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Flag of Burma.

Rangoon, Burma

Thursday, 21^st December 1995

     Today’s flight was special, for I would be returning to the country where I was conceived at the beginning of 1942;  when my folks were based at Chauk, north of Rangoon on the Irrawaddy River, in Burma.

     Historically, dear reader, many changes had occurred in Burma after 1942; most of it not good.

     In 1886 the British annexed Burma as a province of British India, and, until the war in 1941, under British rule the country enjoyed relative peace and prosperity.  That all changed with the Japanese invasion, and Burmese politicians jumping into bed with the Japs, thinking they could help oust the British and begin self-rule.  However, it eventually dawned on them that if the Japanese won, the Burmese were scheduled to be abused slaves of the Japanese Empire.  So the Burmese jumped back into bed with the British and helped to drive out the Japanese.

     In 1948 Burma was granted independence and the British left.  This was followed by decades of periods of intense civil wars keeping Burma in a state of destabilization.

     For the Burmese peoples’ sake, dear reader, too bad the Brits couldn’t have stayed.

     On 2nd March 1962, the military took control of Burma through a coup d'état.  Finally, in 1988, unrest over economic mismanagement and political oppression by the military led to widespread pro-democracy demonstrations throughout the country, called the “8888 Uprising”.  Security forces killed thousands of demonstrators.

     Then, in 1989, the military junta changed the names of the country and its capital city; without consulting the will of the Burmese people.  Therefore we pilots, and some newscasters, refuse to recognize these new names.

     Hence they won’t be mention here, dear reader, in this account.

     Thus the military junta’s “Burmese Way to Socialism” set the nation on a disastrous path of cultural, environmental and economic ruin.   Insurgency remained endemic among ethnic-minority rebel groups and, in many areas of Burma, armed struggle became a way of life.

     I’m so glad, dear reader, my parents didn’t live to see Burma’s current plight.  It would have broken their hearts.

     And so, with mixed emotions, I launched my 737 across the Mekong River into Thai airspace, as I climbed to 35,000 feet and took airway R-474 southwest to the Chum Phae VOR in Thailand.  At 88 NM (101.2 SM) out from Vientiane, I intercepted airway G-473, turning right to a west heading, and took it all the way across northern Thailand to Burmese airspace and the Bago VOR, which set me up for an intercept of the ILS to Runway Two-One at Rangoon International.

     One hour and ten minutes after leaving Vientiane, Laos, traveling 407 NM (468 SM), I touched down on the single runway running southwest by northeast (210°/030° magnetic) having a length of 8,104 feet.  

     The airport sat 9.3 miles north from central Rangoon, in the Mingaladon Township.  During World War II, the airfield was known as RAF Mingaladon, for it had several RAF fighter squadrons based there, plus the 1^st AVG Flying Tigers.

     Which made me wonder, dear reader, at how many times had Pappy Boyington landed on this very same runway?

     After their invasion of Burma, the Japanese took over Mingaladon Airport, and turned it into a bomber base.  Later, when the war ended and the Japanese were kicked out of Burma, the Calcutta Metropolitan Airports Authority rebuilt the airport, and in 1947 it was once regarded as the best in Southeast Asia.  In spite of this, over the decades this airport fell into disrepair.

     I found the runway to be okay, as was the taxiways, only the terminal and control tower were rundown dumps, with little in the way of ground or air activity; another ghost town. 

     Despite this, on the descent to the airport I discovered hundreds of large pagodas dotting the countryside; they were really quite beautiful, sparkling against green fields and jungle.  

     And they reminded me of what my mother told me of the great Shwedagon Pagoda, a massive gilded stupa at a height of 326 feet AGL that dominates the skyline of Rangoon.

     Rangoon is located at the convergence of the Rangoon and Bago Rivers, roughly 19 miles away from the Gulf of Martaban.  It also suffers from deeply inadequate infrastructure, especially compared to other major cities in Southeast Asia, and is hampered by military imposed curfews which doesn’t help Rangoon’s sad plight.

     Because of the military’s dictatorial iron boot approach to ruling the Burmese, dear reader, I was never tempted to explore Rangoon on my days off.  In addition, I’m pleased we spent barely an hour on the ground, for I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

     The highlight of this trip was the passage over northern Thailand on our return to Laos, at 33,000 feet.  Where, on a clear day, I could spot an utterly amazing, extinct volcano out my left side window.  It was in the perfect shape of a heart, and wholly overgrown with emerald-green jungle; truly spectacular.

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