November, 1942
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Barracks at Cap de la Madeleine
The village of Cap de la Madeleine was totally French-Canadian and in 1942 the business community was not too enamoured with trainees from the rest of Canada. If you asked a cab driver for directions in English he let on he could not understand you, however, if a tip was offered he caught on fast enough. Most of the girls in town did not speak English with the result being that most of our social activities were confined to the base with movies, dances, and vaudeville shows being sponsored by the Sally Ann or the Canadian Legion.
One morning I was late getting up and had to skip breakfast because of an early morning training exercise. Unfortunately I was supposed to spend an hour doing aerobatics, and after the first couple of loops and slow rolls my previous might's dinner, or what was left of it, ended up in my lap. As the temperature was about -20C you cam imagine what I looked like when I landed. That was the last time I skipped breakfast.
Like most Elementary Flying Schools the Cap was run by civilians for the R.C.A.F. Our first two weeks were spent in ground school with the emphasis being aircraft maintenance and navigation. I guess they were concerned we might get lost and lose one of their Fleet Finch's, the single-engine open cockpit aircraft which was our training airplane. When we finally were told to report to the flight shack we were ecstatic. There were six flying instructors and our class of about 27 students were assigned in groups of 4 or 5 to each instructor.
After an initial familiarization flight, our flying routine consisted of lessons in all the basic maneuvers with the emphasis being on takeoffs and landings - we called them circuits and bumps. My own major problem was that the other four guys with my instructor had all ready soloed, while I only had about 7 hours of flying time and they had at least twice that. One morning while at ground-school a call came through from the chief instructor for me to get down there right away. At that time I thought this was the end of the line, however, all he told me to do was to "grab a chute and get in the plane parked in front".
After I did one circuit he climbed out and said "its all yours". Boy was I nervous. Fortunately, the plane was equipped with skis and it was pretty easy to land on the snow covered field. After the first landing I taxied back to the flight shack where the instructor congratulated me and then waved me off again for an hours solo practice. That night in the mess hall the rest of the gang toasted me as the last student to solo, even though I had the fewest hours.
One morning I was late getting up and had to skip breakfast because of an early morning training exercise. Unfortunately I was supposed to spend an hour doing aerobatics, and after the first couple of loops and slow rolls my previous might's dinner, or what was left of it, ended up in my lap. As the temperature was about -20C you cam imagine what I looked like when I landed. That was the last time I skipped breakfast.
Like most Elementary Flying Schools the Cap was run by civilians for the R.C.A.F. Our first two weeks were spent in ground school with the emphasis being aircraft maintenance and navigation. I guess they were concerned we might get lost and lose one of their Fleet Finch's, the single-engine open cockpit aircraft which was our training airplane. When we finally were told to report to the flight shack we were ecstatic. There were six flying instructors and our class of about 27 students were assigned in groups of 4 or 5 to each instructor.
After an initial familiarization flight, our flying routine consisted of lessons in all the basic maneuvers with the emphasis being on takeoffs and landings - we called them circuits and bumps. My own major problem was that the other four guys with my instructor had all ready soloed, while I only had about 7 hours of flying time and they had at least twice that. One morning while at ground-school a call came through from the chief instructor for me to get down there right away. At that time I thought this was the end of the line, however, all he told me to do was to "grab a chute and get in the plane parked in front".
After I did one circuit he climbed out and said "its all yours". Boy was I nervous. Fortunately, the plane was equipped with skis and it was pretty easy to land on the snow covered field. After the first landing I taxied back to the flight shack where the instructor congratulated me and then waved me off again for an hours solo practice. That night in the mess hall the rest of the gang toasted me as the last student to solo, even though I had the fewest hours.
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Fleet Finch at #11 EFTS
Solo aerobatics were my favourites, while I did not care for the routine instruction which required a high degree of accuracy such as steep turns or slow rolls where you had to maintain an exact height before and after the specific exercise. After my initial instructor problems I was assigned to another one and one of his favorite tricks was to take me on a very low level ride over farmer's fields and down R.R. lines to get me thoroughly lost and then he would pull out the joy stick and throw it over the side and tell me to take him home. Fortunately I was pretty good at this, especially after the first time when we had to land at a strange airport to refuel. One day he took us up the St. Lawrence to the high hills where they have great ski country and because our hands were a little chilly he landed in a friend's field and we went in and had coffee and Christmas cake. I think the main reason he landed was to visit his friend's sister, but who was I to argue over hot coffee in twenty below weather.