This Is Only A Test

A Ghost in the Machine

To cut straight to the chase, I tried to start another blog installment about a week ago and have been getting error messages off the blog software every time I've done it. Normally these sorts of things go away on their own, but it's been a while and this particular (and new, and darned annoying) problem hasn't gone anywhere, which means it's time to try to figure things out.

That's what's happening today---we're conducting a test. This is all the text you're going to get this time around and I'm running a photo too. The idea is to see what happens---with any luck all will be well. If not, at least we'll know. Stay tuned and please be patient with us!

phil

                                                                  Isham Collection

Not Fade Away, Some Forty-Niner Ns, Checkertails, and Nobody Had It Easy

Just Tell 'Em How to Do It

When I was a kid I'd build just about anything anybody cared to release in plastic, and it didn't really matter very much to me what it was. I built Revell, Aurora, Comet, and Monogram airplanes, AMT, JoHan, and Monogram cars, Revell and Adams ships, Bachmann birds, Hawk insects, Pyro dinosaurs, and just about anything else you could imagine that came as an unassembled plastic kit. My friends all did it and I did it too; it was a rite of passage in the 1950s and 60s.

Way back in the beginnings of this blog I introduced our readership to Jack Dusenberry, an old friend of mine from Misawa who was more interested in model airplanes than in the more ubiquitous (for our age group at the time, anyway) model cars. Jack got me started off in a slightly more serious direction in terms of modeling, and from that moment the die was cast. I became a prime candidate for conversion to a hard core modeler when my dad was assigned to Lackland AFB in 1965, a fact I mention because that transfer led me to discover Dibble's Arts and Hobbies (right down the street from my high school; how convenient was that?!) and ultimately introduced me to Frank Emmett, John de la Garza, Frank Garcia, Jim Wogstad, and Mike McMurtrey, among others. Serious Scale Modeling raised its siren's call and I answered. I was pretty lucky too, because those guys I mentioned up there, as well as so many others who are going to have to remain un-named today (there were a lot of those guys, because I wasn't a very good modeler!), mentored me and helped me get past all the mistakes we inevitably make when we set out on a new endeavor. I also bought a couple of how-to-do-it books by a well-known British modeler named Chris Ellis, which was when I discovered that the folks I just mentioned had already taught me what was in those volumes plus a great deal more. That helped me to form an opinion, which I'm going to share with you today.

There have always been books on how to do things, pretty much since people began, well, doing things! Of late we've seen a plethora (that's your test word for today; look it up if you don't know what it means) of publications, as well as DVDs, on how to build this kit or that one, or how to airbrush, or how to do almost anything you might want to do in terms of building a scale model airplane. In point of fact there is now, right now this minute, a Brand Spanking New Book on how to build the airplane kits of one particular manufacturer (and only that manufacturer) available for your perusal and potential purchase, and I have to admit that the concept seems somewhat peculiar to me.

In point of fact I own one or two of those How to Build the Whatever It Is Mk I books myself, purchased when I was in a well-stocked hobby shop and between marriages, which means I had a small surplus of spending money and a rather largish surplus of Lack of Good Sense. I bought those books, read them, and at the end of it all wondered why I'd spent the money. They seemed like a good idea at the time but, to be brutally frank about things, they really didn't teach me much of anything. That was the point where I stopped buying those How to Do It modeling books.

What does this have to do with anything, you might ask. The answer's a simple one; those guys I already mentioned, plus a bunch of others scattered across the country, are my de facto How to Do It guides. We look at each other's work and share ideas and techniques. We e-mail quite a bit. We send photos to each other. We discuss things and we learn. In consequence those various how-to-build-the-whatever-it-is guides rarely if ever grace any of our bookshelves.

That doesn't mean the aforementioned guides don't have merit, because they're generally authored by people who know what they're talking about and they're almost always worth a look. They can't and don't, however, replace discussion or that mentoring I mentioned up there in the beginning of this piece. The best way to learn is to do; there are no Silver Bullets in this hobby of ours, and reading a book isn't the same thing as talking to somebody like Brian Phillipson when it comes down to learning a new technique. It takes most people a while to ramp up, which isn't always the preferred thing in our instant gratification kind of world. Taking a little time to learn is what's needed, and if you develop some good modeling assets of the human variety I'm willing to bet you won't need very many of those guides. You can go spend the money on a kit or some stickies instead. Just a thought...

That's my story and, as usual, I'm sticking with it.

Puttin' It to Those Paint Pedantics One More Time

One of the few down-sides of this great hobby of ours is the fact that it's inhabited by so many instant experts, folks who know everything there is to know about everything there's anything to know anything about, and who will tell you about it (generally at great length) at the drop of a hat. Their world seems to be extremely buttoned down, and consists of phrases like "never was", "couldn't happen", "that's color shift in the photo", and on and on and on. You know the type and, unfortunately, you probably number at least one of them in your circle of modeling acquaintances. That's how the hobby is, and will probably always be---we're an opinionated bunch at best!

Anyway, I was rummaging through a couple of storage boxes of old models the other day, and came across a 1/48th scale Monogram F-111A I'd built way back in the 80s. (Those of you who might be inclined to write and tell me that Monogram never did a quarter-scale F-111 need to cool your jets---they picked up the old Aurora "Aardvark" molds, cleaned them up and added what detailing they could, and released the kit under their name.) That kit was what's best called an "opportunity", not too good and not too bad, but needing a lot of work to be brought up to any sort of reasonable standard. I was a Jet Guy in the 80s, and I had to have a 1/48th scale F-111A for the collection, so I bought the kit, and I built it.

That 428th TFS/474th TFW F-111A that I did off the Monogram kit came out ok, all things considered, and it held a place of pride in the collection for several years. A move from The Big City to the country saw it placed in a plastic bag and put into a box to keep it safe during the transit. The move was made and when it was over some models came out of their boxes to go back on the shelf, but that "Aardvark" stayed in storage. It sat there, ignored and forgotten, for a little over twenty years. I rediscovered it one fine Sunday afternoon, and took it out to marvel at my handiwork (or lack of same), and was amazed, not at my plastic modeling expertise, but at something that had happened to the model during those years of storage. Let's take a look.

Since we're talking about a problem and not about building a Monogram F-111, this is all you get to see of the model today. The photo shows the starboard side of the wing glove, all painted and pretty. That paint is Floquil, real, honest-to-Goodness Dio-Sol laden Floquil. It's been on the model since the year the kit came out, and is now tough enough to survive the ravages of solar flares and small children. It's cured. It's set. It's color fast and bullet-proof. Maybe.

Or maybe not. Let's go back and do a quick review, and you'll understand just how significant this second photo is. That old Monogram (nee-Aurora) kit had the option of operating swing-wings, and that's how it was built. Although capable of extension, the model spent the few years it was on display with those wings retracted, since having them at full span made the model too big for the shelf on which it resided at the time. They stayed retracted when the kit went into a box, and remained that way until it was removed from said asylum some eight months ago. The model  sat in a closed, dark box, in a climate-controlled environment, for 20+ years. It was painted with the best, most color-stable hobbyist's paint known to man, and the model exhibited color shift while in storage. Not much happened to the greens, or at least I don't think much happened to them, but that tan! Holy Cow!

Now to the Great Mystery, and a small conclusion. The tan was one shade while the model was out on display but it's obviously shifted on all the exposed surfaces, while the portion of the starboard wing that was hidden under the wing glove remained the way it was the day the paint was mixed. While it was out in the light, so to speak, it was in subdued lighting, and never direct sunlight. That's worth repeating---the tan wasn't two-toned while the model was on display---the shift occurred over a number of years, while the model sat in a dark box in air-conditioned storage. That's the mystery: How did it happen?

To my mind the damage started out during that handful of years while the model was out on display. I think the paint took just enough light to start the ball rolling, color-shift wise, and the years the model sat forlornly in a dark box couldn't save it. Much like skin cancer on a human being the damage had been done years before, while the model sat on a shelf exposed only to indirect sunlight (a window) and incandescent light. The tan paint shouldn't have shifted like that, but it did.

I'm not a chemist, so I'm not going to try to tell you why that paint changed, although I personally believe that the red (a constituent color of tan paint) faded over time, because red isn't a particular stable pigment. The point, in terms of this particular model and nothing else, is that the tan faded. There's a bigger point to be considered, though; one that may cause you some personal soul-searching.

We all like to believe that we're building for the ages. We want our models to last, and to stay just the way they were when they came off the workbench, but that's probably not going to happen. Clear-coats will yellow over time, thus skewing the color shades a little bit (and if you don't believe me I've got a ten-year old slightly-yellow bottle of Future I'd like to show you), and model paint can, and evidently will, fade or change hue with time. We're dealing with chemistry and pigments here, folks, and paint changes as the aromatics in it out-gasses over a period of time. Just because the paint is "completely" dry and sealed doesn't mean it isn't changing, albeit at a rate most of us will never notice. It happens on anything that's got paint on it, from your house to your car to real airplanes, so why shouldn't it happen to painted models as well?

That's the premise, so what's the conclusion? To my mind it's simple. The paint on our models will shift its hue over time. It's probably inevitable, with certain colors being more obviously effected than others. The Good News is that it probably doesn't matter very much at the end of the day. If that old F-111 model hadn't had operating swing-wings I never would have noticed the color shift it experienced, even though it was anything but subtle. There's now no doubt in my mind that some of my older models have also experienced a small amount of color shift, just like anything that's wearing a coat of paint will do. Now that I know it's probably happening I recognize it, but I also ignore it. It's a slow process and I honestly don't expect to have to be concerned about it during my lifetime. It ain't nothin' but a Thang, ya'll, but it's a Thang that'll give The Color Pedantics something else to worry about. For the rest of us, let's just build that model, paint it and seal it and decal it and seal it again, and then move on!

Opinions are welcomed. That address is replicainscale@yahoo.com .

Some Naughty Novembers

We've got a thing for the 49th FG around here. Maybe it's the fact that they were successful with the P-40 when a great many other units weren't, or maybe we're just fascinated by the Group's heraldry. Whatever the allure is, we're fascinated by the unit, which means we're always excited when we receive images we haven't seen before. Johnathan Watson recently sent us some photos of 7th and 8th FS P-40Ns with nose art you might not be familiar with, and we'd like to share them with you today.

"Scarlet Night" was one of those rare 49th FG P40Ns to operate in natural metal, albeit briefly while assigned to the headquarters group. We suspect she was at Middleburg Island when this photo was taken, since a couple of other bare metal 7th FS/49th FG P-40Ns were operating out of the place as well, but we don't have definitive proof one way or the other. The spinner is most likely blue and white, and the side number is black. She's a beautiful enigma, isn't she?  Johnathan Watson Collection

Some photos raise a whole lot more questions than they answer, and this shot of the 8th's  "The Bastard" proves the point. There's a name, of course, and some very obvious nose art, but there's additional artwork in white, including a white female figure that partially overlaps the intake cover just forward of the exhaust stacks. If any of our readers have a better shot of this airplane we'd love to see it! Johnathan Watson Collection

There's no name on this side yet, just the ubiquitous nude female figure, but the aircraft will eventually carry the name "Dorothy Mae" above the figure. Some of the 49th's nose art was extremely well-done and rivals any to be found anywhere in theater, but this one wasn't among those masterpieces. It makes the point, though, doesn't it? Note the white gauze behind the perforated intake cover---it was a common mod to P-40Ns serving in the SWPAC and helped eliminate some of the ever-present dust.  Johnathan Watson Collection

OK, scale modelers: Here's your Official Weathering Challenge for the day. #56 is beat to snot, to borrow a phrase from our youth. From those worn prop blades, which have virtually no black paint left on them, to the extensive staining on the nose (and no, Virginia, that's not the remnants of a green-on-earth paint job; the 49th's N-models were all OD over NG), to the dented (and unpainted) gas bag hanging under her belly, this is one airplane that's seen better days. Check out the mud and slop that P-40 is sitting in; in the SWPAC you could go from choking dust to heavy mud in the blink of an eye. The sharp-eyed among you have probably already noted that this is the second #56 we've shown in this essay. Is it the same aircraft as "The Bastard", or is it a replacement airframe? We don't know, but if you do we'd like to hear from you. The address is replicainscale@yahoo.com .  Johnathan Watson Collection

A handful of 49th FG P-40Ns are famous among enthusiasts and modelers because they've been published often and are therefore well known. "Empty Saddle" is one of those airplanes---everybody's familiar with the nose art, although it's worth mentioning that the actual rendition is somewhat more crudely done that is normally displayed on decal sheets. Aficionados of the 49th probably recall that this aircraft carries the name "Keystone Katie" on the port side of the nose.   Johnathan Watson Collection

One more thing before we leave The Forty-Niners today---the sharp-eyed among you have probably already noticed that all but one of the images we've just shown you are on the starboard side of the aircraft. That doesn't mean that that's all there was, however. From its earliest days the group tended to put nose art on both sides of their aircraft, not just one, and that art was often completely different from one side to the other. That makes these images all the more fascinating, and gives us a small research project to boot! Many thanks to Johnathan for the use of the photos.

More Memories of Misawa

Some of you may, by now, be speculating that we would devote this blog to Misawa Air Base and the goings on thereof if it were in our power to do so. The simple truth is that we loved the place, and thoroughly enjoyed our stay there. Allow us to reminisce for a moment and tell you why by means of a couple of There I Was stories. (We know you're probably sick of them by now, but we're not. Feel free to skip on down to the pictures if you'd prefer not to endure yet another story of mis-spent youth!)

Story the First involved a very simple adventure, mundane to most but formative to a 14-year-old Phillip Friddell. There we were (I'm using that annoying third person again), standing out in the yard in front of Jack Dusenberry's quarters one fine Spring afternoon in 1963, when jet noise caused us to look upwards. There it was; the first real F-102A we'd ever seen in our lives, and it was honking over the base housing area at what seemed to be a rather sporty rate of speed, all banked over (to the point where we could easily see the pilot sitting in the cockpit) and showing off a set of red and black checkerboards on its tail. It was a "Deuce", ya'll; a real live F-102A, and it was doing everything it needed to do to impress an aviation-struck teenager short of loosing a salvo of rockets. That was it---in that brief moment we knew beyond any doubt that we were going to enjoy living in Japan.

Story the Second was one of those things that a lot of folks don't think happens at American Military Installations, but they do, and in this case the hi-jinx resulted in an Article 15 for a pair of young airmen. The year was 1964, the last full year before the 4th FIS rotated back to the Land of the Big BX, and the place was the taxiway near the alert barns wherein the 4th kept a pair of '102s, loaded and cocked and ready to launch at a moment's notice if the whistle blew. Those alert birds were rotated out periodically for servicing, so there was a fairly constant stream of F-102s being pulled around the ramp by tow tractors.

Dragging airplanes around a flight line with a tug is a fun thing the first time or two you do it, but boredom sets in as soon as the shiny wears off that particular penny, which is what we presume caused the two young airmen operating said tugs to decide they needed to stage a drag race. Yep, you heard that right; a drag race. Each tug was hooked up to a fueled and armed "Deuce" which, in a sense, made it a fair competition for all concerned. A fellow conspirator served as the starting flagman, and it has to be presumed that another accomplice sat at the designated finish line, although he apparently got away before anybody could positively identify him. Imagine, if you will, how totally out of place it is to have a pair of jet fighters, firmly attached to tow tractors, sitting side by side on a taxiway while a third airman stands in front of them twirling his arms in the air in the finest Gentlemen, Start Your Engines tradition. The start was apparently something to see (and was seen, in the control tower and elsewhere), but the finish was relatively anticlimactic once the Security Police got there. The story was all over the base by the next morning, and the tug drivers were minor-league celebrities for at least ten minutes. They probably didn't want a career in the Air Force anyway.

Story the Third was an ongoing one and probably made for great stories in the O-Club stag bar, but Story the Third was a scary story too in as much as it involved periodic incursions of Japanese airspace by The Bad Guys and intercepts of said Bad Guys by those checkerboard-adorned fighters. Things apparently got a little sporty from time to time (one of my friend's dads once told me of a twilight chase through the nearby mountains trying to catch a snooper), but it was all in a day's work. It's why they were there; it was all part of the job.

At any rate, the 4th FIS was a rarity in PACAF, a fighter unit that had spent The Big One flying in one of those other theaters of operations rather than in the Pacific. We're not interested in that North African and European service today, though, so we're going to skip right past it, at least for the moment. Instead, we'll take up the story in February of 1947, when the squadron took over the P-61s formerly flown by the 418th Night Fighter Squadron and assumed station at Yontan, Okinawa. The squadron transitioned to F-82s during 1949 (and briefly flew combat missions in them over Korea during 1950-51) and did TDY in Japan---the 4th gave up the last of its F-61s while there. The F-82s bit the dust in 1952, replaced by F-94s, which lasted until their replacement by F-86Ds in 1954. For our purposes the final chapter in the 4th's history began with the acquisition of F-102s in 1960, which the squadron kept until rotation back to the ZI in 1965. In Okinawa they were stationed at Yontan, Naha, and Kadena Air Bases, while their sole base in mainland Japan was at Misawa. Thanks to the kindness of Marty Isham we're going to take a look at several of the 4th's aircraft flown during their stay in the Far East.

OK, Gang: It's an F-61B from the 4th and it's operating out of one of the bases (probably Yontan) in Okinawa, but once you get past that we're stumped. We can tell that it's flying form with another Black Widow and we know the unit, but that's it; no serial number and no markings of any kind reside on that airframe! We presume it's had a visit to an overhaul facility and is being test flown prior to a visit to corrosion control for paint, but that's as much as we know. Scale modelers, here's your challenge for the day!  Maj J. Redrup via Isham Collection

Here's what a ramp full of F-82Gs looks like, just in case you've never seen such a thing before. The place is Okinawa, although we aren't entirely certain of the base, and those fighters are all Plain Janes without a distinguishing mark to be seen. On the face of things it's a boring photo, but it documents the 4th early in their ops with the Twin Mustang, which makes it of considerable interest to us.  Maj J. Redrup via Isham Collection

This is a poor shot at best, soft and out of focus, but it shows an F-82G in the air over the Ryukyus, which makes it of historical value. We can't make out the buzz number on the aft fuselage but we can definitely see the squadron markings. Kind of makes you wish for a decent kit, doesn't it?  Maj J. Redrup via Isham Collection

Since we've just run two photos of F-82Gs where we can't see much of anything, it's time to make amends. Here's 46-0394, in flight during the last few months prior to the commencement of hostilities on the Korean peninsula. "Dottie Mae" was a looker but she didn't last long; she was reassigned to the 68th FIS and lost in action over Korea during March of 1951. Would any of our readers care to educate us as to the doohickey hanging off that outboard port wing station?  Maj J. Redrup via Isham Collection

And here's "Call Gal", 46-0400, all tarted up with command stripes. Another transferee to the 68th, she crashed to her destruction near K-14 on 7 December, 1951. This shot provides us with an excellent view of her silver landing gear struts and the interior of her MLG doors, as well as her silver wheels---modelers would be doing themselves a considerable disservice by painting everything Jet on an F-82!  Spry via Isham Collection

The 4th gave up their F-82s for F-94Bs but retained their all-weather fighter role. This ramp shot was taken at Naha shortly after the transition, and shows a lineup of really pretty 4th FIS Starfires. It's interesting to consider that, at the end of the day, the F-94B was a highly modified F-80, and that it was a state-of-the-art interceptor while assigned to the 4th. Things were a whole lot simpler back then.  Larry Chase via Isham Collection

51-5475 sits for her portrait on the ramp at Naha during 1952. All that wear and tear suggests she's led a full and possibly hard life but she's holding up well, and the squadron badge and lightning flashes on her flanks really compliment her lines. She was an F-94B-5-LO, and her appearance here typifies the way the Starfire looked in PACAF service.  Minert Collection via Isham

You just never know where a sharkmouth will turn up, do you? In this form shot 51-5477 carries the marking on her gas bags as well as her nose---what a subject for a scale model! USAF via Isham Collection

After a stint in F-94s the 4th transitioned once again, this time to F-86Ds. It was during this period that the definitive red and black checkerboard markings were adopted for the tail. 52-3958, an F-86D-45-NA Sabre, shows off those markings and a command stripe while sitting on the ramp at Misawa during 1954. The nose cap on the gas bags is also red, and that anti-glare panel is olive drab. The "Dog" wasn't the prettiest of the Sabres but simple markings such as the 4th's checkerboard really showed off her lines to good advantage.  Isham Collection

56-4004 sits off the wing of what we think is a C-46 (PACAF used them in Japan for hauling ass and trash until the mid-60s) while overflying northern Honshu. Her checkerboard has yet to be added but there's no doubt as to her unit or purpose. It should be noted that F-86D radomes were often black, but they could also be dark green or, sometimes, olive drab. This one appears to be faded black. It's something to watch out for if you plan on building a model of the "Sabre Dog".  USAF via F Klais via Isham Collection

You've all seen this shot of 52-4247 before; we ran it a year or so ago, back before we were watermarking our images, and it's subsequently turned up all over the internet, generally without provenance, on user groups and in photo-sharing sites. (Heavy sigh...)  Note the difference in anti-glare panel treatments between the two aircraft in this photo---the one on 4247 is olive drab while the one on the unidentified aircraft immediately behind her appears to be black. That "gap" between the anti-glare panel and the radome is normal for the "Dog Ship".  Menard Collection via Isham

The Opposing Team often flew near, and occasionally into, Japanese air space during the Cold War. Sometimes they got away with it but more often than not they got themselves intercepted. This photo shows what appears to be 52-4055 flying formation with a Beriev flying boat after one such intercept. The guys flying for the other side were highly disciplined and professional aviators, which made this sort of thing easier than it could have been---the chances of somebody (on either side) going cowboy and doing something stupid were relatively slim. Note the angle of attack on the "Dog"; the Sabre didn't like to stooge around at prop airspeeds!  USAF via Isham Collection

Any of our readers who've been at Misawa during the winter months will feel right at home with this image! The 4th got F-102As during 1960 and flew air defense missions with them through most of 1964. Misawa was snowbound (but almost always functional) from late November until early March; 56-0959 (an F-102A-51-CO) is being readied for flight, although it's going to take a while to get all the accumulated snow off her! The 4th kept a pair of "Deuces" in Misawa's alert barns at all times, guaranteeing that at least one section of interceptors could launch quickly if needed. There were no other USAF interceptor squadrons operating out of northern Japan during the 1960-64 time frame, which placed a great responsibility on the F-102s of the 4th.  Thomas via Kerr via Isham Collection

If ever there were a classic shot of the 4th FIS this would have to be it. F-102A 56-0960, another -51-CO, was the squadron commander's bird when the USAF photographed her flying in close formation with F-100D 55-3765. Both aircraft were assigned to the 39th AD (the two-colored Alars on the tail of that "Hun" indicate wing level maintenance; prior to 1961 the 416th TFS wore blue markings and the 531st wore red) in what would be the twilight of the classic period of USAF operations at Misawa. "Red Striped Rascal" was immortalized on a MicroScale decal sheet in 1/72nd scale, and we think there may be a SuperScale sheet out there for her in 1/48th as well. You gotta love the Silver Air Force! (And yes; we know those "Deuces" were aircraft grey, so don't write in to tell us about it!) USAF via Isham Collection

Under the Radar

Every once in a while you find one of those books that becomes a favorite just because of the way it's written. Today's offering is one of those special books.

The F-86 Sabre, R.J. Childerhose, Arco Publishing, New York, 1965, a modest number of un-paginated pages, illustrated. Way back in the middle 60s there existed a series of aviation titles known colloquially as "The Morgan Books", so-named because Len Morgan caused them to be written and published. For the most part they're brief, and not what the contemporary enthusiast would expect in the way of an aircraft monograph. They're also factual and well illustrated by Richard Groh, and the ones on specific aircraft contain portions of the appropriate flight manuals as well. They're deceptively good books, particularly when we consider how old they now are. What sets this particular volume apart from its Morgan siblings is the author's writing style---Ray Childerhose, aka "Chickenhouse", flew Sabres with what was, at the time, the RCAF, which means he knew of which he wrote, and he wrote what he knew with great humor. The book is informative, extremely well-written by a man with a passion for the airplane, and is hilarious. We bought our copy in the late 60s and loaned it to contributor Rick Morgan sometime back in the mid-80s. When he returned it we asked him what he thought of it. His answer? "I'm still laughing!" He thought it was one of the funniest aviation books he'd ever read, and we have to agree with him. Humor can be a Very Good Thing!

If you want a copy for your own library you'll have to get it through one of the on-line booksellers or maybe at a trade table at a scale model show, since it's been out of print for many years. It cost a whopping three bucks when it was new, and probably won't set you back much more than that today. It'll be well worth the effort too. Don't believe us? Just grab a copy and flip to the chapter entitled "Forty Americans Cornered Over Bitburg". You'll understand what we mean. Recommended.

Mud Doesn't Care Who You Are

We're always talking about the crummy operating conditions prevailing in the SouthWest Pacific during the Second World War, and we've repeatedly illustrated that point with photographs sent to us through the kindness of Bobby Rocker. Here's another photo of that sort of thing to emphasize what we're talking about. We suspect, with no way of being absolutely certain, that this P-40 engine change is taking place in the Solomons. We know beyond any doubt that the airplanes belong to the RNZAF, and we're pretty certain that arguing that Allison into position in the bug-infested heat and humidity can in no way be described as fun. We rarely think of that side of the war but it was the harsh day-to-day reality; nobody would've ever gotten off the ground if it weren't for the guys doing this in all sorts of weather conditions. There were no easy days.  RNZAF via Rocker Collection

The Relief Tube

We've got a couple of comments to share  with you today, so let's get started:

First, from Doug Barbier:

Phil, that last Happy Snap (in our most recent issue) certainly caught me by surprise. It was a sad day in more than one way - I flew as #3 in the last mission the unit flew - a 6-ship demonstration for the rest of the unit. The only flying we did after that was to ferry the jets off to either another unit or the boneyard. So it was my last flight and the last of the fighters for the 171st. As an aside - I drove 777s not 747s but the end result was the same. My son Geoff took the picture. Doug

Thanks, Doug, and apologies to Geoff for not properly crediting the photo.

In that 80s T-33 piece we ran a photo of an NAS Key West ramp full of ANG T-33s and commented that we didn't know what the occasion was. If you recall we asked the photographer, Rick Morgan, to explain what was going on. Here's his response: 

Phil: The gathering of ADC-related T-33As at Key West occurred on 5 Dec 1980 and was related to an Operational Readiness Inspection (ORI) of the “Tarpon” radar site at the base as well as the Aerostat blimp that was tethered at Cudjoe Key. Three of the T-birds were from the 46th ADW at Tyndall (53-5818, 58-0632, 58-0527), 125th FIG (FL ANG) 53-5325, 177TH FIG (NJ ANG) 57-0715.   Rick

Thanks, Morgo! (And, for the record, we've got more T-Birds on the way as well as some pertinent comments from a former T-33 driver, so stay tuned!)

And that's it for today. Be good to your neighbor and we'll meet again soon!
phil

An Amazing Delta, Some 80s T-Birds, a Hog, and A Famous Flight Deck

It's All in the Way You See It

In our most recent (and highly thrilling) edition of ongoing ramblings, edifications, and general silliness, you got to read a missive concerning my complete inability to get up the enthusiasm to finish a couple of models that are both so close to completion it's scary. You may or may not agree with the whole concept of the thing---that it's the pleasure you take from the building of the model rather than the completion of the model itself, but I personally subscribe to the theory. I think it's a valid notion and it goes without saying that I'm going to expound on it today. (That means I'm going to talk some more.)

First, our most recent premise was that you didn't necessarily need to feel somehow inferior or cheapened if you didn't actually complete everything single thing you started; it's perfectly fine to burn out on something if you get tired of it or become overwhelmed by it. Admittedly, you can't use that sort of logic if you're at work, and in particular if your job is that of an airline pilot or heart surgeon ("When he wakes up tell him I just wasn't feeling it today. Sew him up and we'll try again when I'm interested in doing it."). No; you can't do that sort of thing in real life, but you absolutely can if whatever it is happens to be your hobby.

Don't believe me? That's fine, but consider this before you skip to the next article in this blog: Most people who have a hobby are involved in it because they enjoy it and it relaxes them. It soothes their souls and makes them feel good. It relieves stress. It reduces anxiety. It makes their lives better. If you'll accept that as a premise, then you'll almost immediately understand why it's ok to put something aside if it becomes more trouble than it's worth. You can even throw it away if you want to, although I rarely take it that far myself, or you can put it away so you can work on it at a later date. At this very moment my personal shelf of opportunity (I don't buy into that whole Shelf of Doom thing, as we've discussed at least once before on these pages) includes, in no particular order, a Monogram F-106A that's been in work since it first came out in the 1980s, a Heller RF-84F of the same vintage and start date, a Monogram T-6 (yes; that one), a Hobby Boss FJ-4B, an Eduard Albatros DV, 1/110th-scale Revell HMS Bounty that I started in 1976, and two Fw190s. They've accumulated over the past 30 years or so and will all eventually be completed. Maybe.

The point of the whole thing is that it's a hobby of mine and only that, and if something I'm working on becomes more effort than it's worth I'll put it aside for a better day. That Albatros I mentioned in the previous paragraph is the one I used as a test subject to demonstrate how to do rib tapes with a colored pencil and it's done, completely finished except for a couple of little folded metal covers for the wings that I just can't work up the steam to make, and the rigging. It looks really neat and I can't wait to get it completed and on the shelf, but I'm not ready to do that just now because I'm thinking those tiny little covers are going to be a real pain in the patootie to make and I'm just not interested in that sort of thrash at the moment. That "Six" may never be finished, the RF-84F is right up there with it in the "enemy on beach, condition in doubt" realm, and, at the end of the day, it really doesn't matter. I'll build something else. I do this for fun.

So here's The Big Question of the day: Why do you build models? Is it fun? Does it soothe your soul? Does working on a model make you feel better? Those are questions that are well worth the asking, but you have to keep in mind that there's no "right" or "wrong" answer. It's a hobby. It's your hobby.

Just sayin'.

There's Never Been Anything Like It

There was a time, not all that long ago, when Conventional Wisdom said that you needed to fly high and really, really fast if you wanted to drop bombs on somebody. It was a wisdom that worked out just fine when the guys who were going to be defending against you didn't have anything more formidable than flak and fighters for you to contend with; both defenses were tough enough to deal with, but neither was something that could stop the show. Then, one day in 1960, a missile battery in the former Soviet Union managed to shoot down a dark blue airplane with no national markings that was flying a great many thousands of feet over their territory taking pictures of classified installations. The game had changed forever.

Convair's B-58 Hustler had been originally designed to contend with The World That Was. It was FAST; a supersonic bomber in an era when such things just didn't exist. It could carry a healthy weapons load in an era when one big honkin' bomb was enough for the mission, and it was highly advanced. It was also, after that day in 1960, far more vulnerable than it had been before as mission profiles shrank down into the weeds in order to avoid the newly emerging SAM threat. The whole purpose of the high-altitude supersonic bomber had disappeared in the wink on an eye and the Hustler quickly followed.

Through the graciousness of the Greater St Louis Air and Space Museum we have a few photographs of that incredibly beautiful airplane to share with you today. Let's take a look.

55-0662 was one of the more famous B-58s. She was involved in a great many of the test programs that brought the Hustler up to operational status (Doppler tests, auto-pilot and nav system testing, and various other related programs) and earned the dubious distinction of being the first B-58A to blow all of her tires on landing. She was the test airframe for the YJ93 program and was re-designated to NB-58A at that time. Finally, she was converted to TB-58A status. She was assigned to the 93rd BW while operational, and went to MASDC in 1970, finally being scrapped out in 1977. She was carrying her NB-58A moniker when this shot was taken in May of 1960. We're going to call her a gorgeous airplane.  Olson via Greater St Louis Air and Space Museum via Mark Nankivil

This Hustler was another early bird. 55-0666 was the YRB-58A and was used extensively for testing. Among her other accomplishments was a ground-breaking sustained 32 minute flight at Mach 2+. She also made an 11-hour 15-minute test flight, becoming the first B-58 to accomplish a flight of that length. At one time she was involved in the testing of the B-134 pod. Most of the B-58 fleet ended up as pots and pans, but 666 was sent to Chanute AFB for public display at the end of her service career. Ostrowski via Greater St Louis Air and Space Museum via Mark Nankivil

60-2059 was a service bird and was assigned to the 305th BW when this photo was taken in May of 1964. She's named "Greased Lightning" in this shot, but carried "Can Do" on her flanks earlier on. She achieved fame in a non-stop supersonic flight from Tokyo to London (some 8,000 nautical miles) and ended up on display at the SAC museum at Offutt. The "discolorations" at the tip of her vertical stab are antennae covers; just watch somebody jump up and offer them as proof of the application of a SIOP scheme to the Hustler!  Ostrowski via Greater St Louis Air and Space Museum via Mark Nankivil

Why Can't They Get It Right?

As the Second World War was drawing to a close the various nations involved in that conflict were all heavily engaged in the development of new technologies, one of which was jet propulsion for military aircraft. All of the major combatants designed and built jet fighters (and bombers, in the case of Nazi Germany) or, at the very least, experimental designs that could have led to a combat aircraft, but only the United States, Great Britain, and Germany actually put such designs into service use.

In the United States, the first of such aircraft was the Lockheed P-80, a seminal design that spawned the P-80/F-80, the T-33, and the F-94. All of these aircraft have been kitted as plastic models (and the P-80 in wood) at one time or another, but for some reason precious few of those kits have been worth having, at least in terms of shape and dimensional accuracy, and it seems that the older kits are by far the better ones in terms of overall fidelity to the real thing.

As a case in point we'd like to offer the once-ubiquitous Lockheed T-33. A two-seat outgrowth of the basic P-80 design, it was built in the thousands and flown by air forces (and naval air arms) around the world. There was a time when anyone learning to fly military aircraft in a non-communist country was almost guaranteed to take at least some part of their training in the "T-Bird", and the type survived in service, as a hack and proficiency trainer, long after it had been superseded in actual service in its original design capacity. A great many examples survive to this day and more than a few are flying in civilian hands, which means there are a lot of real ones for the folks who design plastic kits to measure,  yet the more recent polystyrene offerings of the type leave a great deal to be desired in terms of accuracy. (Our personal favorite kits are the Hawk offering in 1/48th scale and the Hasegawa kit in 1/72nd, the former of which is a survivor of the 1950s and the latter the early 1970s. Take that with however many grains of salt you'd like, but if we were going to build a T-33 those are the kits we'd start with). That said, we aren't going to offer a detailed look at any of those kits today, but rather a selection of photographs from the type's twilight years in the 1980s, in order to give the modeler an opportunity to build something a little unique. Let us proceed.

May of 1980 saw your editor on the ramp at Ellington ANG Base near Houston for an airshow. 58-0707, a T-33A-5-LO, was sitting on the ramp in all her natural metal glory, a rarity in that time period since most of the remaining T-33s in the Air Force had long-since been painted in overall Aircraft Grey. She was carrying a travel pod and an ADTAC shield on her vertical stab, but for all appearances could have stepped right out of the late 1950s. Note that crew access ladder, a purpose-built piece of GSE specific to the type. It could be mounted to either side of the aircraft but often ended up on the right side of the Shooting Star family. That's something to watch if you're building a model of the type.  P Friddell

58-0592 was another T-33A-5-LO that was still in natural metal finish in 1980. She was assigned to the 26th AD when Dennis Kuykendall photographed her in July of that year, and her attractive lines were complimented by the red/white/blue trim of her parent unit. The "T-Bird" is one of the few American military aircraft that had its speedboards deployed when parked, and it was often seen with the flaps down as well, a fact that will be greatly appreciated by the Drop Everything and Let It Hang school of scale modelers! 0592 ended her days on public display in Vermont.   D Kuykendall

The 111th FIS/147th FIG out of Ellington AFB was one of the more famous ANG users of the type, primarily because of the unit's markings during the late 70s and early 80s---the 111th was on F-101B Voodoos at the time, but like most air defense units of the era still had several T-33A on hand for use as hacks. 52-9223 was one of those aircraft. She was built as a T-33A-1-LO and spent an active career in Air Training Command before ending up as one of the favorite weekend mounts of "The Texans". She's shown here in the overall Aircraft Grey scheme so typical of aircraft assigned to ADC (or, in this case, ADTAC) units of the day. She's carrying a travel pod and her speedboards are only partially-deployed.   P Friddell

There was a time, way back in that almost forgotten pre-computer age, when written correspondence was done on paper with some sort of a writing instrument. (Those of you of an appropriate age can explain that to your offspring if you're so-inclined!). We mention that because of our long-standing friendship with Rick Morgan, who shot this lineup of ANG T-33As at NAS Key West in December of 1980. There had to have been a reason why all those "T-Birds" were there at that time, and we're more than certain Rick told us all about it in the letter accompanying the slide, but that letter is long-gone so we can't explain it---how about it, Morgo?  Take a look at the paint schemes on those aircraft, all of which are in aircraft grey except for the one sitting second-to-last, which is still in natural metal. It really shows off the contrast in schemes, doesn't it?  R Morgan

January of 1982 saw Marty Isham in Alaska during one of his assignments to Seward's Ice Box, which is where he shot 53-4900. Built as a T-33A-1-LO, she had recently arrived on the ramp (note the melted snow and ice beneath her aft fuselage) when Marty took this gorgeous photo. There's no travel pod attached, but everything's hanging in this evocative shot, and her crew ladder is sitting on the deck beside her starboard nose. It's a beautiful scheme, and a neat idea for a display.  M Isham

The late, lamented Kelly AFB (known nowadays as Lackland AFB, in an instance where the sibling absorbed the parent during the throes of a late 20th-Century base-closing frenzy) sits in the middle of the southern half of the continental US, a fact that saw a great many military aircraft transitioning through it on cross-countries. It also saw the occasional special event, once of which was the reason for the 49th FIS' 57-0698 to be there in January of 1980. The ANG convention that brought her there during that month caught her in her all her natural metal glory, albeit with Aircraft Grey tip tanks. Note the anti-glare panel on her nose, which is in non-specular black.  Friddell

The boys from Vermont got around. This T-33A-1-LO, 53-5121, was sitting on the same ramp as 57-0698 immediately above when we snapped this portrait. She's from the Vermont ANG's 134th DSES/158th DSEG, and she's immaculate in her overall Aircraft Grey scheme. This time the boarding ladder is on her port side and is in place, giving the modeler an excellent idea of how the aircraft looked when said ladder was fitted. Everything's hanging, as we've come to expect of parked "T-Birds", and she's carrying a travel pod. Those bang seats are common to all of the aircraft in this particular essay, but are not the first-generation seats that were fitted when any of the aircraft in this photo essay were first built. That's a point to watch if you're modeling a two-hole Shooting Star.  P Friddell

There's one thing about grey airplanes---sometimes they really look GREY! The New Jersey ANG's 58-0611 is a case in point. Assigned to the 177th FIG in 1984, she was transient on the ramp at Selfridge when Ron Kowalczyk took her portrait. That tail code treatment is extremely reminiscent of the way the NAV does such things and looks distinctly out of place on this airplane, doesn't it? It's just that sort of anomaly that makes her a fine candidate for a scale model, and her almost nonexistent weathering makes her an easy date for the new or intermediate modeler.  R Kowalcyzk

Here's a "T-Bird" you don't see every day. 51-4120, an early T-33A-1-LO, was, at one time, the oldest flying USAF aircraft in the active inventory. At one point she was converted to NT-33A status with the addition of the nose from an F-94 but was never designated as anything other than a T-33 variant. She was finally retired in 1997 and put on permanent display at the Air Force Museum (we're dinosaurs around here and don't use the currently fashionable name---go figure!) in Dayton, a proud reminder of her glory days. She was still active and on the ramp at an air show when Mark Morgan caught her in October of 1984.   M Morgan

The 84th FITS had 58-0707 on strength in March of 1985, when she was on the ramp at a SoCal air show. She's absolutely pristine and nearing the end of her days in this photo, a beautiful reminder of the Age of the Silver Air Force (and yes; we know she isn't silver!). The T-33 was designed, and originally built, with a pair of .50 caliber guns in the nose, but none of these aircraft carry them. (There was an armed AT-33 variant, but that particular aircraft is beyond the scope of this essay.) Note the black-painted tip of the vertical stab on this bird; it could also have been white, as illustrated by several of the aircraft in this piece.  M Morgan

Virtually all of the ANG F-101B and F-106A units of the 1980s had T-33As attached to them, as beautifully illustrated by the Florida ANG (159th FIS) bird shot at Tyndall in August of 1985 by John "Mad Dog" Kerr. Florida's markings were tasty yet subdued, and were well-suited to the T-33. 52-9803 had been built as a T-33A-1-LO and was last seen in a scrapyard, a sad end to a gorgeous old airplane.   J Kerr

We'll finish up our Ode to the 80s with this shot of Oregon's 53-5959, a T-33A-5-LO, on the ground in March of 1988. The 123rd FIS knew how to paint an airplane, and that's well illustrated on 5959 as she sits in her parking slot at the Home Drome. She ended her days in the air force of Uruguay, where those underwing stations may have been of some value. She's a pretty bird, and this photo is an appropriate way to end our essay on the immortal "T-Bird".   M Morgan

Under the Radar

Jay Miller is a name known to most aerospace historians. The series of publications he produced and, in many cases authored, are still considered to be essential references for their subject aircraft. One of those books is the subject of today's feature.

Aerograph 4, Convair B-58, Jay Miller, AeroFax Press, Arlington, 1985, 136 pp, Illustrated.  If you have an interest in the B-58 and can only own one reference on the type, this is the one. It's safe to say that Jay never wrote or produced a bad book, but several of them were exceptional references, and this title is perhaps the best of them all. The author had full and unrestricted access to the old Convair files while researching the project and it showed in this work---the information presented told the Hustler story with no gaps, and its photographs and technical illustrations helped to make it the book on the type; every pod, every weapon, and every projected development for the aircraft was described and, in most instances, illustrated as well. At a ripe old age of 23 years it's still the standard reference for the type, albeit one you'll only find in used book stores or on one of those internet auction sites these days. It's well worth the price of admission and should be on the shelves of every enthusiast who's interests include the bombers of The Silver Air Force. It's worth seeking out if it's not already on your bookshelf. It's one we recommend without reservation.

A Great Big Hog

To say that Jim Sullivan likes the Chance Vought F4U Corsair is a lot like saying that people like ice cream. A renowned author of naval aeronautica in general, Jim has made the pursuit of "The Hog", aka "Old Hose Nose", a life's work. He's a modeler as well as an author and photographer, and his display shelves sag under the weight of a substantial number of models of the Corsair. He recently took one of his earlier efforts and re-did it, and was kind enough to provide photos and a description of the adventure. We'll let him explain it to you:

Here's the Trumpeter F4U-1D kit that I had originally converted to an FG-1A. It has now been reworked as a F4U-1A in the VF-17 markings of Butch Davenport's #33 Corsair. The structural changes included the replacement of the front landing gear doors, the matching opening in the wheel wells and the replacement of the kit cowling with a corrected one from Vector and the 'wiring' of the engine. I did little to the cockpit as I had corrected it when I originally built the model. I'm pleased to add this one to my collection. Here's the story of the rebuild.

A number of years ago, probably eight or so, I purchased the 1/32nd Trumpeter F4U-1D Corsair kit. At the time I bought it I wasn't monitoring any of the modeling blogs so I had no advance idea of the built-in 'landmines' that kit contained. I went ahead with basically an OOB build except I used after-market decals. I noted the mis-shaped front landing gear doors and corresponding wheel well openings as well as the completely bogus cowl flaps---I have no idea why I didn't correct them on the original build. The other glaring error in the kit was the inclusion of a floorboard in the cockpit, since the early "U-Birds" didn't have it. Fortunately, I did deal with that by replacing the kit parts with a reasonably good resin cockpit set from True Details. As time passed, I really got tired of looking at that Corsair with the mis-shaped parts and I decided to rebuild it. I used the after-market cowling from Vector and robbed the front wheel covers from an old Revell Corsair. I corrected the wheel well openings with a little #11 surgery. I wired the engine with fine copper 'thread' and that was a pain as I couldn't dislodge the engine from the fuselage...I must have used CA glue on the original build so I had to wire it in a mounted position rather than on the modeling table where it would have far easier. After all the replacement parts had been installed, I re-shot the paint with Model Master enamel using a lightened dark sea blue (out of the bottle, it's a bit dark), the stock intermediate blue and flat white with just a tinge of gull gray added. I then clear gloss coated the areas where the decals would be applied. I went to the decals stash box for the red surround national insignia and pulled the #33 markings for VF-17 pilot, Butch Davenport's 2nd "Lonesome Polecat" which were on EagleCals decal sheet #EC32-20a. After the decals had been applied and dried thoroughly, I shot the entire plane with clear flat to blend the paint and decals. I hope you like the way she turned out.

Here's Jim's model as originally built. The markings and paintwork are accurate (and documented by photography in Jim's collection) but the basic Trumpeter kit leaves a little bit to be desired. If you happened to be a novice to Things Chance Vought you'd never know the difference, and most Trumpeter kits look pretty darned good once they're completed and sitting on the shelf, but a great many of them have what we're going to call "issues". Such is the case with their F4U.

We're big fans of the whole Reduction for Production thing, but it's not always easy to do. Re-read Jim's comments about having to re-wire that engine in situ on the completed airframe, then consider just how big a 1/32nd scale Corsair really is. The operation was no easy date, and that's for certain!

Here's a different view of Jim's "Hog" in rework. Note that he's dealing with details rather than major structure---we point this out because the whole rework thing is an extremely viable way to take an older model, correct its problems and give it a facelift, and put it on the shelf in a new guise. It's usually easier to do it that way than it is to start a brand new kit and is, in our personal experience, a lot of fun as well. We highly recommend the process.

Ready for decals and final detailing, the rework is looking good. Not every modeler is geared to stripping decals and sanding away old paintwork, but it isn't that difficult to do; neither is mild rework when it's required. Sometimes the toughest thing about this sort of project is getting the dust off the donor airframe! (And no; we're not saying this particular model was ever dusty!)

Here's what that wiring looked like while Jim was replacing it. It's always a Good Thing to have something to hold your engine with, but it gets a little more complicated when that something happens to be a 1/32nd scale Corsair! Wiring the engine while it's sitting on the completed airframe is really tough when said airframe is as big as an F4U is, but sometimes you have to deal with the cards you're dealt. We think it looks pretty good!

And the Winner is...  This is how the rework came out; pretty impressive, huh? The simple changes made by Jim during the effort moved the model from Really Good to Great, and they were accomplished with minimal effort on his part. There's been a lot of angst over on one of those internet modeling boards of late regarding the authenticity of dropped flaps on a parked Corsair (and everything up, not dropped, is how the NATOPS says to do it), but there are a whole bunch of period photos out there to show that it was often done. In point of fact, about the only time you could say it wouldn't be seen would be on an aircraft with folded wings, and even then we'd probably comment that it's best to never say never.

Here's a 3/4 front view of the "Polecat". There's absolutely no doubt in our minds that the new Tamiya "Hog", a straight-up F4U-1, will eventually be joined in their catalog by an F4U-1A and an F4U-1D. There's also no doubt in our minds that Jim's rework will be able to hold its own in that stellar company when the day finally comes.

And what some folks might call a parting shot. That Trumpeter kit has its flaws, although they're fortunately relatively minor in nature once you get past that botched cowling, and it's not what you could ever call an inexpensive purchase; the retail price alone could make it a prime candidate for rework rather than the scrap yard! This rework shows what can be accomplished with just a little bit of effort and the desire to keep an existing model. It's an avenue you might try on one of your own shelf queens---the end result is well worth the effort involved!

Many thanks to Jim Sullivan for providing both the photography and the details of this project. With any luck it will inspire you to take a look at the older models on your own shelves and breath new life into one of them. It's the sort of thing we highly recommend.

Runnin' With the Pack

Bobby Rocker has been an essential component of this project from its earliest days. His remarkable collection of Second World War photography has allowed us a window on those days that's both provocative and informative. Here's a photo to illustrate the point.

The Year is 1942, and the place is the South Pacific. The often trite and generally over-used term "in harm's way" had yet to become a part of the lexicon, but that increasingly banal phrase that's so heavily overworked by the contemporary press could easily describe this photograph. 1942 was a seminal year for the American war effort; Coral Sea, Midway, Santa Cruz, and the invasion of Guadalcanal all took place within the confines of those 365 calendar days, but so did the fall of Java and the Philippines. It was, in every sense, a critical year. In this classic photo we can get a feel for the courage of those days. The flight deck belongs to CV-6 USS Enterprise, while the lead ship is either the Yorktown or the Hornet, neither of which would survive to see the dawn of 1943. That's something to remember the next time you build a model of an airplane, or a ship, or a tank from that era. This image, and so many others we've run on this site, documents an era of courage and resolve, and in so many ways those models we love so much were paid for by the blood of our fathers and grandfathers. Let's raise a glass...   National Archives via Rocker Collection

Happy Snaps

Last time we ran a Happy Snap for you we presented a photo of an A-7 on a carrier deck. We figured it fit the criteria, even though the aircraft wasn't yet airborne, because it was shot by a naval aviator in an operational setting and because the airplane was from his air wing. We're extending that logic a little bit today and presenting yet another ground-bound image, but it's more than a little bit special. Let's take a look.

Doug Barbier is a friend, and has been for a number of years. He's an excellent modeler and writer, and a superior photographer. He's an aviator, with a number of hours under his belt hauling grandma and the kids all over the place in a 747. At one time he was also an Air Force fighter pilot of the Sierra Hotel variety. His photography, as well as other unique images from his collection, have graced these pages from time to time, as have a number of informative and generally hilarious personal reminiscences. He's one of the cadre of readers who never fails to let us know when we've been less than accurate in a photo essay or article. That's Doug standing on the far right in the photo immediately above, and it's a Sad Day for him; the picture records his last operational hop in a Michigan ANG F-16A prior to retirement from the Guard. Thanks for your service, Doug, and special thanks for all the help you've given, and continue to give, to this project.  Photograph via Doug Barbier

The Relief Tube

We only have a couple of entries for you today, so let's get going:

When we ran that "FORD" piece an issue or so back, we totally misidentified a towed target apparatus that was hanging off a port wing station. We received and printed a correction on that one almost before the electrons were dry (can that even happen?), after which we also received corrections from Tommy Thomason and Rick Morgan. Tommy sent along a couple of photos that provide a better view of what's going on here---take it away, Tommy!

Phil, it's a rig for towing a Del Mar (?) high-speed target. I don't remember what the designation was. It could be accommodated on a pylon of various aircraft. Tommy

Here's an F3H with the Del Mar target apparatus in place---note how it positions the target up and away from the airframe. This rig would make a unique addition to any scale model of an airplane that was cleared to use it but it would, to the best of our knowledge, have to be a scratch-build sort of proposition. The resin aftermarket can actually sell yet another set of Spitfire wheels or a new Me109 cockpit, but there's just not enough of a market to justify manufacturing something as esoteric as this. More's the pity!  Thomason Collection

 

And here's a slightly better shot of the Del Mar rig on an FJ-4. The pods on the inboard system are part of the apparatus, and are also visible on the F3H shot above. Those pods and uniquely-shaped towed targets make replication of the system a little more complicated that most modelers would be willing to undertake, but what a neat addition to a model. We'll add it to our bucket list.   Thomason Collection

Also, one of those F-8s we ran last time around was a little more unique than we thought and no; it's not the obvious one. Let's let Rick Morgan tell us about it.

Phil- That shot of the NATF F-8L you posted is one of those aircraft you used to dream about catching on a ramp because of its rarity. NATF had ten aircraft assigned in June 1972 to support its role developing and testing carrier launch and recovery systems (catapults and arresting gear). This included a pair of A-4Cs and single F-8L, YF-4J, F-4B, A-7A, A-6A, A-3B as well as a U-1B Otter and HH-2C. The facility now normally uses aircraft up from Pax River for work. Rick

Wow---who would've known? (Obviously not me!!!) Thanks, Morgo, and thanks to Mark Nankivil for sharing the photo with us!

One final thing; you may have noticed that we're back on an almost schedule again. We intend to stay on it too, so get ready for the boogie. Meanwhile, here's a glimpse of the sort of thing that lies in store in the months ahead:

A pair of 1st Pursuit Squadron/American Volunteer Group Curtiss Hawk 81s sit on the ramp at the RAF station near Toungoo, Burma, early in 1942. At this point in the AVG's history the mission was familiarization and training, but that would change soon enough.   Jack D. Jones

Meanwhile, that's it for this issue. We've got some interesting things planned for the near future, so stick around! Until then, be good to your neighbor. We'll meet again real soon.
phil