Pilots learned to make fuel last

During the critical years of World War II, our bomber crews in the air wars over Europe and Japan were not getting the best fuel efficiency and longest range from their engines on extended bombing missions. As a result, our Army Air Corps contracted with the former Pan American Airlines in Miami, Fla., who had extensive long range flight experience, to instruct a select group of their pilots and navigators in long range cruise control. Completing the schooling, we were to return to our home bases and instruct others in what we had learned. In my case, I would return to our four-engine flight instructor air base in Tennessee and establish the course for our flight instructors, who would in turn pass it on to the new pilots they were teaching.
Arriving at the Pan American Base, I was pleasantly surprised to find a Bucknell classmate and Sunbury lad, Howard Malick, a navigator, also in the new class. The program recommended that a pilot and navigator pair together for the course; happily, Howard and I did so.
At the completion of the ground school, a long range flight out over the South Atlantic Ocean was the final phase of the course. On the day it was scheduled, we flew into a hurricane out over the Ocean and fought our way out of it without completing the flight portion of the course. The Pan Am instructors recommended our departing the area with its approaching hurricane, and using our ground school training, make the practice flight from our home base.
Returning to my base in Tennessee, I reported to the commanding general of the Southeast Training Command. He authorized me to make the necessary flight and report back to him with its results. In addition, I was ordered to prepare a Long Range Cruise Control Syllabus for all flight instructors on the four-engine B-24 Liberator.
I planned a long range flight from Tennessee to Los Angeles, Calif., and return. Three flight instructors and one navigator were selected to make the flight and assist with the mission. While writing this article, we went back into my World War II Flight Logs and located the recordings of the flights. The first entry on April 16, 1944, recorded the westbound flight as 15 hours, 35 minutes, and the return flight (with the wind) of 14 hours, 45 minutes.
The westbound flight was mostly routine, although in and out of some weather. An instrument approach had to be made at Los Angeles because of the typical LA fog. Next morning, we had a problem; the airport had no gas for a military plane. However, the civilian lady flight dispatcher advised that Palm Springs had the necessary fuel, and it was only a short flight from Los Angeles. Then, in front of my assembled crew, she smilingly commented that some young female movie starlets were vacationing at Palm Springs and left their phone numbers for any “nice Air Corps guys.” I replied, “Thanks, but I’ve got a general waiting in Tennessee for this flight, no thanks.” Hearing my reply, some of the crew moaned.
After that, I had to file a clearance for the return flight. Finishing it, I went out to check on the refueling of our plane. The crew chief staff sergeant told me the #4 engine tachometer was inoperative and it would take an overnight to fix it. Remembering the tempting movie starlet invitation, I smelled the “proverbial rat.” Angrily, I ordered him to round up to the crew and get them back to the plane, because, “With our without a #4 tachometer, this plane was flying back to Tennessee because I have to answer to a general!”
There were some long faces, but everyone returned in time for takeoff. The flight back took us over the picturesque Grand Canyon. The fueling delay got us back to our base in Tennessee after midnight into some weather and low clouds. A good instrument approach was executed and we landed safely.
The general was pleased with the results — the crew was no pleased for another reason.
P.S. I often wondered if they really were “move starlets”?

July 14, 2008 11:30 am