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I arrived at Nellis AFB, Las Vegas, Nevada, in September 1953 as a 21-year-old second lieutenant right out of pilot training.
Nellis was out of BOQ rooms, so they gave me a cot up in the attic. I couldn’t have cared less—I was just thrilled to be there.
We lost one F-86 Sabre a week to fatal crashes.
I graduated in January 1954, and during my time there, we lost one F-86 Sabre a week to fatal crashes. They were turning out Sabre pilots as fast as they could, even though the Korean War had ended that June. The instructors’ attitude was: “Better here than in combat, where they might kill somebody else.” One guy flamed out on takeoff and bellied in safely out in the desert. He had no fuel on board. On the lower right of the instrument panel was a giant dial showing up to 2,800 pounds of fuel. He took off with it showing about 200 pounds—and neither he nor his crew chief caught it.
Our instructors were first lieutenants just back from Korea.
Our instructors were first lieutenants just back from Korea. They had about 500 hours and no IP school—none of that in those days. I was flying number four when my instructor did a loop near Mount Charleston. If I hadn’t broken off, I would’ve hit the mountain. I thought I was going to get chewed out when we landed, but all he said was, “Good thing you broke off—otherwise you would’ve hit the mountain.”
We were fresh out of training where we flew the T-33, and you steered the nosewheel with differential braking. The F-86 had nosewheel steering controlled by a button on the B-8 stick grip. I did a full 360 just trying to pull out of my parking spot on the first flight.
To collect flight pay, you had to log four hours a month in anything.
On my third flight, my instructor had to abort, so I went up solo in a clean bird. I climbed to about 35,000 feet over Lake Mead with the ADF tuned to a Vegas music station—and they played The Sabre Dance. I went nuts in the airplane, doing crazy rolls, and with full power, dove straight down through the Mach. (We didn’t have TACAN in those days, just an old WWII-era ADF that tuned from 520 to 1600 kc.)
In those days, to collect flight pay, you had to log four hours a month in anything. That December, 15 instructors coming back from Christmas leave were killed when their C-119 crashed on takeoff—trying to get in their minimums.
We were losing 1,200 aircrew a year back then. An F-86 a day, USAF-wide. It was pure Darwinism. Then one congressman’s son made the fatal mistake of stacking downwind low on the strafe range—he was killed. His dad called a congressional hearing: “My son was killed, and there wasn’t even a war.” That’s when the flying safety push hit the Air Force like a hammer. One result? The two Thuds shot down in August 1965 had no ACM training—because it was considered too dangerous.
All of us second lieutenants were initially assigned to FEAF Project 7016—Far East Air Forces, meaning Korea. But the plan changed, and we were sent to various stateside bases. I ended up with a bunch of guys assigned to the newly activated 388th FBW at Clovis AFB, New Mexico (later renamed Cannon). I was TDY to either Langley or Andrews—I don’t remember which—where I actually marched in a colonel’s retirement parade.
So much for life at Nellis in those days.
- Crash a Day—What It Was Like to Learn Jets at Nellis - June 11, 2025
- How and Why I Became a Military Writer - November 22, 2024
LOVE your books! Thanks for taking the time to write.
Mark, WOW! Just WOW! I’m glad you are here to relate those stories of (mis)adventure! When I was with the 56th Wing at MacDill flying F-16s, we all hard the story that in WWII, they had a saying, “One a day in Tampa Bay!” as that was pretty much what was happening as those young pilots were training to fly the B-26. Here’s an article about those days:
http://fly.historicwings.com/2012/11/one-a-day-in-tampa-bay/
Great story, Mark!
Reminds me of stories my Dad (USMC F8U Crusader pilot, 1959-1963, MCAS El Toro, CA) used to tell. He went straight from flight school to his first squadron (VMF(AW)-451). There was no FRS/RTU for the F8U…no 2-seat trainer version…no simulator…no NATOPS manual. You read the aircraft manufacture’s manual. You did a high speed taxi fam. And then you flew your first hop on the wing of a more experienced pilot.
His squadron did a 13-month WestPac rotation in 1962. He said that in their pre-deployment briefing the squadron commander said, “Gentlemen, Look around the ready room at your fellow squadron mates. Several of you won’t be coming home next year.” It wasn’t a matter of if, but when you would buy the farm. They just accepted it as the cost of doing business.
It’ amazing how far aviation safety had come. His squadron received a CNO Safety Award back then for flying 20,000 accident free hours. If we had accident rates like that in the F/A-18 squadrons that I’ve flown in, the squadron commander and half the staff would have been fired.
I’m also reminded of a story about a Post WWII Navy F-4 Corsair squadron doing training at NAS Key West, FL in about 1949 (or thereabouts). If the story is true, they crashed every single aircraft (some fatal, some not) during that deployment…and the Navy simply sent them replacement aircraft (and pilots when necessary) so that they could keep operating. No one got fired. No one said, “Hey, Let’s stop and take a look at how we’re doing business here.”
Mark, I sure enjoyed your “Crash a Day” story. More importantly, I have really enjoyed your books about flying in the Vietnam War. I went on active duty in December 1974, so most all my flight instructors, flight commanders, squadron commanders, etc. were Vietnam vets. Great bunch of guys who were a real inspiration to me, a lowly student pilot (T-37 and T-38) and newbie fighter pilot (F-4). Years later, I had the honor of meeting you and flying with you at Oshkosh during the T-6 formations we put up for the airshow there. The odds are probably against it, but hopefully our paths will cross again someday.
Hey Danny.. I was your Tweet IP at Moody AFB for a bit. Good to read of you.
Vern Darley
[email protected]
Peachtree City, Ga
Mark, as a former Thud pilot and Rolling Thunder participant I have enjoyed reading your books and can identify with many of your frustrations and insights. I spent several months at Nellis and agree that our “training” while well intended, was lacking and rushed. I personally never carried a bomb on the Thud until my first combat mission in Vietnam. If we survived we learned quickly but there were many who never got the chance. A lot of time was spent on the F-105 syllabus at the time and most of it was meaningless after we got to Takhli.
Nellis AFB was a the great place for a young fighter pilot in training to be though and it brings back some great memories.
Keep the stories coming and I hope to continue on with more of my own.
Check six and keep your speed up.
Nice pics – all Aussie CAC Sabres!
Great story. Reminds us of how far we’ve traveled,
Steve
P.S. – I still have the red, white, and blue scarf. Now it’s part of a pillow of similar pewxioua artifacts