These stories happened to me or my close friends. I have been active in Warbirds since I was 13. While other kids were playing video games and such, I was working on a B-17 and Me-109 ( HA-1112).
My best friend was Carl Schmieder, he was a board member of Warbird of America, T-6 Lead at Oshkosh, a ICAS ACE, and help start the FAST program. He also helped me to get my A&P, and private pilots certs. I was flying formation before I had my pilots license. Carl dies in the crash of his T-6 in Jan 99.

– Matt Gunsch

Matt Flew the Flight

On the 4th of July, the city of Phoenix puts on a huge event on the grounds of the state capitol, complete with big name entertainers, vendors selling food, and of course fireworks and every 4th of July, Carl and the Cactus Squadron did a over flight as part of the show. I normally flew with Carl, but one year as we were briefing the flight, Chuck Bivenour, who flew the # 4 position, said he did not have a backseater and who wanted to go on the flight. One of the ground crew said they would go. I got thinking about it and asked to trade with Chuck’s passenger as I had not flown in the slot position that much and wanted the experience. A trade was agreed to and at the briefed time, 4 600 horse Pratt & Whitney’s roared into life. The flight consisted of Carl Schmieder in the lead, # 2 was Bob Mitchell #3 was Rick Hosking and # 4 was Chuck and myself. After take off we formed up and headed to the hold point over the fuel farm, about 5 miles from the capitol. Carl put the flight into a diamond formation and started to circle. After 2 circles Chuck asked if I wanted to fly, of course I said yes, but I need to get my sight picture first.

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Categories: Warbird, Hanger Tales
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These stories happened to me or my close friends. I have been active in Warbirds since I was 13. While other kids were playing video games and such, I was working on a B-17 and Me-109 ( HA-1112).
My best friend was Carl Schmieder, he was a board member of Warbird of America, T-6 Lead at Oshkosh, a ICAS ACE, and help start the FAST program. He also helped me to get my A&P, and private pilots certs. I was flying formation before I had my pilots license. Carl dies in the crash of his T-6 in Jan 99.

– Matt Gunsch

How not to get your fighter pilot name

Bob ( last name withheld to protect the guilty) is from ( Classified to protect the easily embarrassed ) where he is a ( need to know basis ) and T-6 owner, but some time before he owned a T-6 Bob came to Deer valley airport and Carl Schmieder, as a very low time pilot with less than 100 hrs, all in Cessna’s, with the desire to fly the T-6 Texan, a WWII era advance training plane.

Bob was doing well with learning to fly the T-6, doing take off s, landings, stalls and learning the personality of the T-6. We did all we could to help him with his confidence when during a session of landings and take offs, four of us took it upon ourselves to be judges of his landings. After each landing Bob, with Carl in the backseat, would taxi back to the end of the runway for another takeoff, as he came near where we were standing on the ramp, we would hold up numbered cards to show what we thought of his last landing. He is the only person I have ever known to get a negative score from the judges,

Carl was going out one morning to practice is solo ship acro show and invited Bob along to see what a T-6 could do. After a good breakfast at the airport restaurant, Carl, Bob, Eric Forbes and myself went to the hanger to get the T-6 preflight ed and ready to go. Eric and I did the pre-flight while Carl went over the routine with Bob, telling him what to expect. As I was helping Bob strap into the backseat I made it a point to show him where the airsickness bag was, just in case. As I did with all those I strapped into that seat, the last thing I told them before I closed the canopy was, I don’t clean up backseat if they can’t handle it. Eric and I watched them taxi out and take off and then we went back into the work hanger until we would hear the sound of the Pratt & Whitney coming back.

After about 30 minutes we heard the sound of the T-6 coming into the pattern and Eric and I went out the back door to watch the break. Over the years we learned to judge how a flight went by how aggressive the break was, in this mornings case, it was a old lady break, slow and gentle. Carl taxied up to the hanger and Eric and I pushed the 6 back into the hanger before they even had a chance to get out. Carl got out of the plane and Bob just kind of sat there. We noticed that he was not his normal color and seemed to be a little dazed. I climbed up to help him get un strapped and found out the reason for the color change, Bob had made a amazing discovery during that flight, in that he found he could fit his entire breakfast, complete with coffee, into his shirt pocket. Bob later said he could not get to the airsick bag in time and remembered what I had told him, so he used what was the most readily available place, his pocket. Bob slowly got out and went to the restroom to clean up while Carl found a T-shirt for Bob to wear.
When Bob got back to the ready room Carl gave him the shirt and then the four of us debriefed the flight. At the end of the de-brief Carl pointed out that this was a very special flight, and was in fact, THE flight that defines what a fighter pilot was to be called for the rest of his life, and from now on, Some are know as Hunter, Sharpshooter, or other names that sound like they belong in the cockpit of a fighter, after today, Bob ( last name withheld to protect the guilty and easily embarrassed )would be known to us as “CHUCKER”.

Categories: Warbird, Hanger Tales
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These stories happened to me or my close friends. I have been active in Warbirds since I was 13. While other kids were playing video games and such, I was working on a B-17 and Me-109 ( HA-1112).
My best friend was Carl Schmieder, he was a board member of Warbird of America, T-6 Lead at Oshkosh, a ICAS ACE, and help start the FAST program. He also helped me to get my A&P, and private pilots certs. I was flying formation before I had my pilots license. Carl dies in the crash of his T-6 in Jan 99.

anyway, here is one of my stories, it is called Show it to him Granpa.

– Matt Gunsch 

Show it to him Granpa
by  Matthew T. Gunsch

I was a member of the Arizona Wing of the Confederate Airforce when I was younger and the wing was more fun to be around, and one of the events I took part in was one of their first Warbird shows at Falcon Field, what follows is a story of why it is such a privelage to work with Warbirds.

We had been moving planes and setting up fencing panels all morning and I was getting hungry. The show was supposed to open at noon, but we were far from ready and there were a few people looking at the planes we had on display. As I was getting ready to leave I noticed a older gentleman looking in the rear crew door on the B-17. Since we were not ready to open the gates, there was no one to take money for the show or tours, I decided to take him thru the plane for free, then go get lunch. As we went from station to station in the plane I gave him the usual spiel about the crew stations and what crewman did there. He did not ask any questions and just looked around as I was pointing things out. The normal tour exited the plane thru the front hatch after going thru the cockpit. As you step down out of the cockpit and toward to the hatch you can look forward into the nose where the Bombadier and Navigator stations were, we normally did not take tours in there as it is a very small area and the tours tend to back up, but since it was just the two of us, I removed the Bungee cords that were blocking off the nose. When ever I did take someone into the nose I would have them sit in the Bombadier’s seat, where they could look thru the Norden Bomb sight and thru the glass nose. When this gentleman sat in the chair, a change came over his face, it is hard to explain, but, you could see he was looking into the past. He proceeded to tell me that he had been a B-17 Bombadier in the 8th Air Force during WWII and had 2 planes shot out from under him. The first one he told me, was hit at the start of a bomb run. He had just leaned over the bomb sight and heard a loud explosion and then it got very windy, he was not hit and did not hear any orders from the pilot, so he stayed at his sight and completed his run. Once the bombs had been dropped and control of the plane released back to the pilot, he sat up, it was then he noticed 2 large holes in the plexiglass nose, right at the level of where his head would have been, had he not been learning over the sight. He turned and it was then he saw that the navigator, who sits behind him and to the left side of the plane, had been hit and killed instantly. It was the only damage they received and they made it back to the base in England.
The second plane did not fair as well, as they were shot down and he became a Prisoner of War. After he said that, he was back in the present and said he better be going, and thanked me for the tour, I said that the pleasure was all mine and thanked him for sharing his story with me. I went to lunch thinking about that man and his story and how many men like him were still around.

The next day, we finally had everything set up and the gates were open and we had a good turn out. I was standing with the B-25 and answering questions, when I saw the gentleman from yesterday, with him was his daughter and grand daughter. He said he wanted to show me a picture of his crew. He had a 8 x 10 picture of him and his crew in front of the B-17that was shot down later over Germany. He pointed to each person and told what happened to each of them, some came home, a lot of them didn’t. He told me what it was like in the POW camp and how he was treated. We had been talking for a while when his grand daughter tugged on the sleeve of his jacket and said, “Show it to him Grampa”. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and held it in his open palm. He gently opened the handkerchief and inside was a side view of B-17, about 4inches long, carved out of wood, complete with open bombay doors and markings, He said he carved it out of a bed slat while in the POW camp, and he would have been shot had they found it. I was could not think of a thing to say, other to say thanks for what he did and I was so glad he came back and showed it to me, and as long as I was around, if he wanted to sit in the B-17, come find me and I would let him sit in HIS B-17 as long as he wanted. He put the bed slat B-17 back in his pocket and that he had taken enough of my time, I thanked him again and watched as he, his daughter and grand daughter walked away.

I never saw him again, but his story has stayed with me and I still have the same feeling every time I tell it.

Categories: Warbird, Hanger Tales
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Yesterday myself and Ryan stayed local and traveled around finding warbirds everywhere, there sure are alot of them in this area (Chandler,AZ) WIX-member Chris was kind enough to show us the P-51 Mustang Su Su which he works on and introduced us to her owner, Nasi, who was a very nice gentleman. Later we wandered around (aka almost lost) looking for gas before heading over to Falcon-Field and the CAF-AZ Wing Museum where we hooked up with WIX-member Matt and swapped stories for awhile until Chris joined us and the we toured the museum. Matt and Chris were excellent guides and the impromtu tour was very interesting.

Ryan, Scott (me), Chris and Matt.

Also at the museum was a different sort of Mustang…

Mr. Rousch is rapidly becoming one of my heroes.

Well, we will be departing for Pima in a few minutes, hopefully when we get back I will get a chance to post more photos. Cya later.

Categories: Airshows/Events, Warbird Culture
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The WRG/WIX HQ (Scott & Ryan) will be commencing a whirlwind west coast tour commencing tomorrow, May 14 and ending Monday May 19th. this tour will include Phoenix & Tucson, AZ as well as Palm Springs, CA & finally Chino, CA for the big Planes Of Fame 2008 airshow. I urge any WIX who is in these areas that wants to meet up to let us know on the WIX forum We will be having group dinners on Friday and Saturday nights in Chino as well as a “debriefing” afterwards at our hotel. the debriefings are a tradition of the HQ whenever we venture forth to these airshows and usually involves prodigious showing of pictures and telling of BS stories. Its great fun and I look forward to seeing new and old friends their. We will post more details as the day gets nearer.

In addition, we will be going from Phoenix to Tucson on Thursday to make the pilgrimage to Pima. Anybody who wants to convoy with us and spend the day looking at old planes is more than welcome.

I will be posting more reports and pictures from the road here on Warbirds-Online, so stay tuned.

Categories: Airshows/Events, Warbird Culture
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A recent addition to the WRG library. Interesting book about an often overlooked aspect of World War II aviation.

Categories: Warbird Culture, Books & Media
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A recent addition to the WRG library. Interesting book about an often overlooked aspect of World War II aviation.

Categories: Warbird Culture, Books & Media
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Source: Unknown

Categories: Humor
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‘Twas the night before Christmas, and out on the ramp,
Not an airplane was stirring, not even a Champ.
The aircraft were fastened to tiedowns with care,
In hopes that come morning, they all would be there.

The fuel trucks were nestled, all snug in their spots,
With gusts from two-forty at 39 knots.
I slumped at the fuel desk, now finally caught up,
And settled down comfortably, resting my butt.

When the radio lit up with noise and with chatter,
I turned up the scanner to see what was the matter.
A voice clearly heard over static and snow,
Called for clearance to land at the airport below.

He barked his transmission so lively and quick,
I’d have sworn that the call sign he used was “St. Nick”.
I ran to the panel to turn up the lights,
The better to welcome this magical flight.

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Categories: Warbird Culture, Humor
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‘Twas the night before Christmas, and out on the ramp,
Not an airplane was stirring, not even a Champ.
The aircraft were fastened to tiedowns with care,
In hopes that come morning, they all would be there.

The fuel trucks were nestled, all snug in their spots,
With gusts from two-forty at 39 knots.
I slumped at the fuel desk, now finally caught up,
And settled down comfortably, resting my butt.

When the radio lit up with noise and with chatter,
I turned up the scanner to see what was the matter.
A voice clearly heard over static and snow,
Called for clearance to land at the airport below.

He barked his transmission so lively and quick,
I’d have sworn that the call sign he used was “St. Nick”.
I ran to the panel to turn up the lights,
The better to welcome this magical flight.

Show me more… »

Categories: Warbird Culture, Humor
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