16
Big Airplanes, Big Year
While I was at test pilot school, a second model of the North American Twin Mustang, the P-82E, was delivered to the squadron. The radome and the radar controls had been removed and the right cockpit was now equipped with duplicate flight controls. It was not designed for use as a night fighter but rather as a long-range escort fighter for the Strategic Air Command. In theory, the pilot and copilot could relieve each other at the controls on long missions, thus reducing fatigue. In practice, it was found to be almost as tiring to ride in the small cockpit as it was to fly the plane, since there was no place to go and no room to stretch when not at the controls.
In the E model, the 1,380-horsepower Merlin engines had been replaced by 1,600-horsepower Allison V-1710-143s. Maximum rpm had been raised from 3,000 to 3,200, and takeoff manifold pressure had been increased from 61 to 72 inches of mercury. It had a top speed of 461 mph, a ceiling of almost 39,000 feet, and a range of more than 2,200 miles.
Artie Lynch was the test officer, and I flew in the right cockpit with him on my checkout ride. As was his custom, the checkout consisted entirely of aerobatics performed, and performed extremely well, by Artie, using maximum power for most of the flight. I never touched the controls. After some fifteen minutes of gut-wrenching maneuvers, while we were in a vertical climb at full power, there was a sudden jolt, and the right propeller went into full feather. It kept turning for a few seconds until Artie shut it down and rolled into level flight. I was thinking that whatever he was trying to demonstrate was surely dramatic, when he yelled, "Dammit Lope, don't screw with the controls when I'm flying!" I told him that I hadn't touched anything. He cooled down and said that the prop control must have failed.
We headed back to the field, and after Artie told the tower he had lost an engine, we were instructed to enter the downwind leg for a rectangular pattern and land. He replied that he was already on the initial approach for a standard fighter circular pattern, but the tower repeated the original instruction. Artie reluctantly complied, although he bitched at the tower operator until we were down and off the runway. He seemed to feel that the tower operator had somewhat less than the proper respect for his flying ability.
The crew chief confirmed that the linkage to the control had indeed broken, causing the propeller to feather, but at least the engine had not been damaged.
I was now a fully qualified graduate of the Artie Lynch Hands-off Checkout Method, so as soon as the linkage had been repaired I took the P-82E up and put it through its paces, albeit slightly more sedate paces than Artie's. I found it quite responsive and more enjoyable to fly than the night-fighter model. Also, the removal of the radome had eliminated the nose heaviness mentioned earlier, and power-off, four-point landings were now a piece of cake, or as the French put it, "C'est du gateau."
Sometime later, Wes Posvar told me about his checkout by Artie in the P-82E. Although an excellent pilot, Wes did not have much fighter experience at the time. Artie performed about forty-five minutes of aerobatics and then landed without letting Wes touch the controls. As they walked back to operations Artie said, "Well, I'm sure you can handle it now." And he was right. Soon after that, Wes was assigned to fly the F-82 in a firepower demonstration. He was to dive-bomb a target and then join two other F-82s for a flyby. He had never dive-bombed, so I flew in the right seat and made a few practice runs, with Wes observing through his gunsight. He followed with a few runs that were letter perfect. He must have mastered the technique on that short training flight, because during the demonstration he destroyed the pyramid target with a direct hit. Wes, with his remarkable academic achievements, helped dispel the general belief that brains were a handicap to a fighter pilot.
The heavy bomber squadron had received and was testing the Convair (Consolidated-Vultee) B-36, the USAF's long-range strategic bomber and the largest bomber ever in U.S. service. The requirement for a very-long-range bomber had been established back in 1941, when it seemed that Britain might fall and the United States might be required to attack targets in Europe from North America. When the British turned the tide, the urgency for such a bomber decreased, and the first flight of the XB-36 did not take place until August 1946, one year after the surrender of Japan.
The B-36 was an enormous airplane with a wingspan of 230 feet, 89 feet greater than the B-29, and a length of 162 feet, 63 feet longer than the B-29. (For comparison, the Boeing 747 airliner has a span of 196 feet and is 231 feet long.) Its gross weight was 328,000 pounds, and it could carry a bomb load of 72,000 pounds. Powered by six 28-cylinder, 3,500-horsepower Pratt & Whitney Wasp Major engines turning pusher propellers, its maximum range was more than 8,000 miles, and its service ceiling was 42,500 feet. A later model, the B-36D first flown in July 1949, had four 5,200-pound-thrust General Electric J-47 jet engines, two mounted on each wing, making it a ten-engine bomber.
The B-36, through no fault of the airplane or its crew, had a rather embarrassing debut at a firepower demonstration. As a blockbuster opening, the B-36 was to drop 144 five-hundred-pound bombs, not salvoed but in trail. It would start bombing as it came across the west boundary of the range and salvo the remaining bombs at the east boundary, covering a distance of 3.3 miles. This went off exactly as planned, except that most of the bombs failed to detonate — they were duds. It seems that the ordnance department had to use a lot of ancient bombs to make up such a large load. It might not have been so noticeable had they been salvoed, but the duds were painfully obvious when dropped in trail. The ordnance crews spent the better part of the next year locating the buried bombs and exploding them. I was flying a P-38 that day and, since I had plenty of fuel, had taken off early to watch the spectacular show. I was as disappointed as the spectators on the ground, but at least I was flying.
From time to time, when the defensive armament system was being tested (six retractable remote-controlled turrets plus a nose and a tail turret, mounting two 20mm cannon each), the fighter squadron was called on to make simulated attacks from various angles and altitudes with F-80s. I flew several of these missions, and in the beginning it was difficult to close to the proper firing range before breaking off the attacks; the B-36 was so large that it appeared to be much closer than it actually was. Like most things, with a little experience that soon ceased to be a problem.
Most of the base personnel were intrigued by the B-36 because of its size and its distinctive throbbing sound, caused by the inability to synchronize the six propellers. When the fighters were making high-altitude passes at the B-36 over the base, all the aircraft could be easily seen because of the contrails. Glyn said the crisscrossed contrails made it look like a game of aerial tic-tac-toe. With no bomb load and a light fuel load, the B-36 had a low wing loading and a high power loading, making it surprisingly maneuverable. The bomber pilots would constantly turn toward the fighters, making it difficult to complete a proper firing pass. It was quite a sight to see that monster making tight turns and apparently foiling the fighters, and it gave the bomber pilots a rare, but brief, opportunity to gloat. While it looked good from the ground and the fighter pilots were kidded about it, from the fighter cockpits it was obvious that many of the passes would have been successful, especially when the fighters split up and made coordinated attacks from different directions. Also, if the fighters caused the bombers to twist and turn on the bomb run, which must be straight and level to ensure accuracy, they would have accomplished their mission. The commander of the heavy bomber squadron realized this and, after letting his pilots enjoy themselves for a few days, told them to knock it off and fly standard bomb runs.