Stuart Slade: Winter Warriors

Circulate amongst yourselves, try to form up into groups of about six you feel happy with. No more than three officers per group. We will assign anybody who isn’t in a group after a reasonable time.”

Dedmon looked at Pico and the two men nodded. Then they looked at Martin “Want in Martin?”

“Yes, SIR!” The pleasure was immediate and obvious.

“Bob, the guy over there, Sergeant King, knew him on the C-99 runs. He’s the best mechanic I’ve ever known. Snag him?”

“Go for it.”

Pico stepped away and a few seconds later brought a well-built, even overweight, Sergeant back with him. Dedmon stuck out a hand. “Sergeant King, want to join our happy band of brothers?”

The Sergeant looked cheerful. He’d been afraid his girth would put off potential crews. “Be happy to, Sirs.”

Dedmon looked around again. Then he heard Martin’s voice behind him. “Sir, the EW officer over there, Captain Mollins, knew him on the RB-29 flights around Japan. If we need an EW man, he’s the best I saw while on the RBs.”

Dedmon acknowledged the advice. A couple of minutes later, the EW officer was part of the crew. Meanwhile, Sergeant King had seen another flight engineer, Sergeant Gordon, he’d worked with and brought him over to join the group. Dedmon looked at the six men and felt a quiet satisfaction. These were good men, he had the makings of a fine crew here. Then his eye was caught by one last man, one who seemed left out by the rapidly coalescing groups around him.

“Anybody know that one?”

His crew shook their heads. “Offer him a home?”

There was a moment of thought, then a series of nods. Dedmon went over to the man. “I’m Major Dedmon, want to join my crew? We’re over there.”

The man looked at him then broke into an open, friendly smile. “That’s right friendly of you Sir. I was feeling kind of left out here. I’m a bombardier, used to be onB-17s. If you’ll have me, I’m in. Name’s Crane. Sergeant Sammy Crane. Most people call me Argus.”

Dedmon took his group up to the front where General LeMay was speaking quietly with Colonel Lane. The other groups were still speaking and getting to know each other. “Sir, our crew is ready, there’s seven of us.”

LeMay looked at them expressionlessly. “Not going to take time to get to know each other?”

“No Sir, we’ll have time for that later. We’d just like to get started.”

“I have no cause for complaint with that. Colonel Lane, take these men into the main hangar to choose their aircraft.” LeMay turned and started inspecting a file. Dedmon got the distinct feeling he’d done the right thing at the right time.

Lane took his clipboard and noted the crew’s names and expertise. “If you gentlemen will come with me.”

The party went through the doors, down a corridor then through another door, this one guarded by two Air Force Police. Then he ushered the crew into the building beyond.

“Oh My God!” The chorus of comments was born of shock and surprise, shock at the sheer size of the hangar, stunned amazement at what it contained.

Lane looked slightly conceited. “They all say that when they come in here for the first time. That’s why we call this the Ohmygod hangar. And those eight aircraft are called B-36s. The B-36H-30-FW Peacemaker to be precise. They’re the month’s production from this particular final assembly plant. Gentlemen, as the first registered crew of this intake, you get first choice. Take your pick. That aircraft will be yours for the indefinite future.”

Dedmon looked at the aircraft, he recognized the wings as being those of the C-99 only they had jet pods mounted under the wings. Two jets per wing in addition to the six piston engines. The tail was similar to the C-99 but the fuselage was totally different. He looked underneath and saw the gaping, cavernous bomb bay. Twice, three times the size of that on a B-29? “I’d never guessed bombers like this existed.”

“Tens of thousands of people in America know these aircraft exist, the people who build them, the people who assemble them, the people who fly them. They keep their mouths shut. I’ll add something to what General LeMay said. You tell anybody about these aircraft, you’re not just committing treason. You’re breaking faith with everybody who has worked for six years to build up this force and to keep it secret. Now, which one would you like?”

The crew wandered around the eight aircraft in the hangar. Eventually, Dedmon found himself standing underneath one particular B-36. He couldn’t understand why but he felt comfortable with this particular aircraft. It didn’t make sense. They were all identical as far as he could see but this one seemed right somehow.

“What do you think guys?”

“She seems a real Lady, Bob.” The rest of the group nodded.

“Colonel, could we have this one please?”

Lane looked up and read the tail number, then noted it against the crew list. “Right Major Dedmon, she’s yours. What you going to call her?”

Dedmon looked up at the great silver bomber. “She is a real lady all right. In fact, she’s a Texan Lady.”

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