taxiing in a zigzag pattern in order to see around the nose, checking for other airplanes before pulling onto the runway and taking off, the full weight of the responsibility of being on my own didn't hit me until I was on the down wind leg of the pattern and noticed that the front cockpit was in fact empty. I'm really flying; all by myself! The landing was fairly good but the instructor scolded me for coming in a little too flat on the final. I had been flying more by the feel of the airplane, which with only one person aboard did fly with a slightly nose-up attitude compared to a fully loaded plane.

Now I was frequently allowed to fly out in the practice area by myself. I continued to work on the basics, stalls, spins, rectangular patterns, etc. From the beginning we had flown out to the practice area while climbing to around 2000 ft. altitude. Then we would practice stalls and stall recovery, then do a spin and spin recovery. I had failed to notice that during the practice stalls we had gained another 1500 feet before we started the spin. We always did things in that order. Even when I was practicing solo I still did things that way. Soon after soloing we graduated to the front seat. My next check ride with the check pilot was due. While walking out to the plane the lieutenant asked me to take him up and do a spin then he climbed into the rear cockpit and signaled that he was strapped in and ready to go. I taxied out, took off, and climbed while progressing to the practice area. When reaching 2,000 feet I pulled up into a stall, chopped power and kicked the plane into a spin. Before there was a quarter turn of rotation or 500 ft of altitude loss the check pilot tapped himself on the helmet to signify that he was doing the flying. He then took over the controls and broke the spin immediately and flew back to the field and landed. We walked back to the small temporary building we were using for a flight line office. He then turned to me and said, "You are going to get a pencil and paper and write these words five hundred times: 'I will never begin a spin before reaching an altitude of three thousand feet above ground level.'" I felt like a like a second grader but I learned a very important lesson.

While I was at Tulsa Mom, Dad, and Madaleen came down to visit me a couple of times in the Ford pickup. Over the Christmas holidays, near the completion of our primary training, we were given a three-day pass, which let me go back to Fairland. The army still had control, so, before letting us go, we were all given a round of Sulfa Drugs, which would have kept us from flying for the three days anyway.

My first solo cross-country was from Tulsa to Siloam Springs, Arkansas, and return. The last time I flew the Fairchild was at the end of a training session and I brought the airplane back to Tulsa Municipal and landed on runway 18. I'll never forget that last flight and landing. I had grown to love that airplane and I haven't flown one again since that day.

We were back on a troop train again. This time we were shunted off on a siding near a training field at Coffeyville, Kansas.