Singles:
Allan (S) over Whitney (P), 212, 217
Schleeh (S) over Brown (P), 2115, 215
Munro (S) over Bray (P), 2115, 1421, 2113
Northup (S) over Weldon (P), 2110, 2119
Nelson (P) over Ellington (S), 219, 218
Doubles:
Allan-Schleeh (S) over Nelson-Bray (P), 214, 2110
Munro-Northup (S) over Day-Lopez (P), 219, 218
That was too much. We immediately challenged them to a basketball game to be played in the base gym on the first bad-weather afternoon, which came only a few days later. After a hard struggle we emerged victorious, primarily because Claire Whitney was several times better than any of the other players on either team. Following our victory we issued this communiqué:
5 February (SP) The Stability Weenies are listing their excuses today after the severe trouncing they received on the basketball court at the hands of the Performance Prestidigitators. The Weenies, flushed with victory in such nursery contests as Ping Pong and Hide the Feather, showed their true mettle when engaged in the manly art of basketball.
In the last quarter of the game, the Weenies (sometimes called the Stable Horrorlizers), cognizant of their impending defeat, made a last stab for victory by roughing up the valiant players of the opposition. With three minutes of play remaining, Whitney of the opposition had to be carried from the court bleeding profusely from this unwarranted foul play. The Prestidigitators, undaunted by this turn of events, continued on to the last whistle.
FINAL SCORE
Performance 24
Stability 23
I played an important role in this victory by sinking the foul shot that gave us the victory. It was the only point I scored, even though I played the entire game.
To break the tie, being pilots, we decided that the next competition would be dogfighting. We couldn't use the flight-test Mustangs because of the test instrumentation, but the base flight squadron at Wright Field had a few Mustangs that were available for proficiency flying. We decided to use them.
The standard dogfight initiation procedure was adopted: the two planes would approach almost head-on; as they passed on each other's left, the fight was on. Each plane tried to get on the other's tail, usually by turning to the left as steeply and with as many g's as possible. The fights would start at 20,000 feet, and 5,000 would be considered the ground.
The first two fights scheduled were Lynch of Stability versus Brown of Performance and Ellington of Stability versus me. They were also the last two fights. We were so evenly matched that no one could get on the other's tail long enough to claim victory, although we all did, and fortunately we had no gun camera film for proof. More important, the base operations officer happened to be flying at the time and saw us racking his airplanes all over the sky. After that he would no longer let us fly them.
I was the only one in the performance class who was not stationed permanently at Wright-Patterson, and since I was not married I lived in the bachelor officer's quarters. Most of my married classmates, as well as the Ellingtons and Lynches from Eglin, were kind enough to have me to dinner now and then so I could enjoy some home cooking. I visited the Whitneys quite often, as Claire and I had become good friends as well as flying partners. Frequent phone calls between Dayton and Eglin encouraged me to believe that my bachelorhood was soon to end, and I looked forward to home cooking in my own home.
Glyn and I wrote almost daily, which helped to eliminate a few of those calls. I was more than happy when Brad Brown called from Eglin and told me that if I could catch a ride back to Eglin for the Thanksgiving break, he would fly me back to Wright-Pat in a Douglas A-26 on Sunday afternoon, in time for my classes. Luckily, someone who had relatives in the Eglin area was planning to fly down in a B-25 on Wednesday evening and had room for me. Being apart had convinced me that I didn't want to be away from Glyn, and rather than wait any longer, I decided to ask her to marry me during my visit to Florida. After some searching in Dayton, I bought a nice diamond engagement ring, with the hope that she would accept it and me as a package deal.
When I arrived back at Eglin the day before Thanksgiving and moved into Auger Inn, Rode told me I could use Wes Posvar's car, since he had flown home for Thanksgiving. I called Glyn right away, and we made plans to drive to Panama City and have Thanksgiving dinner with her family. We drove back to Eglin early the next evening. The beautiful Gulf beaches seemed the ideal setting to propose, so I stopped on an overlook and asked her to marry me. When she said yes, I immediately did an Immelmann off the deck with a few vertical rolls thrown in. Although I had performed those maneuvers many times in the past, this was the first time I did them sans airplane. I proudly announced my engagement to my Auger Innmates, and Glyn told her friends in the dormitory. The next night the Innmates arranged an impromptu engagement party at a restaurant in Pensacola, where we enjoyed a memorable evening.
At that time I was not sure whether I would stay in Dayton for the stability and control course after completing the flight performance course, because that training was not required for the type of testing done at Eglin. However, Lynch and Ellington had stayed for the second course, and I hoped that I could as well. At the least, I would remain there through mid-March, and if I took the second course, until mid-September. Because of the uncertainty, we decided to get married in January at Wright-Patterson, even though it was a long way from her family, rather than delay the wedding for an indefinite period.
When I arrived back in Dayton, I met with Chaplain Probst, the Protestant chaplain, and he agreed to marry us on Saturday, January 17, in the Patterson Air Force Base chapel. I also reserved a room at the officer's club for the reception. Glyn, through her good friend Ann Webb (the other blonde, whose husband, Spider, was stationed at Wright Field), arranged for the cake, flowers, and other incidentals. Much more important to us though, was Ann and Spider's decision to move to a larger apartment in the same building, since they now had a baby; and we would be able to rent their former apartment. Housing was in short supply in the area, and that eliminated a major concern. It would also be nice for Glyn to have her good friend in the same building.
With school closed for almost two weeks for the Christmas holidays, I drove back to Eglin to spend Christmas with Glyn and her family. After Christmas we drove to Tampa and visited my mother and brothers for a few more days of in-law indoctrination. While there, Glyn took advantage of the larger stores in Tampa and selected a wedding dress. Several of my friends were home, and while Glyn was shopping, I rashly joined them in a long game of tackle football on our old neighborhood field, the Toilet Bowl. Although I was in good condition, the next day I felt a close kinship with the White Sox shortstop Luke Appling, who was known as Old Aches and Pains.
The days passed too quickly, and I was soon driving back to the school without Glyn. The two weeks until she was to arrive seemed like two years. She arrived by train in Cincinnati on the Tuesday night before the wedding. I drove her back to Dayton, where the Weldons had kindly invited her to stay in the interim. The next few days passed in a blur as we took our blood tests, got the license, and Glyn checked all the arrangements.
The night before the wedding, Spider, Duke Ellington, and Artie Lynch set up a bachelor dinner in one of the hotels for my friends at the school as well as the contingent that was flying up from Eglin. Unfortunately the weather between Florida and Ohio was terrible, with heavy icing, forcing Rode and the rest of the pilots to delay the takeoff and finally to detour by way of Washington. I still remember vividly the sight of the long table, set with shrimp cocktails, with less than half the seats occupied. Rode, Wes Posvar, and the others arrived early the next morning, and we drove them to the hotel for a bachelor breakfast. During the breakfast someone came up behind me and said, "I hate all pilots, but especially fighter pilots." It was Colonel Shanahan, who had lost a leg in Alaska and was now a civilian weapons consultant to the Air Force. He knew Wes and me from Alaska and Rode from his armament work, and we invited him to join us. He was on his way to a conference and could not accept, but he congratulated me on my forthcoming marriage.