Santa Ana winds blow mostly in autumn and winter, but can also arise at other times of the year.
They can range from hot to cold, depending on the prevailing temperatures in the source regions–the Great Basin and upper Mojave Desert.
For those of us that live here in the Southland, the words “Santa Ana winds” bring visions of downed trees and power poles, roofs blowing off and of course the scary times when fires ravage the local mountains and communities. But in 1944, young “shavetails” training at Lancaster’s War Eagle Field had to learn the ins and outs of the desert valley climate, when the devil winds from the east came to visit!
Enter one Cadet K.G. Henrys from Lansing, Mich., who was spending his basic time at Polaris Flight Academy at War Eagle Field. Keeping in line and not screwing up was paramount in not washing out, and every detail of flight training was gone over and over until it was just a part of your routine. Then came the day when the devil winds showed up and the routine went out the window!
In an interview I did with Henrys, he spoke of the day when his flight training almost came to an end after the previous day’s Santa Ana’s ravaged the field. The cadet class that finished up on that windy day landed and had field crews meet them as they taxied in, so as to lay on the aircraft wings and keep the winds from tipping them over. It was decided to not tie down the aircraft, but to take them right into the hangers out of the winds. All the BT-13s were tucked away for the night and the service crews that worked overnight to make sure the planes were ready to go in the morning started the process in the crowded hangers of prepping them for the next day’s work. The fueling of the aircraft was the last thing to be done. When the fueling crew showed up, they were faced with the chore of a lot of airplanes in a very cramped space needing to be serviced.
In all the confusion, a couple of planes never got the fuel hose and in the morning were pushed out to the ready line. Cadet Henrys was scheduled for the first flights of the day and the routines of all the previous training days had his mind on auto pilot, taking for granted that a plane with a full tank was waiting to go. Start up, taxi out and take off were all perfect and so he settled in to perform the day’s checklist of flight requirements.
Making his way to the north end of the valley, a shuddering plane, a few pops and silence had him doing a quick once-over of the cockpit flight instruments. When he got to the fuel gauge, his eyes got as big as onions! The needle laying on the left pin told him that his flight was going to come to an end–real quick! A long dirt road on a farm just below caught his eye and with a little bit of quality airmanship he could roll right up to the farm house. He made the perfect landing and ended up just about where he was hoping to. The friendly farmer came out and struck up a conversation with our dejected cadet as he disembarked. He knew this was not going to be a good day and could not figure out why the plane was dry.
He was hoping for a mechanical problem, not an oversight by him that would cost him his wings.
Then the wheels started turning: “If I could get the plane back to the field then no harm, no foul!” The farmer only had diesel fuel and it would take money to go get anything else, so options were thinning out when the farmer came up with a plan. “Let’s take your plane and put the tail in the back of my pickup truck and tow it back to the field!” Henrys thought, “Well, I guess if I’m going to wash out what the heck — it’s better to be back at the field then waiting out here for the hammer to fall!”
Maj. M.A. Dula looked up from his desk at out the window toward the corner of 60th West and Avenue I and could not believe his eyes. There, in the bed of a pickup truck, was the tail of a plane lashed down and rolling along on its main wheels, pulling into the airfield. Accompanied by the farmer, the sheepish cadet was called to attention by the major and explained the ordeal. It was not received with kind words and he was sent to his bunk to await further instructions. At least the farmer did get a thanks and a tank of gas for the effort and wished Cadet Henrys well.
Returning to his bunk and ready to pack up his belongings, he was summoned to the head shed to give a full report of the incident. Luckily the plane was no worse for the wear and a look at the fueling record from early that morning showed an error by the ground crew of filling in the maintenance card and stating the plane had been fueled. But that did not relieve Henrys from the responsibility of the cockpit check that would have kept him from taking off with an empty tank.
Luckily, winds of another kind were blowing in his favor. You see, at this time the field was notified that this would be the very last of the basic classes to graduate from War Eagle Field and the leadership wanted a 100 percent graduation of the cadets in the last class. Luck was on Henrys side, but two weeks of extra duty in the parachute shop packing chutes drove home the message that a simple oversight could end with a trip under a blanket of silk and the loss of a plane.
So the Santa Ana winds made this story possible and for our young Cadet who went on to co-pilot B-24 bombers in the South Pacific, he would always remember the day when the devil winds and a farmer would cross paths with him on an Antelope Valley farm and teach him the lesson that you should never take things for granted and never refuse a ride in a pickup truck from a farmer with a plan!
Till next time, Bob Out!