OV-103: Discovery

I managed to take some time out from work commitments during the day to visit the Smithsonian Air and Space museum's out of town campus, where they have their larger exhibits.

Having grown up watching the development of the Shuttle program, the main attraction for me was the orbiter Discovery.  The museum is rather full of stuff and lacking narrative, so there was more interest for me in the details than the big picture.  Scarring on the thermal tiles.  Wear on the main engine gimbals.  Touched up paint.  Faded decals.  While Enterprise looked like a "factory fresh" model, Discovery shows the scars of a career in space with pride.

I wandered the vast jumble of largely undistinguished aircraft for a while before I headed into the space hangar.  I was pleased to see a SR71 Blackbird, although there was very little information - it just sat there in isolation.  The Concorde is an Air France one - you can't go inside (like you can at East Fortune) and there's once again no story to go with it.

As with many aviation museums, a large proportion of the aircraft are military, spanning nearly a century of airborne warfare.  Some have markings or placards indicating their involvement in a conflict.  A helicopter that flew 235 rescue missions in Korea. A F14 that shot down a MIG.

In amongst this tangle of wings and rotors, a gleaming silver aeroplane caught my eye, making me look up.  On the side of the nose were the words "Enola Gay" (see extra). I was really quite taken aback to see her.  I stopped in my tracks and swore quietly to myself.  I was completely unprepared to see this harbinger of destruction hung casually in amongst so many mundane machines.  One paragraph on a plaque was the sole understated indication of her historical significance.

I came here expecting to be moved by seeing the Shuttle, and I was certainly fascinated by her.

I feel like it is stumbling upon Enola Gay that will leave the lasting impression on me, even if I can't quite articulate why.