Out of the Dark

Flight surgeons watch and worry over pilots like mechanics prowling over planes. They welcome any chance to see into the dark corners of the mind of a pilot in trouble. Such a chance came when a South Pacific airman, safe after a rugged ride, sat down and put his psychological experiences on paper.

He had been ordered to lead his fighters to cover dive-bombers and torpedo planes making a strike on a small Jap task force. When he got into the air, he found his instruments were quirky, but he decided to go on. The task force was spotted, then Jap planes appeared:

"Several Japs turned into me as I started runs on them. . . . I was surprised that I did not have any particular feeling when one of them burst into flames in front of me. I would just start looking for another.

"After the scrap I very stupidly hung around for ten minutes or so, trying to determine the damage to the ships. It was not until I started back alone that I really appreciated the fix I was in. I did not even have a watch. . . . I could hear other pilots calling for the field . . . but I could not get anyone to answer me. . . ."

"I Couldn't. . . ." "Several times I tried to let down and fly contact close to the water . . . but I couldn't put the nose down--as soon as I would start down, I would unconsciously start pulling back on the stick again and go back up.

"I was really sweating and talking to myself. . . . I don't know whether anger or fear was dominant. . . . I really did not expect to get back to the field. . . . Damn it, I started this whole screwy report to try and give you a picture of a pilot's thoughts and feelings under what I consider the most terrifying of conditions and I can't seem to be able to do so.

"I recall my mind was working hard enough, but I had a difficult time concentrating. It seemed that my mind had two jobs. I was trying to fly the plane, and at the same time I was trying to reassure myself . . . trying to convince myself that I did have a chance, and then telling myself it didn't make any difference anyway. . . . The idea of impending death did not bother me . . . the fear I felt seemed to be from another source."

"I Should Have Been Elated." "After an indefinable time I saw a faint light. . . . I turned toward it, then away again, as I decided it was a star. . . . Finally I said, 'What the hell,' and started flying toward it. After what must have been 15 minutes, I determined that it was two searchlights weaving back and forth--The Field! I should have been elated, I guess, but by this time I must have been too beaten out. I was just sort of relieved.

"Flying toward the lights, I suffered the worst vertigo I have ever experienced. . . . After landing, I bawled hell out of the mech in a loud voice even after he told me it wasn't his plane. Upon entering Operations, I pointed my finger at Colonel Blank, and told him I flew back alone with no instruments and never should have arrived by the books. . . . I sure was mad and I felt as though I had to tell somebody. I had a hard time keeping myself from talking long and loud. After I gave my report to Intelligence, I had a good stiff drink and went to bed. . . . I was surprised to get a good night's sleep."

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