<strong>HEINZ VON OBERAMMERGAU</strong><br/><br/>The skyhook landing was safe and uneventful, but gave me the jitters as it always did.<em>Gott in Himmel,</em>the feeling  of the flying freight train of pain lurching onto a rather thin looking steel coathanger, then the added wobble when I folded up the wings and felt the plane's balance change unsettlingly. I wasn't looking forward to being tossed overboard in my flying brick with them still folded up, but then again, it would prove a good opportunity for showmanship when I righted it from the probable resulting tailspin.<br/><br/>Safely winched aboard, I clambered out of the cockpit with my kit bag and clicked my spurred heels together with a sharp salute.<br/><br/><strong>"Good afternoon, Miss Lamarr, I trust the bottle was to your liking?"</strong>I greeted our leader with a bow, hinting only slightly at my need for a stiff drink after that gut-wrenching landing. Respectfully taking off my ornate helmet, I eyed the gentlemen's barracks and tossed bag and helmet on a bunk to claim my<em>Lebensraum,</em>then sat down in the rather cosy flight office. Packing a pipe to steady the nerves, I gave my opinion on the flight up here.<br/><br/><strong>"The trip here was a pleasant milkman-run. It was good to practice landing on the zeppelin without being shot at. May I be so bold as to ask where the ship is headed?"</strong>