Showing posts with label Military. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Military. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

31 July 2013


Dear Ones,

Every Saturday night the whole town (Helotas, TX) meets and dances on this cement slab behind John Floores' Store.  So there was a crowd, maybe 80-100+ all having fun consuming adult beverages.  It was maybe midnight or so when big fat John Flores, the man of this town-he ran the general store, the dance behind, mayor and friend to everyone-one great old Texan that I was proud to meet that night.  Then in the daytime we (the tower operator and I) with the press.  Old John just wrote to the General he was some kind of an operator.

The problem was bad PR in that a lady was (she said) riding her horse, a jet flew by, she fell off the horse, broke her leg I guess and wanted to sue the Air Force.  "The noise of the jet engine spooked my horse and that's why I was bucked off and broke every bone in my body" or something like that.

So here I come many days later.  The PR people wrote "The noise of the jet brought attention to all 107 people (round about) the area for 21.7 miles and led the people to the fire."  It's a stretch of the truth but so positive.  Not true.

I was on red light with 65 gallons left.  To top off the total gas in the T-33 is 813 gallons.  The refueling crew told me 801+ gallons into this group of tanks, 12 gallons to spare.  Oh sure-my knees moved a little and alas we're on the Terra Ferma at this time.

Love you all,
Mom & Dad

12 July 1956
Letter from the mayor, John Foote, to the General

Air Force response

One of the many newspaper articles about the incident

Air Force Times 14 July 1956
Honorary Fire Marshall

Twin Village News 19 July 1956


THE WHOLE STORY:

While flying on a local test hop in T-33 aircraft I was making an approach for landing from the north of Kelly AFB on the new runway about 15 miles north of the field. In the foothills of San Antonio is a community, Helotes.  Not for maybe 3 or 4 miles I see a big brush (trees not tall in this point of Texas) "fire".  I call the tower "any reported aircraft in??" I said, the tower operator said, "No".  So I buzzed around looking close at the fields houses.  No people, some cattle, etc.  Maybe 6 or 7 passes of the area.  I see no life, no movement. Of course I'm I am flying 100-200 feet above ground.  I fly over Helotes on these passes.  No I am low on fuel.  I report to the tower no sign of life but the fire is spreading maybe 50 -100 acres by now.

That night I leave for Dover, Delaware as co-pilot in YC124A.  Come back Sunday and Monday in the paper-here it is.  "Jet Pilot Saves the Town".  Leads in the fire trucks, saves the cows, the chickens, etc... the "noise" of the jet engine alerts the town folks.  John Floore, mayor, sends a letter to the General and the tower operator and I are invited to the next Saturday in the square dance where we are made Honorary Fire Chiefs.

I get a note from an old classmate who is flying C119's in Japan, Doc Blanchard.  "Hey David, I read about you saving the town there near San Antonio with your T-33 leading the fire trucks and all that then Honorary Fire Chief in the Pacific Times (Military newspaper).  I always knew you would do some fancy flying."  Doc and I sent Christmas cards for years after this.

In Vietnam one late afternoon our crew C123K was loading at GiaNghia (like an aircraft carrier) was a very tricky place to land and we caught fire in the right engine upon landing.  We did not want to RON (remain over night) because the bad guys would love to blow up a C123 just for fun.  What to do.  It's getting darker and darker.

A C-7 lands and out jumps Doc Blanchard from St. Louis my roommate at C-119 school at Randolph AFB and sang in the choir at Morone?, AZ and Laredo, TX.  A good friend, Doc.  It's 1969 and I haven't seen him since December 1955.  He looked great.  Our crew chief engineer and the load master did the best they could checking for leaks of fuel.  All looked good.  Gave Doc a hug and off he went in his C-7.  We crank the engines OK no fire and off we go back to Phon Rong.  Small world.  I saw Doc and his wife at '55 flying class reunion in San Antonio around 1995.  Some old classmates about half of the original bunch.  One became a 2 star General.

So now you know how this little fire chief badge came to me.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

27 February 2013

TAPS Designated National Song

I have a history on "Taps".  Father and son (I mailed to you) and here is one good thing.  As I can, here goes.... Father in the Union Army he did not know his son was fighting for the south.  Its night battle has let up some, the father hears sounds of pain not too far away.  He closes in and finds this soldier and carries him back to safety behind the lines with some lights the older man finds this wounded man is his son! The lad dies.  In going through his pockets the father find the notes.  He gets a musician, a bugler, to play these notes.  Sounds somber but a great tune or whatever they call a bugle call.  The father asks his commander could I have a burial service for my son (who is a confederate soldier) and have the music "Taps" played by the Union musician.  The commander after a time says "yes" so TAPS is born and first played at the grave side service of the man who wrote it on a piece of paper.  I think I am close to the true story.  Some time during the civil war.  Again, what are the odds-Father to find son in the ward zone, son dies, and TAPS is born and here we are 2013 and Taps is played at almost every military funeral.

-POP