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“Bingo” More than mere WonderDog 
It was not often that the these clean cut Harrier Fighter Pilots, looking all 
the more as if freshly minted, got the chance, nay the privilege, to observe in 
the truest sense what vertical takeoff could mean. 
A “good” takeoff in the harrier, even the MARK II version, was a heaving 
groaning affair with little style or grace. To Get MAX power out of the beast 
the turbine blades in the engine were spun up to Redline as the fuel flow was 
increased. At this point the Ship vibrated and the jet exhaust nozzles emitted 
the occasional darker patch of smoke. It was caused by an intermittent rich 
running condition, which was a shared design flaw in the second-generation jump 
jet. This occurred mainly after startup and at low altitude as the Jet-A 
kerosene fuel burned rich to form a stinkin’ kerosene sweet cloud that enveloped 
the jet and the ground crew trying their best to avoid this unpleasant tornado 
of hot swirling stinky air that formed the column rushing fast and dense enough 
down to propel the Harrier up and away as it rotated the thrust vectoring 
nozzles back and transitioned rapidly to full foreword flight. 
It took skill to achieve a vertical take-off in a Harrier and so those that 
flew her saw this jet as sexy, graceful, and defining what was possible in the 
way of vertical takeoff. 
At least up until now, today that is, this was the view they had cherished 
and held so warmly. 
This day would shake up their convictions and let them know there were other 
forces at work out there in the universe which lay in wait to snare the 
unsuspecting. For if one were to get too cocky and fail to keep an open mind 
about what is what is not possible. Then a Dog such as the one they were about 
to meet named Bingo might really blow your mind. 
Bingo was a dog and a pretty darn cool operator ‘if ya’ know what I mean’. On 
this particular day He and Giles, his human buddy, were at a park near the 
Pensacola base just hanging out with the three undergrad. Female babes that 
Giles was helping out with their math and as luck would have it their anatomy 
also. 
Bingo jumped then, as only he was capable of. For no vitally important 
reason, perhaps to grab something from Giles outstretched arm like a stick or 
ball of original bound copies of Copernican theory they liked to toss about. 
That leap, that jump, that whatever it was cuz’ words don’t neatly fit here, 
no not in this case. With no foreword velocity to use as kinetic energy 
re-directed upward as the Brits’ do with their ski ramps on the bows of their 
aircraft carriers that operate the harrier off the deck. With none of that, with 
no J.A.T.O. Belt [jet assisted takeoff], no dang rocket pods, no additional 
energy of any kind. No nuthin’ but what he had stored up in