Danny42C's Tale
Where were we (#2306)? Ah yes, getting ready to move down to the States.
Our B.F.T.S.s could be opened as units under RAF command, as we had become Allies after Pearl Harbor, but with American aircraft and civilian instructors, and with RAF Officers and NCOs for disciplinary purposes. They taught the RAF flying training syllabus, I believe. This was a third shorter (in flying hours) than the American one. * Our former places in the US Army flying schools immediately became extra training capacity for them; General Arnold was rewarded for his foresight and generosity.
You may have seen newsreel footage of the time showing RAF aircrew training in the States wearing US-style light khaki with RAF forage caps and white flashes. This has caused some confusion, as it seems to contradict the "civilian clothes" story. Of course these show only these later B.F.T.Ss, obviously there would be no film evidence of the US breach of neutrality involved in allowing us in before we became allies. Stictly speaking, that was Hitler's doing: he took the decision out of US hands by declaring war on them as soon as the Japanese set the ball rolling
Note *
What is my authority for this statement? Only this: a very good little book (probably long out of print) called "The thin blue line". It was written by a Robert Graves (I, Claudius ?), publisher unknown. It was very popular in the early days of the war; it told of the flying training experiences of a small group of friends. It stated that they had to do 60 hours at EFTS and the same at SFTS to get their wings. Graves was a well respected author, his book would have been well researched. Of course, the syllabus could have been lengthened later, but I don't think it ever reached the 200 hours we did in the USAAC Arnold Scheme.
Since then, I've poked about in Wikipedia, and not found a definitive answer, the average seems around 140, but over a wide spread. I stand to be shot down here, there will be many people out there who can put me right.
Another puzzle, on some Wiki entries it states that the B.F.T.S. Scheme was agreed with the US, and put into effect, months before Pearl Harbor. How can this possibly be? You can't have a uniformed military unit from one of the combatants in a War operating in your territory, and pretend to be neutral! Your duty in International Law is to intern them (as Eire, Sweden and Switzerland did to any of our chaps who landed there during the War). Enlighten me, please.
Carlstrom Field, Arcadia, Florida.
"Off we go - into the wide, blue yon - der
Flying high - into the Sun"
(Song of the United States Army Air Corps)
I broke off my story in Toronto, parading in the Fort York Armoury and dodging farm machinery at the Exposition. We marvelled at the quality and quantity of our food compared with wartime Britain. I don't think we had much time to explore the city. We had to get our new civilian clothes pressed and ready for the next stage of our journey, and that took some doing after weeks at the bottom of a kitbag. I managed to "lose" my beret.
An untidy gaggle of mock-civilians boarded a train for the States. It must have been a "special" of some kind, as there were no civilians on board and I do not recall any changes en route to Florida. But you need a load of some 3-400 to justify a "Special", and there was nowhere near that number going to Arcadia - perhaps no more than 50. Perhaps a coach or coaches was dropped off the end of the train at stages along the way, and coupled on to a train going to each individual destination. As we were going to the most southern point, we'd stay hitched up all the time.
It was to be a long haul, right down the country from top to bottom. We crossed the border at Detroit, and settled down to train life. This was vastly different from the spartan Canadian Pacific rolling stock. We were now treated as Aviation "Kay-dets" in the USAAC, but sadly not paid as such. We just got the dollar equivalent of our LAC pay - 5/6 a day. It must have worked out at about a dollar a day (about one-seventh of an American cadet's pay) * but as there was next to nothing to spend it on, that didn't matter.
We travelled in style, the night sleepers had the curtained berths with central gangway familiar in many a Hollywood film of the time, complete with smiling black conductor. The day coaches were comfortable, and the meals excellent. Things were looking up. It was late summer, and heated up quickly as we rolled South. I don't remember how long the journey took, but it must have been at least two or three days. At last we came, clanking and clanging, to a halt in Arcadia, a small town half way down on the Gulf side of Florida.
Note *
I believe they were paid $200 per month. Of this (a little booklet I found advised), they were expected to save enough for "a substantial down payment on an automobile" at the end of their (six month) Course. A basic Ford V8 or Chevrolet "sedan" then cost about $600. A convertible, a necessity in the Southern states in the days before air-conditioning, about $100 more . So they'd have to save about a sixth of their pay each month for a one-third deposit for the car which they must have as a Second Lieutenant.
It was September, and I remember the blow of heat hitting us as we climbed down from the train. They don't run to platforms out there, and it's quite a way to fall. Loaded into coaches, we went out a few miles to the Embry-Riddle School of Aviation at Carlstrom Field - now, I believe, ennobled as the Embry-Riddle University of Aviation, but then a recently opened civil flying school which had been taken over by the Army. The only Army presence was a lieutenant as C.O. and a couple of second lieutenants (these were purely "Admin". There must have been some US NCOs, too, for we were marched about and someone must have been giving the orders. All the rest of our instructors were civilian. Naturally there were no RAF Officers or NCOs, for obvious reasons.
Carlstrom must have been some past hero of military aviation, all their airbases were named in this way. His Field was just that, a square mile of grass. The Army must have put a good deal of money into the place, for the accommodation was luxurious. The barrack blocks were two storied affairs, with verandahs. Each room had ample space, polished wood floors, two double tier bunks, and its own white tiled bathroom. I was never in such a palace in all my service life - and never would be again.
The camp had an open air swimming pool, and countless Coca-cola machines. These did roaring trade, for the local water, freely available from squirt-up fountains, was faintly brackish. The Mess Hall was every bit as good as the accomodation, and we had the novel experience of being waited on by (black of course) staff. We were way down below the Mason-Dixon line, and segregation was the rule.
All this came at a price. Generally thought to be easy-going on their overseas assignments, American discipline was Prussian at home. As Aviation cadets, there was a whiff of West Point about our treatment. We did not have cleaners for our rooms. We had to keep them spotless. The rumour was that the Officer of the Day wore white gloves on his rounds to see if there was any dust on the light bulbs.
The beds had to be made down to a fixed pattern. The sheets had to be turned down exactly six inches, and the blanket folded exactly 45 degrees at the foot. Every square inch of the bathroom had to glitter. This was not too bad when there four of you to share the chores, but when it dropped down to one (as in my case) you had to dash about a bit.
Naturally, we were marched about all over the place. ("Hup - two - three - four"). Everything had to be done in a "mili-tary manner". We learned American foot drill, thankfully forgotten except : "To the rear, March!", a comical (to us) equivalent of our "About Turn!". The most extreme example came at mealtimes. We had to march in to our alloted places, stand at attention behind our chairs until the order "Seats", and then sit at attention until the order "Parade Rest!" ("Stand Easy"). Only then could we start to talk and eat.
Enough to be going along with. You may like to know that PPRune has only caught me out once tonight (out of half a dozen "slices") and then I only lost a few words. Keep your fingers crossed - we may have sorted it!
Danny42C
Take a brace, Mister! (Stand to Attention!)
Last edited by Danny42C; 26th Feb 2012 at 22:53.