 Proudly, we hail. From New York City, where the American stage begins, here is another program with a cast of outstanding players. Public service time has been made available by this station for your Army and your Air Force to bring you this story. As proudly we hail those who help keep America safe. The Ground Warning Service. Our story is entitled, Practice Area. Salute to the unseen watchers who guard against aggression from the sky. Our first act curtain will rise in a moment, but first, here's an important word today about your tomorrow. There's a future in flight. Yes, for you young men between the ages of 19 and 26 and a half, who have completed two or more years of college and are otherwise qualified, there's an excellent opportunity for a great career in your expanding Air Force. You can secure an important job as a pilot, navigator, radar observer or flight engineer, and fly the mighty aircraft of this jet age. Remember, there's a future in flight. Visit your United States Army and United States Air Force Recruiting Station for details today. This is a story about security. Your security. To start, we must travel to a small jutting section of our sweeping coastline. Here, a year ago, there was nothing but a wild and lonely expanse of sand and sea, where gulls circled and complained over the unyielding surf. Today, it's still lonely, still wild, and neither the gulls or the surf have changed their tone or habits. But something new has been added. We'll call it the installation. It consists of a solid cluster of buildings, some of which are decked with grotesque and unnatural-looking headpieces. Great rectangular nets of metal, they slowly and patiently fish the air, searching, searching. They're called radar antennas, and they cast an invisible beam through 100 miles or even more of space. The installation is one of many in the outermost ring of our air defense, on constant guard along the strategic approaches to our country. Hey Ted, I've picked up and I'm identified. He's not on a regular course either. Okay, give the Civil Aeronautics Authority a buzz, see if they got him scheduled. I'll call Captain Horn. Give me CAA at Bakertown. Right. Hello, this is ground control intercept at Seaview. We've picked up and I'm identified. He's now heading at 220 degrees at 40,000 feet, 150 miles offshore. He's doing about 400. Do you have anything on him? That's right. Wait a minute. It's changing course at 225. Okay, thanks. Bye. What about it, Sergeant? Notified division ADDC. Bakertown doesn't have him scheduled. That's how it starts. A radar control operator has picked up on his screen the electronic spore of an unidentified plane. The word has flashed to the Central Control Center in that area, which in turn calls up the fighters. Sounds simple, doesn't it? But unfortunately it's not that simple, because of the irrefutable fact which Columbus proved nearly five centuries ago. The Earth is round. And because radar beams are unable to curve with the Earth's surface, there are gaps in its protective blanket through which a low-flying plane might pass without detection. How to remedy the fact? We'll find the answer two years back in time. The gentleman Colonel Wright will explain the situation. Thank you, sir. As the general has pointed out, we plan to recruit and train civilians for this program. We're going to try and get a half million volunteers. It'll be called the Aircraft Warning Service, and we'll run it on pretty much the same lines the English ran their setup during the war. The volunteers will be organized in two classifications, won't they, Colonel? That's correct, sir. The first group will consist of ground observers and man-lookout posts. The posts will be placed eight miles apart. The second group will staff filter centers. There'll be one center for every 300 outposts. In other words, we'll have the gaps in the screen pretty well saturated. Oh, yes, Major? Uh, suppose I am manning one of these outposts at night and I hear a plane passing. What's the procedure? I was coming to that. If you're an observer on duty, you call in on all low-flying planes, whether you see or just hear them. As each report comes into the filter center, it's marked on a board. When three sightings of the same plane from three different outposts have been tracked, the report is considered positive and the information is turned over to GCI Station. You think untrained civilian volunteers will be able to handle such an important job? After they've been trained in aircraft identification and how to operate the filter centers, I have to see why not. After all, Major, the civilian population is just as interested in this business of defense as we are. And so, two years ago, the ground control intercept came into being. As the general said, defense is everybody's job, or at least everybody who gives it a thought. Bill? Hmm? Bill, will you come off and behind that paper? Hmm? Oh, wait a minute. What's the four-letter word that means impolite? B-I-L-L. Hmm? Okay, you win. That's on your beautiful mind. Well, I was talking to Rita today and she wants to go down to the local Civil Defense Center to join the Ground Observer Corps. The what? You know, airplane spotters and that sort of thing. Honey, why not leave that sort of business to the guys who know about it? That shows how much you know about it. They're asking for volunteers. The Air Force is starting a training program, and I, uh... I thought maybe you'd join with me. Now, where would I get the time to sit around on a hilltop looking for aeroplanes? Well, the classes are only one night a week. What night? Wednesday. My bowling night. Bill, I don't care what you say. I think this is a little more important than your bowling. Well... Well, I guess I can't argue with you there. But why has it got to be Wednesday night? And besides, so you know perfectly well, I'm too busy at the office to be... Now, Rita says it's only a periodic thing. You don't have to do it constantly. Every once in a while, they have a training drill arranged through the local Civil Defense Center. Oh, Bill, come on. You can spare that much time, and we should do something to help. I don't know why you always have to make so much sense. It might be kind of fun at that. Interesting. We'll go to the class Wednesday and see what it's all about. Well, it doesn't take long to find out what it's all about. And it doesn't take long to learn what you have to know to help out. Then one day you have an opportunity to put this newfound knowledge to work. Hi, Jim. How's it going? Nothing so far, Bill. A lousy data stage at drill. Well, the weather can't always be good. If I were going to attack anyone, I think I'd pick a day like this. Yeah, I know. Clouds get much lower, we'll be in them. Yeah, it's quite a view, no matter what the weather's like. Probably see about 50 miles on a clear day. Now, these binoculars, I bet I can see almost that now. Amen to them. Hey, what's the matter? Playing over that ridge to the left. Going like the wind. Make out what he is? Yeah, look, there's another one behind it. I'm going to make a phone call. They're attack bombers, B-26s. Hello, this is Fox at post-89. We've just spotted two... Man, maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe. That's three. No, no, no, four. That's four B-26 type bombers. They're very low heading east towards Stanton. They're very low, they're heading east. A man named Bill gave up his Wednesday night bowling to spend some time on a somewhat more vital job. A month ago, he didn't know one aircraft from another. Today, on a commanding hilltop, his alertness and training has paid off. Enemy attack bombers trying to sneak through. Enemy attack bombers spotted, and the information quickly relayed to the filter center. The filter center. A high ceiling room on the floor of which rests a large rectangular table. Covering the table, a checkered map of the area. And around the table, there are men and women who are called filters. Each wears a headphone with an attached mouthpiece. Each wears an apron with a pocket at the chest filled with white slips of paper. To watch them, without understanding their purpose, you might get the idea they were playing some kind of a strange chess-like game, for they keep putting and moving paper tabs across the map. Flash, now post-89. Four B-26 bombers in sector six heading east towards Stanton. Positive, that's the third flash. Notified GCI. At one end of the filter room, an elevated platform, looking down on the entire operation, set the Air Force directors. From their vantage point, they coordinate and pass on findings received from the outlying spotter posts. Once the calls start coming in, it's not long before a definite pattern begins to form. And as more and more white tabs are placed on the board, the picture becomes clear. Flash from outpost 83, one unidentified, sector three heading east towards Stanton. Market positive. That's a total of 24 attacking planes all approaching Stanton. You're doing a good job, Mrs. Peters. You cut on it, but very nicely. Thank you. Flash from outpost 76, one unidentified, believe it's a pocket fire. You're doing a good job, Mrs. Peters. Yes, you bet you are. And an important one, too. In the 2026 sector, unidentified, for just so many words that had no place in your life. Now they use in a new fast-moving language that sounds like so much Greek to be uninitiated. Could civilians handle a job the major wanted to know? Ask him that now, and he'd answer yes quick enough. For men and women like the Peters from every walk and strata of our population have given him that answer. All right. We've seen how our radar network records how it reaches out through space and accurately detects whatever moves within its range. We've seen, too, how aircraft spotters and filter centers, manned for the most part by civilian volunteers fit into this vast complex problem. Now it's time to examine in what manner unfriendly planes would be met and destroyed. This is the new all-weather interceptor. She's a big improvement over anything else. What's her maximum altitude? The figures are right here. We know there isn't a bomber built that can fly any higher. How soon till they're coming out at mass? Well, they began coming off the production line last month. I'm with rockets now. That's right. They're 2.75 caliber. As you know, there are a number of other types of all-weather interceptors in production now, but this is the newest and so far the best. Won't be long before we start building him, so all the pilot has to do is go along for the ride. Anything out of the sky at any altitude, I'll be happy. That's been my pet worry. What could your radar or your defense system if they can send in bombers that an interceptor can't reach? The guided missile boys are the ones who'll really solve that problem. I understand they're developing rockets to knock out bombers no matter how high they fly. That's fine, but in the meantime, while we're waiting for them to get their rockets perfected, I'll settle for a jet that can get up there and do the job. Well, then as you say, you can stop worrying this is the baby that can do it. So you've got the jet that will take over and get rid of unwanted intruders. What's left? The big question of method. Tactics. You can't forget that a big bomber is a flying red knot. She goes armed to the teeth and ready for trouble. Here's the way one instructor explained the problem. All right, sergeant. Start the film. Now, this film consists of footage taken from cameras placed in the guns of 10 different bombers. Now, watch these fighters coming in on a beam attack. Captain Phillips, what's it look like to you? Murder. A bomber would have blasted all four of them out of the sky. All right. Now, here's an attack seen from the belly guns of another plane. How about that, Lieutenant Rogers? Same thing, only worse. Now, watch this pass from 12 o'clock. You can imagine what a hail of 20-millimeter shells would have done to them. No case, sergeant. That's enough for now. We'll go over the whole film later, but what it adds up to is this. The jet bomber is a far more deadly adversary than the conventional type you men got used to attacking during the late unpleasantness. Then you could maneuver around a bomber at will. Now, you can. Because with their increased firepower and speed, you'd be a dead duck in short order. Okay, but what's the answer? A new method of attack has been devised. Now, all is. We've reached this conclusion. A jet fighter can only make one all out pass at a jet bomber. Take a look at this diagram. Here's your bomber. Here's your jet coming up on what we call a collision course. In other words, if the jet kept on this course, he'd hit the bomber. At 1,000 yards from the bomber, he'll launch his radar aimed rockets, then peel off like this at that angle of attack the same every time. Approximately, yes. Films have proven conclusively if an interceptor makes his pass coming up from below, aiming just ahead of the tail and about 10 degrees to the side, he'll avoid the bomber's tail guns. It's the most vulnerable point of attack in this particular kind of setup. When do we get a chance to try it out? Plans have been made to stage a drill on Friday. 20 B-36s will attempt to bomb... You've got your radar defences, your filter centers, your lookout posts. You've got methods and tactics changed and perfected to meet the most advanced aerial demands. You have a system that is beautifully coordinated. Now it's time to find out how the combination works. From the cockpit eye view of an all-weather jet fighter. You are listening to the proudly-we-hail production Practice Area. We'll return in just a moment for the second act. In 1917, our Air Force consisted of a half-dozen flying flippers attached to the aviation section of the Signal Corps. But in less than 35 years, these wood slats and canvas-covered planes have become mighty intercontinental bombers and flashing jet fighters. And our Air Force has developed into the most powerful in the world. If you can qualify, your Air Force needs you. You're needed to fly one of its new, advanced aircraft. And the best way for you to help your country is to enroll in the United States Air Force Aviation Cadet Program. If you're between 19 and 26 and a half, with at least two years of college and are otherwise qualified, you can take aviation cadet training. Yes, there's a job for you in Air Force Blue, whether you fly vital transport ships or the speedy jets. For full information, visit your United States Army and United States Air Force Recruiting Station or nearest Air Force Base back to Aviation Cadet Branch, Headquarters, United States Air Force, Washington 25 D.C. You are listening to Proudly We Hail and now we present the second act of Practice Area. The Air Force Base is not far from a sprawling seaboard metropolis. One of many that unobtrusively checker the land from Maine to Florida. Had you come out to the field that particular night, he might have had a difficult time finding it. But the entire area lay thickly locked in an impenetrable sagasso of fog. But if you had looked into one of the ready shacks down in the field, you'd have seen within two men dressed for high altitude flying, G-Suit, Maywest, and all the rest. Hey, what a play gave a gin. Oh, didn't you see how I'm improving my mind? Oh, you got a lot to work on. What's the name, then? Death Strikes Out and Don't Interrupt Me. It's very exciting. What do you want about the guy who went around slugging all his friends with a baseball bat? Hank, shut up. Oh, Cole, you want to know how it ends? You want to really know who did it? Don't you tell me, you buzzard. Play me a game of gin and I'll forget who it was. Blackmail, why are you... You know what I'm going to do next time we get 40,000 feet up? I'm going to bail out and leave you up there. Oh, fine. I don't know what you come along for. Anyway, I have to tell you how to fly the thing. Oh, you are the prime exhibit and the best definition of dead weight that has ever been my... Cole and Hank, pilot and radar operator. The two-man crew of an F-94 equipped to hunt down and destroy enemy attackers in any weather at any time or at any altitude. Cole and Hank, a highly trained two-man team who sit around ribbing each other in the wee hours of a fog-blanketed night waiting for the telephone to jangle. For in the fight a wing of an all-weather squadron, there's never a time when several of its teams aren't ready to hit the blue at a moment's notice. Why don't you put in for a transfer to Cookson Baker School? I'm sure you'd find it... Ah. Got maddened. Scramble buckshot 2-4. Vector 0-5-0. Angels 3-8. Call sure thing on Able. Roger. We got a job. Let's go. What's the pitch? What's the pitch? Why did those few words send them running into the night to their fog-shouted plane? What did the words mean, anyway? Buckshot. The codename for the squadron. 24. Cole's number. Vector 0-5-0. Climb on a heading of 50 degrees to Angels 3-8 or 3-8,000 feet. Then call the operator whose codename is sure thing on Channel A. But again, why? Well, to find the answer, we must find the third man on Cole and Hank's team. He's a man who sits in a dark and windowless underground room. Officially, the place is called Air Defense Direction Center, or more easily, ADDC. Sure thing spends most of his time staring at a dimly-lighted radar oscilloscope. It looks a lot like a television screen, showing a relief map in black and white. Sure thing sits before it, watching the movement of little white dots or blips. Each dot is a plane. Those that are identified are not sure things concern. But let him pick up a strange blip, one without proper identification, and he goes into action. Hey, Lieutenant, I picked up a bogey. All right, let's notify all duty teams that aren't short and all this alert. Let's have a look. He's on a heading of 2-5-0 degrees on his feet. I'll have him pinned down in a second. Track him, and when you've got him, what you want him, sing out. And when you sing out, it's Cole and Hank who dance to the music. You all shut back there? Let's go, mother. Cole, with the aid of brilliant runway lights, taxis his ship hardly to the takeoff point. Swings her around and gets ready to pour the coal to her. This is where they weed the men out from the boys. This is where they kill. In a hot, blasting jet. They're guiding a miniature Halley's comet with no errors or deviations allowed. You're in a hurry, so you kick in the afterburner which multiplies your power and sends you roaring down the runway looking and sounding like a giant skyrocket. Two minutes after you answered the phone, you're airborne. Sure thing, this is Buckshot 24 on Able. Vector 0-5-0. Angels 1 climbing to Angels 3-8. Buckshot 24, this is sure thing. Bogey is at one o'clock passing starboard to port 60 miles, probably a boxcar. You're boron through the soup. At 15,000, you go on oxygen. At 20, you break out into inky darkness. At 38, you level off. Cut out the afterburner and let her cruise at better than 600 miles an hour. It's time again to call your guiding voice. Sure thing, this is Buckshot 24. Level at Angels 3-8. A second passes. Another. And then another. You begin to wonder, have they lost him? How could they lose him? You're about ready to call again when your ground partner comes in. Sure thing, to Buckshot 24. Bogey is now at 3 o'clock at Angels 3-2. Change vector to 0-9-0. Get that hanged. Yeah, why change course and let down 6,000 feet into the market if you don't mean trouble? Hold on, we're going down fast. New course in a different altitude you bore in to intercept an unidentified and strange acting plane. Why change course and let down 6,000 feet into the muck if you don't mean trouble? That's a good question. One way or the other you're going to find the answer. You don't have time to think about it. But you know if this should be the real McCoy, an enemy bomber making a sneak attack, the lives of thousands of people rest on the judgment and accuracy of the three of you. Pilot, radar observer and fighter controller. Several minutes later, sure things voice comes through again. Buckshot 24, this is sure thing. Punch. All right, Hank. Pick them up on your own set. And if you were Hank crouched in the rear cockpit surrounded by the electronic tools of your trade you'll notice that. The fiddle furiously with the control searching the void ahead for that elusive white blip in this racing high flung game of blind man's bluff. With your hand crank you'd operate the radar antenna. The beam probing out from it in an invisible arc sniffing through the black depths of space like a hound dog on the trail of a fox. After what seems in age you suddenly hit pay dirt. Contact 30 degrees, Robert, radar range above, closing speed 85. Which means when translated the target is 30 degrees to the right 6 degrees above and we're overtaking it at the rate of 80 miles an hour. Buckshot 24, this sure thing. We'll take it from here. Now it's up to Hank to keep the bogey centered on his scope. By giving you word directions keep the ship aimed directly at the target. Rocketing through the night at over 600 miles an hour the two of you tensely stalk your prey. Turn Starboard Target is 20 degrees Starboard 6 above Target is 10 degrees Starboard 6 above Steady Target dead ahead. The closer you get the faster Hank talks you follow his every word. You're almost in at the kill. Target 10 degrees Starboard 6 above closing at 8 I have chopped 60. Down go your flaps. Down goes your speed. You put on the brakes. You're about to camp on your target's tail. Target 10 degrees Starboard, 5,000 yards. Take over, Cole. From here on in you've got to run the intercept on your own scope. You're approaching at the enemy's unprotected quarter. To double check you, Hank follows the target too. His voice chanting in your ear. You glue your eye to the gun sight scope. You maneuver your plane until the bogey is centered on it. You've got him. Now all you have to do is press the trigger button on the stick and pour it at him. Buckshot 2-4 Bogey Kingsman, BA at Angels 4. The target you've successfully intercepted is not an enemy attacker. Milly a friendly bomber sent out to test your abilities. Hey, how'd you like the way I got that one for you? Oh, you here? I thought I left you on the ground. Be careful the way you fly this thing. Well, you might bump into something. Well, you might bump into something. How would you like to walk home? Young men, there's a future in flight. Today's jet age offers unlimited opportunities for young men between the ages of 19 and 26 and a half who have completed two or more years of college and are otherwise qualified. Yes, you can proudly wear the silver wings and fly the mighty aircraft of your United States Air Force when you've completed your training. For full details, visit your nearest United States Army and United States Air Force Recruiting Station today. Remember, the sooner you apply, the sooner you fly. This has been another program on Proudly We Hail, presented transcribed in cooperation with this station by the United States Army and the United States Air Force Recruiting Service. This is Kenneth Banghart speaking and inviting you to tune in the same station next week for another interesting story on Proudly We Hail.