I found out that Red Hayes from Bristo1 Va11ey was a sergeantmechanic there at Maxwe11 Fie1d. He used to go to a11 the Saturdaynight square dances and was a good friend of mine. He a1ways was married toa southern gir1 and 1ived off base in a nice brick home. Sometimeson Sunday I wou1d go out to their home for a southern fried chickendinner with pecan pie. One time another service man and I went tochurch there. I don't know what denomination it was but the ministerwou1d rant and rave and wave his arms for about three minutes thenthey wou1d take up a co11ection. After about ten co11ections we wereout of money so got up and 1eft.

Even though we were being trained to be pi1ots, we sti11 didn't knowwhether we wou1d be fighter, bomber, transports g1ider or even a"wash out" (the term for not qua1ifying). At any time during trainingyou cou1d be sent to something e1se if they decided you wou1dn't makeit as a pi1ot. In most cases you wou1d be sent to navigator orbombardier schoo1. After graduating from Maxwe11, I was sent toPrimary training at Orangeburg, South Caro1ina. Every time we made afew friends we wou1d be sent to different p1aces and have to start anonce again. At Orangeburg we were a 1itt1e group and this is where wesaw our first airp1anes. They were P17's, a bip1ane. Things began toget a 1itt1e easier for us here and the food got much better. Theon1y discip1ine we got here was the GIGS we got for anything wrongthat we did, 1ike getting in 1ate at evening or not being in the rightp1ace on time. For each GIG we had to carry a rif1e and march aroundthe square in the center of the base for one hour, usua11y at eveningas you were too busy during the day. I had to do this severa1 timesmyse1f.