National Affairs: Travel Notes

It would be a quiet trip home on Columbine III, and a man could ask for no more delightful way to go. As Ike enters his own door, passing the big Presidential Seal pasted on the plane's silver-sheathed fuselage, he will board one of the most comfortable and air-ready vehicles that ever left earth (see cut).

Waiting for the trip home, Columbine's commander, Lieut. Colonel William G. Draper, who flew Ike at SHAPE, kept his eight-man crew in peak sharpness. They flew around Denver at least four hours a week (minimum: 30 hours monthly), made at least one weekly round trip to Washington at the 13,000-to-15,000-ft. altitude planned for taking the President home. "A flying plane," said Pilot Draper, "is a safe plane."

Thirty Seconds. From the tapered tip of its special plastic radar nose that gives the 116-ft. Columbine an eye on weather 200 miles ahead to the specially rubberized presidential escape chute that makes for cooler slides to the ground after a forced landing, the fussed-over plane is thoroughly checked after every 50 hours in the air. The four turbo-compound engines of ordinary Super Constellations are overhauled at the 1,200-hour mark; Columbine's get torn apart after 600 hours.

Its crew is handpicked. Assisting Draper, who doubles as presidential Air Force aide, are Majors William W. Thomas, the copilot, and Vincent Puglisi, the navigator. The five enlisted crewmen, all master sergeants, are graduates of Lockheed's factory school in Burbank, Calif. Every three months the pilots go through a rigid flight test under the gimlet eyes of top Air Force inspectors. Before each flight they plan how to buckle on Ike's parachute within 30 seconds. Before the President takes a trip, they may fly thousands of miles from Washington merely to practice instrument landings at his destination. They are prepared to fly anywhere in the world on two hours' notice.

Muted Green. With an interior designed by Henry Dreyfuss, the Columbine itself combines the accouterment of an aerial yacht and the functions of a flying White House. To its chief passengers, the President and Mrs. Eisenhower, the entire rear third of the plane is devoted. There a softly muted green—"Eisenhower green"—strikes a note of easy relaxation: grey-green carpets on the floors, rich green gabardine on the walls, white vinyl plastic on the ceiling. In the spacious stateroom, with its bleached walnut woodwork and grey-green-striped boucle upholstery, the Eisenhowers may fasten themselves with green safety belts into two big green swivel chairs, gazing out at blue sky through green-curtained windows. At night they may retire on the two wide green divans that convert into luxurious three-quarter beds, falling asleep to the strains of recorded symphonic music.

From the stainless-steel galley they may expect first-rate meals, prepared beforehand on the ground. If a journey is made on short notice, there is enough canned food stowed in Columbine to put on elaborate meals during a globe-circling flight without an additional pinch of salt.