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A new simplified procedure for our guest book. Just click on the "Add Your Message" button and fill out your name, e-mail, and message. The form will forward and be posted within 24 hours. This will preclude any further tampering with the code. The only disadvantage is that your message will not be posted immediately. There is no limit to the length of the messages, but please be reasonable. The last 30 messages will be kept.

The newest messages will be on the bottom

July 30, 2008
Mr. Rogers, Mr. Day et al,
Since you guys brought up the old lead sled, did anyone else in 61-09 fly the F-89 besides me?
Lee Wilson
09B-3
July 30, 2008
Gentlemen (I use the term loosely),
There were 6 RIO's from 61-09 that trained in the Scorp at James Connelly AFB in Waco, Tx, and all but one went on to the F-101B.
Terry Higgins B-2
July 31, 2008
Terry,
Were all six of the 61-09 RIOs designated for the ANG?  I don't believe you ended up in the F-101 did you?  If my memory is correct you went onto pilot training and the F-102.  The F-101 must have been a blast, just sitting through the takeoff was a reward in itself.  I 'hold short' in the runup box at the end of RW 21 at GEG (Spokane) and watch the ANG F-101s bring up their power and hit the burner.  Nearly wet my pants just watching.
Bill Day
July 31, 2008
Hi Bill,
There was only one ANG assignment out of cadets for RIO training. Most of us went on to the Voo Doo in such exotic places such as Montana and North Dakota in February. I remembering visiting Russ Bonner in North Dakota. Russ was from Tennessee and he never knew the temperature could go below 30 degrees. I think the temperature that day was -20 with the wind blowing about 20 knots. Russ looked slightly catatonic as I spoke to him.
The F-101F had a stick, throttles, and instrumentation in the back seat. I tried often to get those rides. We had only two assigned to the 29th FIS, with the rest being "B" models. The Voo Doo could go from sea level brake release to 35,000 in 1 minute and 30 seconds with afterburners. Very impressive for an old war bird. I flew in the back seat for 4 years before transferring to the Montana ANG and Air Force pilot training at Craig AFB. At Craig we were the second to the last class to use the T-33, as the other training bases were using the T-38.
Terry B-2
August 1, 2008
Did Bob Daffin go RIO ?  And, speaking of Daffin, has anyone been in contact with him?  I think he lives just up the road from me, but cannot confirm it.
 Harry Rogers
B-1
August 1, 2008
Bob was one of the select 6 that were RIO's. Not sure what assignment he received.
Terry Higgins
B-2
August 6, 2006
Remember the Jimmy Stewart movie Strategic Air Command?  This film really hit my fancy, especially when Stewart takes his first 'local' flight in a B-36.  The 'local' ends up being a round robin up to Alaska and then back to Texas.  All while June Allison (movie wife) waits in the car next to the flight line.  This movie turned me on to big airplanes.  I still remember the words of some of the crew members he 'interviews.' 
In like fashion I still have rich memories of crew members I flew with on the C-124.  For you gents who didn't crew that airplane, the standard compliment was two pilots, navigator, two engineers (one also acted as scanner), radio operator, and loadmaster.  The radio operators were being phased out as I arrived the squadron and the aircraft were fitted with 618S-1 SSB transceivers.  The radio operator's equipment and crew station remained on the aircraft and was frequently used as a jump seat for extra crew members.  We had one flight engineer (FE) who had formerly been a pilot in the pre-Castro Cuban Air Force.  He used the HF equipment to make contacts with the Cuban community.  Another FE was a WWII commissioned pilot who was later RIF'd, probably one of the best FEs I encountered.  A favorite loadmaster was a former Gold Gloves boxing champion and had a nose to prove that fact.  We got to know the enlisted crew members well.  You spend day and night together with six guys for 90 days you will get to know there personality quirks and strengths.  I was fortunate to share their world and to know that as individuals.
As a navigator I got a lot of guff from the co-pilots in particular, seldom any flak from the enlisted crew members.  I suppose if you thought you were going to fly as a pilot in F-104s and end up as a copilot in C-124s you might have a damaged ego. 
One notorious FE shared that his older brother was a 0-6 in Air Material Command.  This character stated that he always wanted to be an officer, but once he learned that he had to be a Lieutenant first he figured getting a commission wasn't worth the price. 
Today I believe that getting to know these enlisted men helped me in the work world that was to follow, however once it all backfired.  I was flying as Flight Engineer (Second Officer) on the 707 series and we had just chocked at Chicago O'Hare.  The grouchy, grizzly old captain told me to get the left outboard landing light replaced.  In typical young Lieutenant style I intercepted the first mechanical I saw walking the flight line.  With junior officereeze, I told him we need the landing light replaced pronto.  This tough old bird, with no shortage of four letter words, let me know what I could with that landing light.  This was indeed a different world.  Another lesson learned!   
Bill Day
61-09/B-4
August 8, 2008
With Cadet Day reminiscing of Shakey Bird days, I thought I would add a few more anecdotes.
When our group arrived from NAV school, MATS was an old man outfit. Most were remnants of the Berlin Airlift cadre. They had not seen a butter-bar Lieutenant in so long, they did not know what to do with all of us. We pulled more than our share of AO and OD. We did a lot of courier duties. And, believe it or not, we even waxed and buffed squadron building floors.

We got to know the Flight Engineers, Radio Operators, and Loadmasters more than we got to know the pilots. They pilots were strapped into their thrones up front, while the rest of the crew was fairly mobile. We Navigators humped offloads with the loadmasters; did sniff checks for the engineers, and of course, were designated crew baggage handlers, flight lunch cookers, and coffee gofers. Back in those days, our worldwide NAV KIT also weighed about sixty pounds. We were in and out of our seat so much, we rarely strapped in. Fetch letdown plates, fetch airways FLIP charts, fetch the enroute supplement, fetch somebodys Dash One, etc. etc. etc.
But, boy, those were the good old days!

Harry Rogers
B-1
August 8, 2008
The reason most pilots didn't get along well with navigators as 
mentioned in the two previous stories (I too was a C-124 nav), was 
that it was usually a pilot coming out of one of the comfortable crew 
bunks that cracked his head on the sextant that the nav had left in 
the astro-dome or in the periscopic port.

The bunk used by the FE was placed so that he missed the sextant, but 
when the pilot got up and moved forward, that sizeable chunk of metal 
and prisms and lenses usually caught the man in the middle of the 
forehead, and he was lucky if it didn't draw blood.

Nothing like a "goose egg" on ones forehead for him to decide that 
you were more worthless than a wool coat in Hawaii and THAT is why I 
think we all got along better with the guys that never met the 
"hanging sextant."

Chris (now where did I leave that sextant) Neale
August 10, 2008
Brother Rogers and I were in the different squadron, same Wing.  I recall getting a lot of unpleasant details, but never waxing floors.  Our worldwide navigation kit was legendary.  One dark and stormy night we did a WX diversion to Randolph AFB only to discover we had no approach plates.  Now remember the word - Diversion (important).  I had surveyed the pilot's approach chart books at flight planning for all the destination airports on our schedule, but not for every possible alternate.  Well when I discovered there were no Randolph AFB plates the A/C went into hyper-excitation mode.  He chewed me mercilessly for days.  I recall we ended up getting a GCA into Kelly AFB. 
Harry may remember this one.  As the junior officer on the Rhein Mein TDY crew, I used to have to pay a trip to the finance office the working day before our trips to get a 'green backs' advanced per diem payout for the entire crew.  It was important to get the cash in small denominations - no larger than $10, for anything larger was difficult to pass in many countries.  I admit to enjoying carrying around that large a roll of cash.  
Courier duty was a royal pain in the posterior.  One trip I was assigned responsibility for a large load of Army courier material.  As fate would have it we made a WX diversion to Marseilles, France.  Wanting to escape the custody duty, I called the U.S. Consulate and asked if they could store these courier materials in their safe.  They said 'Sure' and then asked how much we had.  I told them I might need a truck because we have about 1,200 lbs.  They hung up on me.  Can you imagine that they just hung up on me?
You guys also had some unusual collateral duties I know, because when I went to SAC missiles collateral duties there got a bit different.  Let us hear your stories.
Most of the pilots treated us Navigators well enough, especially once they discovered you had some interest in their work.  The Air Force Academy grads who did the navigator bit at the Academy could be a pain in the butt.  A few times when I was having difficulty with getting a night celestial fix through broken cloud cover they would call back and say "Hey Nav. you can get a shot on 'Canopus' through the cloud break to the SE right now".  Well with a perioscoptic sextant that was easier said than done.  These fellows could become pretty critical when you failed to get the shot. 
During the TDYs, and flying airways over Europe, I often sat in the copilot's seat, ran the radios and made the position reports.  When the pilots had other plans I stayed humble at my table and worked at cranking out an ECI course. 
More on the downstairs driftmeters later guys.  Let us hear from you.
Bill Day
61-09/B-4    
August 11, 2008
Well, as usual … Cadet Day has inspired a diatribe!

One of the craziest things that ever happened to me in Shakey Bird was a mission we called the Turkey Trot … Rhein Main, Chateauroux, Naples, Athens, Istanbul, Incirlik, and return.

On the return leg, we landed at Athens with a broken wing flap cable … a new one had to come all the way from Douglas! So, everyone began partying, with the knowledge that nothing happens fast in MATS! Unbeknownst to us, Comand Post established a stage … the next crew in would baby-sit our bird and we would take theirs … hoot and hoolers … unfair, unfair! But they never told us!
After the third day, I ran out of money … the rest of the crew partied on!

That night … or should I say the wee hours of the next morning … command post alerted us for a launch! Shock and surprise! Pilot, copilot, both flight engineers, and the loadmaster drunker than skunks, asleep in their civvies!

I packed their bags, found money in their pockets to pay the hotel bills, loaded them on the crew bus and deposited them at the base 24-hour cafeteria … The Crossroads … with several trays of black coffee … then,

I … one lonely First Lieutenant went to Basops, filed a flight plan to Rhein Main … got weather … signed for our SECRETS … preflighted the airplane (4 engines, 2 wings, all doors closed, and radios working!) and loaded five …count them … five drunks into their respective seats!

All except the pilot … one 49 year old Major!

I climbed into the left seat and told the copilot to get us airborne, and then … he could go to bed!

The soberest of the engineers kept the fans turning for about two hours … and was relieved by his next soberest, before he should fall over and break his nose!

Seven hours after take-off, I roused both pilots and told them that I just wasn’t smart enough to land this sucker … so one of them had better find his way forward! To this day, neither of those pilots know how in the hell we ever got back to Rhein Main!

Harry Rogers
B-1
 August 11, 2008

As was normally the case with nice weather, I stood behind the pilot seats, with an elbow resting on both seatbacks, to watch the approach. We touched down and reversed props, and then promptly did four … aw, shit … four 360s, sliding down the runway … to finally come to a complete stop with our ass firmly imbedded in a 25 foot snowbank!

Although the airplane sustained no damage, all three flight suits were immediately “class 26ed”! Needless to say, the O’club had a few really good customers that night!

But, boy …. Those were the good old … fun … days!

Harry Rogers
B-1
August 12, 2008
In the 1950s & 60s Chateauroux AB, France was a large supply depot. The Air Transport Squadrons from Dover AFB seemed to have the primary responsibility for transporting most of the stateside cargo/freight inbound to this base, however other units carried the loads to other European and middle east bases. Many of us trash haulers spent a lot of ramp time at Chateauroux (pronounced: Shatter - Rue). Like all ramp time it was pretty boring. However, you know there is always some redeeming thing about every place on God's earth. At Chateaurox AB the redeeming place was the flight line chow hall.

Chow hall you say? You read me right Kemosabee. The flight line chow hall at Chateaurox was widely known for wonderful, to order, three egg omelets. Wow, they were great! One day suddenly the omelets disappeared - Nada. Two of us fairly seasoned First Lieutenants paid the mess sergeant a call - "What about the omelets Sarg?" This poor frustrated fellow clued us in on the newly arrived Second Lieutenant Mess Officer. Lt. Fuzz had overhauled the food budget and found no proviso for omelet makings. This was enough to induce the two of us First Lieutenants to pay Lt. Fuzz a visit. In short time we really had Lt. Fuzz regretting he ever entered the Air Force. It wasn't long before I heard that the succulent omelets returned and were to be offered until the base closed.
Bill Day
61-09
August 13, 2008
Once in a while I take a long look at the guest book and sit in awe of some of the experiences some of you have behind you.

Having little to contribute in that area myself, flying in Old Shakeys for a couple of years, I have come up with a question that someone's bound to be able to answer.

Around Winter Solstice time period, last time around, I took note of the sunrise and sunset times as found in the local newspaper. Seems that sunrise and sunset times reverse their progression rather gradually. Nothing new there but sunrise and sunset times don't reverse together. They occur about a month apart. First one reverses around a week into December and the other a week or so into January. Anyone have an answer to that?

I'm impressed with the recollections of some of you. Sure I can tell some "war stories" but would be embarrassed to try to pass them off to this league. What impresses me is the details like equipment nomenclature. Many of the experiences truly are impressive.

I recall really liking the stops on Wake Island. The island was civilian run, balmy, and casual. The visitor quarters had no glass in the windows, just wooden slats on an angle to shed rain, which I seldom saw there. The interior doors were screen doors. Winter nights were a little cool as the winds blew through and there were no blankets, as I recall. To wander around in shorts, loose shirt, and shower clogs we could see remnants of the WW II battles there with pieces of airplanes lying around and rusty guns still aiming over the lagoon. Behind the guns were bunk frames and boxes with oriental looking hieroglyphics on them.

Strange thing, I left as a O-2 and about 2 1/2 years later got a letter promoting me to O-4. I hadn't connected in any way to the military in those intervening years except to work in an AF recruiting office as an electrical apprentice.

Now that was a cute experience. Naturally the recruiters were interested in this young kid (I was carded up until I was 27) and they asked a few questions about my interest/experience with the military. How they looked at me and treated me after I had responded to "and what did you do in the AF?" by telling them I was a navigator.

Congratulations to you all for your experiences and accomplishments. Perhaps without much appreciation by most,, my focus for most of the time since I left the AF has been interesting people with Bible principles and promises for a peaceful world. I've learned that it takes much less effort and resources to work at getting along than winning over disagreements.

My heart aches for those that are hurting. I long for an assured time when "no one will say he is sick." Meanwhile I wish that for you all. For those of us that can say that despite the decades behind us, I'm grateful.

I thank Bill, especially, since, by my observance, he's done so much to gather us together.

Peter Siegrist
August 14, 2008
(The first half of this message was omitted ... it doesn't make any sense as it is posted on the website!)

***********************************************************************************************************************************************

Regarding the Keflavick tales … I spent many a night there! However, one such night never happened!

Returning from a mission to Northern Scotland … that’s another tale entirely … we overflew Keflavick and proceeded to Goose Bay.

Goose Bay reported an RCR of “zilch” … but the pilot decided we could handle it! The runway was glazed ice and the weather was clear and a million, visibility …

As was normally the case with nice weather, I stood behind the pilot seats, with an elbow resting on both seatbacks, to watch the approach. We touched down and reversed props, and then promptly did four … aw, shit … four 360s, sliding down the runway … to finally come to a complete stop with our ass firmly imbedded in a 25 foot snowbank!

Although the airplane sustained no damage, all three flight suits were immediately “class 26ed”! Needless to say, the O’club had a few really good customers that night!

But, boy …. Those were the good old … fun … days!

Harry Rogers
B-1
August 29, 2008
I propose a NEW Topic:   Strange Sightings
To which I add:
In September 1966 my first wife had been home in Oregon on leave with our 1+ year old son, and were traveling back to RJTC as "Space Available" on a Flying Tiger CL44.  It was probably 0300+- local; we had long passed the Aleutian Islands and were headed down the TRANSPAC track not far from the Russian coast.  Everyone on board (at least in the passenger cabin) was asleep.  I was sitting on the Starboard side of the A/C and looked out over the wing, kind of staring off toward the horizon knowing I was looking into Russian territory.  I loved the drone of those turboprops, we were at FL250, and it was a smooth "quiet" flight.
Consider the folowing:  How far away was the horizon on our line of site?  The formula:
Square root of 25,000' = 158.1, times 1.23 = 194.4nm line-of-site to the horizon.
(This formula is a basic formula for navigation on water when looking for bouy/marker heights on marine charts, and your distance from such).
Back to story: As I was looking into Russia, I saw a huge fireball appear  what appeared to be at wingtip level of the A/C, and in considering the formula above, it certainly was less than 194nm away.  It was not so bright as to blind one, but looked like a huge Orange sitting in one spot - not moving, not changing in shape, it held its position and altitude.  I thought "oh great; the Russians are testing another nuclear device".  This was different.  No intial blast from the ground (probably an air-drop), no cloud/shock formations, no turbulence on us.
This Orange "ball" just sat there doing nothing.   It seemed as if two minutes went by - then it "turned off".   Or rather,  it turned into a "black hole".  I looked away for a second to let my eyes adjust and looked back - the "black hole" was still there.  I looked away behind the A/C and back again.  Still there.  Same size as the former "Orange", not moving up down or sidewise.  It was actually DARKER than the night pitch black sky around it.  I thought "man - that's wierd".  Then after SEVERAL seconds, bright white objects began to "shoot out" of the "black hole", one by one, until 5 or 6 had shot out and fallen to the earth, streaming a firey contrail.  Shortly thereafter, the "black hole" disappeared.  Nothing else followed.
I sat there in my seat trying to figure out what to do or say about this event, but we were still several hours out of RJTC.  If I'd been in "Old Shakey" I would have sent a CIRVIS (sp) report.  I noted the GMT. Aha - Got up, crawled out of my window seat, went to the back and woke up one of the Stewardess's.  I asked her to go up to the cockpit and asked the flight crew for our Lat/Long and cruising altitude, and airspeed.  She was a little bewildered at first but dutifully did as I asked.
She came back with the data and said: "The Copilot wanted to know if you saw it too".  I told her to tell him I did.  She came back and said the Copilot was wondering what we sholud do about it.  I told her to tell him we could send a CIRVIS report now or wait til we get to Tachikawa and I would send a report from the Command Post.
Nothing further heard, I reported it on a CIRVIS form at RJTC when we got there.
No further action was received or done from my perspective.
OK Guy's --------------- Anyone know what we saw?   Any other of these Strange Encounters?
Any other CIRVIS (somebody correct my spelling) reports from ya'll?
Have a Great Day,

Gary Olson
August 31, 2008
Well you 61-09 regulars know that I tend to be long-winded and verbose about my past aviation days.  Of course, it is predictable that you would hear from me on the subject of CIRVIS reports.  Most of you do not know that Mr. Olson (Gary) has extensive experience in Oceanic Air Traffic Control and the security aspect thereof.  He and I communicated over the years on various ATC center frequencies.  Gary is a first class fellow.
Now for my CIRVIS story.  Toward the end of the Cuban Crisis, I was loaned for one mission to a Reserve C-124 unit at Donaldson AFB, SC.  Since I was an instructor navigator, my parent squadron put a student navigator on the trip with me.  The incident happened on the return leg from Kindley AFB, Bermuda to Charleston AFB, SC.  We were just at the edge of the ADIZ westbound, experiencing HF communications difficulties, with the student navigator at the desk working Loran.  Be mindful that the reservist copilot had purchased a zoom 16mm film camera at a PX on the trip.  Suddenly someone (copilot ?) says over intercom, “Hey guys checkout this ship on the water, it looks like a submarine.” The odd thing about this submarine was it appeared to have large wooden crates on the deck.  As we approached, the sub submerged and some wooden objects appeared to be floating in the water.  Naturally, this close to the critical days of the Cuban Crisis we were all wired about Russian ships, especially this close to the huge naval base at Charleston.  The A/C told the copilot to prepare a CIRVUS report and asked me for a current position.  Fortunately, I noted the time as we passed the submarine. 
The student navigator worked back to the best-known position at that time and I worked up a new Loran fix.  In short time, the copilot came up on USAF Airways HF and said, “CIRVIS, CIRVIS, and CIRVIS.”  Suddenly the whole world wanted to talk to us.  The Airways operator gave us a UHF frequency and a call sign for a USN vessel (probably a Destroyer?) with an onboard TACAN.  They asked us for our bearing and distance.  Almost immediately the USN GCI ship cleared us direct to Charleston AFB right through restricted airspace.  Fighters were scrambled from Charleston AFB. 
Once it became obvious that this was all ‘for the record,’ I was busy obtaining the best possible position information.  With that in mind this drama continues.  After landing at Charleston AFB, the ground controller told us to shutdown on the parallel taxiway.  There were literal lines of gray USN vehicles waiting for us.  The cockpit soon filled with important looking Naval officers in Class A uniforms - all with a couple pounds of gold on their sleeves.  One of them asked me, “Lt. did you get a good look at that submarine?” I replied, “No Sir, as I was pretty busy trying to tie down a good navigation position.”  (Or something to that effect.)  A couple others piped up, “I saw the sub real well Sir.”  Big mistake!  Four hours later, I was relaxing around the O’Club pool with a brewsky while the eager beavers were at an intelligence office on the Navy Base looking at sub photos.  Do you have any idea how ill trained USAF crewmembers are regarding the rigging of submarines?   The Navy confiscated the 16 mm file, but promised to return it later to the copilot (did not).  We were left with the impression it was a Russian sub. 
So Gary, yes I was once involved with a CIRVIS report.
Bill Day
61-09/B-4       
September 2, 2008
Good Grief, Gary. Now you have done it. For the next six months, we are going to hear all about Mister Day’s little green men that marched up and down the wing of his 747 in their jock straps and combat boots, singing Show Me The Way To Go Home.

Harry Rogers
B-1
September 2, 2008
Wow! you guys have seen it or done it all.  I've just been an electrician for almost all of the past 43 years since leaving the AF.  And you don't have to ask me if I ever got a shock.  Yes, but I was still in the AF.  It was on my first wedding night.


Peter

September 15, 2008
Wow gentlemen! Our Texas classmates are swimming. Wall Street is in chaos. It is even starting to look scary to ride commuter trains. Enough already!

How about some humorous relief? Share your “I learned about navigation from this" experiences. Remember that as you share your military and aviation related tales, stretching the truth is not a reportable offense on this website.

BTW, I heard a rumor that our webmaster Terry Higgins is referring high school football. How many of us have the umph left to chase high school kids up and down a football field?

Bill Day, 61-09/B-4

Now we know why Bush went to the Olympics!
Editors note: President Bush was a former F-102 Pilot.
September 17, 2008
A little Non 61-09 humor...

Yesterday I was at Wal-Mart buying a large bag of Purina dog chow for my loyal pet, Sheriff the Wonder Dog, and was in the checkout line when the woman behind me asked if I had a dog.
So, since I'm retired and have little to do, on impulse I told her that no, I didn't have a dog, I was starting the Purina Diet again. I added that I probably shouldn’t, because I ended up in the hospital last time, but that I'd lost 50 pounds before I woke up in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete so it works well and I was going to try it again (I have to mention here that practically everyone in line was now enthralled with my story.)

Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because the dog food poisoned me. I told her no and that I had stepped off a curb to sniff an Irish Setter's ass and a car hit us both.

I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack he was laughing so hard. Wal-Mart has asked me not to shop there anymore.

Better watch what you ask retired people. They have all the time in the world to think of crazy things to say.

Chris (I chase cats) Neale
October 6, 2008
Dear Classmates and Friends,

The eternal clock seems to keep ticking. Now it would be comforting to me if my ticker would also keep ticking. My 50th high school reunion is Oct. 10-12th in Indiana. Doubtful I will attend.

Most of you fellows remember working for and with the WWII vets? I recall one C-124 flight from Prestwick, Scotland to Verona, Italy with a Lt. Col. who had flown bombers in WWII. We were approaching an airfield in France – Abbeville, at the mouth of the Somme on the English Channel. I was sitting in the right seat and chatting with the Colonel while navigating. The airfield displayed vivid evidence of the WWII allied bombings. Potholes were overgrown with grass, but evident from the air. The Colonel described the terror inflicted upon his fellow aviators by the ME-109s flown off that airfield. He described the frightening sight of the yellow prop spinners of the ME-109s, their unit signature. I asked how long it took him to get his 25 missions – he never finished 25. He was shot down and ended the war as a POW.

The colonel’s incredible generation is passing away with frightful numbers. God bless their souls.

Tell your stories fellows.

Bill Day
October 7, 2008

Every other weekend I get to spend a few wonderful hours as a volunteer at the 390th BG Museum located on the Pima Air and Space Museum grounds in Tucson. My partner on Sunday afternoons is a good friend and fellow pilot, Duane Bennett. Ben, as he likes to be called, just celebrated his 89th birthday and got to enjoy a flight in a restored B-17 as a guest of the CAF which flew it down here from Phoenix. Ben is an 8th AF veteran who has 31 missions out of England under his belt, the equivalent of the required 35 because on two, his was the lead ship in the Group. His tour included watching the DDay landings from 24,000 ft and being chased to the English Channel by a flight of Bf-109s. An excellent aviation artist named Heinz Krebs used the story of one of his flights for his painting entitled "Last Man Standing", named as such because his was the only aircraft of his squadron to return from a mission over Schweinfurt. As bent and infirm as he is Ben used his cane and did some rather difficult squeezing and crawling through the bomb bay but he proudly stood between the pilot's seats with tears in his eyes for the entire flight. Another docent from the 390th by the name of Andy Anzanos rode along on the same flight. Andy was a gunner in the 390th Bomb Group who flew 25 missions earlier in the war. Brad Haywood, also one of our senior docents, came out to visit , but was unable to join them on the flight. For those history buffs in the class, Brad was an engineer on the D and E models. He was a crew member on one of the B-17s that arrived over Hickham Field during the Pearl Harbor attacks.

I only wish that all of you could enjoy talking with these heroes as much as I have over the past seven years. All I had to do was to volunteer once in a while. Just to have shared in their memories I would have paid!

If you ever travel I-10 through Arizona, stop in at the Pima Air Museum and meet some of these guys. But don't wait too long, they won't be around forever.

Oh, and the museum has a couple of a old airplanes you might enjoy. I know the Bill might be interested in the antique C-124.

Lee
October 8, 2008
Lee,
Thanks for a great message. What an honor to rub shoulders with the WWII vets. The respect for their generation continues to grow as we learn more about them. They were incredible. How bout some of your own experiences? They need not contain heroics or acts of valor, confessions of deeds of stupidity are welcome as well. I have many of those in the locker of my memory.

One thing I would still like to read is a more detailed account of the navigator techniques used on missions. I tried to get Brother Higgins to fess up and tell us what he did in the back seat of the F-89, but he did not come forth with much. I suspect the RO was continuously busy converting magnetic heading to grid, or perhaps strategizing about captivating the women.

How about the rest of you.

Bill Day
October 14, 2008
High Altitude “Pressure Suit” Navigation (RB-57F)

Since “Brother William” asked about various techniques used by us in
our official jobs as Directors of Aircraft (navigators), I thought I
would pass on to you what was involved in keeping that very long
winged airplane on the ‘straight and narrow.’ We used basic DR
combined with celestial and Tacan when available. It would have been
familiar to any table nav. flying in MATS, TAC, or SAC.

As to what we had available; there was the N-1 compass, the canopy
mounted sextant, a doppler system, a true airspeed indicator (very
accurate), altimeter, and a very accurate total (true) temperature
indicator that read down to .10 of a degree, plus a Tacan system.
Doppler was “iffy” most of the time, but usually worked on climb and
descent, so that helped in that realm of flight.

We used all of these to keep track of our position and had no
specific number of celestial shots as SAC had for various missions.
We used the sextant if Tacan was not available. We routinely got
Tacan reception out to the maximum range of 199 nm, so that was
usually available most anywhere we went, except over water. Long
overwater and most ferry flights were made at night so that we had
“three star” available for accurate navigation.

The sextant had a number of inherent errors due to the installation,
and while these cancelled themselves out when using ‘three-star,’
they were all there in spades when using just a sunline or moonline.
You had to be careful to apply all the various corrections and do
basic, but accurate DR when this was your only means of location. We
needed accurate positions to go along with the results of our primary
mission that was shipped off to the customer, immediately upon our
landing.

One of the benefits of navigation above 60,000 feet was that the wind
was always 270/15. This was almost always what we encountered and
varied only a few knots and maybe 20 degrees. We used this to our
advantage and could DR accurately for quite some distance if we
needed to wait for an accurate fix. The ‘pacing’ of the navigation
would have been familiar to anyone that was used to flying at 410
knots TAS. We had “events” or “activities” that were done at certain
times or certain locations and we had to pace our navigation to blend
in with these operations.

We carried a small canvas pouch with all our supplies and charts, and
carried an extra set of navigation tools in the event something was
dropped. Nothing could be retrieved in flight, so you needed a spare.
I found it easy to use thin parachute string to tie everything
together so that nothing fell very far if dropped. I still carried
extras.

The backseater ran the checklists, and talked on the radios, but most
of this happened during the beginning and end of the flight with just
the occasional position report during cruise. We always flew with
“hot mic” selected so that we could hear each other breath, so it was
easy to tell if old “what’s his face” up front had dozed off. A not
so gentle clearing of the throat usually brought him back to the flight.

It was by no means overwhelming, but you were busy most of the time,
and had little time for much of anything else. In contrast, the pilot
spent most of his time reading a book or doing something to keep
awake. Most flights were 8-10 hours long and rather tiring, but
always interesting.

Once in awhile, Center would advise us that another aircraft was
operating in the same airpspace at a similar altitude and we would
have to provide our own separation as we were, “VFR On Top Above
FL600.” These were U-2’s and we were always proud that we were
usually above them, even if by just a little. Our maximum altitude
was 3-4000 feet higher than theirs, but it would depend on where a
particular plane was in its profile as to which one would be higher.
SR-71’s were a lot higher and we never got calls on them.
It was a great navigator assignment and I never would have left if I
had not gotten a pilot training assignment. I had no desire to go
back to the plane as a pilot, as the nav. job was the best seat in
the ‘house’... I did try for the U-2 but my seating height was almost
three inches over the limit and I was disqualified because of that.

Chris Neale
October 15, 2008
Guys,

Don't know what happened with all the QUESTION MARKS in the previous 
story. When I wrote it, I put quotations where they all appeared. 
Must be something that happened in the transition to the guestbook.

Sorry 'bout that...

Chris
Editors note: Chris, the original e-mail did not have any question marks received. It must have been lost in the translation. Terry
October 15, 2008
Oh, and by the way, did I mention in the previous story on flying in 
the backseat of the RB-57F, that you had to do all those things while 
wearing a four-layer glove! It made things just a little more 
challenging...

Chris
October 26, 2008
During our training time at Harlingen, we were all issued three large 51-4? manuals that were the official USAF word on navigation.  During our 61-09 era these manuals were heavily influenced and biased toward SAC.  MATS had their own forms and methods, many derived from airlines like Pan American.  I recently found my three manuals in the bottom of a rusty filing cabinet.  None to my surprise, Volume III was the most well worn.  Volume III was uniquely bound with a many ringed binder.  Early in my bubble heads days, I frequently extracted this manual from my flight bag for a reference guide.  Over the years it came in very handy.  Where else could I learn how to properly preflight a driftmeter? 
I always confused how to apply variation when plotting NDB and VOR bearings.  Without guidance from Volume III I might have missed North American, or worse yet, Drifter’s Reef on Wake Island.
Bill Day
61-09/B-4
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