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Show a (D) ES MY .Cgfo" 1$V CdD-FIILOT Wf ' 5Yu5Co. Robert L.Scott WHU REUiA.SE. KPVCk I tb 11017 inns nr: Tonne Robert Scott, whose freal ambition It to ly, makes kli own gUder at Macoa Ga., pulls off from a roof, and crashes IT leet to the round. A Cberokea roil bush probably saved hli life. He now goes In tor build-Bf build-Bf scale model planet and wlni a Boy Scout aviation merit badge. At aa auction auc-tion tale he buyt hit Irit plane ter $75. Be (oca to Ft. McPberioa and enlists In the regular army as a private. Winning a West Point competitive exam he Is admitted, aad In the summer of 1932 after being graduated and commissioned as a second lieutenant of Infantry he toes to Europe, which he tours on a motorcycle. He finally arrive! at Randolph Field, Texas. This It it. CHAPTER III Though I had flown before In the prehistoric crates of the past, this fact had nothing to do with whether wheth-er or not I would get through the course. On the side against me was the fact that during my unsupervised un-supervised flying I had doubtless de-veloped de-veloped many faults that were not for the Army pilot to be proud of. In a case like mine, some pilots think they know it all; therefore there Is nothing to learn. Others make such an effort to please their Instructors that this very eagerness works against them as their own worst enemy the result of tenseness. My case was more of this last order. I knew I could fly the ship but I tried to carry out my instructor's instruc-tor's orders even before he gave them. I listened almost spellbound through our oral communications system In that primary trainer that speaking-tube which we called "gosport" and which at best was hard to understand over the rattle of that Wright Whirlwind engine. I used to try to read his mind, execute exe-cute his every little whim. I even tried to outguess Lieutenant Lan-don Lan-don and have the stick and rudder snoving In the right direction before be-fore he could get the orders out of his mouth. Now thereby hangs a tale. I was not only trying to look In his rear-view rear-view mirror and actually read his lips when I couldn't hear through the gosport, but was diligently looking look-ing about the sky for other harebrained hare-brained student pilots. He must have realized my eagerness, for he gave me every break and for the many boners I pulled I needed lots of breaks. One day, at a bare four-hundred feet altitude, I thought I heard the instructor say, "Okay, Scott, put it in a dive." I peered around first and then at the nearby ground, for it looked very low to be going into a dive. Then like a flash I thought I understood: Why, he's trying to sea if I'm ground-shy I'll show him I'm not With my teeth clenched and probably prob-ably with my eyes closed, I pushed that PT-3 into a vertical dive at point-blank altitude. Just as the cotton fields down below seemed about to come right into my lap I felt Ted Landon grab the control! and taw him hastily point to his head with the sign that he was "taking "tak-ing over." We came out just over the mesquite trees, and he roughly slipped the ship into a bumpy landing land-ing in a cotton field. Then, while I was trying to add things up and realizing already that I had tied it up again, I saw Ted very methodically methodi-cally raise his goggles and with great deliberation climb out of the front cockpit He glared at me but said sweetly enough: "Scott, what in the g d hell are you trying to do what was that maneuver? I said glide G-L-I-D-E. Don't you at least know what a normal glide is in all this time? Weakly I said, "Sir, I thought you said a dive." I could see Ted fight for control; then he told me the next time I had him at an altitude so low, not to attempt to think but just try to keep the ship straight and level. On another day, after about two weeks of instruction, we had been making only take-olTs and landings, and I knew the time was approaching approach-ing when I would solo. As usual, that realization made me more and more tense as the end of the period ncared. On the take-offs I'd tense up and forget all about holding the nose straight, and on the landings I'd Jerk back on the stick instead of easing it slowly back Into the approach ap-proach to landing stall. All I could do was day-dream about: Here we are, Scott, Just about to take over and prove to the world that we can do all of this by ourselves. Around the field in traffic I couldn't hold the correct altitude, and my instructor in-structor was cussing a blue streak. He'd yell about my having graduated graduat-ed from Weil Point and say that he knew I was supposed to have soma bralm but he hadn't been able to find them. After each bumpy landing land-ing he'd look around at mt and hold his nose that was symbolic enough for me. I finally bounced into another an-other landing that nearly Jarred his teeth out Then, at usual he ihowed what a prince of a fellow he was, and showed me that an Instructor Instruc-tor had to become accustomed to tudenta' making mistakes-knowledge which Hood mt in good stead ytsrs later when I became aa Instructor. In-structor. Lieutenant Landon got out of the front teat, taking hli parachute with j kim, and I knew the moment of mo- i t ments bad come. As he leaned over my cockpit and reached inside the ship for the Form One, the time-book time-book always carried in Army ships, I saw only his hand and thought he was offering to shake hands with me. So I grabbed the hand and shook it He just grinned and growled: "With landings like those I can do you very little good, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you kill me. Do you think you can take this thing around the field all by yourself your-self and get it back down?" "Yes. Sir," I yelled. "Then take it around and make a landing as close to me as you can." I had never felt so good. Taxying out I could see the world only in a rosy light. My head was really whirling. Pointing the ship Into the wind, I over-controlled into a normal nor-mal student takeoff and was in the air. Honestly, the living of this life was wonderful here I was an actual Army Pilot with my own ship, and up here free from the shackles of the earth. I envied no one. Circling Cir-cling in traffic I'd "get my head in the clouds" and gain or lose altitude but that didn't matter. I was solo-inc. Then, at the fourth leg of my traffic pattern, I began my glide in towards Lieutenant Landon. By the gods be had said, "Land as close to me as you can," and I was surely going to make that ship stop right by him I wouldn't have my instructor in-structor being ashamed of his student stu-dent Even before I got to the moment mo-ment to level off, I could see that I would land right on top of him. But a Gen. C. L. Chennaalt, who waa Colonel Scott's superior la Burma and China. the Lieutenant was running, throwing throw-ing hia parachute away just to get clear of a student who had really taken him literally. Anyway, I missed him and plunked the ship into the ground after aft-er levelling off too high. Well, I held it straight and there was no ground loop. As it stopped I breathed again, and I could feel the smile that cracked my face. A pilotl I had landed the ship and it was actually in one piecel Looking back over my shoulder I saw Lieutenant Landon. He waa Just standing there about half a anile away. Then I made another mistake. He raised his hands and I thought he waved mt in I didn't know until the next day that he had been shaking his fist at me for trying to land right on him. So I taxied in, never giving a thought to how my instructor was going to get in with his chute you see, Randolph is a big field and I had left him more than a milt from our hangar. I had parked the plane and was in and beginning to dress when I began to realize what I had done. Looking out the window win-dow I could see him trudging across the hot toil of Texas, in the sun, with ships landing all around him. My Lord, I had tied it up again! I tried to get my feet back into my flying-suit, tripped and fell, got up and ran out of the hangar door. I guess I wss going to take the ship and taxy out and pick him up. But I had lost again the ship was being taken from the line by the next student stu-dent I Just stood there with sinking sink-ing heart as he came up. But he didn't even look my way, except to say, "It's kinda hot out there." Then he just glared and threw his cbutt In his locker. Well, I nearly worried myself to death that night. I knew he'd more than likely tell mt after the next day's ride that I wai the damnedest student he'd ever seen, and that I didn't have a praytr of making a pilot But next day ho didn't say a word. All day I started to go over and tell him how lorry I wai, but I guess I didn't have the nervt. During my flying training, I had girl trouble, too. You would no doubt call It "trouble," but I knew it was the real thing. I had a Chevrolet Chevro-let then, and every week-end I just had to tee my girl, even if she did live over thirteen hundred miles away in Georgia. To get to aet her, I would drive that thlrteen-hundred-odd miles to her college or her home la Fort Valley, spend anywhere any-where from ten minutes to two hours with her, then jump back In the car and drlrt madly for Texat and the Monday morning flying period. I always had to delay my start until after Saturday morning inspection. inspec-tion. That meant that I had to average av-erage just about fifty-four miles an hour, even counting the time I saw the girL in the forty-seven hours that I had from after inspection on Saturday to flying time at eight o'clock Monday mornings I Week-end after week-end I drove madly across the South from the middle of Texas to the middle of Georgia. On one of these cross-country dashes, I weakened and was fool enough to ask the Commandant of Student Officers if I could go to Atlanta. I can still set and hear Capt Aubrey Strickland saying. "Atlanta "At-lanta what?" And me meekly replying, re-plying, "Atlanta, Georgia. Sir." He Just said; "Hell, no." and I turned and walked from his office with the good Intention of obeying the order. But within the hour I had weakened. weak-ened. I filled my rumble-sett tank, which held fifty-five gallons of fuel, and was off to see hrr for the short time available. '.Yes, she was, and still is some flri.) On the return trip I burned! out two bearings near Patterson, Louisiana. Jimmy We-delL We-delL one of the well-known speed flyers, helped me to get it fixed after I explained the predicament I was in. But even with five of us working work-ing on the number one and number six bearings of the Chevy, I was twelve hours late getting back to Randolph Field. Aa I walked into the bachelor officers' offi-cers' quarters that I shared with Bob TerrilL I expected any minute to hear the sad news. But I was too afraid to ask for details, so I just waited for Bob to say, "You are to report to the General tomorrow for court martial for A.W.O.L. in violation of specific instructions." Finally he put down his letter writing, writ-ing, looked at me almost in disgust dis-gust and broke out: "Scott, you are the damned luckiest luck-iest man that ever lived! You didn't get reported today. Nol This is the first time in the history of Randolph Field that it's been too cold to fly. And it wasn't only too cold to fly, it was too cold to have ground school, because the heating system had failed. We haven't flown today, wt haven't been to ground school. So they don't even know that you've been over there to see that girL" In all of these trips to sec my girl over In Georgia, I drove 84,000 miles. I wort out two cars and you'll probably agree that her father fa-ther had full right to say to her: "Why don't you go on and marry him? It'll be far cheaper than his driving over here every week-end." When I had finished Primary and Basic training at Randolph, I almost al-most let down my hair and wept though, oa the day that Commandant Comman-dant of Student Officers called over and aald that now I could have permission to go to Georgia, to see my girL I thanked him and went Well, when graduation camt at Kelly and I had those wings pinned on my chest, I had tht wonderful feeling that I had gont a little way towards tht goal I wanted. I was at last aa Army pilot ' Never did tht world seem so good. And then out of a clear sky camt orders for mt to go to duty in Hawaii. That wai pretty bad because I wanted to get married before I went out of tht country, and aa yet the girl hadn't gotten her degree from college. Probably if I had gont to Hawaii, I would havt figured out somt way to havt flown a P-12 back over every ev-ery week but I didn't havt to do it after all Tht Chief of tht Air Corps camt down a ftw days later and I waited until ht had had lunch in tht Officers' Offi-cers' Mess. Then I walked over and laid, "General, can I ask you a question?" "Sure, sit down," he aald, and I told him the whole story and I madt it like this: "General I know that I'm supposed to go where I'm sent because I'm in the Army, but I've got a girl over in Georgia, and I think I can do a lot better Job wherever you send me if you can glvt mt timt to talk her into marrying me." Ht didn't appear ap-pear to bt very impressed at first but he took my namt and serial number, and two or three dayi later, lat-er, when he got back to Washington, I was ordered to Mitchel Field, N. Y. As I drove my car towards my first tactical assignment I kept reaching up to feel my silver wings on my chest I wanted to prove that it wasn't a dream. This was what I had been working for since 1020. Now I was actually riding towards tht glory of tactical Army aviation. I recall that I had Just about completed the trip to Long Island, when something happened that will keep mt remembering tht fall of 1033. Just before I reached tht Holland Tunnel, I was suddenly forced to the curb by three can all bristling with sawed-off shotguns and Tommy-guns. Tommy-guns. I Jumped out pretty mad, but saw that many guns wert covering mt and that it was tht polict. They looked at my papers, but laid anyont could have mimeographed orders. They searched tht car and mt, took down tht Texat license number, and even copied the engine number. All tht time I tried to talk with tht flashlights In my eyes, (TO BC CONTINUED) |