Things are about to change.
Danny is still at Gunter Field.
Montgomery was quite a pleasant little town, but I quickly found that the Civil War was far from over. "Goddam Yankee" was the most charitable description for anyone resident north of the Mason-Dixon line. The annual football match between the "Blue and the Grey" roused the supporters of both sides to a passion which made the Celtic/Rangers affair look like a vicarage tea-party. To whistle even a few bars of "Marching through Georgia" invited instant assault and battery.
I got a shock one night. Solo, on a cross- country, I was happily cruising down a light-line. I was near the end of the trip, not far from home and the navigation exercise was "in the bag". I couldn't get lost now if I tried, so I relaxed. I was running up to Birmingham; there was no blackout in the States, and I could see the city lights spread out in front of me.
What I didn't know was that this was a major steel town. As I was running up to it, they chose that moment to take the top off a blast furnace (probably to put in a fresh charge). A tremendous blaze lit up the clouds and the sky, blinding me and knocking out my night vision. I jumped out of my skin, certain my last hour was come. Luckily this was in the pre-atomic era, otherwise I would have thought "Armageddon". But before I could decide whether to bale out or start praying (or both), they slipped the lid back on the furnace, and all was dark once more. My heart thudded back into place, I started to see the instruments again, and was breathing almost normally by the time I landed.
Half way through our time there came the 8th December 41 - "a day that will live in infamy" (Roosevelt) - and all changed with Pearl Harbor. The effect on the American public was as dramatic as the open blast furnace had been on me. They were shocked out of their wits. Their only consolation was that they now had us as their Gallant Ally (for what that was worth). And they only had that because Hitler took the decision out of their hands and declared war on them. We became Flavour of the Month overnight. The southern belles suddenly found our English accents attractive (Ah jest lurve to hear yo' voice talk!")
Our instructors caught War fever, and decided they had to do something. They suspended training and organised patrol flights, day and night, over Alabama and Georgia. What they thought they were looking for, and what they might do (unarmed) about it if they found it, nobody seemed to know. Eventually they came to realise that their nearest enemy was thousands of miles away and quite unable to do them any harm.
"The wisest thing, we suppose
That a man can do for his land
Is the work that lies under his nose
With the tools that lie under his hand"
(Kipling)
The best thing to do was to get on with what they were already doing, and our pilot training resumed as normal. Allies now, I suppose we could have worn RAF uniform if we wanted, although my recollection is that we carried on as before, wearing overalls all the time. No RAF officers or NCOs appeared, and our aviation cadet status continued for want of a better idea. Gunter Field was an Army post, and our instructors were all USAAC 1st or 2nd Lieutenants. A joke of the time was that there was nothing in the US Army Air Corps except Lieutenants and Generals!
While on the subject, it's worth mentioning a curious anomaly in US officers' rank badges. It sometimes crops up in a pub quiz, or in "Casual Pursuit" - type questions: "Where is silver worth more than gold?". It's here, a US 2nd Lieut. wears a single gold bar on collar, shoulder or tin hat, a 1st Lieut. a silver one. There is a gold oak leaf for a Major, but only a silver one for a Lieutenant Colonel. Why - Lord only knows!
There must have been a full Colonel (a silver eagle - a "Boid Coinel") somewhere around at Gunter, but I don't recall seeing him. Above full Colonel, you're in "Star" territory. These insignia are common across all four Services: a Navy Captain in shirt-sleeve order on his bridge wears the same silver eagles on his shirt collar as an Army or Marine Colonel would do.
(By the way, let me point out that the USAAC (and USAF) has Bases, the RAF has Stations - a fact seemingly lost on today's Newsreaders and TV Documentary producers, although "returning to base" and the like - in a general sense - is all right).
While I'm at it, let's clear another thing up. Do you "bale out" or "bail out", when you have to "hit the silk"? The words seem to be treated as synomymous. But they're not. When you find your leaky dinghy half full of water, you use a "baler" to "bale" the water out over the side. The analogy with jumping out of your aircraft (baling yourself out) is obvious. On the contrary, to "bail" a person out is something quite different - to put up cash to secure his release from jail or otherwise get him out of trouble. "Bale" is clearly the better word, and I always use it. (No, I've never had to "bale" out myself - the flames would have to be licking my toes before I'd leave a perfectly good aeroplane - I don't like heights!)
I think I've tried Mr Moderator's patience enough tonight.
Goodnight, all.
Danny42C
It's just the way the mop flops.
Last edited by Danny42C; 4th Mar 2012 at 15:02.