Chapter 75: Remembering the Transport Plane
The most difficult aspects of restoring the P50 were, first, sourcing parts; second, repairing the FRP body; and finally, the mechanical disassembly and reassembly.
Fortunately, far more of its parts than expected were universal, which was a relief.
The problems were the model-specific piston rings and the generator known as a magneto.
The P50 did not have a battery for storing electricity. Instead, it continuously generated the electricity it needed using the small magneto attached to the engine.
If this were a replica, I would have installed a small battery and converted it to an electronic system...
But this was an original, with fewer than fifty remaining worldwide.
Moreover, I had been asked to restore it, so regardless of efficiency, the magneto was a core component that absolutely had to be replaced with a genuine part.
Fortunately, a British parts-restoration company had a rebuilt unit in stock, so I ordered it. The piston rings were impossible to source, so I resolved that problem through the Coin Market for 150 coins.
While we waited for the parts to arrive, Noah experienced FRP restoration for the first time. After enduring the endless hell of repeated layering and sanding, he shook his head and asked how I had possibly managed to work on the Corvette body alone when even this tiny car was so difficult.
Now, after removing the seized piston and cleaning it thoroughly, we were inspecting the condition of the cylinder that had housed it.
“All right. How does it look?”
I shone a penlight along the inner wall of the cylinder.
“Hmm, it’s incredibly clean and shiny. It looks like a mirror.”
Noah spoke with a broad smile.
“Right? But that isn’t a good thing. If it’s like this, the engine oil can’t remain on the surface and will run straight down.”
I lightly brushed the inside of the cylinder wall with my fingertip.
“Huh? Really? Then what do we do...?”
“It’s simple. We make fine crosshatch marks so the surface can retain oil. Open the drawer at the far right.”
At my words, Noah hurried over to the tool shelves.
“Is this it? It looks like a bunch of grapes.”
“That’s right. Because of how it looks, it’s called a dingleberry hone. Bring the electric drill too.”
(Translator’s Note: Dingleberry Hone — Informal workshop terminology for a flexible ball-style cylinder hone. Its abrasive balls create a crosshatch pattern on the cylinder wall, helping it retain oil and seat piston rings.)
I connected the dingleberry hone Noah brought me to the drill, then handed it back to him.
“Now you’re going to hone the cylinder with this. Insert it into the cylinder, keep it properly centered, and gently squeeze the trigger.”
“Yes!”
Slide, click.
Whirrrrr—
When Noah carefully activated the drill, the attached dingleberry hone began spinning rapidly inside the cylinder.
Rrrrrrrr—
The sound of countless abrasive balls brushing against the cylinder wall echoed through the shop.
“You’re doing well. Push it deep into the cylinder, then draw it all the way back out. Keep your speed steady.”
Following my instructions, Noah moved his arm smoothly and evenly. He was concentrating so intensely that he seemed to have forgotten to breathe.
“That’s enough. Stop now. Too much is worse than too little. What you just did is called cylinder honing. It’s different from the boring we did on the Super Bee engine, where we actually cut away the cylinder wall, so make sure you understand the distinction.”
“Understood! Honing... boring...”
Noah opened the notes app on his phone and diligently wrote it down.
“Now let’s install the piston rings. Every kind of engine work requires care, but this is especially delicate, so concentrate.”
I took out the extremely thin piston rings I had prepared in advance.
“Ooooh...”
“See the three grooves along the side of the piston? Each ring fits into one of them. Be careful not to break them.”
Using a piston-ring expander, Noah slowly guided a ring into its groove.
Huh. He’s good at this.
Click—
There had been no need to worry. Despite it being his first time seating piston rings, Noah did an excellent job.
I had noticed it before, but he seemed to possess remarkably sensitive fingertips.
His serious personality seems to come from Rachel.
Daniel had been fairly aggressive and impulsive...
“Is that... done?”
“Yeah. Now we reassemble everything in reverse order. Don’t forget that we’re using new seals, gaskets, a magneto, a spark plug, and a carburetor.”
“Ooooh, yes!”
We had started early in the morning, and it was not until sunset that Noah’s memorable first engine overhaul finally neared completion.
“Then shall we start it and see whether it actually runs?”
Noah had exhausted himself after maintaining such intense concentration for so long, so I quickly installed the engine and transmission in the chassis in his place.
I was used to handling engines weighing over five hundred pounds—about two hundred twenty-six kilograms—so installing an engine and transmission that weighed less than forty pounds, or about eighteen kilograms, felt like assembling a toy.
Rattle, rattle—
“Wow... Whenever I watch you work, Jason, everything comes together so easily that it’s hard to believe.”
Noah stared in astonishment as I installed the engine and transmission in only thirty minutes.
“This one doesn’t require a hoist or jack, and it’s easy. Anyway, watch carefully from here. This is an old two-stroke engine, so we have to mix engine oil directly into the fuel.”
“What? There are engines like that?”
Noah, who had been sprawled across a chair, quickly sat upright.
“Yeah. Some brush cutters and motorcycles still use the same method. The ratio is roughly thirty to one.”
The P50’s fuel tank was so small that around five liters of gasoline filled it completely. I only needed to mix in roughly one paper cup of engine oil.
“Give me the key.”
Noah handed me a small, simple metal key that looked like it belonged to a padlock.
I inserted it into the ignition switch, turned it to [ON], then firmly pulled the cord hanging beneath the dashboard.
Ziiing—
“That’s how you start it? It looks just like starting a chainsaw. Hahaha.”
“Yeah. It’s called a recoil starter. Like you said, it works on the same principle as a chainsaw.”
I pulled the cord firmly once more.
The trick was to pull decisively and quickly.
Whip—whirr!
Something spun inside.
Click, tara, tararararara—
A hard, rapid sound like a metal woodpecker pecking at a tree rang out, and the engine finally started.
“Whoa! We did it!”
Hearing the sound of the first engine he had ever worked on, Noah cheered and jumped up and down.
“Yeah, it sounds good. The rotation is smooth and stable too. Well done, Noah. It’s a success.”
After listening to the engine for a moment, I gave Noah an okay sign.
It might have been a single-cylinder two-stroke engine without a complicated valve train, but considering Noah’s level of experience, it was an excellent achievement.
—————
[Restoration Complete]
Vehicle: 1963 Peel P50 Original
Proficiency Increased
Coins Acquired: 1,200
Total Coins: 49,145
—————
The restoration-completion reward had appeared normally as well, so there did not seem to be any problem.
Rumble—
While Noah was still immersed in the joy of his first success, the rough exhaust note of a V8 approached from the distance, instantly drowning out the P50’s tiny engine.
Screech, clunk—
A black Chevy Silverado identical to mine stopped in front of the shop.
“Hey, Jason! I’m here! Oh, you got the P50 running?”
Logan, a bear of a man, practically tumbled out of the truck.
“Woof! Woof!”
“Yeah, I’m happy to see you too, you cute little guy.”
Dusty barked warily as Logan strode boldly into the shop, but Logan interpreted his intentions however he pleased.
“Chief, what brings you here at this hour?”
I asked as I shut off the noisy P50.
“You haven’t eaten yet, have you? I brought dinner. I was curious about the restoration too, so I figured I’d take care of both at once.”
“Chief...?”
Noah looked at Logan curiously and rose awkwardly from his seat.
“Noah, say hello. This is Logan. He was the chief of the team your father and I belonged to.”
“Oh... You’re Noah? That little kid has already grown this much...”
With disbelief on his face, Logan looked Noah up and down several times.
“Hello.”
“Yeah. Seeing you now, you look a lot like your father...”
Complicated emotions appeared in Logan’s eyes as he looked at Noah.
“Ahem. Chief, didn’t you say you brought food?”
“Oh, right! But this is a problem. I didn’t know there would be someone else here, so I only brought enough for two...”
At my words, Logan awkwardly held out a brown paper bag of the kind commonly used for groceries in the United States.
Rustle—
Then, with his thick hand, he pulled out an even thicker silver-wrapped bundle.
“They’re roast beef sandwiches. They’re really good.”
Once he peeled away the aluminum foil, the aroma of toasted bread and meat burst forth.
Sniff, sniff—
Dusty’s nose twitched rapidly from side to side.
“Give one to Noah, and the two of us can split the other. He’s still growing.”
“Really? Then here.”
“Thank you for the food!”
Noah immediately accepted the sandwich without showing the slightest hesitation.
“Haha. That part of him is exactly like his father.”
Logan smiled fondly as he watched Noah.
“That’s why you shouldn’t make empty offers to him. Here.”
I cut the other sandwich in half and handed one piece to Logan.
“Thanks. I had these made to your taste—no mayonnaise, only whole-grain mustard. And I brought au jus too.”
(Translator’s Note: Au Jus — A French expression meaning “with juice.” In American dining, it usually refers to light beef juices or broth served with roast beef sandwiches for dipping.)
Logan handed me a large paper cup filled with brown meat broth known as au jus.
It was a way of eating sandwiches that I had always enjoyed, since I disliked sweet sauces and mayonnaise.
“You even remember that? Au jus... It’s been a long time.”
Pleased, I quickly dipped the end of my sandwich into the au jus and pulled it back out.
The bread instantly absorbed the juices and turned brown.
“What’s that? Does it taste good if you eat it like that?”
Noah watched with curiosity.
People rarely dipped sandwiches in au jus these days, so the sight might have been unfamiliar to him.
“It’s made from the beef juices released while roasting the meat. Try it if you’re curious.”
Without hesitation, Noah dunked his sandwich deeply into the cup.
“...Oh! This is pretty good.”
“Is it?”
I doubted there were many foods Noah would dislike.
In any case, the sandwich looked delicious even from the cross-section packed tightly with thin slices of beef.
After Noah, I took a bite as well. The savory meat juices struck immediately, accompanied by a light aroma of pepper.
It was simple and substantial, exactly the kind of flavor I had always liked.
“Mm! These sandwiches are great. Where did you buy them?”
“Those? My wife made them.”
“...Cough!”
At Logan’s words, I nearly sprayed the sandwich in my mouth into the air.
“Logan, you’re married?”
“Yeah. Well, it just sort of happened.”
Logan scratched his cheek in embarrassment.
“What are you so embarrassed about? Anyway, congratulations.”
I had no idea how someone could simply end up married by chance.
Still, knowing that Logan had built a life of his own after leaving the service made me feel somewhat relieved.
“Hmm. But if Uncle Logan was the chief, that means he outranked my dad and Jason, right?”
Noah, who had been silently devouring his sandwich, suddenly spoke as though something had occurred to him.
“Yeah, more or less.”
“Then what were those two like from your perspective, Chief?”
Noah’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.
I generally avoided talking about my time in the Navy SEALs.
Perhaps because of that, Noah had never gone out of his way to ask, but apparently, he had been curious all along.
“Uh, well...”
Logan looked somewhat flustered and glanced toward me.
Only after I gave a slight nod did he grin and begin telling the story.
“Noah, do you know the most important requirement for becoming a Navy SEAL?”
“I’m not sure. Being big? Or having stamina?”
“Those matter too, but something far more important is mental strength. Even the physically punishing training is ultimately meant to teach you to suppress panic and control fear. But those two...”
Logan let out a disbelieving laugh, as though the memory still struck him as absurd.
“Your father Daniel and Jason didn’t suppress their fear through training. It was more like the part of their brains responsible for it was broken. What was it called again?”
“The amygdala?”
(Translator’s Note:Amygdala — A group of brain structures involved in detecting emotionally significant stimuli, including potential threats.)
“That’s it! Exactly.”
At Noah’s answer, Logan tapped the side of his temple with a finger.
“One time, the rear ramp of a C-130 transport plane was about to open. Everyone was tense and preparing for the jump. Do you know what your father and Jason were doing in the corner? They had a sheet of paper on their knees and were playing Go.”
(Translator’s Note: C-130 Hercules — A four-engine military transport aircraft manufactured by Lockheed. First flown in 1954, it has been widely used for troop transport, cargo delivery, airborne operations, medical evacuation, and numerous specialized missions.)
(Translator’s Note: Go — An ancient strategy board game originating in China more than two thousand years ago. Players place black and white stones on a grid to surround territory.)
“It wasn’t Go. It was gomoku. How could anyone possibly play Go in there?”
(Translator’s Note: Gomoku — An East Asian strategy game in which players alternately place stones and attempt to form an uninterrupted row of five. It is commonly played with Go stones and a Go board.)
“Does that make gomoku normal?”
Back then, gomoku, which I had introduced to the team, had become enormously popular.
We had even held nightly betting tournaments against other teams.
“Anyway, the jump signal came, and Daniel suddenly shouted in frustration, ‘That was a double three, and you missed it! This match doesn’t count!’ The moment he said that, Jason picked up the paper from his knees, threw it into the air, and jumped after it, asking whether Daniel had any evidence. Then your father immediately jumped out after him because he was trying to catch the paper. Honestly... Everyone else was frozen with tension, and those two looked like complete lunatics.”
(Translator’s Note: Double Three — A gomoku formation in which one move simultaneously creates two open lines of three stones. Under many competitive rule sets, it is prohibited for the first player because of the advantage it creates.)
“...Jason, is that true?”
Noah stared at me with wide eyes.
“Of course not. Don’t believe everything that old man says. He exaggerates all his stories.”
After that, Noah excitedly fired off one question after another.
Logan also seemed to enjoy reminiscing after so long and continued talking for quite some time.
“Ahahaha! Uncle Logan, your head is sticking out!”
At the end, in exchange for the restoration discount, Logan personally demonstrated himself sitting inside the P50.
His body was so tightly folded that there was no angle from which he could press the accelerator, making it impossible for him to drive.
After laughing and talking for a long while, I sent the reluctant Noah home before it grew any later.
Watching the taillights of Noah’s truck recede into the distance, Logan murmured quietly.
“How long have you been looking after Noah too? I should have done a better job of taking care of the team members...”
“You did more than enough, Chief. I’m only doing this because I want to.”
Logan had also suffered severe nerve damage to his arm during the operation in which Daniel was killed and had been medically discharged.
Before leaving the service, he had practically stormed into headquarters personnel administration, S-1, and refused to move a single step until Daniel’s survivor benefits and my combat pay had been confirmed down to the last cent.
(Translator’s Note: S-1 — The personnel and administrative staff section of a United States military unit. Its duties commonly include personnel records, casualty administration, assignments, and pay-related documentation.)
“By the way, Chief. You said you’re married now. Is it all right for you to stay out this late? Didn’t you say your wife is watching the shop today?”
“Ah... damn it! I forgot!”
At my words, Logan hurriedly rose and practically leaped into his truck.
“I’ll transfer the restoration fee. And come visit the gun shop! You don’t own a gun, do you? If you’re going to run a shop in an isolated place like this, you absolutely need one. I’ll give you a good price!”
“Understood. Hurry home. If you’re any later, your wife might be the one who shoots you.”
I stood there for a long time, watching Logan wave through the window until his truck disappeared from sight.
[Beef Sandwich with Au Jus]
CC BY 2.0, photo by jeffreyw