Bandits At 4 O'clock

The Old Man has always had a thing about airplanes. From watching a neighborhood "big kid" fly his models to building my own, I grew to love the whole concept of flying. My first ride was as a 6 year old, sitting on my mother's lap in an old Piper flown by a co-worker of my dad's. We took off from a grass strip and flew around over my house. That got it all started. As an adult I got my own pilot's license and flew a bit on my own until the family came along and a lot of other money priorities jumped in. Even then, I built scale plastic models. Got pretty good at it, too.


So you can see, aviation has most always been an interest of mine. I've been fortunate enough to pilot a plane around the Wright Brothers' Memorial at Kitty Hawk, do tight 360's around the Hatteras Light, and take countless commercial flights. I've had some rough flights and some scary experiences. But the wackiest one of all was a thing called the Ground Observer Corps.


In 1952, the Korean War was in full swing. The foundations for the Cold War were being laid and a degree of national paranoia came into play. We had atomic bomb drills at school during which we were instructed to get under our desks and cover our eyes. I felt really secure and safe under my desk. "Ain't no atom bomb gonna get ME....I'm under my desk."
The U. S. Air Force came up with a program that established a network of observers all across the country. Volunteers would serve at "Observation Posts" during daylight hours. About the tallest point in Bedford was what was known then as "Reservoir Hill". There were several of the town functions that operated out of that building, and it was a natural point for the establishment of our very own Observation Post.
As Boy Scouts, we were unofficial observers. We could spend time at the Post and assist the adult observers who were there. Mostly this consisted of pouring coffee.
The Corps had it's own manual that outlined procedures.

The opening sentence of the manual, "We are in a dangerous position", set the tone for the rest of the book. The first half was dedicated to procedures for observers to follow. Basically, you were instructed to ignore small private aircraft and concentrate on the "possible bandits". When one was observed, you were to call the Filter Center and say "This is an aircraft flash". You then reported a set of facts, (estimated altitude, number of aircraft, direction, etc.) The manual cautioned that it was always best if the telephone line you used was a private line and not a party line. A "party line"? Imagine you've just spotted a squadron of Russian Migs scooting north. You pick up the phone and hear, "Well, then he put his hand on my knee and....." .



The second half of the book, pictured all different types of aircraft from around the world. Each page dealt with two airplanes.

You will note that there is a panel of silhouettes showing the dreaded MIG-15 from various angles. Take notice of the top one. If you see this perspective in real life, it is now time to haul ass......or get under your desk.
Perhaps the most interesting instructions in the manual deal with actual hostilities. I quote, "If you see an airplane engaged in action that seems to be hostile---for example dropping paratroopers or strafing a road---please report this under item 9 on your flash sheet." SEEMS to be hostile?....strafing the road? Dude, screw the phone call, that is unless the cord is long enough to reach under my desk.


I don't know what's up on Reservoir Hill now-a-days. You probably aren't allowed to drive up there any more. But if you can, be alert. A MIG can come screaming over at any minute.