The First Solo Cross-Country Flight

To really understand who those crazy young pilots were flying the helicopters in The US Army flight school and Vietnam you need to understand who they were, where they came from and where they were going. After the Army Air Corp separated from the Army, the Army was left with only a few observation airplanes. Later they got a few helicopters and used them for medical evacuation and observation in the Korean conflict.

Then as always happens when people shoot at flying machines, aircrews started putting guns on their flying machines and shooting back. Additionally the Army figured out that not only could they use helicopters to evacuate wounded from the battlefield, they could use helicopters to rapidly move troops into combat with them. Along comes the Vietnam War and the great need to fight a very mobile war.

In an extremely short period of time the Army went from a few pilots and helicopters to thousands. During the peak time of the Vietnam War we trained seven thousand Army helicopter pilots per year. The Army needed people and the fastest way to get them without upsetting the rest of the service was to bring them in off the street (or civilians).

The Army ran ads saying, “Go from high school to flight school”. The Army recruited very young men who were often only eighteen or nineteen years of age. Basic training was two months long and then it was off to nine months of flight school. With a little leave or vacation time, it was off to combat in Vietnam. So most of the Army helicopter pilots in Vietnam arrived for combat with only one year of training and at only nineteen or twenty years of age. There were some that were older and even some that had prior military experience but the vast majority were these very young pilots.

So flight school was an interesting place. Everyone knew they were headed for combat where they might survive. They were young and wild. Were they wild because they were young or because they knew they were headed for combat where they might not survive? The answer is probably “yes”. Both contributed to their wild, crazy and aggressive nature.

I honestly think the Army was wise in those choices because careful bus driving airline pilots aren’t going to work in combat. The choice of young, brave, and crazy pilots was just what they needed to fly helicopters in combat. To this day I marvel at the flights these brave young men performed day after day as they saw many of their friends shot down and lost.

At Fort Wolters, Texas, where the first part of flight school was held, there were three heliports where all of the fifteen hundred helicopters were based. Each morning and afternoon almost all of the helicopters were up flying. They would depart from one of the heliports and proceed to one of the many stage fields to practice maneuvers. Then at noon or at the end of the day they would return to the heliports.

Shortly after most of our class had soloed we got in a bit of trouble. To get from the heliport to our stage field and back we had to pass by a couple of other stage fields. Some in our flight class had flown too close to one of the other stage fields and so we were all chewed out. The flight commander said that if we couldn’t navigate any better than that, we should climb up and go over the stage fields. If we went up to two thousand feet we would be clear of any traffic at the stage fields and would not disturb any one. It sounded like a logical thing to tell these student pilots.

The reality was that it is not the best thing to tell our group. The next day one of the students quietly told the rest of us that he had gone up to ten thousand feet and it was great. Sure enough the race was on and every solo student tried to go up to the highest altitude. We were flying little bitty two place helicopters that were not intended to be a high altitude machine and we certainly didn’t know enough to be up at those altitudes. Yes, I went to ten thousand feet but I wasn’t comfortable with it so I came back down, closer to a safer altitude.

Then we finally reached the day for our first all day solo cross-country flight. It was a big deal and really was pretty exciting. Two students were assigned to each aircraft and we were to all fly the same course. It would require good navigation for young student pilots who had nothing but a map and compass to navigate with.

In that phase of flight school I had two roommates who had also been trained by the same instructor pilots. On this day we were all assigned whom we were to fly with. They split up every instructor’s students and assigned them to fly with some other instructor’s students. As far as I knew everyone was fine with the assignments so off we went.

The little helicopters we were flying had an airspeed limit of sixty knots. On the first leg of the flight my stick buddy and I were flying sixty or slightly more but we were passed left and right by many of the other twenty-five helicopters. Some went by us like we were standing still on the interstate highway. They really were pushing the helicopters pretty hard. We had been told that the helicopter’s bubble would collapse in on us at seventy knots. Some had to be well above seventy knots.

As one of those that had passed us was just about out of sight we heard a radio call that went like this, “Mayday, mayday, mayday, tail number [such and such] going down with an engine failure”. “Mayday” means it is an emergency and in this case they were going down with an engine failure in a small single engine helicopter with a low experienced pilot and that is a real emergency.

In the distance we saw the flight attitude change on the helicopter and he was going down. A couple of the instructor pilots were in other helicopters to follow along and keep track of us so they responded to the call and tried to coach them on their way down. We continued to get closer to them and were able to watch them all of the way down. They made it one piece.

Their engine was still turning some but making terrible noises and not producing much power. The instructors asked where they were. Their answer should have been something like so many miles north or south of some town or some landmark. The answer they gave was, “We are in a bean field with a green tractor”. That would not help the instructors find them so they weren’t happy. My stick buddy called the instructors and told them the location of the downed pilots. The instructors thanked us and told us to continue on our flight, which we did. Because I knew the voice of the pilot that had made the mayday call, I knew who one of the downed pilots was. It was one of my roommates. His cross-country was over for that day.

Our first stop was at Stephenville, Texas. We landed and parked behind the other six or so helicopters on the taxiway. Soon the rest of the flight of helicopters arrived. Some had wandered around seeing the sights of Texas.

The flight commander was not a happy camper. He knew that the helicopters were flown too fast and that many had bombed bridges with oranges, apples and the likes. He gathered the entire flight of student pilots together and spoke unkindly to us. His words were harsh, the volume was elevated, and the names that were used were not normal conversation ones. Clearly he was not happy with us. At the conclusion of his words he told us to go out to our helicopters and get them ready to go on the next leg but not to start them or take off until he gave us the signal.

There were twenty-five helicopters lined up on the strip of blacktop. We all checked our helicopters and stood out on the blacktop waiting for the word to go. After about fifteen minutes the flight commander came out to the end of the blacktop and gave a big old arm swing indicating we should crank up our helicopters. It was like the start of a car race where they stand outside their cars and jump and start the race. Everyone jumped in their helicopter and started cranking.

When all of the helicopters were running the flight commander called and told the first aircraft he could takeoff. Then he said number two and started on down the line. Just as it came our turn and we started to takeoff the entire group decided to just go at once. They weren’t cleared to takeoff but just were so competitive that they all went at once. I have never seen anything like it before or since. Twenty-five aircraft all taking off at the same time with no order or control. It was like a swarm of insects. There were helicopters in front of us, behind us, above us, below, left of us and right of us. It was wild to be in the middle of it and it certainly must have been a wild show to watch. The flight commander was screaming on the radio and we were dodging helicopters. Somehow we all made it.

After we landed at the conclusion of the second leg the flight commander again wanted to talk to us. The speech was much the same as the first only at a little higher volume and delivered with a little more intensity. There were many threats included with his words this time.

The third leg went pretty well except for my other roommate. During that flight he made a mayday call saying that something was wrong with their engine. We could all hear his voice but there was a tremendous roar of the engine while he was making the radio call. They had pushed the helicopter so hard that they had blown the exhaust pipes right off the engine manifold. They were done for the day.

Our next stop was at San Angelo and we had one last visit with our flight commander. He was not as wound up as he had been on the previous chats. The mistake he made was to tell us to take off parallel to the runway, stay low and then once past the end of the runway to turn right and pass under any traffic taking off. His mistake was to tell us to stay low. He didn’t say when to climb to altitude so we all stayed low.

Off we went one after another. Each aircraft took off, stayed low, turned right and flew off into the distance still at tree top level. It was our first experience at flying at tree top level. What a thrill to be skimming over the tops of the trees and houses. But it took only a little while for the instructor pilots and the commander to see what we were doing and start yelling for us to climb up to altitude.

Somehow we finished the last leg of the flight and made it home. We had survived our first all day cross country flight. The wild young men had made one more step closer to being masters, flying their helicopters and going off to combat with them.

There are different types and kinds of pilots needed for different jobs. There is a perfect place for the gentle straight and level pilots and there is a place that straight and level will not do. We all love the straight and level airline pilots who watch the computer fly the aircraft. But just as important and as needed are the aggressive, brave and a little bit crazy pilots needed for helicopter combat flying. In peacetime the Army too loves straight and level flying helicopter pilots but when war happens they need the wild, crazy and aggressive pilots who go where others dare not go and do things others only read about. In Vietnam they went down to the jungle next to the enemy and fought them face-to-face, gun-to-gun and on a personal basis. Perhaps some would be too aggressive and crazy and a few would not be crazy enough but most were more than equal to the task. All would forever carry scars and memories that cut deep into their souls but everyone that went and fought also proved what they were made of. Though sometimes considered less than perfect timber, the wild, crazy and brave young Army helicopter pilots proved to be the timber the Army could depend on in war. Time after time they came to the rescue of soldiers on the ground.

When we select wood or other material for a project we know we should try to choose the best for the job. For its Vietnam helicopter pilots the Army selected the best they could for the job. Whether they were wild and crazy before becoming Army helicopter pilots in that era or became that way because of the task they faced I don’t know. I only know they became what they needed to be. When we select people for a job or when we select a career we should try to select the most appropriate. There is not any kind of wood that is best for every application. There is no one type of person that is best for every job. It’s best to know the demands of the job and then to select the best for the job. When the selection matches the needs, things work out for the best.