 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 to bring you this story, as proudly we hail the United States Air Force. Our story is entitled, The Test. This is the story of a young Air Force test scientist who goes through the biggest test of all. As proudly we hail the scientists in uniform of the United States Air Force's Air Research and Development Command. Our first act curtain will rise in just a moment. First, man, do you want a lead to get out in front and stay there? Then join a leader, the United States Air Force. As an airman, you lead with the world's finest technical training. You're a key man skilled in any of 400 important jobs necessary to keep our planes in the air. Wherever you go, you're respected as a member of America's greatest flying organization, a key man in the nation's sky defense. See your local Air Force recruiting station today and talk it over. And now your United States Air Force presents the proudly we hail production, The Test. Crazy, like one minute I'm going down, the next minute I'm looking up, there was my arm dangled like it didn't belong to me. Yes, Lieutenant Burns, you're on your neck floating through the sky. You look up and see your arm floating too. Now think, try to remember, try to remember. Remember, remember. There's one word I'd like to forget right now, it's that one. From my seat here in the Observer Bombardier compartment of the Test B-47, I can look down and see the blue of the Gulf of Mexico, the white of the Florida beaches, the small orange dot of the crash boat. We're flying at 40,000 feet above them, but that's 40,000 feet too much for me. I know that, but I won't admit it. I try to get it out of my mind. I try to concentrate on what I have to do in a few minutes. I find myself remembering, remembering things I shouldn't. How did I get here? How did it all begin? What causes anything to happen in a man's life? An impulse, a desire, a passion? Looking back now, I suppose it was a combination of things in my case. Restlessness, curiosity, and I guess, fate. When I joined the Air Force a few years ago, I had a brand new mechanical engineering degree in my pocket. So I soon found myself a Lieutenant of the Air Research and Development Command at Wright-Patterson at Dayton, Ohio, sitting over a drafting board in an air conditioned office. I didn't mind at first because I was doing what I knew how to do in an exciting field, research on experimental projects. But after about six months of wearing out the seats of four pairs of trousers, I began to get restless. So when I was approached one day by Major Evans from the Aeromedical Laboratory of the Command and heard what he had to say, I was all ears. Lieutenant Burns, I like the way you work with us in developing the new pressure suit. You had some good ideas. Thank you, sir. Now, as you know, we got together a group from the command to check the suit through actual experience with it. And since we were successful, it has been decided to set up a permanent unit to be known as a special project section of which I shall be in charge. I see, sir. Our job will be to take an idea and develop it from the planning stage right through to the final actual testing of it. We're going to have to be not only the scientist in the lab, but also our own guinea pigs. That means fieldwork. Tough, dirty and dangerous experimenting. Under the same conditions, our combat flyers have to go through. That's the best way to prove anything by testing it yourself, sir. Exactly. Now, from what I've observed, you seem to have not only good ideas, but energy and enthusiasm. And the men in my section will have to have those three qualities plus something else. Plain, old-fashioned, spunk. How would you like to join the section? Major Evans, you couldn't have asked me at a better time. I've polished all the seats I want to in this office, and I'm ready for something else. Well, I can't guarantee that you won't be polishing any more seats. In fact, you might still do so. Only it'll be a different kind of a seat. A far different kind. Major was so right as I found out a week later after my transfer came through. I reported to his office for the initial briefing on the section's newest project. Oh, come in, Lieutenant. I'd like you to meet your associates, Dr. Nichols, flight surgeon from the Air Force Medical Service, a handyman with a band-aid. Glad to meet you, Lieutenant Burns. Captain Arnold, one-time paratrooper. Howdy, Lieutenant. Hi. Master Sergeant Perry, best parachute-bringer in the business. How are you, sir? Fine, thank you. And Lieutenant Smith, the man who keeps the records. Welcome to the section. Like where am I? I'll just draw up a chair, Lieutenant, make yourself comfortable. Thank you, sir. Our gentlemen in a few words are a new assignment. As you are aware, the Air Force now has an ejection seat that will eject pilots and crew members from crippled stratoplanes in such a manner that they will be parachuted automatically and safely to the ground. All crew members, except one, the Observer Bombardier of the new B-47 Stratoget bomber. How come? Because the Observer Bombardier is located in the compartment in the bottom of the plane, Captain Arnold. Oh, I get it. He'd have to be ejected down with them. That's right. And, of course, our present ejection seat operates only upward. Well, that shouldn't be much of a problem, should it, Major? All we have to do is reverse the procedure. Well, it would seem that way, but unfortunately it's not that simple. They've been working on it in England, and from reports it's a tough nut to crack. Going downwards and out of a plane at high speed at strato altitudes creates a terrific upward wind blast. Oh, I see. And if a man doesn't stay in his seat long enough to overcome the initial blast, that would be bounced right back up through the plane. That's right. Now there have been some preliminary plans drawn up, and we'll take a look at them. If everything goes well, it shouldn't take longer than six months to get it finished. Scientific research in any field means hours and hours of constant experimenting with the tails, and it is no different in an Air Force research lab. It took 18 months. We did nothing but work out ideas, draw up plans, manufacture specific items of equipment, and test and test and then test again. We had a special downward ejection tower built at Wright and tried out 50 dummy and 75 human subjects on it before we felt that we had a seat that would work. Well, gentlemen, this is it, I think. There's nothing more we can do now except try it out in actual performance. That means we go south for the winter. That's right, Lieutenant Smith, to Eglin. Ah, Florida, the land of deep sea, fishing, saltwater swimming, and suntan blondes. Yes, Sergeant Perry, it is that. We'll do some saltwater swimming and deep sea fishing when we're fished out of the gulf after we've parachuted in the ejection seat. But as far as the suntan blondes are concerned, well, your blond complexion, you better take your suntan oil with you. Sorry, sir, I lost my head for a moment. Yes, well, for what we're going to do, we're going to have to keep our heads. Confidentially, though, I've been looking forward to this, too. Now for a quick review. We've got an ejection seat equipped with an ankle and knee retainer that'll hold the man's legs down when the upward draft hits them. I'm sure they'll work okay. The big question is the arm retainer. Will the D-ring work or not? That was the $65 question, all right. The D-ring was a 3-eighth-inch metal rod bent in a triangle and fastened to the forward edge of the seat. It was primarily designed as a trigger to shoot off the catapult seat. But it was also to serve as a hand grip to which the man could hold to keep his arms from flying about until the seat and he parted company. Our dummy tower tests indicated that it would work, but we wouldn't be sure until we tested it in actual practice. For the others in the section, the tests would be old hat, but to me, a newcomer, they would prove to be a lot different in more ways than one. We arrived at Eglin Air Force Base and got our initial briefing from Major Evans. The tests will consist of eight jumps with the seat from a specially prepared B-47 about two miles off the coast. We'll have the nice big gulf of Mexico to fall in, so we'll get a free swim out of it at least. And the first jump at 400 miles per hour will proceed by stages up to 570 miles per hour. After this series is concluded, successfully, I hope, we'll then conduct further ones at higher altitudes and speeds. All right, now we'll draw straws to see who goes first. I would have liked to have gone first. This was the kind of thing I'd been looking forward to ever since I joined the Air Force. I was raring to go, but when the drawing was finished, I found that I was to take the fifth jump at 525 miles per hour. What are you complaining about, Hal? If it's excitement you want, you'll certainly get more of it at that speed. Relax. Smitty said I'd get excitement, but I got far more than that. However, it didn't seem that way until the first four jumps before mine. After the first day, the procedure became pretty much routine. Get up at 5, help to dress the jumper in three suits, a winter weight exposure suit, a rubber immersion suit, and a pink flying suit for visibility, plus a P3 helmet, oxygen mask, and a huge seat parachute pack. He'd be seated in the ejection seat in the belly of the B-47 and take off, while the rest of us would speed out into the Gulf in an orange and white crash boat, which the bomber pilot would use as his drop target. The others would circle around, take him movies, and when the jumper landed in the water, we'd be there to pick him up. Soon as he was hauled aboard, Doc Nichols would check him and then take him immediately to a tape machine where he would tell in his own words what happened to him while he made the jump. And then finally, the day when I was the guy in the ejection seat, and the others were waiting to pick me up. Okay, Lieutenant Burns, 15 seconds. Boss, that captain, what are you doing? Ten seconds. Five, four, three, two, one. A cartridge exploded. And then the next thing I knew, I was lying on my back out of the seat, looking up at the B-47. And I saw my right arm hanging here. It wasn't pointing in the direction it should point, and it didn't seem to be my arm. And everything went black. Black as the ace of spades. MUSIC You're listening to the proudly-vehiled production, The Test. We'll return in just a moment for the second act. Are you interested in a career with a promising future? There are hundreds of jobs ranging from administration and accounting to electronics and construction open to you in the United States Air Force. As an airman, you can learn a technical specialty that will prepare you for a promising future. A handy new 84-page booklet entitled Pocket Guide to Air Force Opportunities gives you the complete story. Everything pertinent to an Air Force enlistment is covered. From basic training to promotion and travel information. For these and many other interesting facts on what the Air Force can mean to you, pick up your free copy of Pocket Guide to Air Force Opportunities. Get it at your nearest Air Force recruiting office at Air Force Base. Remember that title, Pocket Guide to Air Force Opportunities. Get one today. You are listening to proudly-vehiled and now we present the second act of The Test. The last thought I had before I blacked out was that my luck hadn't held. On my very first test jump I fouled up. I don't know how long I was out but my automatic parachute opener must have worked okay as I saw after I came to it. Okay, Hal, you got to be all right. Smitty, I go. Now don't worry about that now. Take it easy, I'll get this rope around you. Yeah. Okay, Major Evans, haul it in. Smitty, Smitty. Save it, boy, when we get aboard the crash boot you can tell Doc Knickles. Just lie still and take it easy. Okay, Steve, okay. Get him on that stretcher there. Good. I want you to try to tell us what happened up there. Sergeant Perry, turn on the recording machine. Yes, sir. Well, there isn't much I can tell. One minute I'm going down, the next time I'm looking up my arm it dangles like it didn't belong to me. Yes, you're on your back floating. Your arm is floating too. Now try to remember did you have a grip on the D-ring? Yes, as tight as I could but something was to happen. And from the time you pulled the D-ring until you found yourself flat on your back in the air you don't remember anything? No, sir. Okay, Lieutenant. Now just lie back and forget about it. How is he, Doc? Nothing too serious, just a broken right shoulder and a dislocated elbow. But it feels a lot worse than that, eh, Lieutenant? Oh, you said it, Doc. I feel pretty bad. But not only my arm. Well, don't worry about it. You'll be getting a nice long rest at the base hospital here. Right, Doc? Yes, about six weeks anyway. There. Now this will hold you until you get there. Okay, man. Let's get him below deck. By the time the crash boat reached the dock an ambulance from Eglin Air Force Base was waiting. I don't remember much of my ride of what happened after I got to the hospital. Dr. Nichols had given me a shot of some kind and I was groggy. I slept all night afternoon and night until late the next morning when I awoke to see that I had a visitor. Boy, what a setup. I got room, an ocean view and a pretty nurse. Got it made, Hal. Hi, Smithy. How you feeling, boy? Oh, all right, I guess. Look okay. The nurse tells me your fracture and dislocation were clean. They expect no complications. Yeah, they did a nice job of setting them. What do you got there? Oh, books, candy and records from the gang. Oh, they didn't have to do that. Well, thanks. Tell them thanks. I sure will. How are the tests going? Oh, they aren't. What's that? Major Evans called a halt to them. We're packing up and going back to Wright-Patterson. Oh, my fault, I guess. Some luck I have. You're talking about luck. If that hadn't happened to you, it would have happened to someone else. I don't know. Sure it would. They developed the movies they took of your jump and saw that the wind pinned your arms back and then caught them and twisted them straight up. There's nothing you do. The D-ring just doesn't work at that speed. That's all. Something didn't work. Either the D-ring or me. I don't know which. What are they going to do now? Well, we're going back to pre-flight testing at Wright to try to figure out a fix on the D-ring. I sure wish I could be there to help. Don't worry. It'll take a while. And chances are you'll be there in time to make another jump. So just enjoy yourself here and soak up the sunshine. Well, look at him. He looked like a piece of well-done Melba toast with legs. Hi, Smitty. It's great to see you again. Welcome home, man. How's your wing? Well, it's all healed up fine. Ready to go, huh? Yeah, ready to go. Well, you got back just in time. We got a new D-ring rigged up. Oh, yeah? Yep. Gonna start dummy tower tests on it tomorrow. How'd you fix it up? It wasn't easy. It took a long time. But somebody came up with the bright idea to fix the ring so it'd give a little when the initial wind blast hit the arm of the jumper. Hey, that sounds good. How does it work? We figured out the best way to do it would be to put a spring-loaded reel on the steel cord with which the ring is fastened to the front edge of the seat. You get it? Yeah, yeah, something like the way a shock absorber works in a car. Oh, that's right. We got the contraption all set up. And if the dummy tests prove it okay, we'll soon be taking another trip to Florida for some more test jumps. I guess you won't mind that. Oh, I guess not. I'll see you tomorrow at the ejection tower. Dummy's all set in the seat, Major Evans. Right, Lieutenant Smith. Move out. Sergeant Perry, start the wind machine. No velocities, sir. Right, Sergeant. Prepare to fire. Fire! Okay, cut the wind. Now, let's take a look at that recording graph. Here you are, sir. Well, we've reduced the pull in the D-ring from 360 pounds to 300. That's not enough. Lieutenant Burns, come along with me. I want you to start drawing up plans for a higher tension spring coil. Can you get them done by tomorrow? I think so, sir. Fine. See you then. Oh, Chief. Might I have a word with you? Sure. It's kind of hard for me to say what I mean, but first, I want to tell you that I've enjoyed working with you in a section. We've enjoyed having you with us. Thank you, sir. It's been a great experience, but I think that I'd like to go back to my own job, sir, in plan. Oh, how come? Well, I feel that I can do more for the Air Force there than I can with the section. I don't think I'm cut out for this kind of work. Well, from the way you've worked with us, I'm afraid I'd have to disagree with you on that. Have you made up your mind definitely about it? Yeah, pretty much so. I hope you understand, sir. I think I do. But I have a suggestion. Why don't you think it over first? There's no rush, is there? I know, sir, there isn't. Good. I'll tell you what we'll do. I'll need your help in perfecting this D-ring some more. Now, why don't you wait until after the jump test in Florida, okay? Well, I... Good. I'll see you tomorrow then. I suppose it takes a long lifetime to get to know oneself. There I was with 25 years of living behind me, and I thought I really wanted back my old job because I wasn't fitted for my present one. But actually, I wanted out for a far different reason, one that I couldn't admit to myself. We spent the next few months working on the D-ring until we got it to the point where the pull on the wrist had been reduced to 175 pounds. Enough, we thought, to enable a man to hold onto it. And once more, we flew back to Eglin Air Force Base for what we hoped would be the concluding tests on it. Now, gentlemen, we're going to hold a series of 10 jumps this time. The first eight will be at 10,000 feet, working our way up from 400 miles an hour to 570. The last two will be held from around 45,000 feet if we get that far. Who's going to make those two jumps, sir? The first eight we will rotate among the section with the exception of Lieutenant Burns who will be leaving us soon. The last two jumps we'll draw for. Now, the first jump Captain Arnold will make tomorrow at 400 miles per hour. I think that covers it. Any questions? All right, reporting time tomorrow at the ready shack will be 0600, that's all. Hey, uh, hey Hal, uh, wait up, will ya? What's, what's this about your leaving us? Yeah, it's true. What's the matter, don't you like our company? No, it's just that I, I'm an unlucky character I guess and what we're doing, you need all the luck you can get. Oh, still on that, huh? Don't you remember what I told you about luck? Yeah, but I can't get it out of my mind. What, what, what can't you get out of your mind? Well, sometimes a thing lodges in your mind and no matter how much you try to shake it off, it only grows bigger and bigger and it'll work like this, you have to have a clear mind, you know that. Sure, sure, but you've got to try to snap yourself out of it. Ah, who knows, maybe I will. Maybe. The next day the test started and as we had hoped the D-ring worked fine right up through the eighth jump, which was at a higher speed than the last jump I had made on the previous test, finally we reached the morning of the real big one, the jump at 45,000 feet and that was only an hour ago. All right, men, this is it. We're going to find out what happens at extreme altitudes and I don't have to tell you what might happen. He didn't, each one of us knew what he meant. Two years before a jump volunteer had been knocked unconscious at 40,000 feet, his right glove jarred off and he nearly lost his hand from frostbite. Another one at 32,000 feet had broken his back. 1,000 things could happen. Terrific spins, losing an oxygen mask, unknown things yet to be found out perhaps today. We had thought a lot about these possibilities, all of us including me, for I had made up my mind the night before. A man can't go on living with himself as long as he has any doubts about himself. So when the major handed out straws to make the pick, here you are, men, grab one. I'll take one, major. Are you sure you want a lieutenant? Yes, sir, I'm sure. Okay, here you are. All right, now let's see who's got the shortest straw. Looks like you have, Hal. Yeah, I guess I do. Are you sure, Lieutenant? Get me into those suits, sir. Okay, pack them in, men. How do you feel, Hal? With all this stuff on. Let me adjust that oxygen mask. There, all set, chief. Good. How's Burns? Make it a good one. I'll try, sir. Good luck, boy. Sounds funny coming from you, Smitty. You'll find out what I mean. Take care, will you? Thanks, I will. They're waiting for me down there below somewhere. We're so high I can't see anything but blue water sitting here alone with my thoughts. I know now why I asked out of the job. I was scared, plain scared. But I also know that's nothing to be ashamed of. Everybody gets scared once in a while. The bad thing about it is giving in. And I haven't done that. I've got to fight it, though. Fight it. Got a funny feeling on my stomach. Fifteen seconds, Lieutenant. Right, Captain. Ready. Ten seconds. Five, four, three, two, one. Hang on to the D-ring, and it's okay. Get the seat. I've got to kick it off. There she goes. Starting to spin. Feel my helmet crawling up on top of my head. Must be the gravitational pull. Be careful my oxygen mask is going conkying. Got to break the spin. Can't pull my legs up. They're like lead. Getting dizzy. I get dizzy. Pull out of it. Pull out of it. Pull out of it. That's better. Now, what time is it? My watch stopped. Can't tell how far I've fallen. There's a shore. Must be a 20,000. There goes the spinning again. Try to guess the time. Can't take a chance on the automatic opener. Must be a 13,000 pull-out ripcord. Pull-out. There she goes. Spinning so hard. Might collapse the chute. No, no, no. She's okay. I'll take off the mask. I'll play with my underarm reserves. There's the helicopters and fighters. Take a deep breath. Relax. Soon over. Soon over. We finally got a downward ejection seat that works. It was rough, sir, but I made it okay, I guess. You know something, Hal? You just broke the world's record for a high-altitude jump. That's good. I think I've got something else beat. What's that? Well, I'd call it a sort of a spell. Yeah, that's what it was. Major Evans, if you don't mind, sir, I've changed my mind about leaving this section for you. Well, it certainly is, Lieutenant. It certainly is. I was hoping you'd find out this way. And I hope you got those ideas about bad luck out of your head. I sure have. You were right, Smitty. You bet I was. Let me see if it's still there. What? What's still there? There it is. Slipped it under your oxygen mask just before you went up. Well, what is it? Nothing. Just a four-leaf clover. That's all. A little old four-leaf clover. Make your future a sure future as an airman in the world's greatest flying organization, the United States Air Force. As a leader in Air Force Blue, you ensure two futures, your countries and your own, with fine technical training in any of 400 valuable skills. You're a trained specialist helping to keep America's planes in the air, confident of your ability, proud of your mission, served as an airman. See your local Air Force recruiter today. This has been another program on Proudly We Hail, presented transcribed in cooperation with this station. Proudly We Hail is produced by the Recruiting Publicity Center in New York for the United States Air Force, and this is Mark Hamilton speaking, inviting you to tune in this same station next week for another interesting story on Proudly We Hail.