Warbird Information Exchange

I think viewers of WIX might appreciate this little story. My Dad was an aviation cadet at Pampa Army Air Field, Texas in mid- to late 1945 training in AT-9s, AT-10s and B-25s, destined for combat in bombers (see also WIX topic "AT-10 Wichita Twin Engine Trainers"). The war ended before he completed training and he was discharged from the service but later recalled for the Korean war, but that is another story.

Condtions for cadets at Pampa were apparently rather primitive. One very cold north Texas night, everyone in my Dad's barrack was suffering from a lack of adequate heating and sufficient food, so my Dad took it upon himself to raid the mess hall kitchen, steal some unbaked rolls or buns, then going outside to the flight line and having the temerity to stick those packages of rolls up against the exhaust manifolds of the No. 1 engine of a B-25, fired the engine up and baked those things into some nice, hot buns for the other cadets in his barrack. Realize, my Dad was just a cadet with no rank. He was thereafter known about the field as "Hot Buns." No hint of retribution was ever heard from command; however, my future Mom was not at all pleased with that moniker.

I have a couple of other entertaining stories of Pampa from my Dad; does anybody else have any from this now totally defunct, but very important airfield from WWII?

Best,
octane130

that is a pretty cool story, what else did your Dad do and get away with

_________________
Kind Regards,
Gary Lewis
J.A.F.O.

Octane,

I've done a bit of research on Pampa. I'm on my way out of the house right now, but when I get some time I'll be in touch. One bit of trivia: Coach Tom Landry did his multi-engine advanced training at Pampa two years before your dad was there.

About all that remains of Pampa AAF today is a hangar, some foundations, and the parking apron, being used as part of a large dairy operation. The runways have all been removed.

You mentioned the AT-9s earlier--did your dad ever say if the cadets were allowed to fly the Jeep solo? At some point in '43 Base policy was that only students with an instructor were allowed to fly the AT-9 due to its demanding nature. I'm wondering if they ever relaxed that restriction.

Scott

Heck, I've heard a zillion stories about Pampa. Most of them have to do with flat of one sort or another. Your story is funnier. My father-in-law (and mother-in law and in a round about way my wife) is from there.

Except when your dad was there, dad-in-law was recuperating from Iwo-Jima, LVTA-4 commander.

My uncle trained at Pampa as well. He was from West Texas so it felt like home...without the good food of course.

_________________
Zane Adams
There I was at 20,000 ft, upside down and out of ammunition.
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Here is another cute story from my Dad's time at Pampa Army Air Field as an aviation cadet. It is actually another "Hot Buns" story but it wasn't my Dad that was the direct subject this time; read on .

Pampa had a very popular African-American cook in the mess hall that loved to hitch joy rides in the aircraft whenever he could. On one of my Dad's training flights in a B-25, the nose gear would not extend when it was time to land. In order to help keep the nose of the aircraft off the runway for as long as possible, the instructor pilot ordered everyone on board to get back as far as possible into the tail of the aircraft, including my Dad and the cook.

My Dad was so skinny that he was one of the few people that could actually crawl from the cockpit, over the top of the bomb bay and back into the rear fuselage. This space was definitely not intended by the manufacturer for human passage. Those of you familiar with the B-25 will know what I am talking about. My Dad quickly crawled back from the right cockpit seat and into the rear fuselage with everyone else.

Upon touchdown, the pilot hauled back on the control column so hard that he dragged the tail skid on the runway for quite a distance. The cook was pinned back in the tail underneath at least my Dad and apparently a couple of other people. Unfortunately for the cook, his butt was pressed right on the bolt that attached the tail skid to the fuselage. The resulting friction-generated heat roasted this poor fellow's posterior to the point that he actually had to spend some time in the base hospital. The crew visited him there and, as usual, he was in high spirits, ready to hitch more joy rides as soon as he could------Hot Buns No. 2, ha! .

Best,
- octane130 -