Prose & Photography: Nathan Gingles

I thought I was cool. I thought I was calm. I thought I was collected. I had asked all the right questions with all the right people. I reached out to seasoned air-to-air veterans like Scott Slocum, Kedar Karmarkar and Steve Zimmermann who were gracious enough to share some of their tips and tricks. I poured over thousands of images from colleagues to help build different scenarios in my mind, memorizing the photos I wanted to emulate. My gear had been checked over and over again in what seemed like a thousand times. I replayed different scenarios in my mind for months (high angle shots, low angle shots, profile shots, head on shots, different shutter speeds). I daydreamed about this moment; hell, I even had real dreams about this moment. I had prepped my ass off for this moment. However, all that tedious preparation and “mental coolness” I thought I had was quickly sucked out of the open door of the Bonanza when the Messerschmitt Bf-109G-4 slid into position on our 5 o’clock.

It was absolutely surreal.

Rewind back a few hours before the flight. We had just finished getting our harnesses fitted and going over the safety briefing and emergency procedures. We had some time to kill before the sortie and the others had gone to wander around. I was left alone with Scott Slocum as he wrapped up his pre-flight on the Bonanza photoship and figured I would ask the legend himself for any tips for first timers. He spoke three simple words. Contrast, Color, Composition. 

I pondered those three words for a moment and thought to myself, that's it? Scott must have seen the puzzled look on my face, he quickly began to explain more about what he does to setup a shot (more on that in an upcoming interview with Scott). He told me one thing that I was blown away by: once he has the subject in position, he only takes two or three shots and moves on to the next shot he has planned. I pondered his advice for a few moments and thought to myself “only a couple of shots?” but was quickly distracted by the sounds of an AD-4 Skyraider firing up to go flying. I grabbed my camera and got into position to photograph the Skyraiders departure.

My first air-to-air sortie was to be an evening shoot with the Military Aviation Museum’s Messerschmitt Bf-109G-4. I had laid eyes on this magnificent machine earlier in the day, it was my first time seeing a 109 and I was beside myself. I spent quite some time alone in the hangar with the 109, familiarizing myself with different angles and aspects I wanted to try and capture. Every airframe has its “good side”, and just like portrait photography you want to capture the “good side”. I headed back out to the flight line as the sound of another warbird firing up caught my attention.

Much to my benefit, the Military Aviation Museum was abuzz with activity as they were preparing for the upcoming airshow Warbirds Over the Beach. Several planes and crews were knocking the dust off from the long winter on this fine May day. This helped to keep my mind off of the upcoming shoot and allowed me to get some much-needed panning practice in. This also made the day go by quickly and the next thing I knew it was time to head in for the safety brief. Scott led the brief and discussed the upcoming photo mission with Mike Spalding who would be piloting the 109. 

With a final check of the weather, it was go time! I found out I would be going up on the first photo flight and was elated to be paired up with the amazing photographer Brent Clark. One final check of gear and we suited up into our harnesses and headed out to the Bonanza. A lifelong dream was unfolding before my eyes. We strapped ourselves into the Bonanza; I put my game face on.

After liftoff, we could see the 109 quickly closing in behind us off of our 8 o’clock position as we made a slow left-hand turn waiting for him to join up to us on the right side of the aircraft where the removed door of a Bonanza is located. I did one last check of the camera settings as Scott’s advice echoed in my head “Contrast, Color, Composition. Take a few shots and move onto the next one.” The next few moments will forever be ingrained in my mind and reflecting upon it as I write this induces a large grin and a sense of euphoria. 

The 109 disappeared from our view for what seemed like an eternity as it slid from the left side of the Bonanza to the right side where it came into view: it was an absolutely breathtaking sight. This was the exact moment where everything I had studied and meticulously planned for vanished right out that open door of the Bonanza. Tunnel vision set in and I lost all my collected coolness. The three C’s Scott had talked about went completely absent from my mind as I quickly raised my camera up, mashed the shutter button down and began a relentless onslaught of image taking. 

Switching between one camera to the other as the buffers filled, I felt like a soldier emptying his magazine on full auto until the barrel overheated on his weapon only to switch to the next gun and begin the process all over again. My eye was glued to the viewfinder only pulling it away to glance at the back of the camera to make sure it was still working and that this was actually real. The fifteen minutes we spent dancing in the sky photographing the 109 went by in what seemed like an instant, after which it was time to return to the beautiful grass field of the Military Aviation Museum. This may seem like a sad moment, but it was the complete opposite. As I sat my overheated and smoking camera down, pure joy overcame me as the realization of what just happened quickly sank in. 

Upon landing we quickly unhooked from the safety lanyards connected to our harnesses and handed them to the next photographers for their sortie. Brent and I walked over to the ramp where the others were gathered, I felt as if I were walking on air. Being the “new guy”, they were all eager to know how it went and what I thought of my “first time”. As if the giant, shit-eating grin didn’t give it away, I indulged them and didn’t even try to play it off as no big deal, I let the giddy little kid in a candy store come out full blown. 

After all the sorties for the evening were done and the aircraft were tucked away for the night, we gathered at a local restaurant for dinner and a celebratory drink. I was surrounded by some of the best in the business at this table and just remember thinking how awesome it was to be surrounded by people who share the love of aviation and photography. Me being the apprentice, I sat quietly, intently listening to the conversations being had and learning all I could from my mentors. The conversation turned to the Bf-109 we had just photographed, and everyone began talking about how you could hear the unmistakable whine of the DB605’s supercharger as it pulled up next to the Bonanza. 

I was asked what I thought about the sound, I drew a blank. It was at this point I realized just how much I had sensory overload and how all my senses other than my sight had shut down, I became so focused on one thing I didn’t remember anything else other than my view through my camera. I explained this and replied to the question, “I didn’t hear shit” which got a good laugh out of everyone. Good food and drinks were had with good company, but it was quickly off to bed to catch a few hours of sleep as we had to be up before dawn for the next sortie. 

The alarm seemed to go off as soon as I my head hit the pillow. Nothing was going to slow me down this morning as I was headed back out to the Military Aviation Museum to do another air-to-air session, this time with the Hawker Hurricane, and later in the day with the Junkers JU-52. 

After a quick brief, I found myself strapped back in the Bonanza departing the grass strip once again on this cool spring morning. The Hurricane joined up to us in the same fashion as the 109 and the excitement of seeing it appear was no less than the first time, my grin instantly reappeared. However, this time was different. I was aware of my surroundings. The spring morning air was crisp and refreshing and I could hear everything. I was realizing and executing the three C’s on this mission and it was amazing. I wasn’t “spraying and praying” this time, every press of the shutter was a thought-out process. I didn’t think anything could surpass the pure excitement of my first air-to-air, but having all my senses about me on the second one made it that much more amazing. 

I wanted to go back to the hotel and take a nap so bad after the flight with the Hurricane. There was so much to see and do at the museum however, so I stayed all day as I knew I would not forgive myself had I left. It turned out to be an excellent decision. I spent the day surrounded by an entire airfield that felt as if it was pulled from my dreams and built just for me. Once again the time flew by and it was time for the last flight, this time with a Junkers JU-52 “Auntie Ju”.

It was on this flight that I made my biggest mistake. Previously I had taken with me two cameras, one a full frame with a 70-200 lens and the other an APS-C with a 28-105. Given the size of the JU-52 I decided to just go with the FF camera with the 28-105 and leave the other one behind. I figured this would give me plenty of coverage for the larger aircraft and that I wouldn’t need the extra reach of the 70-200, several other members of the group agreed so I just went with the one camera setup. 

Well it turned out that tucking a big, slow and cumbersome beast such as the JU-52 into a somewhat tight formation with the Bonanza was not quite as easy as everyone had anticipated. For most of the flight we wound up flying at what seemed like a mile away from the “Auntie Ju” and this really stretched the reach of the 28-105 I was shooting with. I struggled with it for a brief moment but then I remembered where I was. I was in the back of a Bonanza flying over the beautiful beaches of Virginia doing an air-to-air with the only flying JU-52 in North America, after that nothing else seemed to matter.