MY WAR

Our speculation was that one of the planes had executed a stall and in the process of recovery it dived onto the top of Bill’s plane.  Why the Instructor in the plane doing stalls did not bail out was unclear.  There was the possibility that he had been knocked unconscious in the accident and thus was unable to bail out before the plane hit the ground.

All through our training, it had been drilled into us:  “Keep your head and eyes moving.”  You never hit the airplane you see.”  “ALWAYS ‘clear’ the area before doing aerobatics.”  After this accident, all eyes were moving like flies in an empty pop bottle and all heads were swiveling to the extent that a smoking neck wouldn’t have been much of a surprise.

Difficult as it was, I could not let myself become another victim of Bill’s accident.  Helping me to put things in perspective was the hectic pace of the training program.

Having over twenty hours flying time, I was beginning to feel really comfortable in the air.  Before each solo flight the Instructor would give us assignments of maneuvers to practice.  So, on these occasions it would be off into the “blue” and then head out to the practice area which was some distance from the field.  On the way to and from the practice area would be “my” time --- time to lazily wander through the sky, enjoy the sights and marvel at the fact that I was actually flying all by myself.

On really clear days it was possible to see the mountains off toward Yosemite to the east, a hint of the ocean over the top of the mountains to the west and the vast expanse of the San Joaquin Valley to the north and south.  Also watch the trains, like well disciplined worms, glide along the silver threads of the rail.  See ant-like people scurrying about in their activities and the bug-like automobiles crawling along their well laid out pathways.

* * *

As each plane was reached, the truck stopped and the assigned crew got out.

We reached our airplane.  Columbus got on board and laid out his charts and other equipment.  Ingleman ducked around the open bomb bay doors and checked the bomb loading.  Columbus''s and John''s guns had been installed earlier by the enlisted men of our crew.  Tom, McCue and I were met by the Ground Crew Chief.  He filled us in on the idiosyncrasies and/or uncorrected problems possessed by "his" airplane, U.S.A.A.F. serial number 42-97376.  He accompanied the three of us as we made the preflight inspection.  Satisfied, Tom, McCue and I swung up through the forward hatch and pulled it shut and latched it.

Daylight was beginning to show in the East.  As we settled into our seats and pulled our seat belts tight, it was time to check the rest of the crew.  Through the intercom each position was called to make sure the intercom worked and everybody was on board.  Then, Tom and I went through the checklist up to the point:  "engine start".  We had now to sit and wait until our watches indicated it was time to start engines. 

The second hand on my watch passed 12.  I pointed the index finger of my right hand toward the instrument panel in front of Tom.  He pushed the number one engine starter switch to the "energize" position.  Slowly, the whine of the starter became louder as the inertia wheel gained speed.  A few seconds later, I signaled Tom with a clenched fist, and he moved the starter switch to the "engage" position.  The prop on number one engine started to turn and after several revolutions, I moved the number one engine magneto switch to the "on both" position.  First, a single cylinder fired then as the other cylinders joined in the chorus of power, the prop speed increased in little jumps and white smoke began to billow from under the engine nacelle