson.\n"I hope they don't make me fly," Scotten said. "I'm better at driving a bumper car. Actually, I've wrecked a bumper car before."\nBefore students and civilians can get near the plane, they are required to sign a "crash and burn" form agreeing to absolve the U.S. government and Marine Corps from responsibility in case of injury or death. The form also asks people to list "next of kin."\nThe first batch of students landed safely and without having to contact any kin.\nSenior Brett Taylor was a part of the group. Taylor, who is 6-foot-8 and weighs 250 pounds, has to drop 20 pounds to be an aviator because he is currently too heavy for the ejection device to work properly. \nThe plane is barely larger than a Chevrolet Suburban. It fits seven people and has to maintain a crucial balance of weight or it could tip over or flip backwards. \nThe door lock is a sliding metal latch similar to those found on a bathroom stall.\nWhen the second group went up, the pilot circled Lake Monroe and pointed out John Mellencamp's house. \nHe also cruised over the IU campus where it was noted that even from a distant aerial view, IU is huge. If any students think the long walk is just an illusion -- it's not.\nCapt. Ken Asbridge, free and clear of legal action because of the waiver, decided it would be amusing to demonstrate zero gravity -- three times. Zero gravity is a rapidly dropping altitude which makes a person weightless and causes his or her stomach to leap into the throat. \nIt's for instances like these that "convenience bags" are provided for "motion sickness or urine disposal" -- a euphemism for barf bag.\nAfter the second drop, Kirkendall began turning an unusual shade of pale green and his hair became plastered with the beads of perspiration accumulating on his forehead. \n"I'm seriously not feeling that great," he said. "Where are those bags, just in case?" \nFor the rest of the flight, he remained poised over the plastic bag. He said he still had fun though. He was even good-humored enough to endure the last zero gravity by making his barf bag suspend in front of him while a fellow passenger photographed it.\nBack on the ground, slightly nauseous but still intact, students were given a little tour of a flight simulator in the back room. The simulator is a little compartment with a steering column and an assortment of dashboard dials for recruits to practice flying. A nearby contraption charted their imaginary path in red ink. \nTaylor had a lot of squiggles on his chart as he flew an indeterminable path to an unknown destination. But he said he was happy to have more than an inch of headroom and to get an opportunity to fly faux and real planes for the Marines.\n"I've wanted to be a marine ever since I was a little kid," Taylor said. "My father was a marine. I'll be fourth generation military. It would be cool to fly. I really want to be in the infantry, but I'll serve any way I can"