Fighter Pilot: The Memoirs of Legendary Ace Robin Olds by Robin Olds & Christina Olds & Ed Rasimus

Author:Robin Olds & Christina Olds & Ed Rasimus [Olds, Robin]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780312560232
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2010-04-07T00:00:00+00:00

14

Landstuhl to Libya

In the middle of July 1955 I found my way to Landstuhl after stopping in London to see the family. Ella and the girls were ensconced in a lovely old town house in the Wilton Row Mews of London, near Hyde Park. I had to admit it was more her style than an officer’s house on an air force base in Germany, or for that matter on any base. Ella was already working on a movie being filmed at Beaconfield Studios in Buckinghamshire. The Man in the Road would be her last film. She called me her “Man in the Sky” when I left for Germany. It wasn’t offered endearingly.

The CO at Landstuhl fixed me with a watery sort of stare when I showed up in his office, and proceeded to give me my welcoming briefing. There I was, a wet-behind-the-ears, brand-new full-bull colonel, just arrived, facing the senior colonel who was my wing commander. I had heard of the man before but little was exceptionally positive or negative. My elation at being assigned as the 86th Interceptor Group commander began to waver.

“The 86th has been in Germany on occupation duty since the end of the war,” announced the colonel with clearly discernible disdain. “Its reputation leaves much to be desired, particularly the off-duty behavior of the pilots. I will not tolerate the situation any longer. For your information, the two Georges [previous 86th Group commanders Bickle and Simler] did nothing to stop the custom of breaking all the bar glasses in the officers’ club every Friday beer call. As the group commander I expect you to put an immediate stop to that habit, and I mean RIGHT NOW!”

“Yes, sir,” I answered. Holy shit, I thought. Ten years of tradition, and all of a sudden I should stop it? If it pisses you off so damned much, Colonel, what have you done about it? Obviously the ball was in my court, and whatever happened next would be my doing, not his.

I signed in at group headquarters and was shown to my office. I was in no mood to appreciate the decor or to acquaint myself with the pictures of my predecessors. I had to think about this new setup and try to grasp my position in the pecking order. The air force had recently reorganized into operational wings, as opposed to the old system of groups. The flying group had always consisted of three or four squadrons, at least in my experience. A full colonel normally commanded a group, and a lieutenant colonel or sometimes a major commanded a squadron. Apparently the 86th was the last of the old system, with a wing headquarters grafted on top of it. Back in World War II, a wing contained as many as six groups. Guys at squadron level didn’t even bother to try to understand organization changes. Headquarters seemed to reorganize just to have something to do. Nothing much changed. Responsibilities remained the same. Maybe the shuffle meant the air force could justify more colonels and generals.

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