Wings
INTERL VDE IN THE FOR TIES:
Memories of Dartmouth and the War by Robert Heussler '46 Privately published, 1980. 68 pp. 512.95
On January 7, 1943, a group of 45 Dartmouth students reported to Fort Devens to begin flight training in the Army Air Corps. Thus was born after much campus discussion and negotiation between the College and Washington the "Dartmouth Squadron." The squadron was unique, the result of a proud idea, yet an idea doomed by the vicissitudes of flight to short duration. For five training bases and nine months later, the squadron was no more. But by then 12 of its members had become Air Corps officers and were preparing, in widely scattered units, to test their pilots' wings in war.
In Interlude in the Forties, Robert Heussler recounts movingly and with humor the brief history of the Dartmouth Squadron, the vary- ing motivations of its members, the initial shock and indignities of service life, the joy of flying at long last one's own plane, the death of a friend with whom one had shared breakfast that morning, and the heartbreak of those who "washed out" during training and thus failed to achieve what to many young men at the time appeared a shining goal. As one of the 12 who achieved that goal, Heussler adds to the squadron history his subsequent experience in combat in the hope that "it will evoke memories of an interlude in the forties that we all shared, no matter which service we were in, or where we spent our war, or what has happened to us since."
During his training Heussler often pondered a crucial question: What makes a pilot? Not surprisingly, at this early stage, he found he didn't know. There are too many variables, he concluded, too many intangibles: temperament, "touch," the demands made by different types of aircraft and different kinds of missions. The answer came later, and what it took to make and be a B-17 pilot in World War II Heussler reveals in an episode no reader of this book is likely to forget.
It was a bombing raid over occupied France. Conditions were ideal: unlimited visibility, only light ack-ack en route, and no enemy fighters in sight. Nevertheless, something was amiss; something fateful seemed about to happen. The crews, approaching target at 20,000 feet, sensed it in their bones. Without warning, their premonition proved true. The sky around the lead squadrons erupted. They disappeared in a thundercloud of smoke and exploding shells. The German anti-aircraft fire was exactly on target. Within moments, the air was filled with falling debris and burning B-17s spinning crazily toward the ground. Heussler saw it all from his own cockpit and knew he must run the same gauntlet. The thought froze the blood, but his right hand advanced the throttles to speed and to regroup with the few undanS aircraft remaining.
What makes a pilot? More specifically wt, makes a bomber pilot under devastating a'tta for whom until his bombs are away th is no conceivable action but to tighten form-e tion and continue on course? Only disciple- makes such a pilot. Total discipline, something more.
After flying his 30 missions, Heussle- returned home on leave, only to begin anoth°- battle, this time against polio, which had struck him even while he crossed the Atlantic. Happily he recovered in time to re-enroll, in the fall 0f 1945, at Dartmouth, where more than half 0f the original squadron met again to complete their interrupted studies. For the old squadron mates, the return to Hanover was the fulfil;" ment of a dream. But it was not the same college they returned to. Nor were they the same men they had been before entering ser- vice. The experiences they had shared in uni- form and their nostalgia for the danger and idealism known in war set them apart from other students. How long would this difference this "experience gap" persist? Some over- came it before graduation. For others it would last all their lives.
Everett Wood, a recently retired PanAm pilot,flew 70 missions as a U.S. Navy pilot in WorldWar 11. He was awarded the Distinguished Fly-ing Cross by the British government.
