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
|
next message
|