Eleven organizations, 14 different airplanes and 20 years of military aviation.

Among my good friends in the general aviation community is a gentleman named Paul Berge. He served in­­ the U.S. Army during the Vietnam war, graduated from the University of California at Santa Cruz and eventually settled in Des Moines, Iowa where he worked as an Air Traffic Controller for 17 years (Paul has lived in the Hawkeye State long enough to call it "Ioway" with no fear of retribution from the natives).

Paul loves flying—especially in the 1946 Aeronca 7AC he recovered and restored—and he spends a lot of time preaching the gospel of general aviation from the bully pulpits of radio, TV and print media. Paul's interest in aviation extends to Uncle Sam's aircraft and he asked me to share my thoughts about the airplanes I flew…what follows is my response to his request.

 

 Primary pilot training – The PA-18 and the T-6

In February 1955, pilot training class 56-I arrived at Stallings Air Base in Kinston, North Carolina. Our training began with ten hours of instruction in the Piper PA-18, a Cub with a 105-horsepower engine. We learned how to take off and land and little else…just enough to prove we could survive three solo landings without bending  the airplane. Most of us soloed near the eight-hour point (those who couldn't solo in ten hours were excused from the program) and we used the rest of the time to fly happily by ourselves in the traffic pattern.
 


Piper PA-18

 
North American T-6 Texan

The remaining 110 hours was flown in the North American T-6. Considering its size and weight, retractable landing gear and a 600-hp engine, the Texan presented a challenge for student pilots with only ten hours of flight time.
 
Before solo
I soloed the T-6 with no difficulty and very shortly thereafter changed the student-airplane relationship in my favor. From that point on, flight training was nothing but fun.
 
After solo

Basic pilot training – The B-25
 
I opted for multi-engine basic training at Vance AFB in Enid, Oklahoma. The airplane du jour was the North American B-25 Mitchell medium bomber, a war-weary veteran that had been drafted for flight training.

 

The Mitchell was much larger and much more complex than our previous airplanes; the takeoff weight for training flights was about 26,000 pounds, the airplane had two 1700-horsepower engines and its systems were jungles of pipes and wires. The curriculum called for 120 hours of flight time, much of which was instrument training.


The B-25 cockpit was surprisingly small. The instrument panel was populated with "steam gauges" and the side walls were lined with thick electrical cables and radio control panels.

We finished basic flight training and added silver wings to our uniforms in February 1956; following the graduation banquet, I was one happy camper.



Advanced training – The B-29

Randolph AFB in San Antonio, Texas hosted the final segment of my formal training. A rather general course, it was intended for pilots transitioning to four-engine prop-driven airplanes; the training vehicle was the Boeing B-29 Superfortress.



The flight engineer, who sat backwards directly behind the copilot, managed the four 2200-horsepower engines and associated systems.
 
 
 
B-29 flight training consisted of eight five-hour missions with two student pilots sharing the stick time. Note the unique flight deck arrangement in the photo below; the circular fuselage and access to the bombardier's station required separate instrument panels and two sets of throttles (four blue knobs below the window sills on each side) for the pilots.




Strategic Air Command (SAC) – The KC-97
 


My first permanent duty station was MacDill AFB in Tampa, Florida; I was assigned to a SAC aerial refueling squadron that operated a fleet of 15 Boeing KC-97 Stratotankers (the photo below was taken during a deployment to a colder clime...gloves and fur-collared jackets were not required in Florida).
 
KC-97 and me



The KC-97 featured a pressurized double-deck fuselage, four R-4360 3500 hp engines and a flying boom in the tail. When fully loaded the tanker weighed 175,000 pounds; it was not uncommon to transfer 50,000 pounds of jet fuel to a thirsty B-47.
 

The flight deck was arranged in the traditional two-pilot style. The flight engineer was seated sideways just behind the pilots; he had a full set of engine controls and several panels with 200-odd gauges and switches for all the airplane systems.
 
 

Flight engineer's panel
Our primary mission was to refuel SAC B-47s in flight; the tankers flew straight and level but the bomber pilots did the hard work, flying a big airplane in close formation with the tanker. This is how aerial refueling looked from the B-47's front seat.

 



The Flying Boxcar – The C-119

I completed my active duty commitment in 1959 and returned to Ohio. Shortly thereafter I was infected with FDD (flying deprivation disease) and joined the 145th Air Transport Squadron, a component of the Ohio Air National Guard (OANG) equipped with Fairchild C-119J Flying Boxcars.

 


The OANG C-119s had two R-3350 turbocharged engines that produced 2200 hp each. At its maximum weight (73,000 pounds) the Boxcar performed reasonably well but like most recip-powered twins it suffered mightily with one engine inoperative.

Typical C-119 flight deck

I flew the Boxcar for two years that were unremarkable from a mission standpoint; the 145th was an aeromedical evacuation squadron but humanitarian flights were few and far between.

Air Rescue Service – The HU-16

In 1962 my civilian employer sent me to Portland, Oregon, where I joined the 304th Air Rescue Squadron, a component of the Air Force Reserve. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to fly the Grumman Albatross amphibian.

 


The HU-16 had no unusual flight characteristics in the air or on the ground but in the water it was more boat than airplane. The "boat" had no brakes but the reversible propellors were invaluable for precision maneuvering in the water.

The engines were Wright R-1820s that generated 1425 hp each. The Albatross was not a fast flyer—cruise speed about 140 knots—but the 1700 gallons of fuel it carried provided a 2500-mile range for search and rescue operations.

Loaded to its maximum weight of 37,000 pounds the HU-16 could get off the ground in 2600 feet. For takeoffs in heavy seas (waves more than eight feet high), four rocket bottles were available to provide 4000 pounds of additional thrust.

 

Typical HU-16 cockpit. Note engine controls overhead.

Neither a great boat nor an outstanding airplane, the Albatross combined features of both in what was probably the most versatile aircraft in the Air Force inventory until the advent of large rescue helicopters.


The KC-97L, the C-54 and the T-33

Another business transfer brought me back to Columbus, Ohio in 1965 and I joined the 160th Air Refueling Group, an Ohio Air National Guard (OANG) unit flying KC-97L Stratotankers from a civilian airport in southwestern Ohio.

 
 
 
The "L" model was a KC-97G that traded its drop tanks for a pair of J-47 jet engines. That change added 12,000 pounds of thrust and made a significant difference in takeoff and aerial refueling performance. I had flown the Stratotanker for three years on active duty, so the KC-97L was mostly déjà vu.

I began a transition program but the commute began to use more time than I had available. When the OANG Wing at Lockbourne AFB in Columbus acquired a Douglas C-54D Skymaster, I switched units and re-upped as a C-54 pilot.

 

 
The C-54 was powered by four R-2000, 1450 hp super-reliable engines…I remember only one inflight shutdown during the 300 hours I flew the Skymaster. The flight engineer's folding seat between the pilots provided access to the controls, indicators and switches for all the airplane systems. Maximum takeoff weight was 73,000 pounds and the normal cruise airspeed was 180 knots.

Typical C-54 cockpit

In 1953 during an ROTC summer camp at Turner AFB in Georgia I drew the long straw for a ride in a Lockheed T-33 Shooting Star. I thought it would be great fun to fly and fourteen years later, I was checked out in this legendary airplane.
 



In addition to the C-54 the OANG at Lockbourne AFB owned a T-33; thanks to some high-quality instruction I soloed after 16 hours of dual and flew it thereafter for 100 hours.

The T-bird was relatively slow during takeoff and climb but when it reached cruise altitude (usually FL350 or higher) it motored along at about 400 knots…not too shabby for an old airplane.


South Korea - The C-47

23 January 1968. The USS Pueblo, a U.S. Navy intelligence ship, was boarded and captured by North Korean forces. In response to this overt act our OANG unit was called to active duty and deployed to South Korea in June. I was one of several non-fighter pilots without an airplane (our C-54 stayed home) but we acquired a C-47 to support the logistic needs of two satellite airbases.

 


The C-47's exterior paint job made it look like a downsized, antique Air Force One. It was powered by two R-1830 engines, weighed 26,000 pounds with a full load and cruised at 160 mph. 

Typical C-47 cockpit
The C-47 required close attention when taxiing, especially in strong surface winds when the airplane thought it was a wind sock; large rudder and aileron inputs were sometimes required and on occasion, asymmetric power came into play. By the time we returned from Korea in June 1969, I had logged about 90 hours in that historic airplane. 
 

U.S. Army Aviation – The L-19 and the U-6

In 1970 I left the Air Guard and accepted a warrant officer slot in the Army National Guard, whose aviation detachment was literally across the street from my office at the Ohio State University Airport…how convenient was that?

 

 
One of two Army airplanes I flew was the L-19 Bird Dog, a Cessna 170 on steroids with tandem seating and a control stick instead of a wheel. It had near-STOL capabilities and was a delight to fly.

 

 
Army airplane #2 was the DeHavilland U-6 Beaver, the bush pilot's favorite. Its 450 hp engine and an efficient wing and flap system enabled a fully loaded Beaver to get off the ground in 1200 feet and land in about the same distance. The airplane was noisy and slow but it could carry virtually anything that would fit through the door.

The warrant officer arrangement worked well for a year until the Army’s weekend schedules and my commitments elsewhere became incompatible; I resigned from the Army Guard and reverted to Air Force inactive reserve status


My "swan song" airplane – The Fairchild C-123 Provider

Several years after separating from the Army Guard program I was reinstated to my former rank in the Air Force Reserve and secured a job flying the C-123K with the 356th Tactical Airlift Squadron at Lockbourne AFB in Columbus, Ohio. 


Typical C-123K

The C-123K was powered by two 2500 hp radial engines and two small jet engines (between the engines and the drop tanks in the photo) that improved takeoff and single-engine performance. It wasn't a STOL airplane but with a full load it could take off and land in surprisingly short distances…about 2000 feet for takeoff and 1500 feet for landing. Rather good performance numbers for a 60,000-pound airplane.

The Provider wallowed in turbulence a bit more than most airplanes and turns required a hefty push on the rudder pedals. It seldom generated more than 150 knots in cruise flight and it may have been the noisiest airplane in the AF inventory…the noise level on the flight deck during takeoff was slightly north of 100 decibels. These negative characteristics were easily overcome or ignored. I logged 400 hours in the C-123K over the next five years.

 
Typical C-123 cockpit

So ends this thumbnail sketch of my military aviation adventures. In June 1979 I had completed 20 years as an Air Force reservist and had filled enough squares to qualify for retirement, so I pulled the plug and moved on. Truth be told, I still miss flying Uncle Sam's airplanes.





















































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