Primal Spillane: Early Stories 1941-1942

Tight Spot

Flying cadet Robert Sutter stood in line with the rest and received his day’s flight instructions. The muscles in his legs and neck were jumping with the excitement of it all, for this was his first day “upstairs.” Up till now he was grounded in school, learning the mechanics of airplanes. Now he was ready to fly! With cheeks flushed, he listened to Captain Seeley giving instructions.

“These are your orders,” Seeley said. “Each training ship will cruise over the circle marked on your maps. Students will obey the instructors to the letter. Make three circles, then release the controls to the officer with you. He will land the plane. All right, men, hop to it!”

Student pilots scrambled madly to their places, eager to be off. At each plane a grease monkey inserted the crank handle, wound the inertia starter, and with a flick of the switch by the pilot, the motors roared into life.

One by one, the yellow training ships taxied slowly down the runway. Then they turned and faced the wind. The motor was “given the gun.” Tails came up and the planes posed for a brief second — then shot down the “apron.”

Like a flock of ducks, they rose high into the blue sky. Each plane was designated to fly over a different area, so when a certain altitude was reached, the ships branched out in a giant fan heading for their own spots. Sutter traced his course with a finger then set the plane on it. Wind swished into the cockpit and blew against his face.

“Ahh!” he said, to nobody in particular. “This is the life!”

After ten minutes of straight flying, the instructor turned in his seat and signaled with his hand. “Right bank” was what it meant. Bobby Sutter touched right rudder and stick, and the plane wheeled in a long, slow turn. Next was a left turn. The cadet went through the maneuvers flawlessly. Never, even for a second, did he falter, or freeze to the stick. In ground school, he had learned his lessons well.

The instructor waved again, and Bobby put the ship through the few tricks he had learned. Long, sweeping figure eights, a stall, and a spin. In the front cockpit the instructor smiled to himself. He rarely got anyone who could handle a ship so smoothly the first time out. Usually the excitement got the better of the cadets and they forced every movement. Several times the kids froze the controls... held them in fists that were tightened by fear. Long ago he had given up the practice of cocking the student with a fire extinguisher. Now, he kept a full seltzer bottle beside him and one shot of water in the face would thaw out anybody. But this was not necessary now!

Bobby looked at his watch. A half-hour had passed since he took off, minutes that flew like seconds. He leaned over and slapped the top of the fuselage to attract the attention of the officer in front. The instructor turned around, saw what Sutter meant and checked with his own watch. His lips moved. “O.K., you did fine!” He gestured with his mouth.

Well pleased at his performance, Bobby banked and headed back for the field. He saw that other planes were coming in, and he cast a look around to see that his particular section of the sky was clear. Then his heart stood still! Coming at them under full “gun” was another training plane! Bobby could see the mask of fear over the student pilot’s face who had frozen solidly to the controls. He reached for the stick and shoved it down. But at that moment the other ship passed overhead. The instructor in front of Bobby looked up, about to yell, when the wheel of the wild plane hit him a blow in the head!

A freak accident! The chances were one in a million that it would ever happen again, yet the once it did, it had to happen to him. The other plane straightened out, once again, with the instructor at the controls. But, in the front seat of his own plane, Bobby could see only the slumped-over form! He could not tell how seriously the man was hurt. If it was bad he’d have to get to a doctor at once... but how? He had never landed a plane before!

Of all the maneuvers, this was perhaps the most difficult for the student. He had learned how to make a landing in the ground school, but only on paper! Now he was here, alone, his first time in the air, and with a problem facing him that loomed as large as the Empire State building. It was surprising, he thought, how much confidence one had when someone else was in the plane. He never felt more alone in his whole life, than he did at this moment.

He shot a glance at his gas gauge. There was enough fuel left for another hour’s flight. But, he could not remain aloft! The man in the front seat needed attention badly. If he circled about until he ran out of gas his instructor might die! He had to land sometime, so the sooner the better! Bobby shoved his head over the side. On the field the planes were lined up neatly. A knot of men gathered around one fellow. That probably was the cadet who froze his controls.

Then someone pointed up to his plane. The rest glanced up queerly, but evidently thought that the instructor wanted to give the student a little more training. Bobby scanned the skies. Spotted around were a few dozen planes. If they were to follow him in, there would be no telling what might happen. If he got rattled at all, it might mean a ground loop. The officers had shown them vivid examples of crates that cracked up coming in. And now Bobby wished desperately that he had listened more closely how to avoid such things.

Hoping that the instructor might revive, Sutter leaned forward. The man was still bent over, but now a faint trickle of blood seeped out from under his helmet. Luckily, his body did not interfere with the controls. Bobby was frantic. He looked down again. Still no one noticed anything wrong.

Then he got it. Knowing that no instructor would attempt acrobatics with a new student, he sent the ship up. At two thousand feet he leveled off, held his breath, then pulled the stick back into his stomach. The ground and the sky got all mixed up. Everything whirled around dizzily. With a silent prayer that he was right side up, the cadet centered the controls. He let out a deep sigh of relief. The ground was beneath him!

Again he looked over. They noticed him now, all right! Captain Seeley guessed at once what was wrong, and asked all the others whether or not theirs was the plane in the near crash. Nobody answered, so it must be the one “upstairs!” Quickly, the call went out. Fire trucks and an ambulance dashed from the hangers below. Not a very comforting thought, to have a “meat wagon” waiting for you to land! It took a few minutes for Bobby to get his courage up, but thinking of the officer in the front, and the code of the airmen, he knew he had to do it. He might have taken the coward’s way out, and flown to a higher altitude and jumped, but when he saw the men running around below, he knew at once that they didn’t believe him to be afraid. They had more confidence in his courage than he had himself!

Steeling himself for the strain to come, Bobby cut the gun and came in. He lost altitude too fast, and he saw Seeley frantically waving him back up. He shoved the throttle forward and hauled gently on the stick. The prop caught, and the plane skimmed the end of the field reaching for height. Bobby muttered to himself. “If I expect to land this crate, I’m gonna have to get some practice first! Hold tight, down there!”

Once more he started down. This time he cut the gun but slightly, and measured his distance as he went in. Not knowing what he was doing, Seeley waved a red flag. “Up!” he motioned in the ground man’s signals. Bobby let the wheels touch, power still on, then he fed it more gas, and went back on the stick. Gracefully, the plane rose over the other end of the apron.

Now those on the ground saw his plan. Every one of them had fingers crossed, wishing him all the luck they could. Captain Seeley had worry lines on his face, for the unconscious instructor had been his friend. The training ship circled sharply.

“One more practice shot and I’ll come in!”

Bobby said to the skies. All eyes were on the flash of yellow coming in under power.

Heads were hanging out of the control room window, while mechanics and pilots streamed onto the field. Everyone in the locality was present. The firemen had their hoses out, and the doctors were ready with their kits. This had to be good, for two lives were at stake!

Bobby came in slowly, feeding the motor just enough gas to keep the plane up. At the far end, he swooped over, touched the wheels, ran along a few yards and shot skyward. Now, the time had come! This would be no practice attempt. He would come in under power, throttle down until he lost flying speed, touch his wheels and guide her in. That was all, but it was the biggest job in the world at present!

With his upper lip clenched between his teeth, Bobby Sutter banked. He circled again until he was running upwind on the apron. Five hundred, two hundred, one, then fifty feet above the ground. The white concrete runway was coming up fast. He pushed the stick slightly forward and cut the gun a little more... then, slowly, like a great bird, the plane began to settle. The beginning of the apron flashed under him, and a moment later he felt his wheels touch.

He bounced up! But he let her down gently and threw off the switch. He was rolling fast now. The stick came back, the tailskid dug in, and the ship slowed down. Bobby let his breath out all at once. Sweat poured from his face.

IN an instant the plane was surrounded by the mob. They removed the instructor, and when it was found that he was only knocked out, and had suffered a slight scalp wound, a tremendous yell went up. The mob hoisted Bobby from the cockpit and paraded him around on their shoulders. This was his day. But had they known it, Bobby would have preferred to be standing with them — not riding on their shoulders... for nothing seemed sweeter right now, than to have his two feet settin’ on the good old solid ground!