The Skyland post. [volume] (West Jefferson, N.C.) 193?-1988, 1941-10-30
Nephew of Mrs. r. p. Baker
Tells How He Learned to
Fly In u. S. Navy.
By Ems. ]. G.. Bower. Jr.

By Ems. ]. G. Bower, Jr.
Editors note: The following ar
ticle was written by J. C. Bower,
Jr., OF Lexington, which was pub
iShed in recent issue of the ma
tiOnal magazine Flying and Pop
ular Aviation" will be of much
interest here since the author has
both friends and relatives in this
county. He is nephew of Mrs.
r. p. Baker and has often visited
here.)
A Naval aviator learns a lot
about flying. He learns what it's
like to be glued to the back of
the seat during catapult shot.
He learns how it feels to come to
a sudden, stretchy stop in the ar
resting gear on carrier deck.
He learns how to make a down.
wind beach approach in a sea-
plane that just will weathercock.
He learns what happens when a
target rushes headlong at him in
a dive bombing attack. AS his
questing left hand gropes its way
from trim tabs to bomb release
and pulls - the mixture control,
by mistake he learns the bombs
won't go. And of course the en-
CINE won't 60, either. He learns
that, too.
In fact, if he's a passably smart
Naval aviator, he learns that he'd
better never stop learning! The
first 1000 hours are the toughest,
say the wiseacres. And as round
out my eighth hundred, I'm in
clined to think they're right.
For me the most recent proof
of this fact occurred on hot Feb
ruary Friday at Guantanamo Bay,
Cuba, where the U. S. Navy has
long maintained an important
base.
It was 10 minutes before seven,
on a clear Cuban morning. AS I
sat in the cockpit warming up
the 1850 h. p. engine of my Grum-
man F4F-3 monoplane fighter I
noticed that the wind was light
and easterly. The tower duty Of
ficer had the tee set on one-ball
course. That meant my take-off
would be on one of the shorter
runways of McCalla Field, and
directly toward some very rugged
hills rising a couple of hundred
feet above the level of the field.
At that time I had not yet used
this runway for a take-off, and I
made a mental note to go into
left turn right off the end of the
runway. This would head the
plane toward lower and less for
midable distractions.
I turned by attention back to
the cockpit. Cylinder head tenn
perature, $50; oil pressure, go; oil
temperature, rs; fuel pressure, Is.
All set to check the magnetos.
Turning up my constant speed
propeller to 1000 r. p. M, I
Tipped the propeller switch from
automatic" to manual" and
tested each magnetic. It was my
habit to check the magnetos with
the propeller switch in the manual
position. More of this later.
Everything seemed fine, so ]
took the yellow sheet from my
Plane Captain, signed my accept
ance Of the plane for flight, and
TAXED away from the fighter line.
AS I TAXED toward the take-off
spot, I noticed the landing signal
officer had laid out his flags Ito
represent the after end Of a car
rier deck) on the longer three
ball runway. At the moment he
was striding toward the control
tower with the obvious intent of
asking that the course be changed.
Sure enough, just as I came to
the intersection of the one-ball
and the three-ball runways, the
tower duty officer sent two more
balls up the staff, to join the one
already there. In view of the
light wind, the landing signal Of
ficer had had his way. And to his
intervention I probably owe my
life.
I frightened my safety belt and
got squared away for a three-ball
take-off. This runway is long, and
ends with a 5O-foot drop-off be-
low which are trees and buildings