Part of our training involved night cross-country navigational flights. We would leave Ardmore and fly southeast into Alabama and Georgia, then turn north into the Carolinas and come back west through Tennessee and Arkansas. Some of the flights covered a thousand miles and more, and were flown at the cooler altitudes around 6,000 ft. which were a treat after a hot day on the ground. The object was to give the Navigator experience in various skills, from pilotage and dead reckoning to celestial navigation. John Joseph came out of Navigation School at Hondo, Texas. 'Joe' was exceptional. He was very precise in speech and manner. His voice was deep and he was tall. He could have played a very respectable Abe Lincoln in a college play. I used to love to hear the guy talk. His vocabulary was extensive, his phrasing meticulous. He would have made a great lawyer. Yet there was not an ounce of falsity in the man. What you saw was what you got, a gentleman, through and through.

Joe was a conscientious Navigator. He constantly practiced "star shots" to enhance his celestial navigation. He never "sluffed off" on anything. Every new challenge was gladly met...and always conquered. His quality is borne out by his being offered a chance to become Group Navigator of the 385th.

Now to the Pilots. Jerry Steil was an ideal son of the Midwest. Outgoing, but not the wordy type. When Jerry spoke, everyone listened, because every word had importance. He had the perfect pilots demeanor. Tall, blond, He looked like a Pilot was supposed to look. As Airplane Commander, he was "no nonsense" in the air. He didn't have to chew anyone out, because a straight look in the eye was carried the message Jerry came out of Aviation Cadets through Primary Flying School at Eagle Field, Dos Palos, California; Basic Flying School, Minter Field, California; and twin engine Advanced Flying School at Douglas, Arizona. He went into B-17 first pilot school at Hobbs, New Mexico, and came out as an Airplane Commander. We can all remember an incident overseas where another pilot, who was a Captain, outranking Jerry, was flying as our copilot when a procedural dispute arose. It became quite heated. Jerry, rather firmly, reminded this "two-tracker" that HE was the Airplane Commander, and that HIS decision, in the air, was final. End of argument!...

Perhaps my characterization of Jerry as a strong commander leaves the wrong impression of the man. He was not a military martinet in any sense. On the ground he was as pleasant a man as you would care to meet. He had a good sense of humor and wore a smile not a frown. He liked his men and took care of them, and they liked him. He was always fair and considerate to all his crew. He was an easy guy to talk with. He was a good listener. His manner on the ground was never harsh with anyone. In a nutshell, he was a kind and gentile person who took his responsibility seriously. He knew that we were in a dangerous business, and had the belief that the way to complete a combat tour and have the whole crew survive, was to insist that every man know his job well, and perform it to the best of his ability. We all reacted positively. We all wanted to get through the war!

Mort Feingold was our copilot Mort was an excellent pilot. This Chicago native had also gone through Advanced Twin-Engine School, but wanted to be in fighters, specifically P-38s. Instead he wound up as a copilot on our B-17. I had a feeling that Mort wasn't totally pleased when he first came to Ardmore, and that he would have preferred the more free-spirited life in fighters, to the more restricted four-engine life. The enlisted men thought him rather terse and abrupt at fist, He came around though. He was smart enough to recognize quality Steil, Joe, and Don Collins, officer cohorts in the front of the plane with him. Mort and Don became inseparable buddies.

One day flying over Texas, Jerry decided to give all the gunners a shot at flying the "Big Bird". Mort was in the left seat and we were called up one at a time for our "four-engine time". As an aspiring Cadet I picked up 10 hours of "piper cub" time at Washington State College. When my turn came Mort said "O.K. give it a whirl". I grabbed the throttles and the wheel and after checking clearances, heeled her over into a steep ninety degree turn to the right then another to the left back to the original course. I smugly thought "Not too bad"... Then Mort said "O.K. lets try instruments". After a few minutes, the wind was completely out of my sails. Back to reality!