Hangar Flying with Grandpa
Flight and Adventure Stories for my Grandchildren
by
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Tragedy in the air came suddenly, furiously, and fatally. The date was 7 June 1943, the time 0300. I had just lifted off from Pope’s runway. A pilot from a sister squadron took off a few seconds later and joined in loose formation off my right wing. About an hour earlier both pilots met in Base Operations for a weather briefing and to file a flight plan to nearby Maxton, NC. Weather forecast called for broken clouds with scattered thunderstorms. Ceiling and visibility above VFR (visual flight rules) minima except in storms, which we intended to avoid. Soon we were airborne in the pre-dawn darkness headed for Maxton, about 40 miles South of Pope. Our mission: Transport Flight Officer glider pilots to Maxton for an early morning training exercise. We turned south on course and climbed only to 2500 feet because of the short distance to our destination and because the broken clouds had thickened to a solid, overcast and we were beneath them at that altitude. The companion plane was still in sight and so was a wall of intense lightening which appeared to be moving rapidly eastward. It looked like a massive squall line rather than, "isolated storms." A severe weather situation promising hazardous flight conditions. We turned parallel to the front hoping to find a break in that foreboding wall and pass through it (commonly called a "Sucker hole"), but to no avail. The radio compass homing pointer was useless because it was attracted to the storms rather than the Maxton radio frequency. Off to the right I could still see the red position light of the second plane. Suddenly that plane went into a pronounced dive and disappeared from view. I made another futile scan along the front searching for a space to penetrate it. Failing that attempt I headed for Pope. Our planes were not equipped with a common inter plane radio frequency. Consequently, the two pilots could not talk to each other about weather, intentions, or problems in flight. I reported my aborted mission to operations and the disappearance of plane two. I was told to standby. Within an hour or so, we were informed that the second plane had crashed near Maxton. There were no survivors. Newspaper headlines later announced: "20 ARMY AIRMEN KILLED IN CRASH NEAR MAXTON." From that experience, I learned the true meaning of the sacredness, the fragility and the beauty of life. Just three hours earlier I had met that young American pilot for the first time. But in a flash of time, he and 19 other loyal Citizens were now dead and grieved by their family, friends, and the Nation.
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About the Book
The central theme of this book is flying and aviation. The time period, except for the first story, is between 1940 and 1971. The stories are selected from the many adventures that I experienced during the time I write about – W.W.II, the Cold war, and operations in Greenland, Antarctica, Viet Nam and other locations. The amazing thing is, at my advanced age, that I can remember them. I have tried to avoid technical aviation terms and, above all, exclude profanities whenever possible. I wish to let my potential readers know that this is my first book and also my last one. I’m ready to pick up my pallet and brush and start painting again, with of course, the music of Artie Shaw playing in the background.
About the Author
Wilbert Turk, a native of Falls Creek, PA, joined the U.S. Army three months after the United States declared war against Japan on 9 December, 1941. He completed flight training in January 1943 and served as a C-47 and C-46 pilot in New Guinea and the islands chain leading to the Philippines. He remained in the Army Air Corps and the United States Air Force for the next 29 years and six months. During the long, Cold War, his interesting assignments included: Commander, 321st and 61st Troop Carrier Squadrons. Commander 483rd Troop Carrier Wing in Vietnam and the 322d Tactical Airlift Wing in Germany and duty on the Joint Staff and the Air Staff in the Pentagon. He retired in the grade of Colonel on 1 October 1971. He lives in Montgomery, Alabama with his wife, Katherine.