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In 1991 I had a layover at McConnel AFB and the security cops took some of us on a nice tour that concluded with us standing on the runway apron as the B-1 bomber taxied by and took off.

Loudest f’n noise I’ve ever experienced, felt like my guts were going to turn to jelly.

I had the same glorious experience when a B-1B did a flyby at a local airshow. The first pass was at high subsonic, with the wings folded back. The second was low and slow, and it was really both.

The departure started out low and slow. Then the pilot lit the afterburners and swept the wings back. That's when the noise really hit, including a pressure wave you could feel but not hear. He didn't go vertical for long, but just became a tiny black dot that vanished on the horizon.

I jumped around like a maniac, yelling, screaming, and smiling. I knew nobody could hear me, but I figured they knew I must have been happy. The sound of freedom always does that to me.