Bill Bruce on Forest Patrol

by Henry Harley Arnold

When slides were used to send the timber down the mountain sides, they showed up in a distinct, straight brown streak through the timber. Bill saw one of these slides operating later an and was astonished at the speed at which the enormous logs thundered down the track. The logs passed with express train speed and the friction with the track was so great that many of them were smoldering from the heat when they reached the bottom.

Here and there Bill saw what he thought was the smoke of a forest fire. There was no mistaking a fire when it was large, but there were other columns of smoke ascending which Bill could not identify. They might be coming from other sawmills or they might be small fires.

Off to the right stood Mount McLoughlin, thrusting its head well above any of its neighbors. Later on, during the patrol, many times Bill was to welcome the sight of that peak. It was ninety-five hundred feet high and its top was almost always covered with a snow cap.

Suddenly Bill became aware of the fact that he could not see very far ahead. There did not seem to be any clouds in the sky, but the visibility became extremely limited. Gradually the haze grew thicker around them. It had the distinct odor of burning timber. The Flight had entered the dense smoke pall which covers the Northwest section of our country during the forest fire season. It has not the appearance of clouds, but is just as impenetrable to the eye. Clouds vary in color from white, through gray to black. At times they have a distinctive greenish tinge which always is indicative of hail being present. The smoke pall has a dirty, grayish brown color which tends toward a golden hue when the sun shines on it.

By this time Bill had led his Flight quite some distance from the railroad. He had not seen any possible landing fields since leaving the Medford Valley. The smoke pall had taken away some of his self-confidence. He wanted to get back closer to civilization. Bill changed his course so that he would soon meet the railroad again.

The Flight had now been in the air for over three hours. The tanks held gasoline for a trifle over four hours. Bill knew that they would soon have to land for gasoline. He looked to his left for the railroad, but could see no signs of the usual open country which bordered the tracks. As the country beneath them was wild and thickly wooded, Bill headed the Flight still farther toward the west to reach those tracks.

The smoke pall did not have a definite lower surface as clouds have, but gradually changed into a haze and thinned out close to the ground. Bill was gradually losing altitude and suddenly, through the haze, he saw a small town. He flew towards it and then circled around to pick up the landing field. He studied his map and knew from the configuration of the town, the river flowing by, that he had reached Roseburg. Another circle and he saw the landing field. Bill gave the signal for breaking formation and landed.

A gasoline tank truck was waiting for the planes when they taxied to the end of the field. Apparently they were expected, but how did anyone know that they were going to land there, when Bill himself did not know it? Bill set out to satisfy his curiosity.

“How did you know that we were going to land here?” he asked the driver of the truck.

“Captain Smith told me that you would probably get in some time about three o’clock,” replied the driver.