“Not a thing, Lieutenant,” the sergeant admitted. “What say if you and I give it a hop right now? See if we can locate any ‘bugs’ in the air.”
“We’ll do that little thing,” the C.O. agreed. “Got a helmet and goggles I can use?”
While the C.O. waited, and the men started the plane’s motor, the squadron clerk came to the hangar for the C.O. They talked for a few minutes, then the C.O. told the sergeant:
“I’ll have to call this flight off for now. There’re some papers for me to sign. I’ll see you later.”
Fifteen minutes before the first cadet class reported for the nine o’clock period, Lieutenant Black came to the line. The sergeant told the lieutenant all that he had not learned.
“But I don’t want to pass the buck too crudely,” the sergeant concluded. “What’s the matter with us two going up in the thing and learning what’s to be learned?”
What the sergeant wanted was more airwork. He would have taken his flying on the tail end of a rocket were no other means offered. The fact that a ship’s action was in question meant nothing to him. More than likely the sergeant was glad that nobody had been able to locate the kink; test flying is always to the liking of a real lover of air. The betting’s even that the sergeant had planned this moment during the previous night. As he talked, he talked Black toward the waiting plane. The instructor was adjusting helmet and goggles, and his silence gave consent.
“It’s funny,” he finally said, as they waited for the motor man to warm the engine, “but those controls did jam. I don’t want any of my cadets to get in dutch through mechanical faults. They’re bad enough without that. The Lord only knows when I’ll be able to turn any of them loose. Such an iron fisted bunch of shovel apprentices I’ve never met. They wouldn’t’ve made good K.P’s. for the wartime kadets.
“And these damn’ Jennies have got to be right, Sergeant. As right as they can be, and if they were twice as right as that, they’d still be all wrong. Climb in and we’ll take a turn of the field.”