By Al Bates
Late in 1942, a small group of young American men dressed in khaki could be seen practicing their marching skills on the streets of the small rural community of Prescott, Arizona. On closer look, their garb was far from uniform. While all wore khaki shirts and pants, some wore web belts round their waists while others wore belts of leather. Some wore black shoes while others wore brown. They were all bareheaded, and only a few wore any insignia. Who were these 28 young men and what were they doing in the mountains of central Arizona far from any military base in the first year of America's participation in World War II?
The answer is that they were US Navy flight cadets enlisted in a unique training program designed to solve a vexing problem. This was the first group of young men selected for the Navy's V5 Aviator Training Program. Prescott was one of three sites in Arizona used for this training. The other cadet training flights were located at Arizona State Teachers College at Tempe and at Phoenix Junior College.
The American armed forces had a serious problem. The industrial might of America was beginning to provide all the materials necessary to fight a multi-front war. Tanks and ships and planes were rolling off assembly lines in ever increasing numbers but there was a lack of trained men to operate them. The rapidly expanding pilot training programs were producing disappointing results because of unacceptable attrition rates. Sadly, despite rigorous physical testing, many of the young men accepted for flight training lacked the innate skills to become military pilots and for some of them, and their instructors, the discovery was a fatal one.
A better way was needed to weed out the unsuited without the loss of life and expensive military equipment. Thus was born the Navy V5 Civilian Pilot Training program. The reasoning went, if we require our fledgling pilots to first acquire private pilot licenses by training in lightweight civilian planes they will know enough of the basics to be better able to absorb the intense training required to fly high-performance military aircraft.
Recruiters fanned out over the western states looking for young men for the 13-week program. The men they signed up were typically 20 years old, two years out of high school, and working or going to college while waiting for the draft to call. It was an easy sell. Being up in the clouds as a pilot looked to many to be much better than slogging thru mud or dust as an infantryman.
Bill Travis was one of only four Arizonans in the first group to train at Prescott; the rest were from Southern California. Travis was working at the Prescott Post Office when the recruiters arrived in mid-1942. A train trip to California for physical testing was followed by a month's wait for assignment to a training group. In September 1942, the notice came to report to a location just a few blocks south of his boyhood home.
The cadets were required to buy their own "uniforms" of khaki shirts and pants and leather flight jackets. J. C. Penny Co. was suggested as a suitable source for the clothes. There was no further description of suitable clothing for the cadets.
As the only local recruit, Travis felt himself a bit of an outsider, and sensed resentment because he was less than enthusiastic about introducing his classmates to the local young women. His help wasn't all that necessary as the area's supply of young men was already depleted and a number of young ladies were on the lookout for male escorts. Two of the Californians returned to Prescott after the war and married local girls.
The flight was housed and fed in an abandoned tuberculosis sanatorium located an easy walk from the pleasures of Prescott's famed "Whiskey Row." Since none of the young men had cars this was a favorable situation. Besides, the bartenders weren't picky about age for someone in "uniform." Living quarters at the clapboard sided St. Luke's Sanatorium were Spartan and included sleeping on screen porches equipped with canvas roll-down blinds to keep out the worst of the weather. Strict military rules were established, and passes were required to go to town, but as at any other military installation located near entertainment the rules often were treated as challenges to be overcome.
Flight instruction was held at Love Field north of Prescott. Ground school instruction was held at the old sanatorium and at Love Field. All of the flight instructors were civilians, mostly too old for military service. The administration and most of the ground school instructors were recruited from Glendale California Junior College. Only the radio instructor was recruited locally. Prescott appliance-store owner A. D. Fee, a former Navy radioman, instructed the cadets in the mysteries of Morse code, a skill many never grew comfortable with. Travis admits that he became much happier when voice radio gear became standard.
The flight training were in Piper Cubs and Luscombe lightweight, high wing, fixed landing-gear aircraft. The Luscombe was preferred by some of the cadets because, unlike the fabric covered Cubs, its body and wings were metal covered and it also had a larger engine. To their disappointment, the bigger engine gave it no better performance than the Cub because of its additional weight.
The program's safety rate was outstanding. There were no fatalities in its two years of operation in Prescott. The only remembered crash came when an overly aggressive cadet on a solo flight decided to chase a herd of antelope over the grasslands of Lonesome Valley north and east of Prescott. His was neither the first nor last episode of antelope harassment, and he walked away from the crash. Boys would be boys, and Travis admits to later flying under both the Golden Gate and Oakland Bay bridges on the same foggy day shortly after qualifying for carrier duty.
The program continued for two years. Later cadet classes included fledgling Army Air Corps pilots and glider pilots for the invasion of Europe. After earning private pilots' wings at Prescott the Cadets moved on to advanced training and commissioning. Travis served carrier duty in the Pacific, flying torpedo bombers to the end of the war. He returned to Prescott; married his high school sweetheart; returned to the Post Office; and has lived for almost 60 years in a house within a half-mile of where he lived and trained as a Cadet. Surviving members of Prescott's first V5 class have kept in contact through the years. Twelve of them showed up for a 50th anniversary gathering in 1992, and there are hopes to repeat the event in 2002.
Al Bates is a Researcher and frequent contributor to Days Past.