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T-37s - Warlock Flight

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Our house on base - 9007 East Ash. I arrived at Williams without Carol - she stayed in Fresno for a month getting things wrapped up for us. JAD Dennis was kind enough to manage our house as a rental for us for the year we were gone. Turned out it was a professor at CSUF who grew weed in the backyard :) In the mean time I got a studio apartment off-base. The only expenses we had was the phone bill and I had to buy a mower for the lawn. Once Carol found a job at a travel agency in Tempe we saved a ton of money. Carol spent a week with me in the studio apartment. It was pretty cramped quarters for a while and getting up for early week for a 4:00 A.M. report really sucked! I remember driving into work one morning about quarter to four right behind a big Frito Lay delivery truck. I had a base parking sticker on the car, was wearing my uniform, yet there was still a 100% I.D. check. And sure enough the guard waved the Frito truck through without a thought. The whole Red Army could have been in there. My first experience with Active Duty logic :)
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Around T-38 graduation time Carol and I were watching a football game one Sunday with my buddy Gary Brietling and his wife Rita. We looked out the back window and saw an elderly couple passing by a couple of times on the walkway behind the house. I went out to see if I could help as they looked kind of lost. As it turned out they had been based there in the 1950s and ours was the same house they lived in way back then. I invited them in and we had a great chat over some beers. He was a P-51/F-86 pilot when Williams AFB was an aircraft gunnery school. Here's the pilot stud. Good luck trying to fit into those shorts again!
OMG, they say AMS :) 		First day of UPT in the classroom. Mart Hint looking confident as ever.
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On the first day of UPT we reported at 8:00 A.M. We all had to have a typed biography. I went down to the admin. building early to type mine up. About quarter till eight I got back out to the car and found that I had locked the keys in the car with the lights on. Crap! I didn't have time to fart around so I ran to my first class on the other side of the base. Got there just in time. At lunch I was telling a fellow about my automobile woes - he says he can get into the car easily. We drove down to where my car was and he pulls a clothes hanger out and pops the door open in about two seconds. He mumbles something about growing up in downtown Philadelphia. That was Gary - we were best buds all through pilot training. One side of the first day classroom. And the other side with more of the guys hanging around. Notice the fancy briefcases they issued to us all.
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Getting my first helmet. Getting fitted for our parachutes. Parachute training. Here's the parachute drag. We got training and P.T. at the same time. Steve Sischo.
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Dave Kay getting dragged by Steve Vose and Lon Mackay Jane Oehme gettin' drug. Jane was responsible for assigning callsigns to all the guys.
We got all of our dirty jokes from her, too :) 		Frank "Bill" Keene heading up the ejection seat trainer. It shot you up about 30 feet with the same force as a real ejection seat.
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Here's Ron "Aileron" Yelton showing fantastic form during PLF (Parachute Landing Fall) training. Ken Duvall coming in for a landing. His favorite band was DEVO. So that ended up being his callsign. Leroy "Jersey" Harvey.
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Just like in any military service - it's "Hurry up and wait." Just hangin' around.
Man those straps in the groin hurt! 		Here's Jane Oehme again. At the beginning of class we had a flight meeting to set up study groups. Jane had an idea that was kind of silly. Ross Russo, our student flight commander replied, "Jane you ignorant slut." We were all aghast. We didn't Know that they had known each other for years and it was an inside joke. Thereafter, Jane was our flight ignorant slut. Dave Kay in his swing.
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Frank "Bill" Keene. Andy McGregor. Jim Vanek getting ready for a little parasailing action. We got pulled up to about 100-150 feet - release, steer around a bit and land - usually on somthing that hurt. When class first started I though his name was John. After about a month he finally told me his name was Jim. From then on he was Jim-John. He liked it and it stuck for his callsign.
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Here's Aileron stylin' in a green jump suit and knee pads. We all got to do two of these parasails. My first one went fine but the second one landed me in a pile of rocks and I screwed up my neck. For a couple of months I had to get novocaine shots in my neck so I could fly. It wasn't until five years later that I found a chiropractor that fixed me up so I could actually turn my head while flying. Bill and Jody Keene. It was nice that wives and girlfriends were welcome on these training outings Bill Keene earthbound.
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Bill Keene - again. Ron Yelton coming in for a smooth landing. Dave Kay - F-15 to Bitburg.
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Going through pre-flight procedures for my first solo flight. My instructor was Dewey Novotny. He was an excellent I.P. and was voted best I.P. for the flight. Ron Yelton sticking his parachute in the jet. Pre-flight walk-around.
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Dewey Novotny and Ron Yelton More pre-flight. Can't go flying 'til the paperwork is done.
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I have no idea what was in there. Maybe it was a place to stash beer for after. Cools very well at altitude. About this time was when I discovered margaritas at the Club. Spent a lot of money on them and I could have bought a car with all the money I spent in there playing Asteroids. Summer in Phoenix! Any shade is good shade! More shade .
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The tires on this thing are smaller than the wheels on a bicycle. Ron Yelton. Climbing in the cockpit for my first solo ride in a jet. Yahoo! Strapping in.
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Setting the seat height. One hand up. Feelin'good - lookin' good!
I think this is my favorite T-37 picture. 		Can't go without a helmet.
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Last check with the crew chief. Take a deep breath... One last check through the cockpit...
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Here we go and it's now or never - "Start one." Post-start checks. Engines are screaming and it's time to solo!
It's no wonder they called it "The Tweet."
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What a great day! I soloed the T-37 and lived through it all. Here my instructor, Dewey Novotny came out to meet me with a handshake and a big smile. Instructors hate it when their solo students don't come back :)
Too much paperwork... 		After some congratulations in the squad room tradition holds that a pilot, upon completing his/her first solo, will be dragged through the mud and thrown into a pool of cold water. This was actually fun!
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Mud! More mud! They were very thorough. There was mud in every conceivable place.
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Our flight had its own dunking pool. O.K. That's enough of that... Ready? Here we go!
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...And we're done! The good part was that even though the water was green and slimey, it was 110 degrees out on the flightline. The cold water felt great! A handshake from our student flight commander, Ross Russo. Ross had around 4000 hours as an F-4 WSO before coming to UPT. He also owned a Pitt Special. He got an F-16 to McDill AFB, FL. and spent his the rest of his career in that wonderful jet. More handshakes.
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A handshake from Jane Oehme. Nobody wanted to get too close for fear of getting slimed. Soaked to the bone.
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It's all starting to soak in now. I soloed a T-37! A jet! 'KN-A! You know - I think I could have done alright in a wet t-shirt contest back then. Off to the showers - slam down a Rondo and a Milky Way bar - then back to the books. The contact check is next up.
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Here I am doing the pre-flight for my solo formation ride. Cranking it up. I'm an old hand at this by now.
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Ready... Ready... Go!
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Taking the runway. Lining up. Run 'em up!
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Head nod for brake release. On the roll! And we're off!
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Heading for the working areas. Damn good position if I do say so myself. One thing that I really loved about living in the desert was the thunderstorms.
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Sometimes the wind would bring cool looking sand storms. Once on a solo formation ride we came in
to do a formation landing. We were the last jets up and just as we touched down we went IFR in the sand. So cool!
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