Last week we went on vacation to my beautiful hometown of Pensacola, Florida to visit family, stay on the sugar white beaches, and eat excellent seafood. If it was relaxing is up for debate since we took a wiry two-year old with us. Nothing like a tantrum in the hotel lobby to start the day off right!
Having caught a nasty sunburn on my legs, we decided to lay off the beach for a day and head over to the Naval Aviation Museum. It’s a fantastic museum that’s grown since I was last there. Chocked full of planes from all the different wars, part of an aircraft carrier, a dirigible, and of course the famous Blue Angels. Seriously, this place is amazing and not to be missed!
That being said, wandering around looking at aircraft is cool, but also kinda boring for me. I appreciate them and what they were capable of during the wars, but I can’t stand there and read every single plaque. No, my favorite things were the exhibits of what life was like on the front lines, and the homefront. Buried behind a muddy officer’s hut blaring ‘It’s a Long Way From Tipperary’ was an ambulance. Or more accurately, a Dodge turned ambulance that could carry 4 litters or 10 walking men. Apparently, the donor actually drove it to the museum. I was pretty excited to find it. I’ve spent hours and hours pouring over books, reports, and old sepia pictures of these beauties to understand how they worked and looked, but there’s nothing like seeing it up close. Those things were tiny! I have no idea how 10 grown men could cram themselves in the back, much less survive bumping over rutted, muddy roads with those oh so skinny tires. I walked away with a much greater appreciation and deeper respect for those brave drivers.