“Damn you, Eunice.”
We’re battered, beaten, nose roughly twenty degrees to port. Final approach. Hopefully.
“Our Father, who art in heaven…”
Sit back, relax. Just keep your calm, no matter the weather.
Trust your instincts. Keep it steady. Keep it steady.
Wind shear. Feel it. Fight it. Keep it steady.
“Bring her down easy. You got this?”
I can do this.
“We can go-around if you need to.”
No. I’ve got this.
“Here we go.”
One, two, get the nose down, three, flaps. All down.
Perfect.
First bad weather landing, done.
“How ridiculous was that?”
“Damn you, Eunice.”