Strange doings in the USAAC.
Thank you, Chugalug and Ricardian. I'm a bit worried about Cliff. We haven't heard from him for some time, and at our age.......?
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Either USAAC regulations were very loose, or they took a cavalier attitude to them. It was not unusual to have your instructor champing on a fat (lit) cigar in flight (his cockpit may even have had an ashtray, but I doubt it). On dual formation sessions, the No.2 instructor sometimes added spice to the proceedings by closing in tight on his leader, and gently tapping wingtips together. We loved it. (Don't try this at home!)
Our exercises were generally a continuation of those at Gunter, complicated by the fact that we had a retractable undercarriage and a constant-speed propeller to play with. Apart from that, the AT-6A was so superior to the BT-13 that it quite restored our shaken faith in aircraft designers. We did a lot of formation practice, and started to use oxygen for the first time.
Their masks varied from the RAF pattern, having an external rubber bag for re-breathing (much like the anaesthetic mask used by dentists in the old days). Wearing one of these, I managed to get an AT6 up to 21,000 ft, and can confirm that as the absolute ceiling of the type. It took me about half an hour, and I was just hanging on by my wingtips at 75 mph with the throttle wide open. and maximum revs. The thing was sitting up like a Praying Mantis. Any attempt to get any higher, and it fell fifty feet out of the sky. Try as I might, I couldn't get another foot out of it.
This was our first experience of retractable undercarriages, but the absent-minded "wheels-up" landing, popular in myth, never happened while I was there. Of course, we were in radio contact with the Tower all the time, and the AT-6 had a warning horn which sounded when you closed the throttle without your wheels being locked down. You'd need to be a dumb bunny indeed to get down without them, but an apocryphal tale told (throughout the RAF) of one who had managed it in a Harvard. Coming in, "wheels-up", the Controller had bawled at him (over the radio) to go round - to no avail, he slithered to an ignominious stop. Duly arraigned, he was asked why he hadn't obeyed. "I couldn't hear what you were saying, Sir," he said, "for the row this damn' horn thing was making!"
American Bases still rang to bugle calls ("Taps" is a lovely call, even more haunting than our "Last Post"). I don't know the derivation of the name, as I recall, it was their "Lights out" call, late in the evening. We expected to be awakened in the usual way, by "Reveille" over the Tannoy. But for the first few weeks, we were treated to the luxury of a full brass band. At 0600, in the cold and pitch dark, these unfortunates marched up and down between the barrack blocks, giving spirited renderings of "Washington Post", other Souza favourites and (inevitably): "You're in the Army Now". An unappreciative audience shivered under thin blankets (it was a very cold winter) and cursed them.
An amusing tale lay behind this. Some time late in the previous year, the Craig Field band had been engaged to play sweet airs at a State Governer's official function in Montgomery. This was a great piece of publicity for the Base (Selma was right out in the sticks), and the Colonel stood to get no little kudos for himself (not to mention a pair of invitations for him and his lady).
The Band arrived at the Governer's Mansion early on the appointed day, so as to have plenty of time to settle in place before kick-off. Their hosts, mindful of the duty of Southern hospitality, plied the bandsmen with the hard stuff ad lib. Give a donkey strawberries! You can imagine the scene when the performance began. It was hilarious for the guests, the talking point of Montgomery next day, and all over the State in a week.
The Governer was mortified, the Colonel furious. He put the whole band under arrest on their return to camp. Hauled before him, the miscreants
were awarded this novel form of collective "jankers" (an early form of "Community Service", perhaps?) It must have been for several months, for they were still at it when we got there. Nowadays it would be regarded as a Cruel or Unusual Punishment, but a US Colonel was (and is) a power in the land, and can do what he pleases "on his own patch".
During our time there, we spent two weeks detached for gunnery training to Eglin Field, Valpariso (on the coast of the Florida "Panhandle"). There we blazed away with our single gun at ground targets without much success. There was no air-to-air practice.
The single runway at Eglin had to serve for all purposes - parking, refuelling and take offs and landings. This meant having to land on a half-width runway, and a swing could be very expensive. They were really pushing their luck, but it held and there were no accidents while we were there.
That'll do for tonight, more later.
Danny42C
We don't get much money, but we do see life!
Last edited by Danny42C; 3rd Mar 2012 at 23:14.