 Proudly, we hail. New York City, where the American stage begins. Here is another program with a cast of outstanding players and featuring less daily. Public service time has been made available by the station for your Army and your Air Force to bring you this story as proudly we hail our men in the Air Force. It is entitled Jet Flight. I salute to the engineers, designers, and test pilots who make this story possible. Our first act curtain will rise after this important message for you young men with two or more years of college. You are urgently needed in your rapidly expanding United States Air Force. The Air Force needs men today to be the leaders of tomorrow. Men who will follow in the tradition of the Air Force and its great leaders. If you are between 19, yes, 19, and 26 and a half years of age and can qualify, you are urged to join the ranks of modern air pioneers by becoming an aviation cadet. Stop in at your nearest United States Army and United States Air Force recruiting station today. Or write to Aviation Cadet Branch, headquarters, United States Air Force, Washington 25 D.C. To fly free to follow the sun and chase the stars. To soar skyward and dwell in the lofty cloud worlds of upper space. To join the eagle and touch the hand of greatness with wings. The quiet reddish dawn light is growing about you as you top the final crest. And before you the rays of the sun and the stars of the sky, the reddish dawn light is growing about you as you top the final crest. And before you the road's long finger stretches out to touch the airport below. The airport beacon, weakened now by fast approaching daylight still continues its unyielding round. In the darkness, it was a warm and living thing. It's meaning bright and purposeful. Now it has become weak and useless. A mechanical thing without purpose. There's only one runway. A long wide reaching highway that leads to another world, the world of flight. Nervous? Silly question. Blame it on the hour. It's the right hour, Kent. Symbolic. The dawn of a new day. The dawn of the jet age. Save it, Mac. I'll settle for a cup of coffee. It would taste kind of good, wouldn't it? Yeah. You know how I feel? Like it was graduation day. Only I didn't know whether I'd graduate. You and a lot of other people. But especially you. No, not me. I have faith in her. By the time you drive through the airport gates, the light of a new day is washed clean in the sky, erasing all vestiges of darkness. You drive on down the tarmac past the hangars, the shops, the offices. Past an orderly line of planes to a smaller hangar where you pull up and stop. Hey, look. Let me bring her out. All right, you're clear. Make it easy. It's far enough? Yeah, that'll do. All right, guys. Top of the morning to you. Looks mighty pretty, doesn't she? Okay, you can then hook her now. How do you feel, Mac? Like a burden. She's a burden, all right. What any burden I know to shame. You walk out to where she sits waiting. The force of a beauty drawing you like a magnet. There's a sharp, arrow-like quality to her sleekness. The wings, swept back in tapering, silently proclaim great speed. The tail fin juts thinly upward, away from a graceful, pointed body, whose silvered skin covers but does not hide the latent feeling of power within her. She's new. She's different. She's all jet. The other guy that's got to prove she's the best fighter that's ever come off a drawing board anywhere. Let's go get that cup of coffee. There'll be another hour before the brass starts arriving. Might as well. You've been over in... You kidding? We've been at her all night. You got the easy job, boy. You got to do as the flyer. The man's comedian. I tell you, we'll let Kent fly her. You teach me how to fly first. I never could figure out what you're doing around here anyway. I'm just an innocent bystander. I like to watch other people work. Yeah, he's just the guy who dreamed her up. Me and about 5,000 other people. Come on, I'm hungry. The guy who dreamed her up. Now it wasn't Kent alone. Like he said, he was one of many. And as you walk down toward the airport restaurant, you think about that. You think of where it began, of how she was created, of how long it took and what it took to fashion this lovely thing of speed and power and majesty. And to begin, you must go back nearly five years. All right, gentlemen, I think we can begin. Now, you've all seen the directive on the type of fighter the Air Force is looking for. I needn't emphasize that it's going to be like starting from scratch. We've got to forget all we know about conventional aircraft. This is brand new, it's different, and it's a big challenge. In short, we have our work cut out for us. I know some of you already have some pretty definite ideas on jet fighters. Kent here may have shown you some of his. But in designing this ship, the factors of speed, range, and armament, not to mention cost, are going to pose tremendous barriers to one another. Now, taking the first two we know, speed, range, and armament. It sounds simple enough. That's what you expect in fighters. That's what you've got to have. But how do you get speed? And how do you get range with a fast-burning fuel and no room for extra fuel tanks? And armament, how can you put teeth in there with 650 caliber machine guns when the extra weight will cut down on your speed? Those are but the basic questions. And there are thousands more, each one important in its way, each one related to the other. The designers, the engineers, the technicians, they're the ones who have to find the answers. It might look good on paper, but if it won't do what it's supposed to do, you'd better start again. One of our first jobs is to provide a way for the pilot to bail out while traveling at transonic speed. He's got to eject him fast enough so he'll clear the vertical stabilizer. Much too bulky that way. Far too heavy. You'll have to cut it down. Too bulky, too heavy, cut it down. Put a half dozen men to work on the job and in eight or ten months' time you've got your pilot's seats. It's just fine, but that's only a beginning. Because before the pilot can leave the plane, his plexiglass covering has got to go. And then, when you finally got that one licked, you find... Oh, it's just dandy. Peachy. The only trouble is we found the pilot's feet. Won't clear the instrument panel. Oh. What do we do now? Only one thing to do. You can't redesign the pilot's feet. Oh, we redesign the instrument panel. Simple as that. Only it's not simple. And more thousands of hours of work go into the single task alone. It begins to sound like you're not building a new fighter, you're building a new planet. A question arises from another angle. Temperatures in the tailpipe will range around 1200 degrees centigrade. And what would happen if you got a bullet hole in the tailpipe? Good question. And the answer? The tailpipe would become a welding torch that would melt the support frames for your vertical and horizontal stabilizers and goodbye airplane. Well, how do you get around that one? Well, you'll have to make the parts out of stainless steel. The only trouble is we've never tried the process before. And to try the process you find that in the blueprint stage alone it takes about 25,000 additional man hours. Mike, come here and look at this thing, will you? Oh, what is it? Well, you know we've decided to increase the elevator surface, but we know this would increase the pressure on the elevator. That's right. Make it even tougher to move the stick at high speeds. Yep. That's what this gimmick takes care of. It's a motor that'll move the elevator control for you. Move it for you? How do you mean? Well, this motor would be hooked up here like this. It wouldn't matter how fast you would move it. You'd just move the stick and it would do the job. What about feel? What do you mean? The pilot's got to be able to judge his maneuvers by the feel of the controls. Take that away. How's he going to know how to handle it, say in a high-speed pull-out? I hate to say it, but I'm afraid you've got something, man. We'll have to figure a way around it. Figure a way around it. We're over it. Go through it, but figure it. And how many figures do you get from the day you start until the day she's an actual creation? Over 5,000 blueprints go into her building. Nearly a million man-hours of work and sweat and ingenuity add up to the finished product. And then it's your job to find out if she'll do what she's supposed to. How does she taxi? So far, so good. What about on the runway? I haven't really let her out yet. She gets going fast. I'll have a full report for you in the morning. Any date set for her first flight test? No, I'm not going to rush her. Let's be sure of her on the ground first. She looks like she could jump up and fly just standing there. And I'll tell you a secret, Kent. That's the way she feels. And then one day, with the sky blue and beckoning, you find yourself looking straight down the long runway. A plexiglass dome that arches over your head is the dome of her world. And the instruments and equipment about you are the key to her heart. You look out at the gentle curve of her wing and with your throat dry and your stomach empty, you know you're about to fly a plane that no one has ever flown before. What's he sitting out there waiting for? Maybe you'd wait too if you were out there. Took almost five years to get this far. What's the hurry? Think anything's wrong? Relax, Kent. Mack will make her go when he's ready. He's ready? Keep your fingers crossed. Wow. Look at that baby climb. Mama, look what we've done built. And so for you, the real... Every day you take her up and put her through her paces. She's tricky, high-spirited. She takes lots of watching, lots of knowing. And every time you bring her down, your report tells what was good and what wasn't so good. They go to work on her. They swarm over her from nose to tail. Like so many doctors, they listen to her heart, check her blood pressure, examine a nervous system that's made up of nearly two miles of wiring and make the diagnosis. Until finally, one day you bring her in and the headman says... Well, gentlemen, no one disagrees. I think she's ready to perform for the brass. Unless we're all wrong, she's got what it takes. Speed, range, armament. She's all jet. And there's nothing to match her anywhere. With less David in the featured role, the Proudly We Hail production jet flight will continue in just a moment with the second act. Here's good news for you young men with two or more years of college. The age requirement for aviation cadet training has been lowered to 19. Yes, if you are between 19 and 26 and a half years of age and can qualify, you will receive your silver wings and your commission as a second lieutenant in the expanding Air Force. There is a vitally important job for you as a pilot, navigator, bombardier, radar observer, flight engineer, or electronics officer. And there's golden opportunity for you in this jet age of air power. For full information, visit your United States Army and your United States Air Force Recruiting Station, or write direct to Aviation Cadet Branch, headquarters, United States Air Force Washington 25 D.C. That's Aviation Cadet Branch, headquarters, United States Air Force Washington 25 D.C. About 40,000 feet up. What? Yeah, that's what I mean. You want a trance? Oh, I'm sorry. You know, I was just thinking. We somehow gathered that. What's a home and all that sort of thing? You know, I was a guy who wasn't worried. You haven't touched your coffee, and you haven't said five words since we came in here. What's the matter? I thought it was all going to be a piece of cake. Well, it is. I was just thinking about the cake itself, all that went into making it. Some cake. Hey, uh, Jeannie, bring this character another cup of coffee, will you? Look, hot shot. It's all the same to you. I'm a little more concerned with the immediate future than testing her for the last 17 months. What's the matter? Are you afraid I'm going to pile her up in front of the brass? No, no. You know, I don't think that, but, uh, I can't help thinking of all the millions of things that can go wrong just when it counts the most. Well, Kent, if anything goes wrong, I'll have a little bit more to worry about than you. Yeah, but it still doesn't stop me from worrying. Can't be an old woman about it, Kent. Well, not get ulcers. The trouble with you is you don't have any nerves at all. You think the guy would have a little more confidence than something he helped to build, wouldn't you? Look, I've got just as many nerves as you. And if I didn't believe in that, baby, I wouldn't go out and fly her for the brass today. But you just relax and enjoy the show. Sure. Be stout-hearted. Like me. Maybe I'll bring my knitting along. The millions of things that can go wrong. It's a nasty thought that's bad enough in a designer's head and absolutely poisoned in the pilot's. If you leave the restaurant and start back, you force its dirty feet out of your head and look skyward. The solid, untouched early morning blue of it goes right through your eyes and into your heart. Suddenly you're impatient to get up there. Kiss the earth goodbye and go dwell in the limitless world of flight. Testing and its importance become secondary to what lies ahead. Got everything? No. I need my snowshoes, laundry basket and toothbrush. If you could see yourself, I'm beginning to think you don't think much of your own work. Okay, so I'm nervous. That's my business, isn't it? Well, sure. But I don't want any of it to spill off on me. Now, take your nervousness off somewhere where it won't bother anyone. I'm sorry, Mac. I'll get out of here, leave you alone. Now, she'll come through. I'll bet on it. And I never bet unless it's a sure thing. Good luck, Mac. I'll be watching. And it's all over, I'll buy you a soda. Hey, Mac, the boss wants to see you. He's in his office with the Air Force Joe's. Happy landings. Morning, Mac. Morning, boss. You feel like going in there, meeting the Air Force? I'd rather go fly an airplane. It's plenty of time to meet them afterwards. They brought a couple of their own test pilots. When it's over, you can start briefing them. They'll want to check around as soon as possible. Well, they must be eager. I think it has more to do with the air force. I think it has more to do with time than eagerness. Just as soon as they put their stamp of approval on it, we go into production. Big rush, eh? Mighty big. Other than as soon as I get flying, as soon as we get into production, how do you feel? Fine. How about you? Well, I like eating cigars. They help digest my breakfast. Let's save one for Kent. He's about ready to pop his buttons. Well, I guess maybe we all are. It's a big day, Mac. Well, there's not much I can say. But, uh, good luck and take it easy. Thanks, boss. See you later. Tower to McRae. Tower to McRae. Over. McRae to Tower. Go ahead. They're all set down below, Mac. You're cleared for takeoff. Cleared for takeoff. You've got your passport to the stars. In the cockpit, the sound of her voice is muted and hushed. She purrs like a cat. And once you start moving, you leave her voice behind altogether. The sunlight gleams on the canopy, warm and assuring. The runway invites you to follow its course. It's time to go. You move the throttle forward smoothly and easily. You head back against the rest, with sudden pressure pushing hard at you. You become strongly alive in an instant. A temperament and mood transmitting itself into your hands and feet. Your blood. You swallow up the runway with ever-increasing rapidity, while the finger on the airspeed indicator steadily climbs the face of its cage. And you need no indicators, no mechanical dials to announce her readiness to slip the chains of Earth. Or she tells you so herself. She proclaims it to the whole universe, and so gently you give her her head and lift her free. She seems to get off nicely enough. That's what I call racking it up. Hard to tell how good she really is standing down here. When's it gonna make a gunnery run? The time has come, the walrus said. You've shown them how she takes off, how she lands, how smoothly she rolls, and how nicely she racks up. Now it's time to get down to business and show them how much of a sting she carries. You watch her wing wave a lazy goodbye to the sun, and then the speed is building up and the target is a growing dot that lies ahead. You'll have two, maybe three seconds to cut loose. An instrument of great ingenuity and remarkable precision is your guide. You glue your eye to it as the target looms larger and the speed builds up. You flatten out and come roaring for the kill. That target practically disintegrated. He's got five more to work on. Just watch. Now they know the kind of a whip she carries. She's a nice girl but deadly on trespasses. Next on the list is speed. You level off, get lined up, and pour the cold to her pressing the throttle against the step. You were to put a covering over the canopy and block out the hypnotic swing of the airspeed indicator. You might think you were sitting in an armchair at home, where you hear nothing and you feel quite normal. But as the earth flashes beneath you in a confused blur and the needle swings ever higher, the sweat pours off you on rivers. Every nerve in you is key to the bolt of lightning you ride. One minute error on your part. Steady. He's starting to vibrate. You've caught the speed of sound. Hold on now. Hold on, brother. You've left the speed of sound behind and the tracks clear ahead. You don't know just when you pass the clocking points, but after a while you throttle back, slow down, turn around, and go back and do it all over again. That's not a plane. It's a shooting star. Interesting to see just how fast they clocked him. Now I know what they mean when they say he was gone before he got here. Be coming back again in a second or two. And so the show is almost over. Her rain, her maximum ceiling, her rate of climb, those are statistics that were known before this final test. The Air Force pilots will have plenty of chance to check and prove them. Now her speed, her firepower, and her general performance have been noted. All it remains is a terminal velocity dive to find out whether she'll keep her wings on and you'll stay in one piece. It's not the going that hurts. It's the pulling out when the force of gravity tries to crush you right through the bottom of the cockpit. You take one last look around and then pull the carpet out from under her and head for the earth far below. Now timid on winds, faster and faster, the safety margin of height is whittled away in a banshee's wail. You wait for the airspeed indicated to hit a certain mark. That's when you'll start to pull out. Exceed that mark and you'll never pass through the hell that lies before you. Come on, hurry up and get there. There's not much room left. All right, now. Start easing her back gently. The angry guard of gravity slams down your skull. Fingers grab at your flesh and try to tear it from your bones. The clothes open your mouth and sucks the blood from your head. Your vision goes. Your lump of stone. You can't move. You'll never pull out. You've got to, got to. She got them all, Mac. A lot more besides. Yeah, all there is. Did you see the reports on your speed? A couple of miles an hour, wasn't it? Hey, hey, hey. Bit of big day. A real big one. Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Hmm. You almost spoiled it for me with that last dive. I wasn't exactly sure you were going to pull out. Well, I'll tell you a secret, Kent. Neither was I. Yeah, I bet. Well, now the real work begins. The boss says we start production by next Monday. And then you produce it. Make it by 50s, by hundreds, by thousands. You modify it. You improve it. You start with model A. And before long, you're turning out model D. Each model a little bit better than the previous. But to do it and do it right, you need machines. You need manpower. And you need skill. Greater skill than ever before. Because this is a new job with more complexities and more demanding exactness than any fighter plane ever built. And the thought comes to you that with so many people putting their brains and energy to work on the same project, working for the same goal, you can't miss. And so with darkness once again sweeping in over the land, you leave the airport with your friend and drive on toward home, the humming wheels echoing over your frame over and over in your head. He's all jet, Mr. And you built her for young men to fly. Thank you, Les Damon, for a very fine portrayal. Now here's an important message. Can you qualify to fly in your United States Air Force? There's good news for you young men who have had two or more years of college. Yes, because today the age requirement has been lowered to include you fellows who are just 19. If you can qualify and are between the ages of 19 and 26 and a half, you can fly the mighty bombers and speedy jets of today's expanding Air Force. There's an important job to be done and there's an important future for you in Air Force Blue. For full information, visit your United States Army and United States Air Force Recruiting Station or nearest Air Force Base or write to Aviation Cadet Branch, Headquarters, United States Air Force, Washington 25 D.C. I'll repeat that address. It's Aviation Cadet Branch, Headquarters, United States Air Force, Washington 25 D.C. 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 program featured Les Damon. This is Kenneth Banghart speaking and inviting you to tune in the same station next week for another interesting story on Proudly We Hail.