Evening star., 1948-10-09
Writer Feels He|p|es,
In Copi|ot's S Seat Of
Fastest JET Bomber
By W. N. Shippen, Jr.
Stor Stoff Correspondent

seat of one Of Uncle Sans fastest
Jet bombers felt useless yesterday
when the four engines began to
cook up something that looked like
$50 miles an hour.
The young veteran in the first
pilots seat forward had invited his
passenger to follow through on
the dual controls I kept thinking.
I've only had 40 minutes of in
struction IN Piper Cub, but maybe
] shouldn't bring that up now"
1t seemed better to say, Il may
follow through with the tips OF my
fingers and toes-but lightly! Rest
assured, sir. won't make a move
without you"
Ride in "Hot Weapon"
The opportunity to ride in a hot
weapon like the North American
B-45 was compensation enough for
any newSwriter without the added
privilege of originating a few ma
neuvers.
The flight Of three of us-two
Washington reporters and a pho
tographer-must have been the first,
or one of the very few, yet allowed
newsmen in this type of aircraft.
Although accustomed to military
planes, felt bit like one of the
Rover Boys going for spin with
Buck Rogers when I twisted and
crawled back to the copilots seat
hung with Mae West, parachute and
throat mike.
The pilot. Capt. v. B. Greena-
myre, u. of Leavenworth. Kans.,
helped tighten my parachute harness
and anchor me with shoulder straps
and heavy-duty seat belt. All
okay?" he asked. 'if not. just switch
this radio dial over to this position
to call me, and over to that to talk"
Ground Crewman Grins.
My head was projected we'll up
into the plastic canopy, but I had
managed to pull the shoulder straps
SO tight couldn't twist my neck to
look behind. One member of the
ground crew had a wide grin as we
pulled away.
My first moments in a jet aircraft
were enlivened further by something
which looked too much like smoke
coiling up from vent near my right
foot. The stuff turned out to be
refrigerated air from tiny cooling
plant that helps to keep the plastic
rooted cockpit at even temperature.
We took off at sunrise and for an
hour and half the pine fats and
white Gulf of Mexico beaches
whirled under us with a velocity
that must have been as impressive
from the ground as it was from
where I sat. Capt. Greenamyre was
making low-altitude runs to check
accuracy of his instruments with
help of technicians in observation
towers along the beach.
Our four turbo-jetS were drinking
huge amounts Of the cool morning
air, packing it into their kerosene
combustion chambers and pouring
it behind like dark ribbons when
the pilot began to ease open his
throttles and bring the air speed
indicator toward the design stress
danger line.
Make Own Light Cloud.
During the speed runs, the dark
ribbons of exhaust drew a straight
line of shadow on the waters OF the
Gulf and our wing tips made their
own light cloud streaming away be-
hind.
The pilot was making his tests
just after dawn to avoid thermal
turbulence. Up and down drafts
under clouds in a sunny sky can
bounce a high-speed plane like an
automobile rolling far too fast over
a rough highway.
The B-45 is an important air.
plane to national security plans OF
the Air Force. Almost 200 have
been ordered and production began
in March of 1947. The planes were
designed to fly 800 miles or more
to target with up to 10 tons of
bombs. They carry . four-man
crew, and although they weigh
more than 40 tons loaded are rated
on new lists as light bombers.
Potential Atom Carriers.
The first B-45 operational squad
ron is to be activated soon under
the Attn Bomb Wing. now based
in Ell Paso. Tex. Whether these
streamlined airplanes, which re-
semble torpedoes in the sky, are po-
tential atomic bomb carriers is
wholly matter of speculation.
They have a service ceiling of
over 10000 feet and mighty big
bomb bays. or so it seemed to a
nontechnical observers. but the
range must remain rather short
until the jets get better mileage
for the fuel they burn.
During high-speed runs our four
engines were delivering we'll over
5000 pounds of thrust, roughly
$4,000 horsepower. There was
plenty of speed with weight behind
it to kill before we landed.
As we approached the two-mile
runway crawled out of the CO.
pilots seat and up into the bombar-
dier's position in the sharp plastic
nose. 1t seemed clear that any,
body who had to set more than 40
tons down at what looked like at
least 140 miles an hour needed no
advice from an amateur.
AS it was, we used about all the
runway they had at Eglin that day.
Satira Greeted by Father