Brigadier General Chuck Yeager, the first man to break the sound barrier, died this week. He broke through the speed of sound in the Bell X-1 in 1947, becoming the most famous Test Pilot in the world. Not just a Test Pilot, General Yeager flew combat in multiple wars.

Appropriately, for a WWII Ace, he died on the 79th anniversary of the Imperial Japanese Navy’s attack on Pearl Harbor (DEC 7). Every pilot knew who Chuck Yeager was.  Beyond a legend, he was a rare living legend for over 70 of his 97 years. His exploits and achievements have filled volumes. Rather than relist them here, I decided to share a personal story.

I read the General’s books as a youngster.  While my Uncle’s Larry and Bob had inspired me to fly, Yeager’s first book cemented that decision. I had chosen the Navy to fly off ships, but still, I often thought about Yeager’s career. I back-doored my way into Flight Test, not too unlike the General.  I was more a “seat of the pants pilot” than engineer. Similar to the General, my technical education did not impress, and it certainly didn’t overwhelm the Selection Board of the Navy’s Test Pilot School. I suspect a collective YGBSM was shared when my BES in Education and MAS in Airline Management were compared to the Aerodynamic and Electrical Engineering Degrees I competed against. I was an average Fleet guy, and long in the tooth at that, well into my thirties. I received a polite; “Thanks, but no thanks”.

Through a little persistence, and a lot of luck (mostly luck), I found myself in VX-30, the Navy’s West Coast Developmental Test Squadron for weapons. Pulled there by my old Midway Shipmate and friend, Captain Jim Seaman, one of the best pilots I ever met (RIP). Another old friend, Captain Jay Mills, had whispered in his ear that I was up for orders. I was equally lucky to be taken under the wing of the Chief Test Pilot of VX-30, , friends to this day, we have continued to dabble in the Flight Test world. We did the Documentary for Discovery’s PLANE CRASH together in 2012. It produced such good data we briefed the project to the Society of Experimental Test Pilots (SETP) at their annual symposium after its completion.

Captain Kennedy even sent a group of us OJT (On Job Training) Test Pilots, to National Test Pilot School; “up in the high desert, where that demon lived”. (Shamelessly borrowed from the film The Right Stuff). We attended Out Of Control Flight (spin) School and a very intense 7 day a week, month long, Project Officer and Engineer Course. He continued to take care of his OJT Bubbas even after assuming Command.  He pulled a couple of us in his office one day and informed us, “You guys have been accruing enough points to join SETP”. We shrugged in indifference, not realizing the significance.  Shaking his head, he simply said, “I expect to see you knuckleheads’ applications for SETP on my desk by the end of the week”.  We were all later selected for full membership in the Society of Experimental Test Pilots, an honor I now truly appreciate.  Like I said, he took care of us.

Warranted or not, I did feel a bit of kinship with Chuck Yeager, certainly not to his level, but those glory days of supersonic records were long gone. Just doing test flights in the same areas where he had, to recognize the spots he wrote about in his book, was pretty humbling. Certainly, the highlight of my career.

I retired from the Navy while in VX-30, started my Airline career, and moved home to St. Louis with my wife Laura, and our four children. A few years later, getting the itch for edge of the envelope flying, I went to the Osh Kosh Airshow with my oldest son, Leland, and good friend Dr. Jim Russell.

We were quite happily surprised when two P-51 Mustangs pulled onto the runway, in section, to begin an airshow routine. They were piloted by two famous WWII Aces, General Chuck Yeager and Colonel Bud Anderson, both in their late 70’s. To say it was an awesome show is an understatement. They put those old fighters through the paces.  The aerobatics were perfect; the formation tight. I was impressed, to say the least.

After that incredible show, we figured nothing could match it for the day, and began the arduous journey back to our camp site. As we made our way through the miles of parked War Birds, we were stopped by volunteers due to crossing aircraft traffic. Both fighters chugged right in front of us and shut down their majestic Merlin engines just a few feet away. Chuck Yeager and Bud Anderson slid off the wings and began to debrief their show. I could tell, because, like all fighter pilots, they were using their hands.

Now, Chuck had a bit of a reputation of being a tad, how shall I put it…curmudgeonly. But I knew they wouldn’t turn away a young teen. I was wearing an old McDonnell Douglas hat with a fighter pilot embroidered on it. I traded my son for his Cardinals baseball cap and told him to go get the old guys’ autographs. I held my breath a bit as he waited for them to finish their debrief.

There were only a few volunteers around and they were keeping their distance.  The old Warriors noticed my son and turned to talk with him. They chatted a long time and were both very gracious and couldn’t have treated him better. They took the hat from his hands, and both signed it. They then talked more, as my friend and I watched from a distance. It will always be a special memory for me. One of my childhood heroes standing with my own child.

Years later, my son and I went back to Osh Kosh.  He had just returned from a combat tour in Iraq, earning a Combat Infantryman’s Badge, and having been awarded a Purple Heart and a couple Army Commendation Medals for action in combat with the 10th Mountain Division.

It was a special time for us, complete with dark humor that only an old Warrior can truly appreciate: I blew myself up using white gas to start a campfire and after first checking to see if I had retained all parts, Leland laughed so hard, I thought I’d have to give him oxygen. I don’t recommend it, even for the humor value.  The smell of burnt hair lingered in my nose for days.

Leland’s two brothers and sister followed him into the service, and ironically all became military pilots. David, USAF KC-135 Stratotanker AC (ILANG); Kait, Army UH-60 Blackhawk (ILNG), and William, V-22 Osprey USMC.

I say ironically because only Leland and I have been to the aviation Mecca of Osh Kosh’s Air Venture; only he and I share the memory of how kind and generous General Chuck Yeager and Colonel Bud Anderson were to a young teen.

God Speed Chuck Yeager.

leland