So, given what we know about Sugarbuttons Bill, ya gotta think it went down something like this...
Bill and V29 (or someone very much like V29) are sitting at a table in a bar in Enterprise, Alabama, telling war storys. The TINS are flying so fast and hard the air has taken on an ochre tint... kinda like a dust storm, only... messier. Anyway, sitting at a table slightly behind them is a white-shirted, dark-pitted, greasy-haired, taped-glasses pocket-protector wearer with pimples, slipstick clipped to his belt. Yeah, an engineer.
Taking copious notes on his napkin, because he desperately wants to get the lingo down so he can sound like an insider on the flightline. Nope, couldn't be me - I was too young at this point. Besides, I'm not an engineer, however much the rest of the description may, or may not, fit.
Bill cocks his head towards the engineer and in a voce all sotto tells V29 (or someone much like V29) "Watch this!" Raising his voice, and maneuvering his hands to match his narrative, Bill sez, "Yeah, I got this from guys flying for the 11th ACR - they're out flying the border, when this new Rooshian bird comes up to 'em - a big brute of a beast, with wings, cannon, stacked drivers, and get this - it was a pusher! Yep - they hadda look twice, they said - thought the commie bassids were bringing in some kinda turbo-prop or something... but nope - it's a helo awright. Said it took off like a bat outta hell and scared 'em sober for 15 minutes!"
Bill checks out of the corner of his eye and Engineer-boy is scribbling furiously, reaching for his slipstick.
One year later...
It's all Bill's fault, I tell ya.
Oh, sure, this is the *official* story. But which one sounds more real?
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