A great deal of our time was devoted to formation flying. Air combat of the future will probably often be between large formations rather than individual pilots, and it is accordingly of utmost importance for the pursuit pilot to hold his place in formation instinctively, so that his entire attention can be devoted to the enemy rather than to his own formation.
We often maneuvered our flights while the individual planes were less than ten feet apart and it was not unusual to dive vertically for several thousand feet in a fairly close formation.
We learned the use of Lufberry circles, cross over turns, and other formation tactics. Our formations were often tight, it is true, but strange as it may seem, very few accidents occur from too close flying. A pilot is constantly alert when his plane is only a short distance from the one in front and nothing is allowed to distract his attention. On the other hand, when there is quite some distance separating them he is often more engrossed in lighting a cigarette or watching some object on the ground than in his own formation.
In pursuit flying we came to have great confidence in our parachutes. The planes we were flying were kept in excellent condition and none ever failed, notwithstanding the fact that we placed them under every conceivable strain imaginable. But the knowledge that we did not have to concern ourselves about whether they did fall apart or not was an invaluable factor in building up our morale. Our formations were tighter, the combats faster, and our flying better as a result.
We had a number of close calls but considering the amount of flying we had done, and that all of it was military flying, which cannot be ever compared to commercial traffic as far as safety is concerned, our accidents were remarkably few and none resulted seriously.
No one knows of the risk he takes better than the pursuit pilot and no one is less concerned about it. Every move, although at lightning speed, is made with a coolness born of experience and love of flying. The army Air Corps is built up of men who fly for the love of flying. Their only mission in life is to build up the finest air corps in the world, and their greatest desire is to be given the opportunity to do so without restriction. If an officer is lost in duty he would be the last one to wish for resulting restrictions on his comrades.
A week of our pursuit training was spent on a gunnery expedition at Galveston. We flew there from Kelly Field in M.B.3A. machines and fired on tow targets exclusively. Our field was close to the Gulf, and when the day’s operations had been completed we were free to go about as we chose. Consequently a large part of the evening was spent along the rocky beach.
On the night of our last day at Galveston several of us were holding a contest to decide which could reach the most distant rock between the breakers, before the next wave rolled in. One of the fellows was outstanding in his accomplishments. In fact he was so dextrous that none of us could compete, so we were all loud in our praises and unanimously agreed that there was not a rock in the gulf too obscure for him. There was, however, a rock a number of feet beyond the most distant point any of us had attained, which was visible only for an instant as the last breaker receded and before the next arrived. Even this was possible, we confidently assured him.
He watched that rock intently for several minutes; then bolstered up by our praise and his own confidence, he stood poised and ready. At the proper moment he nimbly leaped from boulder to boulder after the retreating surf but just before the final rock was touched a large wave towered above it. Too late! The chance of retreat had never been considered and its opportunity had passed. With do or die determination he leaped onto the boulder and into the breaking wave. This incident would not have been serious or its consequences important had we been able to carry any extra equipment in our pursuit planes, but as it was, extra clothing was a scarce article, and when we took off for San Antonio and Kelly the following morning, it was necessary for him to send his wet clothes back in a De Haviland and make his flight in a bearskin flying suit without insulation against the bearskin.
In warm weather these suits acquired an odor similar to that of a goat which has been in the barn all winter and the fur itself was far from comfortable. On the trip back a piston froze in the engine. For two days the cadet was alternately roasting in the southern sun and freezing in the Texas nights while he guarded his ship and waited for a new engine.