The Bomber Boys Read Online Free
Author: Travis L. Ayres
helped to change their minds. Tony had a cousin who was already experiencing the trials of life in the infantry. His letter advised Tony: “Go into the Navy or the Air Corps. Anywhere but the Infantry.”
Tony made sure his mother read the soldier’s words. “At least in the Navy or Air Corps, you’ll be sleeping in a bed at night.” The Tetas relented, and at the age of seventeen and a half Tony signed up to join the Army and volunteered for Air Corps service. He turned eighteen in May of 1943, and it was official. Tony, just a month shy of high school graduation, was on his way to basic training.
After basic, it was off to Maxwell Air Base in Alabama, where three weeks of testing would determine if he was qualified to fly. The IQ marks were extremely high. Failure at Maxwell spelled the end to many a young serviceman’s dream of flying for the Army Air Corps. Test applicants were rated for qualification as pilots, navigators or bombardiers. Tony scored high and qualified for all three positions. Flooded with a wave of young patriots wanting to be pilots, the Air Corps found itself with more qualified candidates than airplanes. The officer in charge
was impressed with young Teta’s math scores and recommended, “You should consider going into navigation. It is a tough school, but I’m sure you would not wash out.”
“Will I get to fly?” Tony asked.
The officer smiled and replied, “You’ll fly plenty.”
Tony signed up. Soon he was on his way to Pennsylvania and enrollment at Clarion State Teachers College. There was math and more math. Competing with other candidates who had two to three years of college proved to be a challenge to Tony, but he compensated by studying late into the night, long after lights-out.
Life at Clarion was not all work though, since the young navigation students were housed on the first floor of a coed dormitory. Many of Clarion’s female students occupied the second floor. Tony soon grew friendly with an attractive coed who coincidentally lived in the room directly above his. The college’s administrators did what they could to “protect” their female charges, including enforcement of a strict curfew. By the time Tony finished his required study time, the women’s dorm floor was sealed up tight. With no telephone communication available, Tony and his new girlfriend worked out a simple solution.
Tony had noticed that a pair of steam pipes ran from his room through the ceiling. Guessing that the pipes also ran through the room above, the couple soon developed a “tapping code” that served them well. Late in the evening, Tony would often tap out a request for the young lady to sneak out of the building and meet him outside. A single affirmative tap on the pipe from above was music to his ears.
Not all of the Clarion courses were as mundane as math. Despite their designation as navigation candidates, the young men were given flying lessons at a nearby airfield. Tony finally had a chance to realize his dream. The training plane was only a small two-seater, but the instructor put it through a series of
spins, stalls and dives that were designed to weed out the faint of heart. After ground school and ten hours of flight time, it was time to solo. The day he sat alone in the pilot’s seat of that little airplane as it lifted off the runway was Tony’s best day since the barnstormers had visited Hamden.
The eight months at Clarion flew by, and Tony advanced on to the next phase of navigation training at the University of Miami. Pan American Airways provided the airplanes and instructors, and gave the cadets their first real in-flight navigation experience aboard huge “Flying Boats.” Tony scored high marks and received a certificate that was redeemable for a job with Pan Am after the war. It was an exciting prospect at the time. The possibility that he might not survive the war never crossed his mind—at least not until much later.
Next up was gunnery school at Fort
Tony made sure his mother read the soldier’s words. “At least in the Navy or Air Corps, you’ll be sleeping in a bed at night.” The Tetas relented, and at the age of seventeen and a half Tony signed up to join the Army and volunteered for Air Corps service. He turned eighteen in May of 1943, and it was official. Tony, just a month shy of high school graduation, was on his way to basic training.
After basic, it was off to Maxwell Air Base in Alabama, where three weeks of testing would determine if he was qualified to fly. The IQ marks were extremely high. Failure at Maxwell spelled the end to many a young serviceman’s dream of flying for the Army Air Corps. Test applicants were rated for qualification as pilots, navigators or bombardiers. Tony scored high and qualified for all three positions. Flooded with a wave of young patriots wanting to be pilots, the Air Corps found itself with more qualified candidates than airplanes. The officer in charge
was impressed with young Teta’s math scores and recommended, “You should consider going into navigation. It is a tough school, but I’m sure you would not wash out.”
“Will I get to fly?” Tony asked.
The officer smiled and replied, “You’ll fly plenty.”
Tony signed up. Soon he was on his way to Pennsylvania and enrollment at Clarion State Teachers College. There was math and more math. Competing with other candidates who had two to three years of college proved to be a challenge to Tony, but he compensated by studying late into the night, long after lights-out.
Life at Clarion was not all work though, since the young navigation students were housed on the first floor of a coed dormitory. Many of Clarion’s female students occupied the second floor. Tony soon grew friendly with an attractive coed who coincidentally lived in the room directly above his. The college’s administrators did what they could to “protect” their female charges, including enforcement of a strict curfew. By the time Tony finished his required study time, the women’s dorm floor was sealed up tight. With no telephone communication available, Tony and his new girlfriend worked out a simple solution.
Tony had noticed that a pair of steam pipes ran from his room through the ceiling. Guessing that the pipes also ran through the room above, the couple soon developed a “tapping code” that served them well. Late in the evening, Tony would often tap out a request for the young lady to sneak out of the building and meet him outside. A single affirmative tap on the pipe from above was music to his ears.
Not all of the Clarion courses were as mundane as math. Despite their designation as navigation candidates, the young men were given flying lessons at a nearby airfield. Tony finally had a chance to realize his dream. The training plane was only a small two-seater, but the instructor put it through a series of
spins, stalls and dives that were designed to weed out the faint of heart. After ground school and ten hours of flight time, it was time to solo. The day he sat alone in the pilot’s seat of that little airplane as it lifted off the runway was Tony’s best day since the barnstormers had visited Hamden.
The eight months at Clarion flew by, and Tony advanced on to the next phase of navigation training at the University of Miami. Pan American Airways provided the airplanes and instructors, and gave the cadets their first real in-flight navigation experience aboard huge “Flying Boats.” Tony scored high marks and received a certificate that was redeemable for a job with Pan Am after the war. It was an exciting prospect at the time. The possibility that he might not survive the war never crossed his mind—at least not until much later.
Next up was gunnery school at Fort
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