From an Airknocker to the Left Seat of a Flying Fortress
I fell in love with airplanes at a very young age. Saving my pennies, I took my first ride in a plane at the age of 14 at the Chicago International Airport (now Midway Field). I would sneak out to the field (three cents on the street car) whenever I could get away from my parents. They would have cut my journey short if they had known what I was up to.
I soloed in 1940 at the age of 19 in an old "Airknocker" (Aeronca Champ). A few months before Pearl Harbor I applied for training in the Aviation Cadet Program, U.S. Army Air Corps. I passed all the required tests and was sent home to wait for a call. Right after December 7, 1941, they called us up by the thousands. I was sent to the Santa Ana, Calif., Preflight Center for processing. Much to my delight, I was given a much coveted pilot’s slot. At the Preflight Center we were busy learning navigation, radio, etc. and how to become officers and gentlemen.
I was then sent to Hemet, Calif., for primary training in the Ryan PT-22 (the "Maytag Messerschmitt"). One of the cadets in my lower class would go on to become one of the most famous pilots in the world – Aviation Cadet Chuck Yeager.
My class was then sent to Minter Field near Bakersfield, Calif., to fly the Vultee "Vibrators." The basic training at Minter was a lot different than primary. The BT’s had two-position props, a much larger engine and we had air corps flying officers as instructors instead of civilian instructors. We learned to fly formation and were introduced to night flying.
There was a large washout rate at Hemet, but the Ryan pilots had a lower washout rate than the Stearman pilots did at Minter while flying Vultees.
The class was then sent to the twin-engine flying school at La Junta, Colo., to train in AT-17s and AT-9s. We had no washouts at the advanced school, but lost two cadets in a crash. I finally made it to the top of the mountain – I was a "second Louie" and I had pilot’s wings.
Four days after getting my wings I wound up at Blythe, Calif., as a copilot in a new provisional group for first phase combat training. I spent the next few weeks learning as much as I could, constantly bugging my pilot to let me land, fly formation, do the air-to-ground gunnery runs and every other task assigned to us. I will always be grateful to him because he gave me a lot of left-seat time also. We were now ready for our second phase of combat training at a new base. A new provisional group was to be started and the base commander asked all the aircraft commanders to select any of their copilots they thought could qualify for left seat status. My pilot, Jack Harris, put my name on the list. I think I bugged him too much and he wanted me out of his hair!
I made a few runs with several check pilots and was rated as an aircraft commander. That was a very proud day in my life. My wife, Kay, and I had a big celebration that . . .